Desert wind whipped fine dust against Han Yuan's worn scavenge suit. It stung his eyes, gritted between his teeth. Another day in the ruins, another hunt for scraps. His stomach growled, a familiar ache that had become a constant companion since childhood. Rusting skeletons of skyscrapers clawed at a bruised, perpetually grey sky. Blue Star. Not so blue anymore, not since the portals to Sanctuary shattered reality. Every piece of metal, every circuit board, meant another meal, another day he wasn't a complete burden to the orphanage that grudgingly housed him. Shadows stretched long and distorted between the skeletal remains of buildings. Danger lurked in every one. He knew the drill. Keep moving. Stay alert. Never assume you're alone. Han Yuan gripped the rusty pipe tighter. Its cold, rough surface was a poor comfort, a pathetic weapon against the horrors that roamed these desolate zones. But it was all he had. He pushed deeper into what was once a financial district, now a maze of collapsed concrete and twisted rebar. The air hung heavy, a metallic tang mixed with the scent of decay. A faint, high-pitched scratching sound echoed from a darkened maw of a fallen building. His heart hammered. He froze, muscles tensing, every nerve screaming caution. The scratching grew louder, closer. It wasn't the wind. Something moved in the gloom. A shape, too big, too fast. Han Yuan pressed himself against a crumbling wall, trying to melt into the shadows, his breath catching in his throat. A multi-limbed 'Gloomclaw' beast burst from the darkness. Its hide, a mosaic of hardened chitin and dark fur, shimmered with an oily sheen. Six razor-sharp claws, each longer than his forearm, scraped against the concrete, throwing sparks. Its head, eyeless and grotesque, swiveled, sniffing the air. A low, guttural growl vibrated through the ruined street. Its sense of smell was legendary. He was dead. Panic coiled in his gut. He was too exposed. Too slow. He should have stayed closer to the perimeter. Idiot. "Hey!" Han Yuan yelled, desperation lacing his voice, hoping to startle it. He swung the rusty pipe, a feeble, clumsy arc. The Gloomclaw shrieked, a sound like tearing metal, and lunged. It moved with terrifying speed, a dark blur of limbs and claws. Han Yuan barely sidestepped, the beast's forelimb whipping past his face, a gust of foul-smelling air following its movement. The rusty pipe clattered uselessly against its armored hide as he tried to block its next attack. A pathetic clang, like a pebble hitting steel. It didn't even register. Another claw, thick and hooked, tore through the air, aiming for his chest. He twisted, a desperate, instinctual movement, but it wasn't enough. A searing pain erupted in his soul, a burning agony unlike anything he’d ever known. It felt like his very core was being ripped apart. His vision swam. A phantom voice, ancient and resonant, whispered directly into his mind. *"100x Return System activated."* His head snapped back. What? The voice was not a sound, but a direct thought, piercing his consciousness. It felt foreign, yet intimately connected to the raw, pulsating pain in his chest. An exhilarating rush of power flooded him. It felt like liquid fire, coursing through his veins, igniting every cell. The pain intensified, then receded, replaced by an overwhelming, almost suffocating strength. His senses sharpened. The stench of the Gloomclaw, the gritty texture of the concrete beneath his cheap boots, the faint tremor of distant tremors – all became vivid, magnified. The Gloomclaw, momentarily stunned by his unexpected resistance, recoiled slightly. It let out another shriek, then charged again, its multiple limbs churning the ground. Han Yuan instinctively raised his hand, not with the pipe, but with a strange, nascent power. He didn't know what he was doing. He just *felt* it. A crimson light, faint at first, pulsed from his palm. The Gloomclaw faltered, its eyeless head twitching, as if sensing a new, unfamiliar threat. That rush. It was still there, buzzing under his skin. It wasn't just power. It was *hunger*. A primal, insatiable hunger that wasn't his own, yet he felt it driving him. He stumbled back, overwhelmed. This wasn't possible. Systems were legendary, rare beyond belief. They didn't just *activate* for random, nobody orphans like him. The Gloomclaw launched itself forward, a living weapon of muscle and bone. It was too fast for his bewildered mind to process, too powerful for his rusty pipe. But the system. That voice. That power. It coursed through him, urging him, demanding. He felt a strange connection, a pull towards the monstrous creature. As its claws slashed towards him again, Han Yuan didn't dodge. Instead, his vision pulsed crimson, and the Gloomclaw's thrashing body suddenly shrivels, absorbed into his skin as if by an invisible hunger, leaving behind only a peculiar, glowing shard.

Chapter 1: The Crimson Portal's Glimmer