Matthew's trek down the tunnel was quiet. He barely dared to think too loudly, He'd stolen some duct tape from someone's bag and sealed it over his mouth.
He could feel a vague hunger creeping up on him. He hadn't eaten since the so-called "Human Empowerment Program" had taken him.
He almost scoffed out loud but couldn't open his mouth—thankfully. The road through the tunnel was long. The air was humid and salty, thick with a sour, desiccated smell of death.
And yet, in this death trap, a strange peace settled over him. Relief bloomed in his chest. No coworkers. No deadlines.
No one to hold him back. He would go where he wanted, move at his own pace and answer to no one.
I guess it sucks that I couldn't choose to participate, but it's not like I've ever had a choice on what to do with my life.
He once again tried to sigh in relief but couldn't move his mouth. Still, a smile curled beneath the tape—until his status popped up with a notification.
——
Free Armament for You to Pick!
Start your legendary journey right.
Roll the dice and stand a chance to get a Fair, Rare, or even Epic!
——
Matthew cursed silently, he expected an armament would increase his chances of survival greatly. However he had no idea if the process would attract any attention.
He flicked his fingers nervously, then retreated from the bend in the tunnel to a longer stretch where he could spot anything approaching. He settled down and breathed slowly through his nose.
He pressed "Accept."
No fanfare. No strange light. No mystical chimes.
His status simply updated:
——
Name: Matthew
Level: 1 (Spirit Coins: 0/8)
Health: 90/100
Stamina: 52/70
Mana: 10/10
Stat Cards:
Armaments: Old Cat
Traits:
Skills:
——
The actual fuck, an old cat? Matthew frowned almost furious, his luck seemed uncanny. He checked the description.
——
Name: Old Cat
Rank: Rare
Description: A title given to masters of the Culling. They were the longest-living members and the deadliest.
Constantly hidden, always watching, they stalked and measured their prey.
This armament passively enhances your senses and your ability to conceal yourself.
——
I take it all back. I love this Old Cat.
How do I summon it? " he murmured in his head.
He stretched out his hand, willing the mask to come. The air distorted around his palm, space spiraling inward.
A low hum filled the air. Golden light burst from the collapsing point. A more metallic hum filled the air as an item shaped itself in the golden light.
When the light faded, he held a black mask. Oval-shaped, it had strange eye holes like a warped yin symbol. With blue accents around the eyes, under the cheekbones and around the edges.
The design looked almost like an angry face, with sharp inner edges beneath the eyes.
He placed it over his face.
There was no strap, but it clung like it had been glued on. He took it off and on a few times to make sure it wasn't truly stuck, then stuffed his glasses into his bag.
His vision sharpened instantly—shapes clearer, light more precise. Unfortunately, so did his sense of smell.
The salty smell of the tunnel stung his nose a little and made him sneeze, he began to walk again, and he could perceive where the smell of rot was stronger.
He would have to take this off later, but for now he took in the smells. Trying to find distinct weaker smells, like his deodorant when he swung his arm, or the smell of his socks and the wet moss of the tunnel.
He also smelled a powerful draft of rot ahead, Matthew eyed the road unsure if it was a good idea to go down this way. He had gone far, but his life was worth just turning back and walking back the opposite direction.
Then he felt a slightly colder breeze, what he inferred might be water. Possibly something he could kill and eat. The Rolling bug's insides had been pulverized by the White ant so he didn't want to risk eating that.
However he was up for eating bugs, even the huge ones. It wouldn't be his first time, he had some with his mother when they travelled or went camping. It could be like eating shrimp if you cook them well.
He sighed and continued. It wasn't long till he reached the end of the tunnel.
——
Matthew's eyes stretched along the high expanse of this cavern, like a gaping wound in the stone—large enough to swallow a city
Loose stones and pebbles littered the path, and he noticed deep imprints on the ground and lower walls—jagged strikes, possibly from mandibles.
Massive cracks splintered the ground, some wide enough to fall into without a sound. High hills of rock torn from the ground like broken bones by some titanic blow.
He climbed the hills and surveyed the cavern for a path.
The air was foul with the iron tang of dried blood and the thick rot of something once alive, now long dead. Ash clung to the ruins in soft drifts, muffling each of his steps.
Some of the burn marks were chaotic like wildfire, others clean—perfect circles scorched into the stone.
He studied the circular burn patterns, their surroundings and tried to use the scars on the earth to determine what had happened.
"Some kind of trap? How did they trigger it?"
The cavern was eerily quiet, but every mark left on it whispered of war and carnage.
While he was worried if there were any other traps left he smelled something.
The air suddenly changed, becoming heavy on his skin. He immediately began moving, scrambling up steep ledges and slipping through jagged cracks in the ground large enough to fit his entire body.
He slid down a slope and used the momentum to jump across a crevice in the earth. Briefly turning back hoping to catch a glimpse of it.
There was nothing there.
Matthew knew however that a strange earthy smell that hadn't been here was now approaching him. He wondered why it hadn't just run at him.
He purposely followed a tight crevice, smearing himself in dirt and pulled out the perfume bottle he kept in his bag. Spraying it down a different path.
Then he sprinted away, aiming for the secondary tunnel he'd glimpsed from the hill.
A bang tore through the cavern. Like a battering ram slamming into stone.
Matthew glanced back. With his enhanced vision, he saw a puff of dust—right where he'd sprayed the perfume.
It's tracing my smell.
He kept running till he got to a large canyon between him and the next tunnel. Matthew could feel cold air wafting from it.
Down there he would find water.
He smelled the creature coming again, undeterred by his efforts to drown out his scent.
He would have to run across to pass the expansive gap between him and the tunnel.
He considered jumping, but perished the thought after looking into the gaping darkness of the hole.
He turned to flee, but felt something strange.
The ground sounded different here. He studied it, could it be weaker? It felt hollow and the edges…
Getting on the ground he could see it, a lightly drawn circle in the ground.
An unused trap.
The thing stalking him got closer, he made up his mind quickly. He edged around the trap and ducked behind a portion of cracked wall, frantically inspecting the ground for a trigger.
It had arrived. Matthew shot behind the wall as the smell of damp earth hit his nose. Pungent and strangely fresh.
He took out the mirror and used it to watch.
There was nothing at first, then the light moved. Just a little making him hold his breath.
He could hear a faint sound, almost nonexistent, of something scratching against stone.
He saw a small wisp of dust and realised it was the creature's tail hitting the wall by mistake. I won't even be able to sense it moving.
He grimaced, tracking the movement of light, when it entered the circle the ground cracked a little. It was heavier than him, and it knew this—as its steps became even lighter.
He could still see rising dust, but no footprints. It seemed to know he was close, pausing for a long time.
They both held their breath, trying to deceive the other. Matthew prayed in his head that it would just turn around.
Something shot out of empty space suddenly. Sharp, fast and aimed at his head through the wall.