Ash drifted around Vlen as his temporary black dragon wings crumbled into nothingness.
Gravity claimed him for one final, brief moment before he crashed onto a narrow stone ledge.
Sharp rocks dug into his chest, tearing what remained of his shirt.
He lay there for a long time, listening to his own ragged breathing echoing in the dark.
He had made it out of the deepest pit of the Abyss.
Fielas, the Primordial Origin Dragon, was quiet for now, but the heat of their soul-binding merger still simmered under his skin.
His body felt different—heavy, packed with a dense, foreign energy that made his bones ache.
He looked up, staring into the dark labyrinth of the upper caverns.
Veneruel was a gamified hellscape, and he was at the very bottom of its food chain.
"Status," he rasped.
A glitched, translucent blue screen hovered before his eyes.
[Name: Vlen]
[Class: Primordial Mimic (Glitched)]
[Level: 1]
[Stats: Error. Syncing with Primordial Host...]
[Acquired Traits: None]
To survive, he had to hunt.
To get revenge on Marcus and the Pantheon of Ascended Guildmasters, he had to become a monster.
He pushed himself up on trembling limbs, his teeth grinding against each other.
He would start with whatever crawled in these shadows.
---
Slick, bubbling sounds echoed from a nearby alcove.
Vlen crept forward, his movements silent and predatory.
Three acidic slimes, glowing with a faint, toxic green light, hummed as they dissolved the moss on the cave floor.
They were weak, mindless creatures, but they were his first target.
He didn't have a weapon.
Lifting a heavy stone, Vlen smashed the nearest slime, bursting its membrane.
Acid sprayed, sizzling against his boots.
Without hesitating, he reached into the dissolving puddle and grabbed the glowing, jelly-like core.
Liquid fire burned his skin, but he ignored the searing pain.
He shoved the acidic core into his mouth and swallowed.
It tasted like concentrated venom and burning sulfur, scraping down his throat like liquid fire.
He fell to his knees, vomiting black bile, but he forced himself to keep the core down.
He stood up, his skin tingling with a strange, rubbery sensation.
His skin adapted instantly.
Dragon hunger was a terrifying cheat, turning agonizing consumption into instant evolutionary growth.
But it wasn't enough.
He needed more power, faster, before the Pantheon realized he had survived the fall.
---
Darkness in the upper caves was absolute, thick enough to swallow the meager light of his fading system screen.
Vlen dragged his battered body forward, feeling the slick, wet moss beneath his torn fingernails.
Every muscle screamed in protest, a lingering hangover from his soul-binding merger with Fielas.
His human body was struggling to contain the sheer mass of the ancient entity.
"Get up," he muttered to himself, his voice sounding thin and hollow in the cavernous space.
Trusting people had gotten him thrown off a cliff.
Hoping for mercy had broken every bone in his legs.
Only power mattered now, the absolute, crushing strength to ensure no one could ever put him in chains again.
Ahead, the narrow tunnel widened into a massive, domed chamber.
Air here was different.
It carried a sharp, metallic tang that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.
Static electricity danced across the damp stone walls, tiny blue sparks snapping in the pitch black.
Something lived here.
Something far more dangerous than the acidic slimes he had spent the last hour devouring.
Vlen stopped, pressing his body against a jagged outcrop of granite.
He closed his eyes, forcing his breathing to slow, letting his senses expand into the dark.
---
High-pitched vibrations rattled the stone ceiling above.
Drip. Drip.
Water fell onto his forehead, but he didn't blink.
Screeching echoes bounced off the narrow stone walls, multiplying until the cavern seemed to vibrate with static.
They were coming.
Dozens of tiny, red, glowing eyes materialized in the darkness.
Razor-Beak Bats.
These weren't harmless cave creatures; they were native to Veneruel's gamified corruption, infused with lightning-aspected mana.
Their beaks were serrated metal, designed to shear through leather armor and flesh like hot knives.
Wind rushed past his face as the first wave dived.
Leaning back, Vlen felt his newly enhanced reflexes kick in.
His arm shot out, fingers coating themselves in a thin layer of acidic slime residue he'd copied earlier.
One bat slammed directly into his palm.
Corrosive fluid hissed against its fur, melting its wings as Vlen crushed its skull with a sickening pop.
[Notification: Slime Acid applied successfully. Target neutralized.]
More bats swarmed, their wings beating a chaotic rhythm.
Sharp, metallic beaks sliced through his tattered tunic.
Pain flared across his chest, hot and demanding.
Anger erupted from his core, hot and ancient.
"Get off me," Vlen snarled, his voice rasping.
Grabbing two of the creatures mid-air, he smashed them together.
Electrified blood sprayed his face, stinging his eyes and leaving a metallic, ozone taste on his tongue.
Dragon instincts within him roared, demanding he stop defending and start dominating.
Serrated teeth tore into his shoulder.
Vlen gritted his teeth, refusing to let out a weak cry.
He grabbed the attacking bat by its leathery wing, ripping it from its socket with a wet tear.
Using the severed wing like a makeshift shield, he blocked another dive from three incoming beasts.
Electricity crackled through the air, numbing his fingers.
Sheer volume of the swarm was overwhelming his human senses.
For every bat he crushed, three more seemed to take its place.
They flew in tight, aggressive formations, coordinated by a central intelligence.
Fielas's laughter echoed in his mind, mockingly sweet.
"You fight like a mortal, Vlen," the dragon whispered.
"Shut up," Vlen hissed back, crushing another bat under his boot.
---
Heavy wings beat the air, louder and slower than the others.
Descending from the darkness was the alpha, easily the size of a grown man's torso.
Its beak glowed with a faint, blue electrical current.
Terrifying high-frequency shrieks erupted from its throat.
Vibrations slammed into Vlen's skull like a physical hammer.
Blood dripped from his ears.
Vision blurred, turning the rocky cavern into a spinning vortex of gray and black.
He fell to one knee, hands clutching his head.
Supersonic waves were liquefying his focus, leaving him completely defenseless.
Instinct, raw and monstrous, took the wheel.
Vlen stopped fighting the dragon's pull.
Lifting his head, he bared his teeth, ignoring the agonizing pressure in his eardrums.
Alpha lunged, its electrified beak aiming straight for his throat.
Quick as lightning, Vlen's hand shot up.
He didn't dodge.
He let the serrated beak impale his left forearm, the electrical current coursing through his veins and seizing his muscles.
Gasping through the agony, he used his right hand to clamp around the alpha's neck.
"My turn," he whispered.
Pulling the beast closer, he ignored the smaller bats tearing at his back.
He sank his teeth deep into the alpha's neck.
Thick, hot, electrified blood flooded his mouth.
It tasted like copper, battery acid, and absolute triumph.
Sickening thrills of pure dominance washed over him.
His human mind screamed in disgust, but his soul sang with predatory ecstasy.
He tore a chunk of raw flesh away, swallowing it whole.
Dragon core in his chest flared, greedily sucking in the monster's life force.
[System Alert: Primordial Mimicry activated.]
[Absorbing Essence: Razor-Beak Bat (Alpha).]
[Acquiring Skill: Supersonic Sonar.]
[Rebuilding vocal cord structure to accommodate physical demands...]
Fire surged in his throat.
Vlen dropped the dying alpha, clutching his neck as his throat mutated.
Cartilage snapped.
Tendons tore and re-knitted themselves in a frantic, agonizing dance.
He felt his vocal cords stretching, splitting, and hardening into something inhumanly complex.
Remaining bats circled, sensing their leader's demise, preparing for a final, desperate assault.
Vlen looked up, his eyes flashing a dangerous, reptilian gold.
Opening his mouth, he let out a sound.
It wasn't a human scream.
It was a high-frequency, devastating supersonic blast.
Soundwaves rippled through the air, visible as a distortion in the damp cavern.
Bats exploded mid-air.
Their bodies burst into wet, red clouds, their internal organs turned to mush by the sheer frequency.
Stone dust rained down from the ceiling as the echo died away.
Silence reclaimed the cavern.
---
Breathing heavily, Vlen stood among the carnage.
He had won.
He was stronger.
Power of the Primordial Mimic was undeniable, a cheat code that would let him butcher Marcus and anyone else who stood in his way.
But a cold dread began to pool in his stomach.
Satisfaction of the kill felt too good.
Raw meat he had swallowed didn't make him sick; it made him crave more.
He looked down at his hands to wipe away the blood.
His breath hitched.
Skin on his fingers had turned a dark, obsidian black.
His nails had elongated, curving into sharp, lethal talons that glinted in the dim light.
They weren't human hands anymore.
They were claws.
Panic, cold and sharp, cut through his power-drunk high.
He was losing himself.
Dragon was eating him from the inside out, chipping away at his humanity with every piece of essence he stole.
He needed to remember who he was.
He was a man.
Survival was his only anchor.
When he tries to speak his own name to keep his sanity, his jaw hinges open abnormally wide, and only a terrifying, deep-bass draconic growl rumbles from his throat.