4. Skills and Dominance

4. Skills and Dominance

Kauã awoke with a heated weight pressing upon his chest.

His sharpened senses were already alert before even opening his eyes - the scent of damp moss, the residual smoke from the campfire, the sweetish sweat of someone sleeping too close.

When he finally lifted his eyelids, he saw Julia.

She lay sprawled across him, her head nestled against his feathered chest, breathing softly. Her short hair - chestnut with reddish highlights - tumbled disorderly across her face, giving her a fragile appearance that contrasted with the eight spider legs twitching involuntarily in her sleep, as though dreaming of the hunt.

Kauã hesitated.

It was strange.

She smelled of human sweat, earth, fear... but also something eerily familiar, as if his beastly instinct recognized her as kin.

His hand, almost against his will, lightly brushed her shoulder. Julia didn't wake. She merely took a deeper breath, as if the contact soothed her.

'Better get going.' He needed to test his limits.

He needed to understand what else his body could do.

Kauã carefully slid from the nest of leaves, his wings opening just enough to muffle his footsteps. The pyramid stood silent, save for the muffled snoring of civilians and the distant scratching still echoing against the outer walls.

At the entrance, Travis and Alistair sat back-to-back, weapons in hand, their heavy-lidded eyes scanning the forest and river

"I'll take the dawn watch now," Kauã whispered.

Travis glanced at him, then at Alistair who was nearly asleep in the corner. A weary smile cracked his face. "Sure thing, little bird. But don't doze off out there."

Alistair merely nodded, relieved.

Kauã stepped outside.

The night air of Zarathûn was cold and electric, like breathing after a storm.

And then he saw it. The sky - five moons hung like colossal lanterns. Kauã felt his heart race. It was hypnotic.

But before he could process what this meant, a sound snapped him back to reality.

The night wind whistled through Kauã's feathers as he moved beyond the pyramid, leaving the firelight's safety behind. The five moons cast tangled, overlapping shadows across the tall grass, turning every step into uncertainty.

The deer by the river - if they could even be called that - lifted their heads in unison as he passed. Their eyes glowed the same amber as the giant beaver's fangs. Predators, Kauã thought. No matter how they look.

But that was a problem for later.

Right now, he needed answers.

Closing his eyes, Kauã focused inward: 'System, open profile.'

A blue screen flickered in his mind, golden letters pulsing as if alive:

[ SYLORAN SYSTEM ]

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USER: Torphon

STAGE: 0

CURRENT TITLE: Adapting Novice

SUBTITLE: Son of the Sky

BEAST LEVEL: 0

VYRON: Enhanced Beast/Harpy Eagle

AFFILIATIONS: None

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Kauã bit the inside of his beak, processing.

'System, describe each term and its functions.'

The screen reconfigured, whispering voices echoing in his mind:

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1. USER (Torphon)

Identification registered by Syloran System. Can be altered through achievements.

(Hiding your true name was wise - names hold power in Zarathûn.)

2. BEAST LEVEL: 0

Measures synchronization with beast form. (Higher levels unlock metamorphosis and new abilities.)

Progress by mastering beast skills or surviving critical events.

(Your body is still transforming. The pain will come.)

3. TITLE (Adapting Novice)

Indicates standing in the survivor hierarchy. Titles grant passive bonuses.

(Bonuses: +2.5% resistance to basic poisons. +3.5% Environmental Adaptation.)

4. SUBTITLE (Son of the Sky)

Affinity for aerial abilities. Reflects natural predisposition. You are a predator of the heights.

(Bonus: Favorable winds during flight, 50% reduced energy expenditure.)

5. VYRON (Harpy Eagle)

Dominant beast DNA. Harpies are apex hunters. (Or near-apex)

6. AFFILIATIONS

Alliances grant protection.

(Warning: rival factions mark targets.)

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What are the system's other functions?' he asked. His green eyes dilated as they absorbed the data dancing in the air.

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[ INVENTORY (Level 1) ]

( Empty)

Inventory Function:

Personal storage dimension. Currently vacant.

Capacity: 2 items (increases with levels).

Usage: Touch an object and mentally command 'Store'.

Limitations:

Cannot store living beings.

Overly heavy items require Level 3.

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A sudden wind stirred his black hair, carrying the distant rustle of wings against branches.

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[ HARPY BEAST ABILITIES]

Abilities: Harpy Strength, Powerful claws, Raptor Vision, Instinctive Reflexes, Predatory diving, Natural Camouflage, Silent Attack, Intimidating Gaze, Enhanced Carnivore/Herbivore Diet.

Ability Descriptions:

Harpy Strength - Enhanced (Superhuman Strength) [Passive]):

Muscular strength is significantly increased, especially in the legs and back. This power is akin to that of a harpy but amplified—granting the ability to lift and hurl objects or enemies far heavier than the user's own body. Their steel-dense muscles can crush bones, deliver devastating blows, and easily smash through sturdy structures.

Powerful Claws - Enhanced [Passive/Active]):

Their hands and feet transform into curved, razor-sharp talons, strong enough to crush bone and pierce armor while maintaining a predator's unyielding grip. Once these claws clamp onto something, escape is nearly impossible. Their legs possess immense strength, allowing them to seize and lift objects or people with ease.

Raptor Vision - Enhanced [Passive/Active]

With eyes that can see up to 1 km away, the user can detect the slightest movements—even through dense foliage or complete darkness. They can also switch between light spectrums, including night vision and zoom.

Instinctive Reflexes - Enhanced [Passive]

Their reflexes are superhuman, reacting to threats before consciously perceiving them. They can dodge projectiles, respond in fractions of a second, and predict enemy movements with near-precognitive precision. A razor-sharp predatory instinct, tempered by human control for strategy and focus. (Small chance of failure.)

Natural Camouflage - Enhanced [Passive/Active]

Feather-like patterns (adapted to human skin) help them blend into forest shadows. This ability allows the user to merge with their surroundings, becoming nearly invisible when motionless or moving subtly. Perfect for ambushes or evasion.

predatory Diving - Enhanced [Active]

Capable of launching into a devastating high-speed dive from above, like a living projectile. The impact can deal massive damage with surgical precision—perfect for eliminating a target in a single strike. Terminal velocity: 390 km/h (242 mph). Aerodynamic body mitigates recoil.

Silent Attack - Enhanced [Active]

Moves without emitting sound, even during wingbeats or rapid maneuvers. This ability makes you the perfect hunter, catching targets off-guard before they even sense your presence.

Intimidating Look - Enhanced [Passive/Active]

Your eyes radiate intense psychological pressure. Those who meet your gaze may feel fear, hesitation, or even momentary paralysis—like prey hypnotized by a natural predator. Also functions as a form of intimidation in confrontations.

Carnivore or Herbivore Diet - Enhanced [Passive/Active]

The body develops razor-sharp teeth and reinforced jaws capable of tearing through raw flesh, crushing bones, and grinding tough plant matter with equal efficiency. Its hybrid dentition combines elongated canines with serrated molars, enabling a broad diet—from live prey to toxic vegetation—which the body can process for energy or regeneration.

———

The cliff's biting wind tossed my hair as I examined the talons that had replaced my hands. These abilities… They seem harpy-based. My muscles tensed beneath my skin, every fiber thrumming with some ancient instinct. I need to test them. The faster I mastered this body, the better.

Relying solely on instinct wasn't smart—instincts fail; they're impulsive. If I wanted to survive in this world, I'd have to learn to control them, not be controlled by them. With a leap, I felt the air press against me as my wings snapped open in a jerky, almost unbalanced motion. The ground vanished beneath my feet, and for a second, fear tried to claw its way in. Not now. Focus.

The valley below stretched out in shades of green and brown, trees swaying in the breeze. The scent of damp earth and dry leaves filled my nostrils, and the distant songs of birds reminded me that, no matter how strange it felt, I was now part of this ecosystem.

'Mistakes could cost me my life.'

I adjusted the angle of my wings, sensing every air current as if it were an extension of my own body. Much better.

'First, I'll test this harpy strength.'

My eyes locked onto the dense forest ahead, where sunlight barely pierced the canopy. Among the twisted branches and dark leaves, I spotted a fallen tree trunk—massive, its surface blanketed in moss like a green mantle. Perfect.

My talons clenched involuntarily, sinking into the soft earth beneath me. The smell of wet soil and rotting wood filled my nostrils as I braced myself. With a quick burst, I lunged toward the trunk, feeling the muscles in my legs coil like springs under pressure.

The impact came before I even realized it—a dry thud, followed by the sharp "crack" of wood yielding under my strength. Splinters flew through the air, and the trunk split in half as if it were little more than dry kindling. My heart raced, not from exertion, but pure surprise. That… was easier than I expected.

Wooden fragments still trembled on the ground when I heard a distant noise—birds taking flight, startled by the crash. A rush of adrenaline buzzed through my veins. If a tree trunk was no match, what else can I do?

He'd estimated it: six to ten times stronger than a man in peak physical condition. Maybe more. But raw strength without technique was like an axe without a handle—dangerous even to the one wielding it.

——

The scent of fresh sap still hung in the air as Kauã left the shattered trunk behind. His predator's gaze swept across the open field, sifting through shadows under the pulsing light of the five moons. That's when the rock caught his attention—a black stone, smooth as if polished by river waters ages ago. Perfect.

He moved closer in measured steps, his talons already tingling at his fingertips. The skin around his nails darkened, thickening into rough scales, while the claws themselves slid free from their sheaths with a wet "shink".

They were blades. Curved like scythes, black as obsidian, their microscopic serrations glinting under the moonlight. Kauã raised his hand, studying them against the glow.

Without hesitation, he struck.

The first motion was a test—a swift sideways slash.

"Shink."

The talon sank three inches into the stone, splintering it like rotten wood. Kauã pulled back, and the granite groaned, splitting clean in two with a dry snap.

But he didn't stop.

The second strike was a spinning motion, pivoting from the wrist.

"CRACK-TCHAK!"

The top half of the boulder exploded into shards, fragments slicing through the air like bullets. One grazed Kauã's chest, leaving a shallow mark.

——

The night wind stilled for a moment, as if Zarathûn itself held its breath. Kauã kept his talons raised, but his eyes—his true hunting instruments—were already adapting.

He pushed his vision further. The world erupted into layers.

Foreground: The Stags advancing, every muscle beneath their hides taut with motion.

500 meters out: Yesterday's forest, where leaves trembled without wind.

800 meters up: The crowns of the tallest trees, where something far larger coiled through the branches like a cosmic serpent.

1 kilometer away: A distant hill, where the first lights of dawn pulsed.

The pain struck like a knife buried behind his eyeballs.

Kauã squeezed his eyes shut, a guttural hiss escaping his beak as his vision fractured into white static and bloody smears. His knees hit the ground, talons digging into the damp earth to keep himself upright.

"Fuck..."

But focus came at a price—his eyes burned as if they were being scoured from their sockets.

———

Kauã perched atop the pyramid, his sun-baked form sprawled across the ancient stones as he watched the herd of stag-beasts below. The hot wind whistled through the ruins, carrying the scent of dry earth and crumbling leaves. His half-spread wings twitched faintly with each gust.

Hours had passed since testing his Raptor Sight, and the aftereffects still throbbed behind his eyes—a blurred discomfort that had only now fully faded. The dawn's glare no longer seared him, and he could track every twitch of muscle in the grazing herd below.

The deer grazed peacefully, accustomed to the calm of that place. Their elegant bodies moved in slow rhythm, chewing leaves and grass, unaware of the predator watching them. One of them—a young male with a coppery coat—had strayed from the group, busy plucking tender shoots from a particularly lush patch of field.

Perfect.

Kauã rose to his feet, stretching his wings to their full span as they caught the wind. With a powerful thrust, he launched himself skyward, spiraling higher and higher. The air whistled in his ears as the ground below became a mosaic of greens and browns. At the peak of his ascent, he snapped his wings tight against his body and dove.

The world blurred into streaks of color. Wind howled against his face as he plummeted—a feathered missile, claws primed. His eyes locked onto his target: the distracted deer, neck bent, utterly vulnerable.

But then, at the last possible moment—the creature lifted its head.

A gust of wind, a razor-sharp reflex—the stag leaped aside with supernatural agility, its hind legs launching it like a coiled spring, hooves driving powerfully against the ground. Kauã's talons snapped shut on empty air, barely grazing the animal's flank.

The sting of failure hit almost as hard as the clumsy landing that followed. Kauã crashed down with a dull thud, tumbling across the rough grass before skidding to a stop. Dust plumed around him, the scent of churned earth thick in his nostrils.

The deer, now alerted, bolted in a synchronized stampede, their hooves drumming a retreat into the distance. All that remained was silence, the tremble in his own limbs, and the unspoken lesson:

Hunting was never as simple as it seemed.

————

The first purple rays of dawn filtered through the pyramid's cracks, painting stripes of light across the sleeping bodies. McCoy had been standing for hours, his stiff back pressed against the cold stone wall, watching the group with a commander's eyes.

No tech. No reinforcements. Just us against this world.

His fingers drummed against his M4A1 holster. They needed a better plan. Traps. Defenses. Of—

His gaze landed on the empty corner where Torphon should have been resting. The makeshift nest of leaves remained undisturbed, but the bird-man had vanished.

McCoy's brow furrowed.

'He should be sleeping after night watch.'

Moving with silent steps, the soldier crossed the main hall, weaving between slumbering forms. Reaching the entrance, he scanned the open field.

Nothing.

He climbed a nearby rock for a better view.

Nothing.

Even the pyramid's summit stood empty.

"Damn it."

McCoy stepped back inside to find Travis and Alistair already awake—one sharpening his knife, the other chewing something that smelled like rancid meat.

"Either of you seen Torphon?" McCoy's voice was low but sharp as a blade. "He's nowhere to be found."

Alistair shrugged, his fox ears twitching with sleep. "He was at the entrance when we switched shifts. After that, I crashed hard."

Travis didn't even look up from grinding his blade against stone.

"Relax, old man. Birdboy probably went out to play with those fancy wings of his." A crooked grin split his face. "Or maybe he became some critter's breakfast. Hahaha!"

McCoy ignored the jab, but his knuckles whitened around his rifle. Torphon was a valuable asset. And now he was missing.

A sudden explosion of sound ripped through the air like thunder from a clear sky. McCoy reacted first, his M4A1 already raised before his brain registered the threat. His movements were quick and precise as he advanced toward the entrance, his body coiled tight like a compressed spring.

The group rushed out behind him—some still groggy with sleep, others clutching makeshift weapons in unsteady hands.

The open field looked peaceful at first glance.

The false deer grazed, their silhouettes warped by the morning sun. The forest, miraculously, had fallen silent.

Then Ferreira shouted, finger stabbing toward the sky:

"Sir! There's something—!"

McCoy looked up just in time to see the dark shape plummeting like a meteor.

It was Torphon.

But not the Torphon they knew.

His body had become a living arrow—aerodynamic and lethal—hurtling toward the ground at impossible speed. And just as it seemed he would shatter against the earth—

He vanished.

Not like some trick of the light. As if the air itself had swallowed him whole.

The deer snapped their heads up in unison, nostrils flaring at the invisible threat.

Too late.

One shrieked as something yanked it off the ground with brutal force. The entire herd erupted into motion, hooves pounding the earth in frenzy—

—and there, at the epicenter of chaos, Torphon rematerialized.

His crouched form perched atop the carcass of a stag twice his size, talons buried deep in its throat. The deer no longer struggled. Its red eyes had glazed over, tongue lolling between serrated teeth.

The silence that followed weighed as heavy as the lifeless body.

The Torphon raised his head.

Vertical pupils drowned in a sea of glowing green. Dark blood dripped from his beak, staining his chest feathers.

He stared straight at McCoy.

Then—as if only now registering his audience—he released his grip. The stag collapsed with a hollow thud.

The massive stag's body hit the ground with a wet thud, kicking up a cloud of dust and dry grass. Kauã landed smoothly before McCoy, his wings folding back like a royal cloak. The scent of fresh blood and feral sweat clung to him, his talons still dripping black fluid onto the dirt.

McCoy didn't flinch. His fingers remained slightly curled near his M4A1 holster, but his gaze was tempered steel.

"I think the meat's edible," Kauã said, holding eye contact. His voice was rougher than usual—almost a growl.

The silence that followed was broken only by rustling leaves and the ragged breathing of some group members.

McCoy studied the carcass, then locked eyes with Kauã again.

"Next time you pull something like this, you give a warning. That's the play. Understood?"

There was an order there—but also a test. McCoy knew he was losing control. Kauã wasn't just a scared survivor anymore. He was a predator learning to wield his claws.

Kauã answered with his green eyes glinting in the sunlight.

"Yes, sir. Just honing my skills. Next time, you'll get your warning."

The reply was perfect. Submissive enough to stroke McCoy's ego—yet threaded with quiet defiance.

'I could crush your skull right now,' Kauã thought, feeling bestial strength thrumming through his muscles. 'But that weapon…'

His gaze flickered to the M4A1. He wasn't invincible. Not yet.

'I wasn't born to be a guard dog.'

The thought cut through his mind like a blade as he watched McCoy gesture with the rifle at his hip, barking orders at Ferreira and Jean. Sweat dripped down the man's neck, staining the frayed collar of his uniform. Takeda, Alistair, and Travis obeyed—not out of loyalty, but fear. Fear of that gun, of those handfuls of lead that would, sooner or later, run out.

The power simmering in his veins was immense. Wild. Raw. As natural as the beat of his wings. And this new world had no room for old hierarchies. Only one law:

'The strong devour the weak.'

And when the bullets were gone—

Who would become prey?

Kauã smiled inwardly. This new world had no use for rules. He'd earned his instincts, his claws, his wings—and he wouldn't wield them like some puppet. If they wanted a predator, they'd get a predator. But on his terms.

Ferreira approached, his boots sinking into the mud.

"Thorphon," he called, voice straining for steadiness but laced with hesitation. "Could you hunt more of those deer? Last night's meat wasn't enough… too many mouths to feed."

Kauã turned his head slowly, studying him. Ferreira's shoulders hunched slightly, as if bracing for refusal—or worse. The respect in his eyes was obvious, but hollow. The kind given to a chained beast.

'They need me. More than I need them.'

The muscles along his back tightened beneath his shirt, the hidden weight of his wings a constant reminder. A deer would be easy. But he wouldn't do it out of kindness. He'd do it because when chaos came—and it would come—he'd be the only one not relying on an empty gun to survive.

"I can," Kauã answered, his voice a low growl. "Not because you ordered it. Because I choose to."

His shoulders rolled, wings flaring slightly—a display of strength, a silent reminder that he was no longer a fragile human. Ferreira nodded too quickly, eyes widening.

"O-of course! It's just... for the group, you know?"

Kauã didn't respond. He simply turned and walked toward the forest, his steps deliberately slow—calculated.

McCoy watched him leave, fingers tense around the M4A1.

——

Kauã reviewed his system profile one last time before acting. The blue text glowed in his mind:

[ SYLORAN SYSTEM ]

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USER: Torphon

STAGE: 0

CURRENT TITLE: Adapted Novice

SUBTITLE: Son of the Sky

BEAST LEVEL: 1

VYRON: Enhanced Beast/Harpy Eagle

AFFILIATIONS: None

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His beast level had risen—a direct result of using his abilities so far.

'If I advance my stage…'

The thought echoed in his mind as he observed the distant camp.

"...surviving alone would be possible."

Yet another truth surfaced:

"Some experiences only a group can provide."

The wind ruffled his feathers as he stood motionless, balancing these two realities.

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[ System Quotes ]

4. "Fear is a mirror that distorts who we are; courage is the act of shattering it."