The crawlspace was a tomb of silence, lit only by the faint, ethereal, blue glow of the [Glow-Cap Shrooms]. This was Klik's workshop. His hovel. His sanctuary.
And he was desecrating it with his agony.
He sat, cross-legged, a grotesque, pink, skinless thing. His Lvl 15 body, with its 19 Stamina, was a fortress. But the [E-Rank Acid-Burns] were a tide of fire-ants, a constant, maddening, sizzling itch that crawled over every inch of his exposed, nerve-ending-rich dermis.
His 33 Intelligence, a god-tier processor, a diamond of pure, cold reason, was trapped inside this torture-chamber of a body.
He was a King. He was a God. And he could not stop scratching.
His 12-Strength arms were weak. His 14-Agility legs were slow. He was crippled.
"The pain of the remedy," his 33 INT rasped in his mind, a cold proverb from a warm life, "is part of the cure."
He had survived the acid. That was the cure. This... itching, agonizing, permanentdebuff... was the remedy.
And he refused it.
He would not be crippled. He could notheal his skin.
So, he would replace it.
He dragged his treasures towards him.
[Warped E-Rank Chitin Plate (Poor)] x 3.
[Hardened Chitin Fragments (Common)] (a pile of them).
[Cured Leather Scraps (Common)] (from Gruk's hide).
[Cured Sinew-Cord (Common)] (from the Grave-Hound).
He was a Lvl 7 [Field Scavenger]. He was a Master-Tinker of Junk.
He laid one of the [Warped E-Rank Chitin Plates] on the floor. It was the size of his torso. It was black, fire-twisted, and impossibly hard.
He activated[Refine Material (Lvl 1)].
[...Check Failed! Your skill is not high enough to refine E-Rank materials.]
"Fine," he hissed, the sound dry in his acid-burned throat.
He couldn'tRefine it. But he could [Improvise].
He took the plate. He took his [Nail-Studded Club] (his crutch) and his [E-Rank Chitin-Shiv].
He began to work.
He slammed the club on the plate, using his 12 Strength to bludgeon it, not to break it, but to shape it.
THUD. THUD. THUD.
The sound was deafening in the small alcove.
He used the shiv to carve holes, his 33 INT guiding his trembling, crippled hands, forcing the E-Rank sliver through the E-Rank plate. It was slow. It was grueling.
After an hour, the plate was shaped. It was a crude, ugly, blackenedbreastplate.
Now... the hard part.
He held it up to his chest.
His raw, pink, weeping, sizzling-itchychest.
He took a needle—a shard of [Hardened Chitin Fragment] he'd [Refined].
He took a thread—a strand of [Cured Sinew-Cord].
He had to attach it. He had to stitch it... to himself.
His 33 INT knew it was the only way. The armor had to fuse with his new, calloused hide. It had to become his skin.
He took a breath. It pulled at his tight, burned chest, searing him.
He plunged the needleinto the raw-pink, calloused-flesh of his shoulder.
...
...
The worldvanished.
It was not the hot, explosive pain of the cauterization.
It was a cold, sharp, intimateviolation.
He screamed. A silent, open-mouthedgasp, his acid-glandgurgling in protest.
His [Chitin-Studded Hide-Shield]... Bruk had it.
He grabbed a [Goblin Bone (Junk)] and shoved it in his mouth.
He bit down. CRUNCH.
And he worked.
Stitch. Pull.
The sinew-cordsankinto his raw-pink flesh, stitching it to the hard, E-Rank plate.
Stitch. Pull.
Blood, new blood, welled up, black-green and viscous, mixing with the acid-slime.
Stitch. Pull.
He was not a goblin. He was not a human.
He was a machine. A machine of fury and willpower and 33 Intelligence.
[Improvise (Lvl 2) Check (Int 33) vs. Difficulty (18)... Success!]
[Junk-Tinker (Lvl 1) Check (Int 33) vs. Difficulty (20)... Success!]
[You have created a [Acid-Fused Chitin-Plate (Unique)]!]
[Your skill [Improvise] has gained proficiency...!]
[Your skill [Junk-Tinker] has gained proficiency...!]
[...CLASS LEVELED UP!]
[Class Level 7 -> Class Level 8]
[Intelligence +1, Perception +1]
[You have learned a new Class Skill!]
[Armor-Tinker (Lesser) - Lvl 1 (Passive)]:Your [Improvise] and [Junk-Tinker] skills now apply to [Armor]. You can now [Refine] and [Craft] [Common] and [Poor] grade armor. 10% bonus to all [Armor]-related crafting checks.
He gasped, the bone in his mouthsplintering.
The pain... was gone.
No. It wasn'tgone. It was different.
The [E-Rank Acid-Burns] debuff was... gone.
It had been replaced.
[DEBUFF/BUFF ACQUIRED: [Fused E-Rank Armor] (Unique)!]
Your [E-Rank Acid-Burns] have been sealed by a grotesque, stitched-on piece of E-Rank Chitin. Your nerves are covered. Your wounds are protected. Your flesh is fusing with the plate. This is now part of you.
Effect (Buff): +40 Physical Defense, +15 Acid Resistance.
Effect (Debuff): The fusing-process is agonizing. The armor is heavy and unbalanced.
Effect (Debuff): -3 Agility, -3 Strength.
Duration: Permanent (until... if... it everheals).
He stared.
He had traded a crippling, -5 AGI/STR debuff of pure-agony... for a crippling, -3 AGI/STR debuff of armor-plated-agony.
His new stats:
STR: 14 (17 – 3).
AGI: 16 (19 – 3).
INT: 34.
PER: 29.
He was stronger. He was faster. He was armored.
He had won.
He laughed, a *dry, painful, clickingcackle. He felt the stitchespull in his new, raw chest.
He felt... good.
He looked at the [Volcanic Gastropod Core]. The bomb.
Difficulty 25.
His new [Lvl 8 Class]... his new 34 INT... his new [Armor-Tinker]...
He could do this.
He reached for it.
He [Analyzed] it.
[Passive: [Analysis] detects a flaw in the energy-matrix!]
His 34 INT saw it. A fracture. A way-in.
He grabbed his tools. [Cured Sinew-Cord]. [Iron Fragments]. A [Pressure-Plate (Junk)] he'd already built.
He began to tinker.
This was notstitching. This was neurosurgery.
His raw, pink, scarred hands moved with impossibleprecision. He wrapped the sinew around the core, nottouching it, but guiding its energy-field. He built a [Hinge-Trigger]... a dead-man's-switch.
[Junk-Tinker (Lvl 1) Check (Int 34) vs. Difficulty (25)...]
His Mana (16) poured into it.
[...CHECK FAILED!]
FZZZZT-KRAK!
The Coreflared!
A wave of pure, thermal-energyblasted him backward.
[WARNING: VOLATILE ENERGY SPIKE!]
[You have suffered [Minor-Thermal-Burns]!]
He slammed into the wall of his hovel. His new [Acid-Fused Chitin-Plate] took the impact. CRACK!
He was alive.
But the [JUnk-Tinker]components... were slag. Melted.
He looked at the Core. It was pulsating... angrily.
He couldn't do it.
He was smart. But he was not smart enough. His skill was too low.
He was stuck with a live-bomb he couldn'tdisarmorweaponize.
He cursed, a long, hissing, acidicstream of fury.
Failure.
He scooped up the angry, yellow, bomb-core. He stuffed it back into his leather-pouch.
He had to get out.
Part 2: The Evolving Tribe
While Klik was performing self-surgery and failing-to-build-a-bomb...
The Great Cavern was thriving.
(By goblin standards.)
Grik (Lvl 4) was King... of the bonfire. He strutted. He had a Spear. He was the King's-Hand.
He directed the other goblins, smacking them with the flat of his spear (he dared notbreak Klik's gift).
"COOK!" he yelled, pointing at the mountain of charred-roach-husks—the new fuel.
"EAT!" he yelled, pointing at the pile of [Tainted Roach Meat] his hunting-party had brought.
The 29 other goblins obeyed.
They ate.
They ate the [Tainted Roach Meat].
They ate the remains of Gruk'scooked-flesh.
They ate the leftover, rubberyscraps of the [Gave-Hound Hide].
They were Lvl 1 and 2.
And they allconsumed... Essence.
Insectoid. Goblinoid. Canine-Carrion.
It was a buffet of evolutionary-chaos.
And the Systemresponded.
[Subject [Goblin (Unnamed)] has consumed [Tainted Roach Meat]!] [EXP Gained: 1!]
[Subject [Goblin (Unnamed)] has consumed [Cooked Goblin Meat]!] [EXP Gained: 2!]
[Subject [Goblin (Unnamed)] has consumed [Grave-Hound Hide]!] [EXP Gained: 3!]
A chorus of Level-Upsrippled through the cavern.
The entire tribe hitLvl 2. Half of them hitLvl 3.
They felt it. They felt... less-miserable.
And one...
A small, scrawny, Lvl 2female goblin. She was quicker than the others. She had hidden in the shadows when Grik and Bruk were handing-out the Hound-Hide, and she had stolen a large, sinewypiece.
She ate it all.
She leveled. (Lvl 2 -> Lvl 3).
And then... something else.
Her earstwitched. Her flat, broadnosewrinkled.
She gasped.
She smelled it.
She smelled the [Glow-Cap Shrooms] in Klik'salcove.
She smelled the [Iron Fragments] he was crafting with.
She smelled... him. The acid. The blood. The ozone of the bomb-core.
Her 3-INT mind exploded with new data.
[Subject [Snarl] has consumed a threshold of [Canine-Carrion Essence]!]
[Subject [Snarl (Lvl 3)] has unlocked a new Racial Trait!]
[New Racial Trait Acquired: [Lesser Scent-Hunter (Passive)]!]
This monster's [Perception] is now dominated by scent. Can detect and track all creatures (Lvl 10 or lower) by smell within 50 meters.
She gasped... and looked... directly at the crawlspace-tunnel...
...and at the main-tunnel.
She smelled... something new.
Far away.
Metal. Stone. Dust.
Part 3: The Alarm and the Arrival
Klik emerged.
He hobbled out of the crawlspace.
The tribestopped. The chewing, munching, celebratingdied.
They saw him.
He was not the pink, skinless, rawthing that had left.
He was a monster.
He was wearingarmor. A black, grotesque, fused-chitin-plate was stitchedto his chest, gleamingwetly in the firelight. The raw-pink of his skinpeaked out around his limbs and neck.
He looked bigger. Wider. More terrifying.
He wasn'tlimping as badly. (His 14 STR and 16 AGI were an improvement).
He stalked into the cavern, his [E-Rank Chitin-Shiv] in his hand.
He [Appraised] his tribe.
He saw the level-ups.
He [Appraised]Snarl.
He saw her new trait.
His 34 INT was delighted.
A tracker. His. Finally.
"Thefirststep to catching themonkeyisseeingwhere itsleeps."*
She was his eyes.
This was progress. This was order.
He was just about to speak, to give his new, glorious, complexcommands...
And then...
THUD.
Bruk (Lvl 5), his Guard, his meat-shield, who was supposed to be watching the main-tunnel... had gotten bored.
He banged his club on his shield. THUD!
He banged it on the wall. THUD!
He banged it on the floor.
THUD...
...twang.
His clubhit the [Cured Sinew-Cord]tripwire.
The [Hinge-Trigger (Junk)]snapped.
The [Pressure-Plate (Junk)]activated.
Klik screamed.
"BRUK! YOU IDIOT! NO!"
It was too late.
The [Hinge-Trigger]swung.
The [Tar-Pot]tilted.
It fell.
It smasheddirectly into the raging, ten-foot-tallbonfire.
FWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMPH!
The worldignited.
A thirty-foot-pillar of sticky, black, oily-fireerupted in the center of the cavern.
It vaporized the entire, newly-acquiredpile of roach-meat.
It sent a tidal wave of heat and flameblastingoutward.
The entire goblin-tribe screamed and was blownbackward.
Bruk, who was standingright next to it, was doused. He became a screaming, flailing, goblin-torch, covered in burning, sticky tar.
"GAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH! HOT! HOT!"
The alarm had worked.
It was the loudest, brightest, mostcatastrophicsuccess of Klik'sentire life.
And in the light of this new, sudden, roaringinferno...
...down the main tunnel...
The sound...
Scrape... click-click-CLICK...
...stopped.
The [Metallic]thing... had heard the explosion.
Klik scrambled to his feet. He ignored the burning, screamingBruk.
He looked down the tunnel.
They were silhouetted.
Three of them.
They were notbeasts. They were notslugs.
They were upright. They were taller than him.
They were covered in armor that shone in the firelight.
Notbone. Nothide.
Metal. And Chitin.
They looked like insects. Ants. But walking on two legs.
Scrape... one of them took a step forward.
Click-click-CLICK... another onetilted its head, its two, long, metallicantennaetasting the air.
They saw the burning-goblin.
They saw the panicked-tribe.
They saw the crippled, pink, armor-stitched-King.
And the lead one raised a hand...
...and spoke.
A voice that was not a hiss. Not a growl.
It was a series of sharp, complex, chitteringmandible-clicks.
And Klik's 34-INT brain... backed by his 80% [Insectoid Essence]...
...understood it.
"...Meat. Weak. New... meat. Kill. Take. Good. Spoils..."
The threat had arrived.
And it was intelligent.