The psychic shield flickered, strained beyond its limits as the monstrous horde surged forward. Arvan's muscles burned with exhaustion, but adrenaline forced him to stand firm. The creatures crashed against his fragile barrier like waves battering a cliff, each impact threatening to tear him apart.
His breaths were ragged, and the metallic tang of blood filled his mouth. His mind spun, struggling to process the chaos as panic gnawed at his resolve.
Why didn't I know this would be so hard? he thought bitterly. In all those games and stories, I was always the hero. Here, I'm just a scared man with powers I barely control.
A sudden crack split the air—a claw breached the psychic shield, grazing his arm and sending a jolt of searing pain through his nerves. Arvan gasped, staggering back.
He fell to one knee, vision swimming. The creatures roared triumphantly, their monstrous forms closing in. The sense of doom pressed in like a vise.
This is it...
But deep inside, a spark flickered—a stubborn flame fueled by something stronger than fear. The years spent dreaming of heroes, the quiet hours lost in novels and games—they had taught him something. Not just tactics, but hope.
Gathering the last of his strength, Arvan clenched his fists, summoning energy from the very fabric of the starship's fractured dimensional rifts. His eyes glowed faint blue as psychic power surged through his veins.
Time seemed to slow.
With a roar, he unleashed a blast of energy so fierce it shattered nearby consoles and threw the creatures backward like ragdolls.
The corridor fell silent—except for the ringing in Arvan's ears and the heavy thud of his heartbeat.
He stood, trembling but alive.
For the first time, he tasted what it truly meant to wield a fraction of the EsGod's power—not as a perfect god, but as a flawed human learning to stand against impossible odds.
The creatures recoiled from the sudden blast, their grotesque forms thrown against the walls with a series of heavy thuds. The air trembled with residual energy, and sparks danced from damaged conduits overhead. For a brief moment, silence stretched—a fragile bubble in the heart of chaos.
Arvan's lungs burned as he bent over, hands braced against the cold floor. Sweat dripped down his forehead, mixing with the grime and blood smearing his face. His breathing was ragged, shallow, but steadying. Every instinct screamed to collapse and give in to exhaustion, but the relentless terror that stalked him gave no quarter.
He raised his head slowly, eyes scanning the dim corridor ahead. Several of the creatures writhed, stunned but not dead, their glowing eyes fixing on him with renewed malice. Behind them, the flickering red emergency lights cast eerie, broken shadows across the walls.
Suddenly, a deafening alarm cut through the air, echoing through the ship's skeleton like a death knell. The floor trembled beneath his feet. A warning flashed inside his mind:
[Core Breach Imminent – Evacuation Protocols Engaged]
Panic seized Arvan's heart. The starship—the only refuge he had—was dying.
He forced himself to his feet, though his legs felt like lead. Each step was a battle against the pounding ache radiating from his side. The psychic energy reservoir inside him flickered dangerously low.
I can't keep this up. I'm not a fighter. I'm just a man… The thought stabbed like a dagger, but he shoved it away. He had to move. He had to survive.
The creatures hesitated, sensing his faltering strength. They hissed, regrouping for another assault.
Arvan's eyes flickered to a side passage partially concealed by debris. It led to the maintenance tunnels—the ship's underbelly, a labyrinth of pipes and conduits where few dared to venture.
If he could reach the armory, maybe he could find weapons or reinforcements. But the path was uncertain, crawling with dangers unseen.
He gritted his teeth and sprinted, every muscle screaming, through the twisting corridors. The sound of pounding claws echoed closer. The stench of burning ozone and decay thickened.
His powers wavered, but with grim determination, he summoned a weak dimensional fold beneath his feet. The air rippled, distorting the metal walls as he took a brief shortcut through an unstable rift.
The world around him flickered; the colors bled and warped as he hurtled through impossible space.
He landed roughly on the other side, clutching his ribs as pain flared anew. Gritting his teeth, he pushed forward.
Suddenly, a low growl rose from the shadows. Another creature—larger, more terrifying—emerged, its mechanical limbs clicking like deadly clockwork.
Arvan's heart slammed against his ribs.
He focused, reaching deep for the psychic reserves left within him. His eyes glowed faintly once again, the blue light steadying with the clarity of focus.
Slowly, the ground beneath the creature's feet warped and trembled as a dimensional ripple curled around its legs, slowing its movements.
Using this opening, Arvan surged forward, slamming his fists into the creature's side. Psychic energy flared with each strike, and the beast snarled, staggering back.
The fight dragged on, brutal and exhausting, but with every hit, Arvan's confidence grew.
At last, the creature collapsed, twitching spasms of failed systems.
Breathing heavily, Arvan slumped against the cold wall, the last flicker of energy draining from his body.
His mind reeled with exhaustion—but amidst the pain and fear, a seed of understanding had taken root.
He was no hero born in legend, but a man forged in the crucible of survival.