Kevin dropped onto the ground. He whispered the same thing.
"What a joke… what a joke… what a freaking joke."
He didn't yell it. Didn't rage it. He just said it like a tired man muttering to himself after everything fell apart.
He glanced at the fire crackling beside him, still roasting the boar leg. It sizzled and popped like it didn't care that he was seconds away from losing his mind.
His eyes drifted to the blood staining his arm and thigh. The bites throbbed painfully with every heartbeat. He could already imagine bacteria and unknown pathogens crawling into his bloodstream. Great. Just perfect.
He wiped a smear of blood from his thigh and looked at the treeline again. He didn't need the system to tell him something worse than rabbits would show up soon. The boar's corpse was lying out there like a giant invitation.
A curse in animal form.
He sighed through his teeth and pushed himself to his feet. His legs shook, but he walked toward the pit anyway. The entire boar leg would take hours to cook completely, and he didn't have that kind of time—nor the energy. So he sliced a chunk off the part closest to the fire. Half-cooked steam hit his face.
"Whatever," he muttered and leaned close to sear the meat a little more. He turned it over, watching the outer layer darken.
Kevin took a bite. Warm juices spread across his tongue, and despite everything—the fall, the boar, the insanity of the SoulLink—he let out a small, involuntary sound of satisfaction.
He didn't relax. He ate like a soldier in enemy territory.
And that saved him.
A soft rustle came from the bushes. Too soft for anything big. Too many for it to be one animal.
Kevin froze mid-chew and slowly lifted his gaze toward the shadows.
Red eyes.
A lot of them.
"Oh, come on," he whispered.
The scavenger rabbits. Back again—and this time, there were at least twice as many.
They stared at him with those hunger-glazed eyes like he was the side dish next to the boar. His body protested every movement, but Kevin pushed himself up anyway, wiping blood from his lips with the back of his hand.
His right arm throbbed. His thigh burned. Every breath annoyed him.
He gripped the dagger tighter.
And despite everything…
A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"So you want more? Fine. Let's go again."
He wasn't doing this for fun.
He wanted soul fragments.
He wanted to see what happened when he filled that gauge.
The rabbits burst from the bushes in a chaotic rush. Kevin barely had time to plant his feet before the first one launched at his shoulder, jaws wide.
"Nope—" He grabbed it mid-air and slammed it against the tree with a dull thud. It curled up on the ground, stunned but breathing.
Two more dove at his sides. Kevin ducked, feeling the snap of their jaws near his ears, and slashed upward in quick, shallow cuts. Nothing fatal, just enough to make them squeal and back off.
The forest erupted into snarls and scrapes of claws on dirt.
They circled him, testing his openings.
"I'll show you who's boss!" Kevin roared, adrenaline overriding exhaustion. He laughed. Sharp. Unhinged.
A rabbit darted behind him. Kevin twisted and kicked backward blindly. His heel connected, sending the creature tumbling. He stumbled with the motion but forced himself upright.
"Come on!" he shouted hoarsely. "Come here!"
His voice cracked into something half-laugh, half-snarl.
Four rabbits charged at once, a blur of gray fur and fangs. Kevin pivoted, letting two slam into each other, and caught the third by its ears, flinging it aside. The fourth leaped toward his side. He slammed the dagger down, smacking its side bluntly.
Then pain exploded in his thigh.
One rabbit had dug its teeth into the same spot he'd injured earlier. Kevin yelled, half fury, half panic, and—without thinking—stabbed down hard. The rabbit jerked once and went limp.
The system chimed cheerfully.
"Congratulations. You've killed a Scavenger Rabbit."
"Oh, screw off," Kevin snapped, kicking the dead rabbit away. "That one wasn't on purpose!"
His breathing was ragged now. The rest of the rabbits seemed shaken by his outburst. As if they knew they couldn't win the fight.
They began backing away.
Except one.
A black rabbit stood alone between the trees, almost elegant in how still it stayed. Bigger than the others. Eyes sharper. It didn't back up like the rest. It stared at him like it understood him.
Kevin wiped blood from his arm and grinned.
"So you're the tough guy."
The rabbit crouched, muscles coiling.
Kevin lowered his stance. "Come on, then."
But it didn't move.
Not until the system chimed again.
"Congratulations. You obtained Soul Fragment."
4/10.
Then another.
7/10.
Then.
10/10.
A new prompt materialized.
"Your Soul Fragment is full."
"Proceed with SoulLink?"Yes or No?"
Kevin didn't even hesitate. He tapped Yes with a bloodstained finger.
The air grew cold.
His shadow stretched unnaturally long, then tore itself free from his feet. Kevin stiffened, heart hammering, as the shadow rose like liquid smoke, forming limbs—long, crooked, impossible limbs.
The black rabbit sensed it immediately. Its ears shot up. It turned, but the shadow moved faster.
Tendrils shot forward, snaring the rabbit around its torso. The creature shrieked, thrashing wildly, but the dark tendrils pulled tighter.
"Whoa…" Kevin whispered, eyes wide.
The shadow swallowed the rabbit whole, pulling it down as if the earth had turned to tar. Then, without fanfare, it slid back to Kevin's feet and snapped into place.
Like nothing had happened.
A new message appeared:
"Congratulations. SoulLink successful."
"You've obtained a Shadow."
Kevin stared at the ground, at his completely normal-looking shadow. He felt a tremble of excitement crawl up his spine.
Then he started to grin.
Slowly.
Dangerously. Like a madman.
"Oh," he murmured. "Now this is interesting."
"Let's see what the crappy Eclipse System has to offer. I hope it wasn't trash again."