The harsh wind carried the stench of war, mingling gunpowder and scorched metal in the aftermath of the first clash. The battlefield, once alive with chaos and shouts, now lay eerily silent under a settling dusk. The distant echoes of retreating Zanork-5 forces slowly faded into the background as the Earth Federation troops pulled back into temporary camp fortifications for regrouping.
At precisely 1800 hours, both auxiliary and artillery troops of the Terra Federation assembled within the central war base under the watchful command of Captain Rhal Marik, whose black-plated battle uniform still bore scorch marks from earlier combat. His crimson-trimmed cape fluttered slightly in the breeze as he stood atop a steel platform, flanked by Lieutenant Joran Vekk and Lieutenant Drahm.
Dray stood in the auxiliary ranks, his pulse steady, his weapon slung against his back. Exhausted but vigilant.
Captain Marik's voice boomed through the loudspeakers. "You've done well today."
His eyes scanned the exhausted soldiers. "You faced death and didn't blink. You held the line when it threatened to crumble. And for that, I commend you. But make no mistake—this was just the first wave."
The soldiers murmured quietly, weary but attentive.
"The Zanork-5 scum retreated today, but they'll be back. And next time, they'll be even more relentless. So rest while you can, eat well, reinforce your gear, and keep your weapons within reach. The second wave could begin at dawn—or sooner."
He paused, eyes narrowing. "War doesn't wait for comfort."
Then, in a more solemn tone: "Some of our brothers and sisters fell today. We honor them not with tears, but with our strength."
A respectful silence passed through the assembly before Captain Marik lifted his hand. "Dismissed."
Back in his assigned sleeping quarters, Dray dropped his gear by the side of his bunk. The combat suit clung to his frame, slick with sweat and grime. He sat still for a moment, absorbing the stillness—then stood abruptly and made his way to the sanitation unit at the far end of the corridor.
Once inside the metal-paneled restroom, he locked the door behind him and turned on the internal silence field. The soft buzz of the isolator confirmed no one would hear him from the outside.
He leaned against the mirror and whispered, "System."
The familiar blue interface screen blinked into view.
System Interface:
Name: Dray Ballack
Bloodline: Locked (Awakening Trigger Detected)
Race: Human (???)
Level: 7
Class: None
Strength: 9
Agility: 9
Endurance: 4
Vitality: 6
Skills:
• Night Adaptation (Passive)
• Blood Sense (Passive – Incomplete)
• Blood Echo (Tier I)
Inventory:
• Rusted Circuit Knife
• Obsidian Data Chip
• Unknown Crystal (Bound)
• Model-X Plasma Rifle
• Thermal Bayonet
• Auto-Adaptive Energy Shield
System Shop: [Access Granted – Insufficient Permissions for Purchase]
Next Level: 410 EXP
Status: Stable
Dray exhaled slowly. "Is there a skill… something for stealth or assassination?"
The system responded with a neutral tone.
System Response:
"Assassination-based skill detected in system shop: Shadow Fang (Middle Tier). Prerequisites: Level 10 and Bloodline Activation."
Dray frowned. "But I was rewarded a free skill. Can't I use that?"
System Notice:
"Current skill reward tier: Low Tier. 'Shadow Fang' exceeds allowed reward tier. However, a temporary override can be granted under System Borrowing Protocol. Skill will be borrowed at 10% Proficiency. Permanent acquisition possible after meeting requirements."
"Borrowed?" Dray tilted his head. "What's the drawback?"
System Notification:
"Borrowed skills require more stamina. Skill growth is restricted to borrowed use until officially acquired. Should host fail to meet criteria within allotted progression window, skill access will be revoked."
He mulled it over briefly.
"Alright. Activate borrowing protocol. Add Shadow Fang."
A sudden pulse fired through his mind. It wasn't pain—but something sharp, clean, and terrifyingly cold. The system dimmed, and foreign data etched itself into his memory.
Assassination routes. Artery maps. Pressure points. Entry angles. Evade patterns.
And then it appeared:
Skill Added:
• Shadow Fang (Middle Tier – 10%)
— Active Stealth Kill Technique: A precise, high-speed strike that targets vital points. At 10%, kill probability is reduced unless attack lands cleanly. Cooldown: 45 seconds.
He slumped briefly against the wall, catching his breath.
"System… what does 10% mean in this context?"
System Answer:
"Skill Proficiency. Current usage effectiveness is at 10%. Mastery increases with use. 100% signifies perfect mastery."
Dray nodded slowly. "So… I just need to keep using it, and it grows."
System Response:
"Affirmative."
A twisted smirk tugged at the edge of his lips.
Then he washed his hands and left the restroom. The night was cooling, but his blood simmered with anticipation.
He returned to his bunk, pulling the blanket over himself. Around him, the room was filled with quiet snoring and shifting bodies. The heavy scent of soldiers who had survived battle but hadn't yet cleaned themselves lingered thick in the air.
But Dray didn't sleep.
His fingers subconsciously tapped the hilt of the thermal bayonet by his side.
Tomorrow would bring the second wave.
Tonight, he planned.
And when the moment came…
He would strike.