Ethan stood at the edge of the corrupted land, his breath shallow and his pulse racing. The air shimmered unnaturally, distorting the landscape ahead. He hesitated, unsure of what lay before him, when a voice cut through the eerie silence.
"You're either brave or stupid to come this close."
Ethan spun around, his heart leaping into his throat. A man stood a few feet away, clad in tattered clothing and armed with what looked like a makeshift spear. His face was lined with exhaustion, but his eyes burned with sharp intensity.
"Who are you?" Ethan asked, trying to mask his unease.
The man smirked. "Name's Marcus. You don't look like a scavenger, and you're definitely not one of the Corrupted... yet."
Ethan frowned. "Yet?"
Marcus pointed toward the glowing veins faintly visible on Ethan's forearm. "That glow. It means you've been marked. The corruption's touched you, and if you don't learn how to control it, you're as good as dead."
Ethan glanced at his arm in shock. The faint light flickered, pulsating like a heartbeat. "I didn't ask for this."
"No one ever does," Marcus said grimly. "But the corruption doesn't care. It's in you now, and it'll either kill you or turn you into one of them. Your choice."
Ethan shook his head, stepping back. "I just want answers. My family disappeared two years ago, and no one can tell me why. I need to find out what's happening."
Marcus studied him for a moment, his expression softening slightly. "You're not the only one looking for answers, kid. But this? This corruption... it doesn't play fair. Every step you take into it, you lose something — your time, your sanity, your soul."
Ethan's jaw tightened. "Then I'll find a way to beat it."
Marcus let out a dry laugh. "Ambitious. I'll give you that. But if you're serious about surviving, you'll need more than determination." He gestured for Ethan to follow. "Come with me. I'll teach you the basics. But be warned, once you step into this world, there's no going back."
Ethan followed Marcus to a makeshift shelter hidden in the ruins of an old factory. The place reeked of rust and decay, but it felt safer than standing out in the open.
"Alright," Marcus began, tossing Ethan a rusted blade. "First rule of survival: Always have a weapon."
Ethan caught the blade awkwardly. "This thing looks like it'll fall apart if I sneeze."
"Better than your bare hands," Marcus retorted. "Now, show me how you'd defend yourself."
Ethan raised the blade uncertainly. "I've never—"
Before he could finish, Marcus lunged, swinging his spear. Ethan yelped, barely dodging the strike.
"Too slow," Marcus growled. "The monsters won't wait for you to get ready. Move!"
Ethan gritted his teeth, tightening his grip on the blade. He swung clumsily, missing by a wide margin. Marcus dodged easily, knocking the blade from Ethan's hand with a sharp jab.
"Pathetic," Marcus sneered. "You'll be monster food before nightfall."
Ethan's frustration boiled over. "Then teach me! You think I want to be here? I didn't ask for any of this!"
Marcus's expression softened. He picked up the blade and handed it back. "You're right. No one asks for this. But if you want to live long enough to get your answers, you'll need to fight. And to fight, you need to stop feeling sorry for yourself."
Ethan took the blade, his grip steady this time. "Fine. Show me."
After hours of grueling training, Ethan collapsed onto the cold concrete floor. His muscles ached, and his mind swirled with exhaustion, but something had changed. He felt sharper, stronger.
Marcus leaned against the wall, watching him. "Not bad for your first day. But remember, this is just the beginning. The corruption isn't just outside; it's inside you now. The real battle is learning how to use it without letting it consume you."
Ethan nodded, determination burning in his eyes. "I'll figure it out. I have to."
In the distance, a low, guttural roar echoed through the night. Marcus straightened, his face grim.
"Lesson two," he said, grabbing his spear. "Always be ready. They're coming."
Ethan picked up his blade, the glow on his arm intensifying as he prepared to face whatever was out there. The corruption whispered to him, promising power. He ignored it, focusing instead on the battle ahead.