Kurai found himself in a small clearing by a river, a welcome sight after the long, tense trek. He had covered nearly two hours of ground since his confrontation with the beasts, and for the moment, the jungle was quiet. No creatures stalked him, no growls or shrieks pierced the stillness, and for once, he allowed himself a brief breath of relief.
With a thin branch from a tree now in hand, Kurai was working on something more useful. He knelt near the edge of the river, using a sharp stone he had scavenged to fashion the branch into a makeshift spear. His hands were steady, the movements deliberate as he twisted the stone into place, securing it with strips of fibrous material he had found along the way. It wasn't much, but it would do for now.
Vigilant, Kurai settled onto the ground with his legs crossed, forcing himself to maintain a stillness that was nearly unnatural. He didn't dare close his eyes as he normally did during meditation. His thoughts swirled around the sparse information he had received so far. While it wasn't much, it was enough to start drawing conclusions.
Survival was the first priority, but something else lingered in the back of his mind—strength and points, a strange connection. He reasoned that to gain both, he would have to hunt, to prove his worth and claim what was necessary to stay alive in this brutal world. The realization was clear: if he wanted to survive, he would need to become the hunter.
Not only that, but his stomach began to gnaw at him, reminding him of his growing hunger. Food was becoming a pressing concern. The realization of his need for sustenance was unavoidable now. As for water, he had tested the river's edge when he arrived, and thankfully, it seemed drinkable for the time being. That, at least, was one problem he didn't have to worry about—at least for now. But the lack of food would soon become a hindrance, a weight on his body he couldn't ignore.
At first, he had dismissed the idea of joining others. Most of the people brought here were likely weak from the looks of it, more burden than benefit. He had no interest in watching over those who couldn't keep up. But as he considered the challenges ahead—injury, exhaustion, shelter—he recognized an inconvenient truth. No matter how strong he became, there would come a moment when he'd be wounded, when his body would betray him. And when that happened, having others could mean the difference between life and death.
Tch. A bitter pill to swallow.
Still, he wouldn't blindly trust anyone. If he sought allies, they would need to be useful. Capable. Willing to pull their weight. He couldn't afford dead weight in a place like this.
His grip tightened on the spear. For now, he would focus on the hunt. Strength first. Everything else would follow.
Taking a few minutes to steel his mind and fortify his resolve, Kurai rose to his feet. The quiet determination settled in his chest as he tested the grip of his spear. With careful steps, he began retracing his path, making sure to mark the trees with X-shaped slashes as he passed. It was a simple tactic, but effective enough to ensure he would find his way back.
The forest remained eerily quiet aside from the rustling of leaves beneath his feet, he didn't recognize these parts he realized, so ever cautious, Kurai moved with measured steps, his spear held firm, his breathing controlled. After about an hour —his ears caught something. Faint at first, barely audible through the dense foliage.
A scream.
His grip tightened around the spear. Another scream followed, this one more desperate, raw with terror. He couldn't place the exact distance, but it wasn't far. Without hesitation, he adjusted his footing and moved, his pace quickening as he weaved between the towering trees.
As he drew closer, the sounds sharpened—shouts, frantic movement, the unmistakable sound of struggle. The metallic scent of blood reached him, faint but distinct. He slowed his steps, moving into the undergrowth, his body lowering instinctively as he neared the scene.
Then he saw them.
A group of four people backed against the base of a massive tree, their expressions twisted in fear. Surronding them were two creatures different from the ones he had encountered earlier. These were taller, almost humanoid in stature, but grotesquely twisted—lean, sinewy bodies covered in chitinous plates that gleamed dully in the filtered sunlight. Their elongated arms ended in gnarled, clawed fingers, twitching with anticipation. Their faces were the most disturbing—sunken, hollow pits where eyes should have been, and vertical slits for mouths that expanded grotesquely as they exhaled in raspy, clicking noises.
They moved with an unsettling fluidity, their long limbs folding and unfolding like puppets on invisible strings, encircling the group as if savoring the fear rolling off them. The tallest of the creatures tilted its head, angling toward the trembling humans as if listening to their rapid heartbeats.
Kurai watched the creatures' movements, noting their calculated approach rather than a wild charge. The chitinous armor covered most of their bodies, but their faces were exposed, and he saw the rise and fall of their ribs with each breath. The armor left their vital organs vulnerable in places. He gave his makeshift spear a final glance.
It should hold, he thought, moving into position.
***
Fear choked the air, thick and suffocating.
Mira clenched the broken branch in her trembling hands, the crude weapon offering little reassurance against the horrors that stalked them. She and the others had fled blindly through the jungle, hoping—praying—that they could lose the creatures in the dense foliage. But it had been futile.
The things had hunted them down with terrifying patience, always just a step behind, driving them toward this massive tree like cornered prey. Now, there was nowhere left to run.
Beside her, Jace gritted his teeth, gripping a jagged rock as if sheer determination could make it a real weapon. Theo was already wheezing from exhaustion, and Elias, their self-proclaimed leader, had gone eerily silent, his eyes darting desperately for an escape that didn't exist.
The creatures loomed before them, their twitching claws flexing, their hollow faces tilting with a sick, predatory curiosity. They weren't rushing in for the kill. They were savoring the moment.
Then, without warning—
A figure dropped from above, landing with a solid impact. In one swift motion, a spear drove clean through the skull of the nearest creature, the tip bursting through the other side with a sickening crunch. The beast convulsed violently before crumpling to the ground, lifeless.
Silence, for the briefest of moments.
The second monster shrieked, its hollow face snapping toward the intruder. It lunged, claws slashing in a blur, but Kurai was already moving. His eyes darted to the creature's joints, the areas where the chitinous armor didn't cover its body completely. He ducked beneath a swipe, letting the strike whistle past him, then stepped in close, aiming the spear's haft at the creature's exposed ribcage, forcing it off balance.
The creature was quick. It lashed out with a clawed foot, and Kurai had to pivot to avoid the strike, the talons grazing past his shoulder. He twisted around, narrowly avoiding another slash, and with a quick step forward, thrust the spear's haft into the gap beneath the creature's arm, aiming for its unprotected side.
The creature recoiled, but Kurai didn't give it time to recover. He shifted his grip on the spear, now angled to strike at its chest where the chitin was thinner, right above the sternum. The tip sank deep, just beneath the protective plates, piercing the creature's heart with brutal precision. It let out a shrill, gurgling screech as the spear tore through the fragile flesh, its limbs flailing wildly in a futile attempt to dislodge the weapon.
Kurai twisted the spear, grinding the stone tip further into the wound. The creature's flailing slowed, and with a final shudder, it collapsed, its body twitching once before falling still.
Silence returned, broken only by the ragged breaths of the survivors.
Kurai straightened, pulling his weapon free with a sharp yank. His gaze flicked toward the group. They stared at him, wide-eyed, too stunned to speak.
"…You're alive," he said simply. "Good."