The Rib-Crawler crouched near the monster's corpse for a moment, claws twitching—then dissolved back into swirling ink.
The ink snaked across the floor, slithered into the deck box at your chest, and solidified back into the card.
MONSTER: RIB-CRAWLER — returned to deck.
A second streak of ink shot from the floor.
The Rust-Bent Prybar blurred into liquid shadow and followed it, snapping back into card form as well.
Both cards clicked into place inside your deck box.
A clean, empty thunk.
Two cards safe.
0 blank cards left
---
The street twisted behind you as you left the gas station.
The sky pulsed a sickly purple-red, and the ground shook gently, like something massive was breathing under the pavement.
Your deck box rested against your chest, warm from the recent fight, both cards tucked safely back inside.
You needed supplies.
You needed blank cards.
And you needed somewhere safer than the open street.
Your eyes caught a building you hadn't noticed before —
a two-story apartment complex tilted slightly, like it was sinking on one side.
Its windows were shattered, curtains fluttering out like torn ghosts.
It looked abandoned.
Perfect for scavenging.
You pushed the broken door open and slipped inside.
---
Inside the Building
It was dark. Not pitch black, but dim enough that every shadow felt like it had teeth.
Dust floated in thick clouds.
Old mail was scattered everywhere, letters torn open as if someone was searching for something inside the envelopes.
Your boots crunched on broken tile.
The air smelled of mildew and old panic.
You whispered to yourself,
"Just grab supplies and leave…"
You made it three steps deeper—
THUD.
Something slammed into your back.
You staggered forward, hitting the wall hard enough to knock the breath from your lungs.
A voice snarled behind you:
"Drop the deck box!"
You spun around.
Three humans.
Filthy, desperate, eyes wide and hungry like animals.
All from your world — but changed by fear.
They weren't here to talk.
They wanted what you had.
---
The Attack
The first man rushed you with a metal pole, swinging for your ribs.
You dodged — barely — but the impact scraped your shoulder, sending pain shooting down your arm.
The second attacker, a woman with tangled hair and a torn jacket, held a broken bottle.
She lunged, aiming for your throat.
You jerked back, stumbling over debris.
The third stayed behind, glaring at you with wild eyes.
His voice cracked:
"Give us your cards. We saw you fight outside. We saw the glow. You've got something valuable!"
They weren't scavengers.
They were hunters.
Hunters of other survivors.
---
Forced to Fight
Your hand flew to your deck box.
You didn't want to kill humans.
Not after everything the Dreadshift had done.
But they weren't giving you a choice.
The man with the metal pole came again, swinging downward like he wanted to split your skull.
You ripped a card free.
MONSTER: RIB-CRAWLER
Ink exploded from the floor as the creature materialized in front of you, screeching so loudly it rattled the windows.
The attackers froze in terror.
The woman whispered,
"What the hell… what the hell IS that—!?"
The Rib-Crawler leapt at the pole attacker, knocking him back into a wall so hard the plaster cracked.
The other two sprinted backward in panic.
You stepped forward, anger boiling in your chest.
"You want to steal my deck?" you growled. "Fine. Try surviving it."
The Rib-Crawler crouched, ribs opening like a cage ready to snap shut on prey.
But the humans regrouped faster than you expected.
They weren't untrained scavengers — they had cards too.
The third attacker pulled something from his jacket.
A glowing scrap of black ink folded into a card shape.
"Summon!" he yelled.
The card flashed.
A creature formed beside him — dog-shaped but wrong, skin stretched too thin over its bones, jaw too wide and filled with broken teeth.
A Bone Gnawer.
Human vs. human battle.
Deck vs. deck.
The Dreadshift didn't care what side you picked.
Only who survived.
---
Choose your next move:
Your Rib-Crawler crouches, waiting.
The humans are trying to flank you.
Their monster snarls, dragging its claws along
ITEM: RUST-BENT PRYBAR
RARITY: COMMON
FUNCTION: breach or leverage or smash open heads
CONDITION: UNSTABLE
I grab the wrench and smash the guys head with it
While my monster deals with that ugly looking dog
Here is the continuous continuation of Chapter 3, flowing directly from where we left off, using your action with the RUST-BENT PRYBAR while your Rib-Crawler fights the summoned creature.
---
The card hissed as ink peeled away, forming cold iron in your hands, heavy and uneven.
The rust flaked as you gripped it tighter.
"Rib-Crawler," you shouted, "deal with that ugly dog!"
The Rib-Crawler let out a clicking snarl and lunged toward the Bone Gnawer, ribs widening like jagged jaws as it clamped onto the creature's foreleg.
Bones cracked.
The dog-thing wailed.
But you didn't watch for long—
because the man with the metal pole, the one who had tried to bash your skull in earlier, was staggering back to his feet.
You sprinted forward.
His eyes widened at the sight of you charging with the prybar.
"Wait—! Stop, stop, STOP—"
Too late.
THWACK
The prybar slammed into the side of his head with a metallic crack.
He dropped instantly, body folding like a puppet with its strings cut.
The rusty metal vibrated in your grasp, almost buzzing.
You didn't know if it was adrenaline or the magic in the item reacting to blood.
Behind you, the battle continued.
---
The Monster Clash
The Bone Gnawer snapped at your Rib-Crawler's ribs, gnawing like a starving wolf.
Your monster screeched and twisted, slamming its bony limbs into the creature's skull.
The floor shook from the struggle.
The woman with the shattered bottle screamed,
"He killed Doren! He killed him! Get the deck—GET IT!"
She rushed you again, this time aiming for your eyes.
But you were ready.
You raised the prybar.
She froze for a split second—
fear, shock, maybe regret.
You swung anyway.
CLANG
The bottle shattered against the wall as your strike knocked her back onto a toppled couch, gasping for breath.
The third attacker, the summoner, tried to pull out another card—
—but your Rib-Crawler finished the Bone Gnawer first.
It tore its throat open with a wet, ripping sound.
The enemy monster dissolved into black mist.
The surviving human saw the mist vanish and panicked.
"No—no, no, no—stay back! STAY BACK!"
He stumbled backward toward the stairs, dropping cards everywhere.
He wasn't brave anymore.
Just terrified.
---
Silence After Violence
The building went quiet except for your own breathing and the faint clicking of the Rib-Crawler as it crouched beside you, awaiting your next command.
Blood slowly dripped from the prybar.
You didn't feel proud.
You didn't feel powerful.
You felt…
alive, in a world that didn't want you to be.
You wiped the tool on your sleeve.
The Rib-Crawler lowered itself into card form again, dissolving into ink and sliding neatly back into your deck box.
At least something was loyal.
---
The Room Ahead
You stepped deeper into the building, passing the unconscious woman and the unconscious (or dead—you didn't check) man.
There were supplies everywhere—
boxes, bags, scattered gear.
These people had been hoarding things.
Food.
Tools.
And—
Your heart skipped.
A small metal case sat open on a counter.
Inside lay two blank cards.
Extremely rare.
Almost impossible to find now.
They glowed faintly, like they were breathing.
You reached out—
And a voice from the staircase above whispered:
"…Is someone down there?"
Not a threat this time.
Not the last guy.
A different human.
A survivor.
Another one from your world.
---