The warmth flooding Ruk's veins was a drug more potent than any he had known in his previous life. It was the warmth of stolen life, of a victory, however small. The gnawing emptiness in his stomach had subsided, replaced by a cold, predatory focus. He looked at his hands, still stained with the Grawler's blood, and felt a tremor of excitement, not revulsion.
His vision sharpened. The flickering torchlight no longer cast dancing, confusing shadows; instead, the darkness itself seemed to recede, the corners of the cavern resolving into crisp detail. The Night Vision trait was real, a tangible upgrade. The System was real.
He closed his eyes, focusing inward. The blue interface bloomed in his mind, clear and intuitive. He willed his attention to the Desire stat, and a new panel of text expanded beside it.
[Desire: The Engine of Evolution. Desire is the measure of your will to dominate, to conquer, to possess. It is the fuel for your ambition and the magnet for the ambition of others. Increase Desire by claiming territory, defeating rivals, and forging bonds of dominance. High Desire unlocks unique social, combat, and… reproductive skills.]
Reproductive skills. The System was blunt, almost crude. Ruk's mind flashed to the hulking orcs around the fire. He watched the Alpha, a true monster of an orc with tusks like daggers and a chest as wide as a boulder. His name, Ruk knew instinctively, was Grummok. Grummok sat on a crude throne of bones and pelts, tearing into a massive leg of roasted meat. Around him, several female orcs lounged, their powerful bodies adorned with crude jewelry. They looked at Grummok with a mixture of fear and adoration. When he grunted and tossed a piece of meat to one of them, she caught it with a pleased snarl, her eyes flashing with triumph as the other females watched with jealousy.
It was a court, in its own savage way. Power, sex, and food, all intertwined. Grummok's Desire must be immense, his dominance absolute. He didn't just rule; he possessed. The thought sent a fresh jolt through Ruk, a primal longing that was both Aiden's ambition and the orc body's instinct. He wanted that. He wanted to be the one on the throne, the one they feared and desired.
His focus was broken by a shadow falling over him. He looked up to see another whelp, this one slightly larger, with a brutish, sloping forehead and a permanent sneer. This was Grol. Grol's eyes were fixed on the mangled remains of the Grawler at Ruk's feet.
"My meat, runt," Grol snarled, his voice a wet rasp. He shoved Ruk hard, sending him stumbling backward. Grol was bigger, born a few days earlier, and in this world, a few days could mean the difference between predator and prey.
Aiden would have apologized and backed away. He would have given up the meager scraps to avoid a confrontation. But Aiden was a ghost, a fading memory.
Ruk's eyes narrowed. And the System, ever-present, responded.
[New Sub-Quest Issued: The First Rule][Objective: Establish dominance. Defeat the rival whelp and claim your kill.][Reward: +1 Strength, Minor increase to Desire]
There was no choice, not really. Not if he wanted to be more than leftover meat. Grol lunged, his movements clumsy and predictable. Ruk, fueled by his superior Agility and a human mind used to calculating angles and opportunities, sidestepped with a grace that was alien to his new body. Grol stumbled past him, roaring in frustration.
Ruk didn't run. He bent down, his fingers closing around a sharp-edged rock from the pile of bones. It was heavy, solid. A weapon.
Grol turned, his face contorted with rage. "You will be food!" he bellowed, charging again.
This time, Ruk stood his ground. Just as Grol was about to crash into him, he dropped low, swinging the rock hard against the charging whelp's knee. There was a sickening crunch, and Grol screamed, a sound of pure agony as his leg buckled. He collapsed in a heap, clutching his shattered knee.
Ruk was on him in an instant, the rage he'd felt earlier returning as a cold, precise fury. He didn't hit Grol's head. He hit his hand, the one reaching for him, crushing the fingers against the stone floor. Grol shrieked again, a sound of pain and, finally, of fear.
Ruk stood over him, his small chest heaving, the rock held high. He didn't need to kill him. He just needed to break him. The other whelps, who had been watching from the shadows, scurried back, their eyes wide with terror. They understood. They had just seen a new rule being written.
He lowered the rock, his gaze locking with Grol's. "My meat," Ruk growled, the words feeling more natural, more right, than his own name had just hours before.
Grol whimpered, dragging himself away, leaving a smear of blood on the cavern floor. Ruk had won.
[Sub-Quest Complete: The First Rule][Reward: +1 Strength, Minor increase to Desire]
[Strength: 3]
[Desire: 6]
The increase was small, but he could feel it. A subtle hardening of his muscles, a deeper well of ambition burning in his gut. He looked over at the Alpha's throne. The massive female orc, the one who had kicked him, was watching. Her name was Grasha. Her expression was no longer contemptuous. It was… calculating. A flicker of interest in her dark, intelligent eyes.
She saw him. For the first time, she truly saw him not as garbage, but as something new. Something dangerous.
Ruk turned back to his prize, the mangled Grawler. He picked it up and, with the eyes of the cavern on him, began to eat. He was still small, still weak. But he was no longer at the bottom. He had taken his first step on the path of devouring, and his hunger was just beginning to awaken.