The System's twenty-four-hour countdown was a ticking clock in Kai's mind, each passing hour ratcheting up his anxiety. His Anima Core Stability continued its slow, inexorable decline: 60%... 55%... 50%... With each drop, he felt a corresponding degradation in his own state. A persistent, gnawing ache settled deep in his bones. His enhanced senses, usually a source of overwhelming clarity, began to betray him, sounds becoming distorted and sharp, lights too bright, smells acrid and overwhelming. He was irritable, snapping at Elara over a spilled glass of water, a response so unlike him that it left both of them shocked and his mother looking at him with worried eyes.
Sleep offered no escape, filled with fragmented nightmares of blood, shadow, and the cold, impassive text of the System. He'd wake in a cold sweat, the phantom taste of raw flesh in his mouth, his hands sometimes clenched so tight his fingernails – which seemed sharper, harder – bit into his palms. On the third day after the "Sustenance Advisory," with his stability hovering at a perilous 45%, the System's messages became more frequent, more insistent:
[WARNING: Anima Core Stability at 45%. Uncontrolled Manifestation Probability: Moderate. Recommend Immediate Tier 2 Sustenance Acquisition.]
Then:
[SYSTEM ADVISORY: Physical tremors detected. Minor involuntary Anima leakage occurring. Control is paramount. Sustenance protocol should be initiated without further delay.]
He felt it too. A faint tremor in his hands. Patches of his skin would sometimes shimmer for a moment with an almost imperceptible, scale-like pattern before fading. His reflection showed his slitted pupils were now almost permanently dilated, the amber glow within them more intense, more feral. He was losing control.
He knew he couldn't let it happen at home, or at school. The thought of transforming, of hurting his family, or Leo, or innocent bystanders, was a horror beyond imagining. The alley. The memory of what he'd done to the Junkyard Dogs was a nauseating wave, but beneath it, a colder, more pragmatic thought surfaced, a whisper from the System, or perhaps from the desperate, predatory core of his new Anima: It worked. It stabilized you.
That evening, with his stability at 42% and the System flashing [CRITICAL ALERT: ANIMA CORE INTEGRITY COMPROMISED. SUSTAIN OR FACE SYSTEM-INITIATED EMERGENCY PROTOCOLS.], Kai knew he couldn't wait any longer. "Emergency Protocols" sounded terrifyingly final.
He lied to his mother about needing to pick up an extra shift for a late-night delivery, a story she accepted with a tired sigh and a plea to be careful. He slipped out into the oppressive darkness of District 7, his body aching, his senses screaming, the hunger a live thing coiling in his gut. It wasn't just a physical craving anymore; it was a desperate, primal need that clouded his thoughts, making it hard to focus on anything but the gnawing emptiness.
He found himself drawn towards the fringes of District 7, near the industrial wasteland bordering District 8 – a place of violence and desperation, a place where life was cheap. The System, almost as if guiding him, occasionally flashed updates: [Low-level hostile signatures detected 0.5km East. Probable crew skirmish.] He didn't consciously decide to head that way, but his feet moved as if on their own.
He heard the sounds of a fight before he saw it – grunts, the clang of metal on metal, a choked scream. Peering from behind a stack of discarded chemical drums, he saw two smaller crews clashing over a meager stash of scavenged tech. It was a messy, brutal affair. As quickly as it began, it was over. One crew fled, leaving two of their fallen behind, while the victors hastily grabbed their spoils and disappeared into the night.
One of the fallen was clearly dead. The other, a young man no older than Kai, lay moaning, clutching a grievous wound in his side, his discarded pipe wrench just out of reach. He was alive, but barely. Alone. Vulnerable.
Kai's heart hammered against his ribs. This was it. A choice. Walk away, let the kid die, and face his own Anima's catastrophic meltdown? Or…
The hunger, the need, roared within him, drowning out the last vestiges of his revulsion, his fear. The System's cold logic echoed: Sustain. Survive. Evolve.
He didn't remember moving. One moment he was watching, paralyzed by indecision; the next, he was falling upon the wounded gang member like a starving wolf. There was a brief, desperate struggle, a gurgling cry cut short. Then, only the sounds of tearing, of consumption, and a red haze that enveloped Kai's senses. It was a frenzied, instinctual act, devoid of thought, driven solely by the primal command of his Anima and the desperate logic of the System.
When the red haze finally cleared, Kai found himself kneeling amidst a scene of fresh carnage, his body trembling, his breath coming in ragged gasps. The coppery taste of blood was thick in his mouth, but the gnawing ache in his bones was gone. The tremors had stopped. He felt… strong. Sated. Horribly, terrifyingly alive.
A series of System messages scrolled across his vision, cool and impassive:
[Tier 2 Sustenance Assimilated: Humanoid (Combatant Class – Minor Threat). Significant bio-energy acquired.] [+4 Strength] [+5 Vitality] [+4 Stamina] [Anima Core Stability Restored: 92%] [Commendation: Optimal Resource Acquisition Under Duress. Conduit adaptability increasing.]
Kai stared at the messages, at his bloodied hands, at the remains of his "optimal resource." The self-loathing that washed over him was a tidal wave, threatening to drown him. He had done it again. He had killed. He had fed. And the System, his constant, silent companion, had rewarded him for it, even praised him.
He scrambled away, vomiting violently into the dirt, the taste of his monstrous meal and the System's commendation a vile cocktail in his throat. He was a monster. A monster who was getting stronger, a monster whose survival seemed to depend on becoming ever more monstrous.
The sirens were distant this time, or perhaps his senses were merely dulled by the shock and the satiation. He fled into the night, a different kind of countdown now beginning in his soul – how long until the hunger returned? How long until he had to make this horrific bargain again?