- Caw, caw -
A coarse caw escaped its beak as it gouged out the eye of its fellow crow, having slain it with a thrust from the three black horns protruding from its skull.
The only obvious visual difference between them was those three dark horns atop the killer's head—horns the fallen one lacked.
But in truth, one was a deadly invading plague, and the other merely a regular, helpless crow.
This scene played out on that ruined ground overrun with darkness, far from the safety of the walls.
And in that very place, Lowkey hid in the top floor of a ruined building overtaken by black moss, scanning the area through the cracks in the decaying walls.
That was all he had done for the past ten days, ever since he raided the plague nest of the "Sul" rank.
---
Ten Days Earlier
Near a tree coiled around a massive ruined building—its leaves crimson, and its fruit resembling headless wasps—
Lowkey was watching the Sul's lair.
Beside him, on the rock he was hiding behind, the black moss pulsed with a nauseating rhythm that intensified the tension of the already fear-drenched atmosphere.
Just as his focus peaked, Lowkey felt a presence behind him. He spun around, sword drawn in a flash—but to his surprise, there was nothing there.
"You… machine…"
he muttered as his eyes scanned the space before him.
But no reply came.
Only silence.
His brows, damp with sweat, furrowed.
"Machine, I need assistance here..."
he repeated.
Still no answer...
That chill on his forehead deepened with each bead of cold sweat.
Being alone in a land teeming with horrors was terrifying enough—but losing the only tool that helped you understand your surroundings was worse.
His chest rose and fell rapidly. His movements grew erratic, his limbs trembling intermittently.
At first glance, it seemed like mere pressure from the oppressive atmosphere.
But this was beyond that—closer to panic or oxygen deprivation.
Someone who had survived 27 missions, and taken a cell-enhancing serum, shouldn't crumble under mere pressure.
Pressing his right hand against his chest, he tried to regulate his breathing, using his left to brace himself against the crumbling wall beside him, seeking balance.
The blurred vision in front of him began to clear slightly—but not enough for him to act decisively.
He clenched his left fist and slammed it against the wall.
"Damn it… I'll pull out of here right now,"
he growled through clenched teeth, almost shattering them from the pressure.
But how could he flee when inside a Sul's nest?
A move like that could cost him his life—especially now that he had lost contact with his guide.
That made everything worse.
His body continued to tremble, his sight wavering between clarity and distortion.
In such a state, even the strongest would lose composure.
As he struggled to regain control, he felt another presence behind him.
He froze, breathless, forgetting his posture, then spun sharply and slashed his sword diagonally in the same motion—a sweeping arc that sliced through the air like a flickering spark.
By sheer chance, the blade struck something.
Before him stood a human-like horror—blurred and unclear due to Lowkey's condition.
All he could make out was a silhouette of a human face from which a large cocoon extended, riddled with shell-like mouths.
At the end of the cocoon were shadows shaped like octopus tentacles.
His sword had carved a path from the human mouth up through the skull, continuing into the cocoon.
The abomination let out a whispering growl—"Grrrrr"—
Soft, yet perfectly audible, before it wavered in the air and fell.
Perhaps this was proof of how effective a double-edged sword could be—especially when vision failed or when one was essentially blind.
"A plague of the Nazla rank?"
he whispered, raising his eyebrows and widening his eyes, exhaling lightly through clenched teeth.
It was one of the most dangerous plagues of the Nazla (Illusion Vendor) rank.
These parasites typically latched onto higher-ranked abominations.
It bore a wrinkled human face with long black hair, no body, only a cocoon and a series of tentacle-like limbs resembling octopus arms.
Lowkey's physical and mental state slowly began to stabilize.
He adjusted his awkward posture, sitting cross-legged next to the "Illusion Vendor," which now lay behind the rock—covered in black filth.
This land was infested with abominations; encountering one during an excursion beyond the walls was expected.
But losing contact with the machine because of it—that was something else entirely.
Something far more troubling than even the proximity of a Sul-rank plague.
He grabbed his sword, shook off the green blood, and wiped it with the tattered cloth of his black robe, then paused to assess his surroundings.
There was nothing immediately alarming—especially now that he had regained composure and dispelled the illusion cast by the "Vendor."
Suddenly, his ear twitched.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
A heavy, rhythmic sound struck the ground—drawing closer with each beat.
Lowkey turned toward the noise, which came from the same direction as his hover bike.
But nothing was visible—only black trees with red veins and collapsed buildings obstructing his view.
He furrowed his brow and clenched his teeth, eyes darting left and right.
Then bolted toward the nearest rubble—a structure formed by two leaning walls creating a triangle, almost like a tent.
But just before reaching it, a leg emerged from behind the trees—mere meters from where he'd been standing.
A long black leg, ending in four needle-like tentacles that resembled fingers.
By the time Lowkey squeezed into the gap between the walls, a massive spider-like creature loomed—eight legs ending in tendrils, a mouth filled with long sharp needles, and nineteen red eyes atop its head.
Its body was a trunk riddled with grooves, from which jagged cone-like structures protruded.
Its
tail—an enormous oval mass larger than its entire body—was covered in irregular, armor-like scales.