The sun dipped below the jagged peaks of the Shihan Mountains, casting long shadows over Sterlitamak. Aydar Salavatov pedaled his creaky bicycle through the dusty streets, the weight of a dozen delivery bags slung over his shoulder. At 23, he was nobody special—a courier scraping by to help his mother after his father's death two years ago. His dad had been a hunter, a gruff man who'd filled Aydar's childhood with tales of batyrs riding across the steppes, wielding swords forged by the spirits of the Ural Mountains. Now, those stories felt like childish dreams, drowned out by the hum of traffic and the monotony of his life.
Tonight, though, something was off. The air buzzed with a strange tension, like the static before a storm. Aydar slowed his bike near the edge of town, where the asphalt gave way to a scraggly field dotted with wildflowers. He squinted into the dusk. A ripple shimmered in the air, like heat rising off pavement—but it was March, too cold for that. The ripple widened, and a sound like cracking stone split the silence.
Before he could react, the ripple tore open into a jagged oval, ten feet tall, glowing with an eerie violet light. Aydar's breath caught. It looked like a portal from one of those video games his cousin played. Then came the stench—rotting wood and damp earth—and a low, guttural growl.
A figure emerged. It was massive, easily eight feet tall, with a body of twisted bark and claw-tipped fingers that scraped the ground. Its eyes burned red, and its mouth split into a grin too wide for its face. Aydar's stomach dropped. He'd heard of Shurale from his father's tales: a forest trickster who tickled people to death in the woods. This thing? This was no trickster. It was a nightmare given form.
Screams erupted nearby. A group of teens who'd been loitering by the field scattered as the Shurale lunged, its claws slashing through a metal bench like it was paper. Aydar froze, instinct screaming at him to pedal away. But then he saw her—a girl, maybe ten years old, tripping over her own feet as she ran. The Shurale's head snapped toward her, its grin widening.
"Move!" Aydar shouted, dropping his bike and sprinting toward her. He didn't know what he was doing—his legs moved on their own. The girl stumbled again, and the Shurale raised a claw. Aydar dove, shoving her out of the way just as the claw slammed down, gouging the earth where she'd been.
Pain flared in his shoulder where a splintered branch had grazed him. He scrambled to his feet, pulling the girl behind him. The Shurale loomed closer, its growl vibrating in his chest. This was it. He was going to die, torn apart by some monster from a fairy tale.
Then the world shifted.
A translucent screen flickered into existence before his eyes, glowing faintly against the chaos:
[System Activation]
User: Aydar Salavatov
Rank: E (Weakest)
Ability Unlocked: Voice of the Urals
Description: Channel the resonance of the Ural Mountains into a sonic wave. Range: 5 meters. Strength: Low.
Quest: Defeat the Shurale. Reward: +10 Strength, Batyr's Blade.
Aydar blinked. Was this a hallucination? The Shurale didn't care—it lunged again, claws gleaming. No time to think. He opened his mouth, not sure what he was supposed to do, and shouted, "Get back!"
The air rippled. A low, booming wave erupted from his voice, slamming into the Shurale. It wasn't much—just enough to stagger the beast a step—but it bought him a second. The girl whimpered behind him, and Aydar's mind raced. Five meters. Low strength. He needed a plan.
The Shurale recovered, roaring as it charged. Aydar grabbed the girl and bolted toward a cluster of trees near the field's edge. His dad's stories echoed in his head: Shurale hated being outsmarted. Maybe he could use that. He darted behind a thick pine, shoving the girl into a hollow at its base. "Stay here," he hissed, then stepped out to face the monster.
"Hey, ugly!" he yelled, voice cracking. The Shurale's eyes locked onto him. Aydar sucked in a breath and unleashed the Voice again. The sonic wave hit, weaker this time, barely rattling the creature's bark-like skin. But it was enough to draw its attention fully to him.
He ran, weaving through the trees, the Shurale crashing after him. Branches snapped under its weight, and its claws gouged the earth. Aydar's lungs burned, but he spotted his chance—a rusted tractor abandoned in the field. He sprinted toward it, ducking behind its bulk just as the Shurale swiped. The claw caught the metal, shearing off a chunk with a screech.
Aydar circled back, panting. The System screen flickered again:
Quest Progress: Shurale HP 85/100
He'd barely scratched it. The Shurale turned, slower now, its claw tangled in the tractor's frame. Aydar's eyes darted to the ground—a jagged rock, about the size of his fist. Not much, but better than nothing. He snatched it up, took aim, and shouted again, hurling the rock with the Voice's ripple behind it.
The rock struck the Shurale's glowing eye. A sickening crack echoed as the red light dimmed, and the beast howled, thrashing wildly. Aydar didn't stop. He grabbed another rock, then another, each throw boosted by his shaky sonic waves. The Shurale's movements slowed, its bark cracking under the barrage.
Finally, it collapsed, its body dissolving into black mist. The System chimed:
Quest Complete: Shurale Defeated
Rewards: +10 Strength, Batyr's Blade
Level Up: E-rank → E+
A weight settled in Aydar's hand. He looked down to see a short, curved sword, its blade etched with swirling patterns like the Ural rivers. Exhaustion hit him like a truck, but he stumbled back to the girl, helping her out of the hollow. Sirens wailed in the distance—help was coming.
Above them, the Gate pulsed once more, then vanished. Aydar stared at the sword, then at the System screen still hovering in his vision. Whatever this was, it wasn't over.