Chapter 6:Into The Abyss

Chapter 6: Into the Abyss

A deafening silence filled the air. Azrael stood frozen, his pulse pounding like a war drum in his ears. The world around him felt stretched, twisted—like reality itself was on the verge of unraveling. The shadows slithered unnaturally, curling at the edges of his vision as if they were watching him.

His hands trembled, his fingers tightening around the rusted dagger he had scavenged earlier. It was a pathetic weapon, barely useful against whatever lurked in the darkness. But right now, it was the only thing separating him from death.

A notification flickered across his vision.

[Survive.]

That was it. No further explanation. No guidance. Just one word.

Something moved in the abyss ahead. A faint whisper of motion, barely a sound, but enough to send a chill racing down Azrael's spine. He took a step back, his breathing shallow. His system had been merciless so far—every task a test of endurance, every penalty a looming threat. And now, it had given him a command as vague as it was terrifying.

He didn't know what he had to survive.

But he knew one thing—he was not alone.

A low growl echoed from the shadows, deep and guttural. His grip tightened around the dagger as his instincts screamed at him to run. Then, a pair of glowing eyes snapped open in the darkness.

And then another.

And another.

A dozen hungry eyes stared at him, their pupils stretching into vertical slits. His breath caught in his throat as the creatures slunk forward, their outlines jagged and unnatural, their movements eerily smooth.

[First Contact: Predatory Shades detected.]

[Threat Level: Deadly.]

Azrael's mind raced. His system didn't give him level-ups for free—he had to earn them. And that meant fighting. But fighting these things? With a rusted dagger? That was suicide.

The shades crept closer, their inky forms flickering like candle flames. He needed a plan. Fast.

Then he saw it—the faintest glimmer of light reflecting off something metallic a few meters away. A broken sword, half-buried in the ground. If he could just—

One of the shades lunged.

Azrael reacted on instinct. He dove to the side, narrowly avoiding a swipe from its shadowy claws. The air behind him hissed as the creature's attack sliced through it. He rolled, his fingers grasping desperately for the broken sword—

Cold steel met his grip.

He didn't hesitate. With a desperate swing, he slashed at the nearest shade. The blade cut through its form like slicing through smoke. A horrible screech echoed as the creature recoiled, its glowing eyes flickering before vanishing entirely.

[+10 XP]

One down.

A dozen more to go.

Azrael had no time to celebrate. The remaining shades surged forward, a swirling mass of darkness and malice. His breath came in short, panicked gasps. His body ached. His mind screamed at him to run.

But there was nowhere to run.

Another shade pounced. Azrael barely managed to twist out of the way, bringing the broken sword up in a desperate counterattack. The blade met resistance, biting into the creature's form before shattering completely.

His weapon was gone.

And the shades were closing in.

His system remained silent. No help. No guidance.

No mercy.

Azrael clenched his fists. If the system wanted him to survive, then he would. By any means necessary.

Even if it meant stepping into the abyss itself.