Morning arrived without incident, which was suspicious all by itself.
Zyrha lay very still on her back, staring up at the crack-riddled ceiling of her cave, half-expecting it to collapse on her out of habit. A dim shaft of golden light filtered in through the mouth of the cave, illuminating her mismatched pile of stolen cloth and whatever passed for "bed" in her world.
Everything was quiet , too quiet.
For a moment, she didn't move. Her brain, still stuck somewhere between panic and this must be a cruel dream, replayed the events of the previous day with the sort of surreal detachment reserved for fevered hallucinations.
A system? Bread? Leveling up? A sword?
No way. It couldn't have been real. Surely she was dead. Or in a coma. Or worse dreaming while starving to death under a shrub.
And yet...
Her body didn't ache the way it usually did in the mornings. Her stomach wasn't twisting itself into a screaming knot. She didn't have dirt in her mouth or twigs stuck in her hair.
"I'm still alive," she whispered.
[Correct. Congratulations on surviving the night without dying or catastrophically embarrassing yourself.]
Zyrha let out a long breath and closed her eyes.
It was real , It was all real she actually smiled.
"Hey... DreadCore?"
[Yes, semi-sentient protein bundle?]
"I thought it was a dream."
[Many things you do seem dreamlike. Mostly the part where you threaten to bite reality.]
She laughed softly. Not bitter, not sarcastic just light. Warm. It was the kind of laugh she hadn't had in years. Maybe ever.
"…Thanks."
[You're welcome. Now get up, you smell like anxiety.]
She stretched gloriously, luxuriously. No cracked ribs, no pulled muscles. Just stiff joints and a slight pang of hunger. She could live with that.
Jeremy the bat hung from the ceiling as usual, glaring at her with his beady little eyes, offended by her existence. He gave a half-screech when she stood up and stretched too close to his roost.
"Calm down, Jeremy," Zyrha muttered, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "I'm not going to eat you."
[Actually… this brings us to today's lesson.]
She blinked. "What, eating bats?"
[Your skill. Echo Thread.]
"Oh. Right." She squinted. "What did the description say again? Something about tethering my will to a target?"
[Correct. Try focusing on Jeremy while activating the skill.]
She raised an eyebrow. "You want me to tether my will... to a bat?"
[Unless you'd prefer to practice on a carnivorous leopard again.]
"…Jeremy it is."
She took a step back, exhaled slowly, and focused on the little flying mammal. Jeremy blinked. He rotated his body with the kind of judgmental elegance only a cave bat could achieve.
"Okay... Echo Thread."
Nothing happened , she frowned.
Then on instinct she reached not with her body, but with something deeper. Her thoughts stretched forward, her intent sharpened like a thread pulled taut.
A soft hum echoed in her ears.
Reality rippled.
And from her chest, something moved. Not physically but like an extension of her will. A silvery thread of light, faint and shivering like spider silk, unspooled from her hand and latched onto Jeremy's tiny, fuzzy form.
The moment it connected she felt something col , annoyed ,and slightly hungry.
[Connection established.]
She gasped It wasn't telepathy, not quite. More like... emotional sonar. She could sense Jeremy's general mood an unfiltered broadcast of vague irritation and mild thirst.
"…He's mad at me," she whispered.
[Accurate. Probably has been for months.]
Jeremy screeched again, annoyed by nothing in particular.
"And he wants... water?" she blinked. "How do I know that?"
[The thread allows limited emotional perception and intent analysis. You can't read full thoughts, but you'll sense hostility, fear, hunger, loyalty, or deceit.]
"So... it's like empathy with wires?"
[A poetic interpretation. It will grow stronger as you level up.]
Zyrha slowly let the thread fade. It dissolved into glittering dust and vanished.
She felt... strange. Not tired, but stretched, like she'd flexed a mental muscle for the first time.
"Okay," she said, adjusting her shirt. "That's weird. And cool. And deeply invasive."
[All the best skills are.]
She sat cross-legged on the floor and cracked her knuckles.
"Alright, time for the next big question. Show me my stats."
[Displaying Status Window…]
A translucent screen blinked into existence in front of her.
ZYRHA :Race: Lesser Demon (Endangered Subclass)
Level: 2
EXP: 0 / 250
HP: 78 / 78
MP: 54 / 54
Strength: 5
Agility: 6
Endurance: 7
Magic: 6
Luck: ???
Charisma: 4
Available Attribute Points: 3
Skills:Echo Thread (Lv. 1) – Emotional tether to a target. Evolves with use. Passive Buff – Beginner's Outfit: Defense +3
Zyrha tilted her head.
"Okay, first of all why is my luck question marks?"
[Because it's unstable.]
"What does that mean?"
[It means you may fall off a cliff or find a diamond. We're still running calculations.]
"Cool. So basically, I'm a walking dice roll."
[Exactly.]
She poked at the glowing attribute points.
"So I can put these wherever I want?"
[Yes. Choose wisely. Or chaotically. I've accepted both.]
After a moment's thought, she allocated 1 point each to Strength, Magic, and Endurance.
"I need to hit harder, survive longer, and... maybe not explode if I cast a spell."
[Wise. For you, anyway.]
The stats shifted slightly.
Updated Stats:Strength: 6
Magic: 7
Endurance: 8
She nodded in satisfaction. It was still laughably low, but less laughable than before. Progress was progress.
"So," she said. "What now?"
[Now, your first quest.]
A trumpet sound played badly. Like someone choked a kazoo underwater.
A new window flashed open:
QUEST: FIRST BLOOD Objective: Slay one (1) Bird.Reward: 50 EXP, Basic Healing Salve, and the indescribable satisfaction of not dying immediately.Optional Bonus: Roast it.Penalty for Failure: None. Unless emotional shame counts.
Zyrha stared at it.
"...A bird?"
[You have to start somewhere.]
"An actual bird?"
[Yes. Preferably not one that fights back. Try something dumb and feathery.]
She blinked at Jeremy, who was technically a bird descendant.
[Not him.]
"Fine, fine." She sighed and stood up. "Let's go kill a glorified snack."
[That's the spirit.]
She stepped out into the light, sword strapped to her hip, hair wild in the wind. She had a thread skill, a status screen, and a grudge against all feathered life.
Zyrha the pathetic demon was about to hunt a pigeon.
And somehow… that felt like destiny.