The brown-haired boy tore into the rat with a hunger that seemed endless, teeth sinking through flesh, blood running down his hands. "I… I don't know… why," he muttered, punching the ground so hard his wrist cracked—and then healed before Adam's eyes.
The craving fogged his mind, gnawing at him, leaving him still thirsty. Adam watched silently, his expression unreadable.
The boy crawled backward, manic and fearful, hands clawing at his hair and face. "This body… it's painful. I thought I knew the game… I didn't know it would be… this hollow."
Adam's eyes narrowed. Something clicked. "Wait… are you… from another world?"
The boy rose, towering over him, eyes hollow and white. "Yes," he hissed, voice manic, teeth bared. "Forgive me… you're the only one who looks alive."
He lunged, a blur of fury. Adam felt his reflexes surge beyond anything he had known. Human quads could only produce two to five times the normal force—but his had multiplied tenfold, then amplified again, triple that. He met the boy's charge with precise motion.
A kick sent the brown-haired boy slamming into a house, his body twisting unnaturally as bones broke and reformed in seconds. He came at Adam again, sprinting on all fours, swiping with hands that pulsed with red energy. It hit nothing. Adam sidestepped, sighing. "C'mon… just stop this. Who are you anyway?"
The boy snapped at him, teeth bared. Adam struck his head with force enough to nearly detach it. Surprised, he found the boy's hands on his shoulders, grappling wildly. Fingers clawed at Adam's eyes. Anger flared; he struck the boy again, dodged, and felt teeth sink into his shoulder. Pain flared, but he twisted, threw him to the ground.
They both huffed, exhausted. "Are you crazy or something?" Adam asked.
The boy retched, weak, crawling over the carcass of the rat. "Hungry… thirsty…" His body moved like nothing had been done to it, wounds closing before Adam's eyes.
Minutes passed. The boy's hunger finally subsided. Adam knelt. "Are you done?" he asked, wondering why he even stayed with this… thing.
[Blood-sucking monster.]
Rehan's voice flickered in his mind. C'mon, Adam… we've faced monsters, automatons, even people with power…
[But this… this is different.] Her tone carried fear, silent terror at the life being drained from the corpses.
The boy calmed, standing hunched and defeated. "I… I can't believe it. I'm a monster."
Adam crossed his arms. "Yeah… it was… something, watching you do that. Well. That's done."
The boy stared at his own hands, pain in his expression. "What's happening to me?" The hollow gnawing in him—thirst and hunger that never left—persisted, a constant emptiness.
They walked in silence toward the crossroads. Adam broke it. "So… who are you?"
The boy sighed. "Karrin. That's what I was… at least, I had something once."
Adam gave a faint smile. "Well… you're still alive. That's something."
A low growl cut through the forest. A wolf emerged, eyes gleaming. Adam felt a strange hunger stir, but before he could react, Karrin lunged. The wolf yelped, red aura suffusing its body, suffocating it in moments.
Later, Adam tended the fire, butchering meat with his hands. Karrin sat nearby, hunched, staring at the stump of a tree, contemplative. The hunger had subsided, but the gnawing remained—an eternal lament of suffering he could never escape, even in sleep.
The meat was tough, unlike anything familiar—sharp, strong, heavy with smoke and a hint of ash. Adam ate, savoring the raw survival, while Karrin wandered, restless.
"You alright?" Adam asked.
"I can't… sleep," Karrin admitted. "Tired… but can't sleep."
Adam smirked faintly, touched by the simplicity of it, the shared suffering. "Want to eat?"
Karrin tasted it and nearly vomited. "It… tastes like s#!t."
"Sure… no seasoning," Adam said, shrugging, a tired smile on his face.
Karrin collapsed onto the grass, consciousness fading, thoughts of control and power absent, replaced by hatred for the one who had done this to him. Adam watched, exhausted but resigned.
[C'mon, Adam… I'll watch.]
He drifted to sleep, comforted by the presence of someone—anyone—on this journey, even if she wasn't physically there.
A sudden noise stirred the roads. Soldiers with carts and crates appeared, shouting. "What are you doing here?! This place is dangerous!"
A
Adam groaned, fatigue weighing on him. Annoyance flickered across his face. Are you kidding me?
He rose quickly, soldiers drawing their swords with wary hands, eyes darting between him and Karrin. "Survivors," one muttered, disbelief in his tone. They glanced at the two of them, unarmed, uncertain.
Karrin shifted behind Adam, hunger still gnawing at him, yet the vial from the monster he had fed on earlier seemed to anchor him—granting a fleeting control over the primal craving for blood and flesh. Adam couldn't help but feel impressed; denying that kind of thirst was no small feat.
"We're just survivors of Pinestone," Adam said casually, shrugging, as if it explained everything.
The soldiers froze, astonishment etched across their faces. "What in glorious existence have we encountered…? You're lying!" one finally blurted.
Adam considered telling the truth, then realized it didn't matter. "Yeah…" he replied simply, his tone carrying no conviction, only weariness.
[To be Continued]
A young boy with dark hair darted forward, only to be stopped by a gray-haired soldier who gripped his shoulder. "Is my brother still alive? I heard the Witchmaster cast death upon the town!"
The old man's hand came down sharply on the boy's cheek. "Boy, get a hold of yourself! Nothing survives an encounter with that monster. How dare you speak such lies!"
Their eyes flicked to Adam and Karrin, confusion and fear intermingled. Karrin towered above them, deathly pale, yet strikingly tall. The sight unsettled the soldiers, their minds struggling to reconcile his emaciated appearance with his imposing stature. Adam sighed, shaking his head. "There's not a single person I know of… I think."
[…]
Rehan?
[Nothing…]
Karrin's mind churned, calculating. "I can't let this chance slip… Traveller, if you could say…"
The soldiers remained wary, red eyes lingering on them, unsure whether these nomads were pacifists or something far more dangerous. They had no swords, yet there was a latent threat in their presence.
A figure with long hair tied in a bowtie stepped forward suddenly, pointing. "Wait a minute… That person has the mark of the curse!" His voice cracked with fear as he stared at Adam and Karrin's red eyes...