Kael sat on the edge of the narrow bed. The oak door was bolted. The iron bands held fast.
The Monolith rested within arm's reach.
He closed his eyes.
"System."
Blue light surfaced against the darkness.
[ AETHER POINTS: 19.1 ]
[ VITALITY: 2.7 ]
[ STRENGTH: 2.8 ]
[ AGILITY: 1.8 ]
Kael looked at the last number.
1.8.
He flexed his right hand. Open. Close.
He felt the delay. A micro-second of lag between the neural impulse and the muscle contraction.
He remembered the Tiger. He remembered the impact shoving him back five meters before his feet could adjust. He remembered the blur of the creature's claws.
In the gap between thought and motion, death lived.
"Allocate," Kael said. "Agility to three."
[ AETHER POINTS: 19.1 -> 7.1 ]
The System responded.
Pain hit the nervous system first. It felt like live wiring threaded through his spine.
Kael arched his back. His jaw locked.
Under the skin, tendons tightened. Muscle fibers shed inefficient bulk, compressing into denser, faster twitch-bundles. Neural pathways fired in rapid bursts, forcing the signal speed to match the new hardware.
Sweat soaked the sheets.
The heat faded. Kael sat up. He grabbed the water flask on the floor.
The motion was a blur. The flask was in his hand before the air could hiss.
Zero latency.
He looked at the bed.
The Skin of the Abomination lay folded. The surface shifted with slow, geometric ripples.
[ HIGH-GRADE ANOMALY ]
Kael spread it out. Grey. Porous.
The patterns blurred across the surface, save for a palm-sized section where the lines intersected. The scars etched into the dermis repeated in a tight loop.
Kael drew his knife.
He pressed the blade into the center. The steel sank slow. Dense. It felt like cutting cured rubber.
He carved a rough square. The fragment came free, radiating warmth.
Kael wrapped the piece in cloth. He tucked it into the bottom of his pack.
He looked at the remains of the hide.
He tore a strip. He put it in his mouth.
Texture of elastic. It clung to his teeth. It tasted of nothing—a void of flavor that settled heavily in the throat.
He swallowed.
He tore another strip. Swallowed.
He finished the hide.
Kael waited.
He monitored his pulse. Steady.
He monitored his breath. Even.
The Furnace in his gut churned. The biomass vanished into the acid.
Kael watched the interface.
[ DIGESTION COMPLETE ]
No alerts. No inflammation. No stat changes.
Kael leaned back against the wall. He pressed a hand to his stomach.
The anomaly was gone. Buried in the engine.
He closed his eyes.
Blackwood Post woke in the mist.
The smell of wet wood and old iron hung over the mud. Kael moved through the street.
He stopped at a provisions stall.
Dried meat. Salt. Waxed cloth. A whetstone.
He paid the coins. He packed the supplies.
He walked past a bowyer's stall.
A slanted awning sheltered a rack of shortbows. Bundles of hand-cut arrows leaned against a crate.
Kael stopped. He looked at the Monolith on his back. He looked at the bows.
He remembered the Tiger. He remembered the distance between the iron slab and the creature's spine as it circled him.
He stepped to the rack.
The bowyer looked up. He was missing two fingers on his left hand. His eyes tracked Kael's hands.
"Looking?"
"Considering," Kael said.
He lifted a bow.
The wood pressed against his palm. Yew.
Kael closed his hand around the grip. The sensation rose from the material.
The grain resolved in his vision. Knots became density points. Stress lines glowed faintly against the bark.
Kael set the bow back.
"Good eye," the bowyer said. "Yew. Holds shape."
Kael paid. He took the bow, two bundles of arrows, and a spare string.
He walked away. The sensation in his palm lingered. A cold, structural audit.
Kael turned into a narrow side street. He stopped behind an abandoned shed.
He set the bow against the wall. He pressed his palm to the wood.
The structure unfolded in his mind. Flex points. Fracture limits.
Kael focused.
Something warm drained from his core into his hand.
The bow creaked. The fibers compressed.
He released the grip.
He drew it.
The weapon resisted. The draw weight had doubled. The limbs snapped back with violent speed.
Kael looked at the air in front of him.
He waited.
The air remained empty.
Something thinned inside him.
Aether ?
Kael moved into a storage hut. The air smelled of rot.
He set the bow down. He took out the remaining fragment of the Skin.
Palm-sized. Dense. The geometry tight.
He bit down.
The texture parted like cold rubber. He chewed. He swallowed.
Kael stood still.
He checked his pulse. Steady.
He checked his temperature. Normal.
He pressed a hand to his chest.
Silence.
He turned back to the wall. He touched a rusted lantern hanging from a nail.
The sensation returned. Thin metal. Weak welds. Rust spidering through the frame.
The pattern formed.
Kael straightened.
He gathered his things. He stepped back into the street. The bow settled against his spine.
Kael adjusted the strap.