Breathing hard, Kael slumped against the wall, ribs aching and shirt soaked in blood. The hallway reeked of burnt fur and ash. The wolf was gone—reduced to cinders by silver flame—but the pain it left behind still throbbed under his skin.
His gaze drifted to the thing that clinked free from the ashes.
Another Hexagon Cube.
It pulsed faintly with dark grey light, veins of silver flickering across its surface like scars.
Kael reached out and snatched it off the ground, fingers curling around the smooth, cold edges.
"Open, you piece of shit," he muttered through gritted teeth, staring it down like it still had fangs. "You owe me a rib and half a shirt."
The Cube didn't respond.
Of course not.
But a second later, it pulsed in his hand—once, twice—then split open with a soft hiss, unfolding like a mechanical flower.
From the center, something unfurled and dropped into his lap with a heavy thud.
Kael blinked.
"A… coat?"
He picked it up slowly.
It was a long-sleeved jacket, heavy and rough to the touch, stitched from thick hide. The fur lining the collar and sleeves was unmistakable—dark, mottled, and smokey-grey. Wolf fur. Not just a wolf. That wolf.
The damn thing had been turned into outerwear.
Kael turned it over in his hands. It was crude but solid. Reinforced seams. Slightly too long in the sleeves, but warm. He could feel something humming in the fabric—a low, predatory presence, as if the essence of the beast still lingered inside.
[Item Acquired: Wolfhide Reaver Jacket – Tier 1]
— Forged from the essence of a corrupted beast. Offers light protection and enhanced sensory awareness.
— Passive Effect: Predator's Sense – Slightly increases reaction speed when facing hostile creatures.
Kael's eyes narrowed as the status appeared in glowing letters before fading into nothing.
"Huh," he muttered, standing up and slipping it on.
The coat settled around his shoulders like it belonged there. Heavy. Grounding. The fur brushed against his neck like a warning.
He pulled the collar up, adjusting it over the torn remains of his shirt.
"Well… at least it fits."
Standing up Kael felt his wound on his chest slow down in bleeding.
"It hurts, but I'll live," Kael muttered, pulling himself upright.
He walked back toward the stairway, checking the floor as he went for any signs of movement—anything still breathing or ready to kill.
Nothing.
With the coast clear, he continued down the rest of the floors.
Along the way, he ran into a few scattered zombies. After finishing them off, he waited—expecting the familiar clink of a Cube hitting the ground.
But nothing came.
Kael frowned. "Why aren't they dropping anything?"
"Sometimes that just happens," Seraphiel replied. "The universe works in mystical ways. Even I don't always understand why some souls leave fragments behind and others fade."
Kael sighed. "Guess I just have to get lucky, then."
He checked the dorm rooms one by one, giving quiet warnings through the doors, and made sure any survivors stayed put. Just to be safe, he dragged broken doors and furniture across the stairwell, blocking the path behind him.
"Hey, Seraphiel," he asked. "What's my status right now?"
"You're at Level 6. System sync is at eight percent. Once it hits ten, I should be able to mask the nature of our flames. Until then… be careful."
"Got it."
As Kael approached the dorm lobby, a new noise cut through the air—desperate shouting, furniture scraping, the telltale growl of something not human.
He broke into a jog.
The glass doors had been completely blown out. Shards littered the floor like silver teeth, and beyond the wreckage, a handful of students were cornered—backs to a busted vending machine, trying to hold off a creature that looked straight out of a nightmare.
It wasn't a zombie.
It stood upright like a man, but its skin was a thick, mottled hide, fur growing in uneven patches across its arms and chest. Its legs bent backward like a beast's. Its face was covered by a crude bone mask, fangs protruding through it as it snarled.
A Beastkin.
Seraphiel's voice taut in his mind. "That's a Beastkin—raiders from the Warring Plains."
The thing let out a guttural roar and lunged, grabbing one of the students and slamming him to the ground like a sack of meat. Blood sprayed across the tile.
Kael ducked down, heart pounding.
"They were born for war. Tribal, brutal, and smart enough to know how to flank. The Warring Plains merged with Earth during the Fracture—expect more of them."
The creature moved with deliberate purpose—dodging a thrown chair, snatching another student's makeshift weapon and snapping it in two like twigs.
"Its mask means it's a scout or hunter caste," Seraphiel added. "Bone armor, pack tactics. Alone, it's dangerous. In numbers? It's extinction."
Kael's gaze snapped to a half-bent metal chair near the desk. His fingers twitched.
"Then I better take this one out before its friends show up."
He grabbed the chair, and crept forward, flame suppressed, breaths shallow.
One step.
Another.
Then—
CRACK!
The chair slammed into the Beastkin's skull from behind. The creature roared, stumbling, blood streaking down its brow. Before it could recover, Kael dropped the chair and lunged—arms locking around its throat.
It thrashed, claws raking at his arms, drawing blood—but Kael held on. Gritting his teeth, muscles burning, he dragged the thing backward and wrapped his legs around its waist.
It bucked. Screamed.
Kael tightened his grip.
"You like picking on weak people?" he hissed in its ear. "Try choking on someone who hits back."
With a final jerk, the Beastkin spasmed… and went limp.
Kael let it fall.
The body hit the ground hard. Still. Broken. Blood slowly spreading out beneath it.
Then—
A hum. A soft flicker of light.
A Hexagon Cube formed beside the corpse, rising from the ground like mist condensing into shape. Its facets glowed faintly, lined with amber-gold veins.
Kael picked it up, breathing hard.
[Item Acquired: Hexagon Cube – Tier 2 (Beastkin – Warring Plains Origin)]
Without ceremony, he focused.
The Cube pulsed.
It cracked open like drying bark, shedding smoky fragments into the air. From the center rose a single object: a spear, long and wicked, crafted from darkwood and bound with sinew and bone. The spearhead was jagged, forged from some black-metal fang.
It thudded into his palm with weight and warmth.
[Item Acquired: Plainswalker's Fang – Tier 2]
— Spear forged from Beastkin instinct and tribal warcraft.
— Passive Effect: Wild Precision – Small increase to attack accuracy when hunting non-human enemies.
Kael stared at it, breath ragged. The dead Beastkin lay only a few feet away, unmoving.
Its body hadn't vanished.
It never would.
The Cube hadn't come from the corpse—it came from the soul.
He rose to his feet slowly, spear in hand, jacket heavy on his back. The remaining students stared at him—silent, eyes wide—not with relief, but fear.
"Hey," Kael's voice raspy echoed. "What the hell was that thing?"
One of the students—a guy with cracked glasses and a bloodied sleeve—swallowed hard.
"I don't know, man," he said. "It just… it came in through the front doors. Wasn't like the others."
Kael glanced at the bodies sprawled across the floor. "You all been on the first floor this whole time?"
The girl beside him—short, shaking, still clutching a kitchen knife with white knuckles—nodded. "We locked ourselves in the RA's office. Heard screaming. Thought it was more zombies. Then… that thing showed up. Dragged Jason out by the neck."
Kael adjusted his grip on the spear. "You're safe for now. Stay in here. Barricade the doors. If anything else shows up—you run, don't fight."
"Yeah, that was already the plan," the guy said with a dry breath. Then he pointed to the space where the Cube had vanished. "But—how'd you open that? We found a couple earlier but couldn't figure it out."
Kael shrugged. "You just hold it. Think about opening it. Want it, basically. That's what worked for me."
They exchanged a look—somewhere between confused and amazed.
Kael glanced toward the front of the lobby. "Any of you know what's going on outside?"
The kid with glasses nodded slowly, then pointed toward the front entrance. "If you're going out… just look up."
Kael blinked. "What?"
"Just… look," the girl said. "You'll understand."
He frowned, turned toward the ruined glass doors—
And stepped outside.
And froze.
The air hit him like ice—but it wasn't cold. It was wrong. Still. Dense. Like the world itself had stopped breathing.
Above him, the sky was bleeding.
A sun—massive, distant, and deep crimson—hung low on the horizon like an open wound. It cast the streets in a dim, rust-colored glow. Clouds churned in unnatural spirals, laced with black and gold veins that pulsed like arteries. In the distance, entire buildings floated above fractured terrain—cracked earth suspended in midair, roots dangling like snapped nerves.
A tree stood in the middle of the road, its bark lined with glowing runes. It pulsed faintly, like it was alive—breathing. Behind it, Kael spotted a stop sign half-merged into the wall of a convenience store, warped into the shape of a jagged spearhead.
"So…" Kael muttered, eyes scanning the chaos. "This is outside now?"
"No," Seraphiel answered softly. "This is everywhere now."
He stared at the red sun bleeding into the clouds, jaw tight.
"The Fracture didn't just shatter the sky. It tore through reality. Earth isn't Earth anymore. This is what happens when the divine loses control. When the old laws return. When monsters bring their worlds with them."
Kael didn't speak.
Didn't move.
He just gripped the spear a little tighter.
And stepped forward—into the broken world.