The humid air of Barden Yana hung heavy, carrying the scent of dust, vehicle exhaust, and something else—a faint, lingering sourness Elias now recognized as concentrated negative emotion. He observed the city with a grim new clarity. Dilapidated storefronts and overflowing gutters weren't just signs of neglect; they were potential breeding grounds. The constant low thrum of discontent, the fleeting anger of a frustrated driver, the quiet desperation in a street vendor's eyes—all contributed to the pervasive pollution that fueled the horrors.
His stomach rumbled, a stark reminder of his very human needs. He spotted a bustling market street in the distance, a kaleidoscope of vibrant fabrics and human activity. It promised life, but also a higher concentration of emotional output. Too risky for a direct Eldritch hunt, but perhaps an opportunity for a quick buck. He needed basic supplies, a phone, clothes that didn't smell of alley grime.
As he moved, his gaze, now instinctively drawn to anomalous energy signatures, caught a glint in a shadowed alcove between two crumbling buildings. Not a full Eldritch, but a pocket of particularly dense pollution, twisting and swirling like black smoke. It emanated a distinct aura of despair, a concentrated byproduct of the city's underbelly. It was an Eldritch seedling, barely Level 1.
He glanced around. The street was relatively empty, only a lone pedestrian hurrying past. A quick, discreet strike might go unnoticed. His hand tingled, the phantom sensation of the mouth stirring beneath his skin. This wasn't about power-leveling yet; it was about immediate survival, about pushing back against the encroaching darkness one small, monstrous bite at a time. He couldn't afford to be caught unawares, vulnerable and exposed in a city blissfully ignorant of the encroaching nightmare. He needed to be stronger, faster, and far more discreet.