The system.
The arches appeared alongside a mysterious, game-like interface that granted humans abilities to fight against the terrors. The system assigned powers based on a person's most dominant personality trait—altruists gained abilities tied to protection or justice, while the discreet excelled in espionage or assassination.
But these gifts came at a cost. The human body was too weak to contain such power, forcing a brutal transformation. Bones shattered and reformed, muscles tore and rebuilt, blood burned, and organs ruptured. This process, called "The Sundering", claimed many lives. Those who survived were known as "Adapters".
A year later, "The Procedure" was introduced, allowing people to undergo the Sundering without risking death. Soon, every human possessed enhanced bodies and unique abilities. However, children born after the arches did not require the Procedure. Their transformation was gradual, unfolding over seventeen years, with their abilities manifesting at eighteen—when their personalities had solidified.
Every adult had an ability. Except me.
***
ELARA's POV
"Nonsense," I said flatly.
Looking at Griffin, I couldn't believe what he was implying. He's a normal human? What rubbish.
"Even if what you are implying is true, it doesn't explain how you are able to move and fight as you do."
Griffin's smirk didn't waver as he lifted his jacket, exposing a lattice of metal and wiring fused to his torso. The exoskeleton hummed faintly, its joints flexing with his breath. He wasn't lying.
'H-How is this possible?'
'A human without a system…'
"Do other humans know of your… disability?"
"Not many." He said as he lowered his jacket.
"That must also be the reason why you couldn't understand me."
He nodded.
"Then this makes you even more peculiar, why go so far? Why fight the terrors? Why fight me?"
I leaned in, fangs bared. "And if you say money, I'll rip that tin shell off your spine."
Griffin's gaze slid away, fingers tapping his chin in mock deliberation.
'Annoying human.'
I nearly snapped the tree beside me in half before he finally spoke.
"You will know once we reach our destination."
"What! Why?" my pupils slit.
"Because I said so."
Hearing this my eyebrow couldn't help but twitch.
'This little smug, scheming, spine-less— .'
"Then at least tell me our destination." I hissed.
His grin widened, "Volcaris, your dear homeworld."
My blood turned to magma.
***
Elara's jaw clenched hard enough that I heard her fangs grind. A vein pulsed at her temple, her crimson eyes burning like coals ready to ignite. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing—watching her teeter on the edge of explosion was unbelievably satisfying.
I need to be careful though, push her any further, and she might actually kill me.
"Why the long face? Not interested in visiting home?"
"None. Of your. Business." Each word came out razor-edged, but the corner of her mouth—was that a twitch?
'Is she… smiling?'
'Ah, she's trying to get back at me. How cute.'
I waved a hand. "Relax, we're not leaving yet."
Her pupils narrowed, "Why not?"
Turning, I pointed into the forest's shadowed depths. "There's a Terror Womb nesting in there. I want to reduce it to paste."
For a heartbeat, silence. Then—
Elara's lips peeled back in a grin so vicious it could've flayed skin from bone. When she spoke, her voice dripped with the same hunger she conveyed during our battle:
"Finally. Something worthwhile."
*
With the help of the system and the other races, humanity managed to drive the terrors back. But… not all of them were exterminated.
"Terror Wombs."
Places where terrors hid and bred in the dark. Hard to find. Harder to destroy. Normally, they'd be wiped out the moment they were discovered—but some were repurposed as training grounds for adepts. Risky, but valuable.
Attacking a terror womb is exceedingly dangerous and a minimum of at least 5 highly trained adapters are required to destroy or subjugate one.
At least, that's how it's supposed to be. But I have a Drakonid with me, so it'll be ok.
"So, how did you find out about this womb anyways?" Elara asked.
"Luck, mostly." I answered.
After saying this Elara gave me an irritated look, clearly she wanted an explanation. So, I began to elaborate.
"It's not unnatural for a terror or two to skulk around towns like these, but I've been commissioned to take out more than a couple during my time here."
"I would have just chalked this up to coincidence if I hadn't noticed something."
"What?"
I stepped forward, unsheathing my sword. The steel whispered free. Without hesitation, I stabbed the blade into the shadow of a boulder.
*SCREEEEEE*
The ground bulged. A seven-foot figure of writhing black tore from the shadow, limbs flailing, screeching in agony. I twisted my grip, pivoted, and sliced it clean through. It hit the dirt in two twitching halves.
"I noticed that this stone's shadow changed ever so slightly whenever I passed by it."
"Shadowborns." she replied.
"How observant, I'm almost impress—."
The ground ruptured beneath her. Black hands burst up, dozens of them, clawing, grabbing. Before she could react or finish her sentence, they yanked her down into the earth.
The silence that followed was deafening.
Staring at the hole where Elara used to be, I had only one thought.
'Crap.'
My greatest advantage just got sucked down a hole and now I had to go get her.
I walked up to the stone and chipped off a chunk. Dropped it into the hole.
One second… two… ten…
*CLATTER*
'Not that deep.'
I jumped in, driving my sword into the wall to slow the fall. Sparks trailed behind me. My boots hit solid ground.
Darkness swallowed the passage ahead.
'Dark.'
That was my first thought looking at the passage in front of me.
'But that doesn't make any sense, these are shadowborn. They require light to survive.'
'...Unless.'
I kicked a pebble into the dark. It vanished without a sound.
Shadowborns, as their name suggests, are similar to shadows—they need light to exist. But unlike normal shadows, they feed on light. The more they absorb, the stronger they become.
Once a Shadowborn consumes enough light, it undergoes a transformation. At that point, it no longer depends on light to survive. It becomes self-sustaining—and far more dangerous.
'This is bad. If they're self-sustaining now then they're at least feral-tier.'
Looking at the ceiling, I noticed something.
'They've also fused with the passage and are all connected to each other.'
This womb isn't as young as I thought, if these shadowborns are feral-tier then there might be around fifty of them inside this womb.
'Well, it's not like I came unprepared.'
I took out some oil and spread it on my sword as well as the ground, swinging it toward the surface beside me. I ignited it creating a large yet steady flame.
'Fighting multiple feral-tiers is suicide. I have to get past them without any opposition.'
I plunged my sword into the ground. A hiss echoed from the darkness—and then, movement.
Dozens of blackened hands erupted from the stone like vipers. They struck with brutal speed, clawing the air. I twisted sideways, skin grazing the wall, and launched myself upward—landing on the sword's hilt with barely a breath to spare.
More arms reached for me, shrieking in silence. My muscles tensed. In one motion, I launched off the hilt and surged deeper into the corridor, boots striking the uneven floor in a spray of sparks.
'Any minute now.'
The moment I hit the ground, a shrill scream erupted behind me. Shadows lunged, shriveling mid-stride. A sudden green blaze—unnatural and hungry—raced along the passage walls. The shrieking turned into guttural howls as the fire clung to their limbs like sap, eating through them with sickly smoke.
'That should hold them for now.'
That fire I started wasn't just any normal fire, it was a balefire. A fire that started when poison and fire came into contact with each other, due to this it took longer to start than a regular fire. But it was twice as powerful and could spread on any surface as long there was oxygen and a fuel source.
'Good. The fire wouldn't last long in these depths—oxygen was thin—but near the surface? It would hold them. Maybe not kill them. But it would buy me time.'
Time to find Elara.