Desperation

The sun hung at its zenith, beating down through the gaps in the canopy with a warmth that made the air feel twice as heavy. Kurai trudged through the undergrowth, a fresh prowler corpse slung over his shoulder. His makeshift chitin spear bobbed at his side with each step. He had slain five of these creatures since morning, each kill awarding him more points—and more Aether. He could feel it thrumming beneath his skin, lending a taut vibrancy to his limbs. Jumps that might once have strained his muscles now seemed effortless; dodges and strikes came more swiftly, as though the world had slowed down a fraction.

He exhaled, letting a flicker of satisfaction spark in his chest. So this is the power of Aether, he thought. As brutal as this place was, it was at least consistent in its rewards. Already, he could sense how his body responded—no longer just a man with sharpened instincts and disciplined skills, but something more.

The river wasn't far off, and the idea of depositing his kill at camp—perhaps for Jace and Mira to butcher—was a welcome one. He made a mental tally of the day's accomplishments. Five more kills… that's fifty points. Another step toward that elusive Aether Manual.

Then, a noise. A faint rustle in the nearest bush that didn't match the wind's rhythm.

Kurai froze, the hairs at the back of his neck tingling. Carefully, he slid the prowler carcass from his shoulder to free his balance. Sure enough, two shapes burst out of the foliage—men, both caked in mud and dried blood, clutching rough, splintered spears. Their eyes were wide with desperation, wild in a way Kurai had come to expect from cornered animals.

He sprang backward, the new strength in his legs propelling him well beyond their lunging reach. The men faltered at the sight of his unexpected leap, surprise flickering across their faces. Kurai's heart pounded, but he kept his expression cold. Ambushers… humans. They must have caught him hauling the kill and decided he was easy prey.

They recovered, snarling, brandishing their spears in jittery arcs. Without so much as a word, both charged, driven by fear or hunger or madness. Kurai watched them come, and an odd calm settled over him. Everything felt sluggish—they felt sluggish—compared to his Aether-honed reflexes.

He waited until the first man's spear thrust forward, then slid sideways, letting the crude tip pass harmlessly by. In a single fluid motion, he rapped the spear shaft against the attacker's wrist, forcing him to lose grip. The man gasped, weapon tumbling from his fingers. Kurai brought his chitin spear around in a quick slash, scoring a deep gash across the ambusher's chest.

He dropped to his knees, clutching at his wound with a ragged moan.

The second man roared, flinging himself at Kurai with a reckless overhead strike. Kurai pivoted, raising his spear in a smooth parry. Wood cracked against chitin. Then he twisted at the waist, driving a devastating elbow into the man's ribs. The ambusher staggered back, reeling, and Kurai followed through with a thrust of his spear that found flesh beneath a hastily raised arm. A gurgle, and the man sagged to the ground.

Only a heartbeat had passed since the first man's lunge. Kurai's gaze flicked down to where the second man sprawled, blood pooling in the forest loam. A faint wheeze escaped the fallen ambusher's lips. He tried to speak, but only managed a weak cough. Kurai turned away, reorienting on the first attacker—who was now gasping, hands pressed to his chest in a vain attempt to stop the bleeding.

For a moment, their eyes met. In that fraction of a second, Kurai saw something close to regret or realization in the man's stare. Then the attacker slumped forward. Death took him before any plea could be made.

Silence followed, broken by the cold voice in his head;

"You have absorbed another creature's Aether. You have grown stronger. 30 points have been allocated."

"You have absorbed another creature's Aether. You have grown stronger. 20 points have been allocated."

He stood over the two lifeless forms, spear tip streaked with fresh blood. Their crude weapons lay scattered—a testament to either their desperation or folly. Slowly, Kurai forced himself to exhale, easing the tension coiled in his muscles.

He felt the Aether thrumming again, like an electric charge under his skin. These kills— avoidable had they not attacked— granting him more points. He felt no sympathy, though he did not admonish their effort, they were simply trying to survive. Whatever had driven them must have been potent: hunger, fear, or the desire for points. It didn't matter now.

Stepping away from the bodies, he wiped his chitin spear on a broad leaf, flicking off the excess blood.

Refocusing on his goal, Kurai hoisted the prowler carcass once more, sparing only a final glance at the two dead men. He did not linger. Let them serve as another cautionary tale in this brutal land, he thought grimly.

Without ceremony, he set off for the river, stronger than ever.