It was supposed to be a dream, a nightmare in which the system came, and the world was overrun with demons.

Zack stared at a black screen with red lettering, his favored edgy design fit for hell. Only the massive stats he enjoyed in hell were gone, and he was stuck with low-level nonsense.

In the most comfortable armchair he didn't find off the side of the road and had reupholstered, he sipped a cup of coffee and tried to get his shit together.

Through the haze of blood and euphoria from the freedom of the kill. He gave the basic bitch critical screen a good look.

Zack Sin lvl1

Cultivation: Mortal

Body Tempering 0/9

Soul lvl1

Mass: 1

Density: 1

Pressure: 1

Soul Space: Locked

Open Bonus Chest?

Y/N

That most likely sounded like nonsense.

A growl edged out the HVAC in decibels, but Zack ignored it and turned on some music. Heavy drum beats got his heart pumping with some normalcy. That was good. He needed some normalcy. It paired well with the pants-shitting terror the system gave him. Why did his dream settings carry over but not the power?

Cultivation was only part of the system, and he was unique in that he had a cultivation and soul-leveling option. Only the best for himself, after all.

He sank into the leather chair and ignored the red haze lighting the darkness. It was 4 AM time to get up for work. Zack had to wonder how many people in his life were screwed, and he had a bonus chest and foreknowledge.

Soon, the beasts of chaos would be unchained, and all hell would break loose. People would fall to monkeys in days, if not sooner.

He stared at his stat screen.

Cultivation could wait. It was secondary to the soul. The soul was Zack's ultimate Swiss army knife of utility and destruction.

Mass was gained and converted into density, which empowered pressure.

Zack pointed at the remote and used all the force one pressure gave him. A small black cable stretched that only he could see, and the remote wobbled slightly. That was to be expected, even if the system rounded down and refused to present decimals. Every point in density was a power to pressure. It worked like 1.25 to the 1st power with only one density. More density equaled more pressure, and it eventually became exponentially more powerful. Only time was a big limit.

This wasn't a speed run, not really. Survival was determined by how long Zack could hang on. Give him a few years, and even the massive sin titans would be nothing. That was if he survived long enough.

He hit Y on the bonus chest, and his dream girl fell in his hand, wrapped in her black leather holster. "Oh, baby, did you miss Daddy?" Zack asked.

He named her Artemis because she had a nice silver finish and sleek curved design, which she rarely missed.

He strapped his weapon to his side and tightened the belt just enough to cut off circulation. The ground shook as he heard engines roar, and an explosion lit up the night sky more than the red light.

A plane just crashed, and that was predictable. The Hell drakes must already be in the air, so there is no helping it.

"Help!" A scream at the door to his apartment made him sigh.

He put on a brave face and walked toward his door, gun out and safety off, and pointed forward.

The TV turned on. I hadn't touched the remote. "This is an emergency broadcast. People should stay in their homes and not go outside, and for no reason should you open your doors for anyone."

Was it the demons? They were probably the types to confuse us when we needed each other the most.

Zack opened the door and saw a flash of purple skin before someone threw themselves inside. He saw a pointed, forked tail and strange tattoos. Did he let a succubus into my home? That was a bad idea. The dreamer pointed his gun at her and closed the door. 

"Wait, don't shoot. I'm not a demon. The light did this to me." Zack pulled the trigger.

She dove to the side, but his bullet was faster. The woman shrieked as Zack locked the door. She clutched her shoulder as blood oozed from the wound, popping and hissing as the holy energy from the bullet did its work.

Artemis lvl1

I needed many demonic hearts to get her going. My pressure reserves dipped as I felt her try and form a new bullet with what I had. At that moment, I was glad she came preloaded.

"Why did you shoot me?"

"You're possessed," I said.

"Zack, by the way, it's nice to meet you, really. If you weren't a succubus and the world wasn't ending, I would consider this a nice visit so far." 

"You shot me."

"This isn't the best side of town, but I guess it's hard to notice with the apocalypse happening." Her blood flowed on my once clean floor, and the hellhounds would be here soon the recycle her demonic flesh into dog shit. She reached for the bullet and shrieked when her hand burned from the bullet lodged in her shoulder. "Contract with me, and I'll take the bullet out."

She stared up at me. "How did you know about contracts?"

"You could say I'm something like a prophet. Think of me like Joseph, king of dreams." The growls grew louder. Zack needed 20 hours to gain enough spiritual mass to turn it into density. Demons would hasten my progress; they could also gather fallen enemies' souls. "Hurry and choose hellslut. The hounds smell your blood. If they track you down, they'll eat you alive." Zack said.

"Alright, take the bullet out, and I'll contract with you. My name is Werzelith Slutwalker."

It pinged true from the name floating above her head.

Werzelith Slutwalker lvl15

She held out her hand, and I took it. A flash of golden light appeared, and their bargain was struck.

 Zack reached with a single strand of pressure and slowly wiggled the bullet until it fell out of her shoulder. The wound sizzled and healed before his eyes. Then he gave the demon a real look.

Her skin was a light lilac purple, and her black hair was tied back in a ponytail. She was wearing leggings and a soft orange sweater with her midriff exposed. Her bloody wound was already half healed, and the blood peeled off her skin, revealing unblemished flesh beneath.

"I thought all of this was a dream, you know. The system, the demons—it all feels like it's out of some game or dream. How can this be real?"

She looked away. "I didn't know. One minute, I'm pulling an all-nighter, masturbating for my only, and the next, it is time to end the world. Hellhounds are everywhere, and I'm running and looking for help.

"You're a demon."

"Of course, you would only see us as a single group. I'm a demon of the 906th hell." She turned around and pulled part of her leggings down to reveal her pale lilac butt cheek with a 906 branded into it." 

Zack rubbed his scalp. Everything became ever more complicated. The prophet turned when he saw a flash of movement. He aimed his weapon as an imp with wings tore into the 5th story of the apartment, followed by a tidal wave of its brethren.

They were more monkeys with short batwings and hairless. Each of them had blotchy golden skin with blue veins running through it. Worse, they had no eyes, only smooth skin where their eyes should be.

He turned to the succubus. "Run," he yelled, shooting the nearest imp before it could grab Werezilith's leg. It was going to be a long night. If any of them lived long enough, he needed to find a member of the guild. Ron was their communications guy, and if he lived, he could expect a telepathic call sooner or later.

They shot through the door and shut it behind them. "It's worse out here."

A creature hovered over a body, feeding as the poor woman in her underwear twitched. It saw us from the corner of its eyes and raised its head, revealing itself as a goat demon. Black matted fur clung to its body, covered in gore. Its mouth was a series of barbed suckers extending and dripping with venom.

The goat demon raised a war hammer, and Zack shot it in the face. It tumbled down the stairs, but as he grabbed the hammer's handle, he tossed it to the succubus. She caught it with deft hands, much stronger than she appeared.

She slammed the hammer into the first imp to leave my apartment's head, and I felt a slight surge in my soul mass. While hell sluts were best at draining the souls of man like they're milking machines on cows, they can also process demonic energy into usable soul essence for me. Honestly, getting a demon contracted so early was a steal. My only worry was if she tried to mind control me later.

Zack grabbed her tail.

"Rude," She yelled.

"We must get on the street unless you can fly us with your wings."

"No wings until I'm level 50," Werelith said.

Zack clicked his tongue. That was a setback. They would have to settle for the streets, where all the chaos was happening. He shot another goat in the face as they descended.

Out the window, he saw a ring covered in archaic symbols stretching over the horizon. It was the foothold to Earth, and he was too underpowered to stop it. Zack needed weeks to be ready to begin, and it was already here.