The apartment felt hollow. Benson stood in the doorway, his breath caught in his throat, eyes darting around the empty room.
"Mom?" he called again, quieter this time, though he already knew he wouldn't get an answer.
The faint smell of antiseptic floated around, the only sign that anyone had been there. The blanket he'd wrapped around her was folded neatly on the couch. No sign of struggle. No blood.
"She couldn't have walked out on her own," Benson muttered, stepping inside. The door clicked shut behind him, the sound echoing in the silence.
[Mission Update: Unknown Variable Detected.]
"Yeah, no kidding," Benson snapped, running a hand through his hair.
He dropped the bag of supplies on the counter and tried to think.
Where would she go? How could she go?
His thoughts were interrupted by Greed's voice, slithering into his mind like oil.
[Search for her. Expand. Take.]
Benson frowned. "Take? Take what?"
[Everything.]
For a moment, the hunger surged inside him again, pulling at his core. He shook his head violently, trying to push it down.
"No. No more consuming random creatures, okay? I need real answers!"
[Answers are everywhere. You only need to reach for them. Consume, extract, refine.]
The words hung in his mind, heavy and cryptic. Benson clenched his fists, pacing the room.
"What does that even mean?"
Then it hit him. Greed didn't just consume. It didn't just take power. It…. could it extract… information?
"Wait a second."
Benson's gaze landed on his arm, where faint traces of the creature's essence still remained. When he'd absorbed it, he'd taken its strength and reflexes. But there had been more—flashes of instinct, fragments of thought.
"Greed," he said cautiously, "can I… learn things? From what I consume?"
[Yes.]
The single word sent a chill down his spine.
Benson hesitated. "What else can I do with it? Show me."
There was a pause, then a new interface flickered into his vision:
[Greed's Abilities:]
Consume: Absorb the essence of others, gaining their abilities and strength. Extract: Access memories, knowledge, and instincts from consumed entities. Refine: Combine absorbed abilities to create something new.
The last one caught his attention.
"Refine?" he whispered, stepping closer to the counter like he could somehow see the system itself.
[You are incomplete. You must take more to become whole.]
The hunger stirred again, but this time, Benson didn't immediately fight it.
"What happens if I use 'Extract' on something I've already taken?"
[Try.]
Benson focused on the faint residue from the creature he'd consumed earlier. He could feel it, an oily presence beneath his skin. Tentatively, he reached inward, like he was grasping for something in the dark.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then his mind exploded with fragmented images.
A flickering fluorescent light. The sound of snarling. A sensation of hunger so intense it was all-consuming.
Benson gasped, stumbling back against the wall.
"Holy—"
The flashes slowed, fading into a single, clearer thought: Movement. A group. Something alive.
His breath caught. He didn't understand it completely, but he knew what it meant.
"Mom," he whispered.
The creature had seen her. It must have followed her, or… been near her.
Benson stood up straight, a renewed determination settling over him.
"Fine," he muttered. "If you're going to give me nightmares, at least let them be useful."
He didn't have much to go on, but the flashes in his mind pointed toward the building's rooftop. He grabbed the knife and started climbing the stairs, his muscles still aching from the fight earlier.
By the time he reached the top, his heart was pounding, and the hunger was clawing at him again.
The rooftop was eerily quiet. The red moon loomed overhead, bathing everything in its bloody light.
Benson stepped forward cautiously, scanning the area.
That's when he saw them.
Three figures stood near the edge of the rooftop, their silhouettes sharp against the crimson sky. Two of them were unfamiliar—a man and a woman, both armed, both tense.
The third was his mother. She was slumped against the railing, unconscious but seemingly unharmed.
"Mom!" Benson called out, but his voice was drowned out by a sharp laugh.
The man turned, a smirk spreading across his face.
"Well, well," he said. "Looks like the son decided to join the party."
Benson didn't hesitate. "Let her go."
The woman stepped forward, her eyes narrowing. "You're the one with the strange ability, aren't you?"
Benson froze. "How do you know that?"
"We've been watching you," she said, her voice cold. "You're dangerous, we've seen your sucking people dry. We can't have someone like you running around unchecked."
Benson blinked… They thought he was draining people's lives?
I am but….
"Dangerous?" Benson repeated, incredulous. "I'm just trying to survive!"
The man snorted. "Sure you are. And that ability? It's just a survival tool?"
Benson didn't answer. He didn't need to.
The woman raised a weapon—some kind of sleek, futuristic-looking rifle—and aimed it at him.
"You've got two choices," she said. "Come with us quietly, or—"
She didn't get to finish.
The hunger surged inside Benson, and before he could stop himself, he lunged.
The world seemed to slow as he moved, his enhanced reflexes kicking in. The woman fired, but Benson was already out of the way, closing the distance between them in seconds.
His knife flashed, slicing through the strap of her weapon. She stumbled back, and he followed up with a hard shove, sending her sprawling.
I'm not as fast as I was seconds ago… Benson registered.
The man came at him next, swinging a crowbar. Benson ducked, the movement almost instinctive, and drove his elbow into the man's ribs.
It wasn't enough to knock him out, but it gave Benson enough time to grab the rifle.
The man cursed, backing away. "You don't know who you're messing with!"
Benson leveled the rifle at him, his hands steady despite the adrenaline coursing through his veins.
"Try me."
The woman groaned, pushing herself to her feet. "This isn't over," she spat.
The man grabbed her arm, pulling her toward the edge of the roof.
"Let's go," he said. "We'll deal with him later."
They disappeared into the night, leaving Benson alone with his mother.
He dropped the rifle and rushed to her side, checking her pulse. She was alive.
For now, that was enough.
But as he looked up at the red moon, a sense of unease settled over him.
Who were those people? How had they been following him without his knowledge?
And most importantly… How many others were out there, watching?