His body ached in ways he hadn't known were possible. The wound on his arm throbbed with every heartbeat, his muscles felt like they'd been beaten with hammers, and sleeping curled up in a skull's eye socket had done his back no favors. Anakin was alive, which was more than could be said for whatever had been howling below during the night.
The sun was rising somewhere beyond the crimson coral labyrinth, painting the sky in shades of gray and pale orange. From his perch in the massive skull structure, Anakin could see the dark water pulling back, draining through the coral passages and leaving behind pools of stagnant brine and the occasional flopping nightmare creature that hadn't made it back to the deep.
He should rest. His body was screaming for it, and any sane person would take the day to recover, to let wounds heal and strength return.
But Anakin's eyes were fixed on his runes.
Fate Fragments: 15/700
Fifteen. He'd killed five Stone Hounds yesterday and gained fifteen fragments. Which meant he needed to kill roughly two hundred thirty more creatures just to hit seven hundred. Though he had a guess that killing awakened creatures would give him more, the gain was surprisingly generous.But he knew—somehow, instinctively— that it would just unlock something much more terrifying.
He wanted to hunt.
Anakin climbed down from the skull, using the gauntlets to find purchase on the weathered bone. His wrapped feet touched the damp sand, and he started moving through the coral passages, looking for prey.
It didn't take long to find it.
The Carapace Scavenger was alone, picking through the body of another. It was roughly the size of a large car, all pale segmented shell and too many legs, with pincers that looked like they could punch through stone. The creature's antennae twitched as it ate, completely unaware of him.
Anakin moved quietly, circling around through a parallel passage until he was above it. Then he jumped.
The scavenger's shell was harder than he expected. His fist crashed into its back with enough force to crack stone, but the chitin only dented. The creature shrieked and twisted faster than something that size should move, one pincer snapping toward his leg.
He pulled back just in time, the pincer closing on empty air with a sound like slamming metal. The scavenger rushed him, all clicking legs and snapping claws, Anakin met it head-on. He grabbed one of its legs with his left hand and pulled while bringing his right fist down on the joint. The limb tore free in a spray of pale ichor, and the creature's shriek intensified.
It attacked with both pincers this time, Anakin wasn't fast enough. One caught his shoulder, punching through the torn fabric and scraping against his skin. Pain exploded up his neck, but he used the momentum to get inside its guard. Both gauntleted fists came down on the creature's head in a brutal downward strike.
The shell cracked.
He hit it again. And again. The third strike went through, and the scavenger collapsed.
[You have slain an Awakened beast, Carapace Scavenger.]
[Your fate is mending.]
[You have received a Fragment of Fate.]
Anakin stood there breathing hard, his shoulder bleeding from a fresh wound.
He looked at the dissolving corpse and felt something shift in his chest. Not satisfaction exactly, but something sharper. Hunger. The need to do it again, to hear that notification, to watch the counter climb.
"One down," he said to the empty passage. He rumaged what he could from its corpse, its flesh, the leather like armour, he even picked up the soul shard, not that it was of much use to him right now. Anakin had discovered a particular thing, he could not absorb soul shards, he had some theories as to why but all in all, they were just extra weight for now.
He found the second scavenger an hour later.
This one was faster, already alerted by the sounds of fighting. It came at him from a side passage, its giant figure moved in an instant, Anakin barely got his guard up in time. The impact drove him back three steps, his feet sliding in the sand. The creature pressed forward, snapping and clicking, he had to give ground.
But he was learning. The scavengers were strong and their shells were tough, but they weren't clever. They attacked straight on, relied on their natural armor, and expected their prey to break.
Anakin waited for the next lunge, then sidestepped and brought his elbow down on the back of its shell. Not hard enough to crack it, but enough to throw the creature off balance. It stumbled, and he grabbed both pincers.
The scavenger tried to pull free, and he almost succeeded, but Anakin planted held on. His muscles screamed, his wounds burned, but he held on and pulled in opposite directions.
Something gave with a wet tearing sound, and both pincers ripped free. The creature's shriek was almost pitiful as it tried to back away, defenseless now. Anakin didn't give it the chance. He stepped forward and brought his fist down on its head with all the strength he had left.
The shell cracked on the second hit. Caved in on the third.
[You have slain a dormant beast, Carapace Scavenger.]
[Your fate is mending.]
[You have received a Fragment of Fate.]
Anakin wiped the ichor from his gauntlets and kept moving. The sun climbed higher, and the heat started to build in the passages between the coral. His body was reaching its limit—blood loss, exhaustion, dehydration all taking their toll. But the number kept climbing, and with each kill, the addictive pull grew stronger.
Twenty-four. Twenty-seven. Thirty.
By mid-afternoon, he'd killed ten scavengers, and his body was about to give out. Every movement hurt, his vision swam at the edges, and the seaweed bandages he'd fashioned from the tidal pools were already soaked through with blood.
That's when he saw it.
The Awakened Carapace Scavenger was nearly twice the size of the others, its shell so dark it was almost black. It sat in the center of a clearing surrounded by coral walls, and around it were the broken shells of three smaller scavengers. Whether it had killed them or was just scavenging the corpses, Anakin couldn't tell and didn't care.
An Awakened beast. Worth more fragments. Possibly a Memory.
He should retreat. Should find somewhere to recover, to heal, to come back when he was stronger. The smart move was obvious.
Anakin charged.
The creature saw him coming and rose to meet him, pincers spread wide. It was fast—faster than the dormant ones—and when it struck, the pincer moved like a spear thrust. Anakin twisted, and the blow missed his chest but caught his side, punching through cloth and skin and scraping against his ribs.
He gasped, stumbled, and the second pincer came at his head.
His gauntlet came up on pure instinct, catching the pincer between stone ridges. The force of the impact jarred his arm, but the pincer didn't break through. The creature pulled back, and Anakin went with it, using the momentum to get closer. His free hand came up in an uppercut that caught the scavenger's jaw and rocked it backward.
The shell didn't crack, but the creature stumbled.
By now Anakin had concluded a few things.
he wasn't just an average joe in his previous life, the last few years of his life were blurry, or completely forgotten and he summarised that those years had completely changed him. He was too calm, if a person was sent into a literal hell after living a mundane life, he would most definitely have a panic attack, but Anakin was just too composed His strength was unnatural, sure the memory was helping but a dormant memory was just that, a dormant one, it cant hope to crack the tough shell of an awakened beast. Let alone a monster.
Those things didn't matter for now though, he could just bask in his greatness later.
Anakin pressed the advantage. He grabbed one of its legs and pulled, his muscles burning, his wounds screaming. The leg held for a moment, then tore free with a sound like breaking wood. The scavenger shrieked and tried to retreat, but it was too slow now, unbalanced.
He went after it like a man possessed. Both fists came down on its shell in alternating strikes, each one cracking the chitin a little more. The creature fought back desperately, swinging its pincers,thrashing its legs, but Anakin was beyond pain now, beyond exhaustion, focused entirely on the single goal of breaking this thing open.
The shell cracked. Then caved. Then shattered.
He drove his fist through the opening and grabbed something vital inside. Pulled. Crushed. The scavenger went limp beneath him.
[You have slain an awakened beast, Carapace Scavenger.]
[Your fate is mending.]
[You have received a Fragment of Fate.]
[You have received a Memory: Ring of Burden.]
Anakin collapsed next to the corpse, his chest heaving, his body screaming. Blood pooled beneath him—his blood, the creature's ichor, all mixing in the sand. The notification rang in his head, and through the pain and exhaustion, he felt it.
Joy. Pure, uncomplicated joy.
He'd won. Against an Awakened beast, half-dead and nearly broken, he'd won.
The Ring appeared in his hand, a simple iron band that felt warm against his skin. He slipped it on his finger without bothering to check the description, and immediately felt the change. The crushing weight of exhaustion lessened, not much, but enough. His body felt lighter, his muscles less drained.
Memory Rank: Awakened
Memory Type: Charm
Memory Description: [To carry the weight of the world, one must first learn to bear the burden of the self.]
Memory Enchantment: [Burden Bearer]
From what he could summarise, It enhanced his physical capabilities. Made him stronger, faster, less burdened by his own weight and exhaustion. Not a dramatic transformation, but in a place like this, even a small edge meant the difference between life and death.
Anakin lay there in the sand and blood for a long time, staring up at the gray sky, feeling the addictive pull of that counter in his soul. He should stop. Rest. be terrified of what he was becoming.
Instead, he laughed. A sound that was half pain and half exhilaration.
"This is insane," he said to no one. "I'm insane."
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Ring of Burden changed everything.
Anakin woke on the third day feeling almost refreshed. His wounds still hurt, but the bone-deep exhaustion was manageable now. He could move without his vision swimming..
So he hunted.
The scavengers fell easier now. With the enhanced strength from the ring, plus his unnatural strength, his gauntlets could crack their shells on the first or second hit instead of the fourth or fifth. He moved faster through the coral passages, climbed higher to scout for prey, and pushed himself harder than should've been possible.
Forty-five fragments. Fifty-one. Sixty-three.
Each kill made the next one easier. Each notification fed the addiction that had taken root in his chest. It was probably going to get him killed eventually. But until then, it felt amazing.
By late afternoon on the third day, he'd pushed his count to eighty-eight fragments and was tracking another scavenger when he saw it rising above the coral in the distance.
The headless statue.
Anakin stopped mid-step and just stared. Massive. Unmistakable. The stone figure stood at least fifty feet tall, its arms crossed over its chest, its neck ending in a jagged stump where the head had been lost to time. It dominated the landscape, a monument to something long forgotten.
A landmark. Finally, a fucking landmark!
He abandoned the hunt and started running toward it, his exhausted legs finding new energy. The coral passages seemed to open up as he got closer, and when he finally reached the statue's base, he looked up at the towering stone and felt relief so intense it made him dizzy.
The climb was easy, pulling himself up hand over hand, he found purchase in the cracks and crevices, and finally stood on the broad stone shoulders where a head should've been.
The view was breathtaking.
The crimson coral labyrinth stretched for miles in every direction, broken by pale bone structures and dark tidal pools. To the east and west and south, endless maze. But north—north the formations seemed to thin slightly, suggesting a path. Or at least less of a death trap.
Somewhere in that direction, beyond days or weeks of travel, the Dark City waited. And with it, the real story of Shadow Slave.
Anakin looked down at his hands. The gauntlets gleamed in the fading light, stained with days of fighting. The Ring of Burden beneath, warm and reassuring. His body was wrapped in torn cloth and dried seaweed, and he probably looked like something that crawled out of a grave.
He grinned, sharp and wild.
The sun began its descent toward the western horizon, Anakin decided to treat himself, taking out some meat from the makeshift bag of seaweed, he grimaced a little but then dug in. Tomorrow, he'd start north.
The addiction was real, and he had no intention of stopping