As the behemoth emerged, the atmosphere changed. The excitement and joy from earlier quickly turned into fear and despair.
And then… the beast moved.
Miller didn't even have time to run before the behemoth's jaws closed around his torso. There was a wet crunch as his spine snapped like a twig. Blood sprayed across the clearing in a wide arc.
The creature shook its head once, and Miller's body came apart in its mouth.
Kaelon's eyes widened in horror. "SCATTER!" he screamed.
The squad exploded in every direction.
Chen ran left. But he was too slow.
The behemoth's tail—a muscular appendage tipped with bone spikes—whipped around and caught him across the chest.
BAM!
The impact folded him in half backward, ribs shattering audibly. He flew fifteen meters and hit a tree with enough force to crack the trunk. He slumped to the ground, twitching once, then passed away.
Two people were already dead… in just five seconds.
"Take formation!" Kaelon roared, his hands glowing blue as he activated his abilities. "I'll take point! Everyone else provide covering fire!"
The whole squad opened up with their rifles. Bullets sparked off the Behemoth's hide like rain on a tank. The monster didn't even flinch. Instead, it roared and charged toward them.
"It's not working!" Salazar shrieked, reloading with shaking hands. "The beast's got tough skin!"
Kaelon gritted his teeth, his hands glowing with kinetic energy. "Out of my way!" He moved forward and intercepted the behemoth, his enhanced strength allowing him to move with superhuman speed.
Then he unleashed a blast of force, a shockwave that would have leveled a tank. It hit the Behemoth square in the chest.
The monster stumbled back a step. But that was it. It shook its head, annoyed, and locked its gaze on Kaelon.
Kaelon's eyes widened. "It's Impossible..." he whispered, fear finally cracking his arrogance. "That was my strongest hit."
But the behemoth didn't even give him time to recover. It charged.
Panic took over the entire squad. The formation broke, and everyone scattered.
By the time Kaelon was about moving, the behemoth was already upon him. Its claw came down like a guillotine.
Kaelon rolled aside, but not fast enough. The edge of the strike caught his shoulder, tearing through his armor and cutting flesh. He screamed and stumbled back, blood pouring down his arm.
The beast roared in triumph and turned toward the others.
Rodriguez and Salazar were running, trying to reach the treeline. The behemoth's head snapped around, tracking them with terrifying speed. It crouched, and then… it jumped.
Whoosh!
It covered thirty meters in a single leap, landing directly in Rodriguez's path.
Rodriguez didn't even have time to raise his weapon. The behemoth's front claw came down and pinned him to the ground, crushing him flat. Blood pooled beneath the creature's foot.
Salazar screamed and fired point-blank into the beast's side. The bullets might as well have been raindrops against its skin.
Swipe!
The behemoth's other claw swung in a lazy arc and took Salazar's head clean off his shoulders. The body stood for a moment, arterial spray fountaining from the neck, then collapsed.
Four dead.
Kaelon watched in absolute horror.
His men were dying like flies, and he couldn't even land a solid hit on the beast.
There was only one option now.
"FALL BACK!" he screamed, clutching his wounded shoulder. "EVERYONE FALL BACK NOW!"
The remaining squad members—Thorne, Hox, Vickers, Okonkwo, and Max—turned and ran.
Max's mind was screaming at him. Move. Move. MOVE.
Then he spotted a narrow ravine to the east—a tight squeeze the Behemoth couldn't possibly fit through. It was the perfect escape route.
"This way!" Max shouted to the remaining men. "Through the ravine!" He sprinted, his lungs burning. He was close.
But then… the behemoth's eyes locked onto him. It ignored everyone else and turned toward the fleeing Max. And without hesitation, it whipped its tail.
The tail moved faster than Max's eyes could track. And then…
WHACK!!
It hit him in the side.
The force was catastrophic. Max was launched into the air, smashing into a tree trunk with a sickening thud. He slid to the ground, his vision swimming in red. Bones screaming in pain, but he was still alive. Barely.
He immediately tried to stand, but his right leg screamed in agony. He looked down only to see that his tibia had snapped, bone protruding through the fabric of his pants. Blood also poured from a gash over his left eye, blinding him on one side.
"Aaargh!" Max gritted his teeth, forcing down a scream.
Through his remaining eye, he saw the behemoth turning toward him, jaws opening wide.
"Help!" Max screamed, reaching out. "Kaelon!"
Kaelon stood thirty meters away, mind racing. The Behemoth was blocking his path to the ravine. But it was distracted. It was headed for Max, fully focused on the easy meal in front of it.
Kaelon saw this as an opportunity. The beast's back was turned. It was a perfect opening. He stretched out his hands, channeling every ounce of his awakened power.
"Now!" he shouted to the remaining soldiers. "Fall back! To the ravine!"
Then he used his kinetic power… not to attack, but to launch a cloud of dust and debris into the Behemoth's face, momentarily blinding it.
"Go! Go! Go!"
Kaelon and the remaining squad members sprinted toward the ravine Max had spotted—the escape route he'd found. One by one, they disappeared into the narrow passage.
All except Max.
His leg was broken. There was no way he could walk… not to mention run. And to his dismay, no one seemed to be stopping to help. They all just left him there.
"Kaelon!" Max screamed, his voice breaking with desperation and pain. "Help me! Please!"
Kaelon turned, and their eyes met across the clearing.
"Kaelon!" Max wheezed, reaching out a bloody hand. "Come on… you gotta help me!"
But Kaelon didn't move. He simply looked down at Max. He looked at the shattered leg. He looked at the Behemoth shaking off the dust, already recovering.
He couldn't go back for Max now. It was already too late. Going back would mean both their deaths. But at least this way, one would survive.
And moreover, Kaelon saw an opportunity.
A world without Max was a world where Maxine had no one else to turn to. She'd have no choice but to accept him.
"You found us a way out, Caldwell," Kaelon said, his voice void of emotion. "Good job."
"Please..." Max begged, having understood the implication of those words. "Don't leave me."
Kaelon didn't blink. "You're dead weight, Max. You always were. But don't worry… I'll take good care of Maxine. I promise," he flashed a grin. Then he turned and ran, disappearing into the ravine and leaving Max to his terrible fate.
"No..." Max whispered. "Come back… Please!"
But Kaelon was already gone, disappearing into the gap with the others.
The Behemoth roared, clearing its eyes. It looked around for its prey. It saw the ravine, empty. Then it looked down at the broken boy at the base of the tree.
It huffed, a sound like grinding stones. It began to walk toward him. Slow. Deliberate.
Max dragged himself backward. His fingers dug into the soil, pulling his ruined body inch by agonizing inch.
The Behemoth stepped closer. It wasn't in a hurry. It knew its prey was broken.
Max kept crawling, his right leg trailing behind him like a piece of dead meat. Every movement of his body caused him an extreme pain that threatened to black out his mind. But he kept moving.
The Behemoth lurched after him, stepping slowly, its heavy footfalls vibrating through Max's chest. It was taking its time.
Max knew the beast was simply toying with him… watching him toil helplessly in the dirt bed finally killing him. But Max wouldn't go down without a fight.
He rolled onto his back, gasping, his hand fumbling for the dagger in his boot. He was going to hurt the behemoth… one way or the other.
The beast loomed over him, a mountain of horror. It saw that Max was no longer running. It moved closer and raised its claw, then drove it through Max's stomach, pinning him to the ground.
"AAAAHHH!" Max screamed, the sound tearing his throat raw. He was pinned. Trapped like an insect.
But he had the beast right where he wanted it.
With a roar of pure, unadulterated spite, he slammed his rusted dagger into the soft tissue of the creature's ankle.
SKREEEE!
The monster shrieked in pain. It stumbled back, pulling its claw from Max's gut.
Max didn't wait. He flipped over, clutching his intestines inside his body with one hand, and crawled. He crawled because he had to survive… for Maxine. He crawled because he needed to get back to her. He couldn't leave her all alone in this world.
The beast recovered, and it was furious. It leaped and landed directly on Max's good leg.
CRUNCH!
Max felt the bone snap. He cried out in agony. But in a final, mad burst of adrenaline, he twisted his body, tearing his own flesh free from the beast's grip, leaving half his lower leg behind in the monster's claws.
Slower now. Weaker. His body was shutting down, blood loss dragging him toward unconsciousness.
But he kept moving.
He was a ruin of a man. A red trail followed him as he reached the center of the clearing.
And just as he pulled himself forward, his hand hit something cold. Stone-like. He tilted his head upward to see what he'd touched.
It was the ancient tombstone he'd seen earlier, the green crystal atop it humming with a low, rhythmic thrum.
Max's blood-soaked hand gripped the crystal. He tried to pull himself up, but his strength was gone. The world was fading into a grey mist.
He heard the Behemoth's heavy breathing behind him. He knew it was over.
The Behemoth took its time now. It began to play again, stabbing Max in the shoulders, the arms, the back—shallow, agonizing wounds meant to savor the kill.
Max collapsed against the base of the stone, barely conscious. He couldn't move anymore. His body was destroyed. He had no legs to run with, no hands to fight with, and his blood was soaking into the soil.
This was truly the end for him.
The behemoth stepped back, satisfied that its prey was finally done for.
Max's lips moved, forming words that came out as barely a whisper.
"I'm sorry, Maxine," he whispered, his head drooping against the cold stone. "I'm sorry, Mom. I tried to survive, I really did. But in the end… I failed."
He looked up at the green crystal, catching the reflection of the behemoth that loomed above him.
"I hate you," he whispered, his voice laced with pure rage. "I hate this world. I hate the monsters in it… monsters like you and Kaelon."
"I wish I had the power to eliminate all of you."
He closed his eyes, waiting for the end. "If I could just have a second chance," he thought. "Just one more chance… to kill them all…"
In that moment, his heart gave one final, stuttering throb.
Then, it stopped.
Max died.
Silence claimed the graveyard. The Behemoth leaned in, its maw opening to feast on the fresh corpse.
Suddenly, the green crystal bloomed.
Whruum!
An explosion of emerald light erupted from the tombstone, a pillar of jade fire that pierced the blackened sky. It was so bright it blinded the Behemoth, sending the creature recoiling with a shriek of terror. Reality didn't just bend; it fractured. The light swallowed the forest, the beast, Max's corpse.
It swallowed everything. Including Max's soul. And then, impossibly…
Max opened his eyes.
But he wasn't in the forest anymore. He was standing in a completely different realm.
He looked down at himself. He was whole. No blood. No missing leg. But he felt... hollow. Incomplete.
He spun around trying to make sense of his new surroundings. It was a place of impossible scale.
The sky was a vault of obsidian, stretching into infinity. Giant chains, thick as skyscrapers, hung from the void, anchoring into a floor of polished black glass. In the distance, rivers of green fire flowed silently. In the center of this vast chamber sat a throne carved from bones and shadow.
Max walked toward it, his footsteps echoing in the silence. The air tasted of ash and ancient dust.
On the throne sat a man. He looked to be in his mid-forties, with sharp features and dark hair threaded with silver. He wore a simple black tunic that seemed to drink the light, and his eyes were the color of polished slate—cunning, ancient, and utterly bored. He leaned his chin against a closed fist, watching Max with mild interest, like a scientist observing an interesting specimen.
"Well," he said, his voice smooth and measured. "You died quite spectacularly."
Max opened his mouth, but no words came out. He was still stunned by the whole situation.
"No grand last stand," the man continued, leaning back in his throne. "No heroic sacrifice. You simply… crawled. Bled. And died alone in the dirt while begging for help that never came." He smiled faintly. "It's pathetic, really."
Anger flared in Max's chest—hot and sharp. "Fuck you."
The man's smile widened. "Ah. There it is. That hatred and anger inside of you. It is far more useful than despair."
Max clenched his fists, feeling strength return to his limbs. "Where am I? And who are you?"
The man smiled, a thin, humorless expression. "I am the keeper of the debts. The end of all things. You may call me Hades."
Max stared, his mind struggling to process the impossibility. "Hades?" he repeated in disbelief. "As in the god of death?"
The man smiled, and it was the most terrifying thing Max had ever seen. "The Greeks had many names for me. But I prefer 'manager of the damned souls,'" he chuckled. "But yes, I am the same Hades you know from your myths and lores. And as you might have guessed… this is my domain. The underworld."
Max let out a shaky breath. His brain had singled out two words.
The Underworld.
His stomach dropped. "But that means…"
"Yes, you're dead," Hades finished for him. "Very, very dead."
Max's mind reeled. He had truly died in that forest. But before he could even process the weight of this fact, another thought hit him.
"Wait… why am I here?" he demanded. "Why aren't I just… elsewhere? Maybe in some sort of purgatory or paradise?"
Hades stood, descending the steps of his throne with measured grace. "Because your death occurred on my ground. That clearing—those treasures? They were mine. Bait I set for creatures foolish enough to disturb my markers." He gestured toward Max's chest. "And you, in your desperation, touched something sacred. My tombstone."
He stopped a few paces away, those dark, fathomless eyes boring into Max.
"You caught my attention, Max."
Max's anger hardened into something sharper. "So what? You brought me here to mock me before sending me to… wherever?"
"No." Hades tilted his head. "I brought you here to make you an offer."
"An offer," Max repeated flatly.
"The world above is broken," Hades said, beginning to pace slowly around Max. "The apocalypse you lived through—the monsters, the dungeons, the awakening of powers—do you think that was random? Natural?"
Max shook his head. "I… I don't know."
"Of course you don't. You're merely a mortal." Hades stopped, fixing Max with a sharp look. "The gods are involved. My dear siblings on Olympus meddle in mortal affairs, playing their games while millions die. Zeus sends monsters into the world. Ares revels in the bloodshed. While everyone else simply watches for fun, like it's some sort of entertainment."
Max's breath caught. "The gods… are real?"
"Always have been. We simply stopped pretending to care about subtlety a decade ago." Hades resumed pacing. "And now the world teeters on the edge of complete collapse. Monsters multiply beyond natural limits. The balance I've maintained for millennia crumbles. Death itself has become… chaotic. Unbalanced."
"Why do you care?" Max demanded. "You're the god of death. Isn't chaos and destruction what you want?"
Hades laughed—a cold, sharp sound. "Death is not chaos, boy. Death is order. Every life must end, yes, but on its proper terms, at its proper time. What's happening now? This endless slaughter, this corruption of natural law? It offends me."
He stopped directly in front of Max.
"I need a champion. Someone to walk the world above. Someone to kill what needs killing. Someone to collect the souls of the powerful and restore balance through death."
Max's heart pounded. "A champion."
"Yes." Hades smirked. "You have a lot of anger in you, Max. Most souls arrive here weeping for their lives. You? You died wishing you could kill everyone. That will to live. To survive. To destroy. It is exactly what I require of my champion."
Max didn't quite understand what the offer entailed yet. But the first thing that came to his mind was.
"And what do I get out of this?" he asked.
Hades' smile returned, cruel and knowing. "You get to live. You get power. And most importantly—" his eyes glittered with dark amusement, "—you get to kill them."
Max's breath stopped.
"The monsters that hunt you. The people who abandoned you. That Awakened who looked into your eyes and chose to let you die." Hades leaned in slightly. "I can give you the strength to make them all pay. Every. Single. One."
Silence stretched between them.
Max's mind raced. Revenge. Power. A second chance.
Everything he'd ever wanted since about five minutes ago.
"What exactly do you need me to do?" he asked carefully.
"Collect souls. The powerful ones. Those who defy death—monsters, heroes, champions of other gods. Kill them. Claim them. Bring their power to me, and I will grant you strength beyond mortal limits."
Max studied Hades, trying to discern if everything he was saying wasn't just a lie or some kind of trap. According to the myths, Hades wasn't exactly the nice guy.
"If you don't mind me asking…" he muttered. "What kind of power will you give me?"
Hades' lips curled into a grin. "I will give you the power to raise the dead, to command the fallen. You will walk the earth not as a victim, but as a reaper. You will collect the souls of the powerful, and in doing so, build your own army while at the same time restoring the balance."
"Hecate has already agreed to provide the… mechanism for the inflow of power." Hades added, gesturing lazily. "Just think of this as a contract. You work for me, and I make you strong enough to survive."
Max raised a brow. "And if I refuse?"
"Then you stay here. Forever. One soul among billions, forgotten and powerless." Hades shrugged. "Your choice."
Max thought of Maxine. Of his mother dying wish. Of Kaelon's cold eyes as he turned away. Of the behemoth's claws tearing into him while he screamed for help that never came.
His hands clenched into fists.
"Can I really kill them? The monsters? The gods?" he asked, voice low and dangerous.
Hades' smile grew. "All of them."
Max's gaze turned cold. "Then I accept."
Hades flashed a mischievous grin. "Good choice, mortal," he said, clearly pleased with the outcome of things. "You are going to make a fine champion."
Then he stepped back and clapped once. "Okay, sister. You may do your thing."
Max raised a brow, wondering who Hades was referring to. But before he could say anything, a green light suddenly erupted around him, blinding and cold. He felt something—someone—else touch his consciousness. A presence vast and ancient, but different from Hades.
"Rise my Scion…" a gentle, feminine voice whispered into his mind. "I grant you dominion over death itself. You have now been marked by Khaos. Go forth and let the world see the true power of Aides."
The light intensified, burning through Max, rewriting something fundamental in his very soul.
Then he slowly began to lose consciousness, his vision gradually fading. But just as he thought he was going to pass out…
Gasp!
Max gasped, his lungs burning as they pulled in the crisp air of his familiar world.
He was suddenly back in the forest. Back on earth. Alive.
He sat up, his hands clutching the dirt. He looked down. His body was whole—his leg was back, his eye was clear—but he was covered in the dried, copper-smelling crust of his own blood.
He looked around wildly, trying to access his situation.
The sky was already dark, the moon peaking through the clouds. The tombstone was gone. In its place was a scorched circle of earth.
"Was it real?" he murmured to himself, his mind thinking back to his encounter with Hades. "Was any of that real?"
Just then, his memory of the past few hours surfaced with fragmented clarity—the Behemoth's claw through his stomach, his own intestines in his hands, the desperate crawl through dirt and pain, the green crystal's light enveloping everything. Then Hades' throne room, the offer, the acceptance. Then darkness. Then suddenly back in this clearing, healed, alive.
"So… it was real," he mumbled, his voice cracking slightly at the sheer realization that he'd died… then returned to life. "All of it…"
His eyes trailed off, his mind trying to process everything that had happened. And that's when he saw it.
The behemoth.
It lay ten meters away, sprawled on its side in a pool of black blood. Motionless. Dead.
A massive hole had been punched through its chest—burned and cauterized, edges still smoking faintly. The smell of cooked meat and charred bone filled the air.
Max's breath hitched.
He stared in shock, his mind reeling. Who… or what had done that? Could it have been Hades?
But before he could even process the scene, a translucent blue screen suddenly materialized in his vision, hovering in the air.
[System Initializing...]
Text scrolled across the screen, glowing with a faint, ethereal light.
[Rejoice, the God of Death and the Goddess of Witchcraft have chosen you to be their champion]
Max blinked. "Huh? What's this?" he asked, looking genuinely stunned.
The clearing offered no answer. The Behemoth's corpse lay meters away, massive and motionless. The tombstone that had saved him—was gone, replaced by scorched earth. His own body was covered in dried blood, black in the moonlight, flaking from skin that felt cold and wrong.
Then the screen displayed another set of information.
[Initialization Complete]
[Congratulations. You have received the Necromancer System]