Silence hung over the room like a heavy shroud, broken only by Alex's ragged breaths, each one shuddering in his chest. Darkness swallowed the abandoned space he found himself in, the faint light seeping through the window tracing silver threads across the cold stone walls. Yet beneath this deathly calm, his heart pounded like war drums, warning his body of the impending catastrophe.
Then he heard it… footsteps.
They approached slowly, each thud reverberating through the floor like the dragging of some massive creature across the earth. Something inside Alex recoiled; his instincts screamed that whatever emerged from behind that door would be neither friendly nor human.
The air around him grew thick with dread. Shadows danced on the walls, as if stalking him. In the distance, strange cries echoed—a muffled howl mixed with a metallic screech, sending a shiver up the back of his neck. That was the moment he decided he would not wait for death.
He closed his eyes and called upon the remaining mana within him—the energy he had been learning to direct in this strange world. From the depths of his consciousness, from that dark point where his will hid, the energy began to gather.
Silver threads of light spilled from his chest, swirling around him like a metallic mist, thickening until they took shape. Before him appeared an armored octopus, its body translucent yet streaked with a steel-like gleam, each cell seemingly made of shatterproof glass. Its metallic scales shimmered in the moonlight, evoking a strange duality of beauty and threat.
The octopus was no ordinary creature. It was a spiritual manifestation—an extension of Alex's very will. Yet it seemed alive, pulsing with a strange, latent energy.
It rose around him, forming a living shield that enveloped his body. The octopus's head hovered over his chest and shoulders, curving like a protective armor against approaching threats. Its eight arms coiled around him with supernatural flexibility, waiting for his command.
Each arm was like a deadly weapon, covered in dense metallic scales ending in sharp tips resembling spears. When they touched the floor, a faint sound echoed, the grinding of metal against stone. The sight alone was enough to strike fear into any enemy—but for Alex, it was a newfound sense of safety, a reassurance that he was no longer alone.
The footsteps resumed, closer this time. The sound halted at the old wooden door. For a brief moment, there was only silence—then a faint noise, as if something were breathing just beyond it.
Alex froze. He dared not move, focusing all his senses. By sheer will, he sent a mental signal to the octopus.
The creature's metallic arms began to move slowly, creeping across the room like sentient shadows, readying for the imminent attack.
Suddenly—a heavy strike!
The door shuddered violently, followed by another blow, stronger this time, splintering the wood into shards that flew through the air.
Through the rising dust… emerged the creature.
It stood roughly five feet seven inches tall, its gray skin resembling hardened clay. Its eyes were vast, completely black, devoid of whites. From its head extended long, twisted horns, like petrified strands of hair. It was neither human nor animal.
A black spear rested in its grip, the metal absorbing light rather than reflecting it. Every motion of the spear sent a tightening sensation through Alex, as if danger itself radiated from it.
The creature's gaze locked onto Alex. It was no ordinary look… it was the stare of a predator who had found fresh prey. A low roar emerged, a mixture of rage and hunger. It took a step forward, and the armored octopus instinctively coiled its arms around Alex in a defensive stance.
Suddenly, the creature seemed ready to scream—but Alex moved first.
With a single thought, one of the octopus's tentacles, long and gleaming, wrapped tightly around the creature's neck. Alex rendered it completely transparent, invisible to the human eye, as if the creature choked on nothing, while unseen arms pressed against its airway.
The being struggled, raising its spear to resist, but Alex was faster. Two more arms seized its arms, immobilizing it entirely. Then the fourth probe—the spear-like appendage—launched with incredible speed, piercing the creature's left chest and exiting through its back in one swift motion.
Everything stopped.
Time itself seemed to freeze.
Alex remained standing, breathing heavily, eyes fixed on the creature as its body slowly collapsed. The probes held it even after death, then drew the corpse to the floor at his feet. The scene was shocking… vividly real, with the warmth of blood and the harshness of mortality.
Alex studied the creature for long seconds. Though everything had happened in mere moments, his mind stretched the experience, making it feel like he had been the executioner for centuries. Sweat dripped from his brow, his hands trembled, yet his gaze remained sharp, cold, and unwavering.
He whispered to himself, barely audible:
"What kind of world is this…?"
He bent to examine the body. There was nothing human in it; the skin was tough, blood dark blue, features twisted, teeth long, muscles taut as if built solely for combat.
"This thing was never human," Alex murmured, taking a deep breath to process what had occurred. He remembered the predatory look in its eyes—the primal hunger, void of reason or mercy. It had been born to hunt.
Alex lifted his gaze to the ceiling, feeling a chill crawl over his skin. Yet a strange sense of relief seeped into his chest. He felt no guilt… there could be none after witnessing that gaze. He knew he had acted to survive.
He extended his hand, pulling the spear from the creature in a single motion.
It was heavy but perfectly balanced, about six feet long, its grip smooth yet cold, as if absorbing his warmth. Running his fingers along the metal sent a faint jolt through his skin—an unfamiliar, strange energy.
He looked at his reflection in the black spear—not his face, but shadows moving beneath the surface, as if the metal stored the spirits or memories of ancient battles.
A small, tense smile appeared on his lips, full of determination. He murmured, weary but resolute:
"If this is the new world… I'd better learn its rules fast."
He returned the armored octopus to its calm state; the probes retracted, coiling around its body, then gradually melted back into its form as if they had never existed. He felt a void in that moment, as though part of his soul had been drawn away.
Alex sank to the floor, leaning against the wall, eyes fixed on the broken doorway through which the creature had entered. The wind seeped through the gap, carrying the scent of blood, metal, and something else indefinable—the unmistakable smell of strangeness itself.
He raised the spear again, observing its dark blue-stained edge, and murmured to himself:
"This is no ordinary spear… it was made for killing."
He swallowed, closed his eyes briefly.
In the surrounding darkness, the image of the armored octopus resurfaced in his mind—a mysterious guardian, part shield, part weapon, hovering between life and death.
And as his consciousness began to calm, one truth became clear: he had crossed a threshold. He was no longer a lost human in a strange world; he had become a part of it.
A merciless world, where every being is either a hunter… or prey.