Kaelen ran. He didn't know where he was going, just away. Away from the strange fungus people, away from the spot where he felt exposed, away from the ghost-smell of the Chrome Hound. His heart felt like it was trying to beat its way right out of his chest. Fear wasn't just a thought; it was cold and heavy in his stomach, making his legs shake even as he forced them to move through the dark, damp tunnels.
He felt so alone. Really, really alone. Lost in this messed-up, broken world with only the weird System in his head for company. And the System? It felt less like company and more like a hungry ghost riding on his back, always demanding more. He stumbled, catching himself on a slimy wall, the touch sending shivers down his spine despite his tougher skin. He just wanted to curl up somewhere dark and disappear. But where? Nowhere felt safe. Not anymore.
Driven by pure, animal need for safety, he found a small space off a side tunnel – maybe an old maintenance closet, half-filled with fallen rocks and broken pipes. It smelled awful, like rust and old water, but it was small, hidden. Using shaking hands, he dragged a heavy piece of fallen metal sheeting across the opening. Not a real door, but maybe enough to keep things out for a little while. Maybe.
He slid down the wall, pulling his knees to his chest, finally letting himself breathe. The darkness pressed in. Silence, except for his own ragged breathing and the drip-drip-drip of water somewhere nearby. And in the silence, the weight of everything crashed down on him. Dr. Thorne, mutated into that thing. The fungus people, living but maybe not really human anymore. That creepy System message about "Reboot Sequence 7." And the Hound, that metal killer, still out there. He felt so tired, deep down tired, like every step was pulling him closer to just… stopping. Giving up.
A flicker of memory, sharp and unwanted, flashed behind his eyes – a face, laughing. Gone now. Lost in the chaos when the world broke. The memory made the ache in his chest worse. No. Can't stop. He pushed the memory away, hard. Giving up meant dying. Giving up meant they won – whatever 'they' were.
He forced himself to focus. Check the System. Understand the new skills. [Spore Resonance (Tier 1)]… he could still feel the faint hum of the network, even here. It felt less intense, thankfully. He tried to remember the feeling from the fungus people – that calm watchfulness. Were they dangerous? The [Fungal Symbiosis] pathway tempted him – answers, maybe safety? – but the memory of Dr. Thorne turning into that slug-thing made his stomach churn. Too risky. Not now.
His other senses wouldn't let him rest. His [Avian Vision] made every shadow in the small closet seem like a lurking monster. His [Chemoreception] tasted the damp air, picking up the scent of mold, rust, his own fear-sweat, and… was that it? The faintest, tiniest hint of ozone and metal? Or was he just imagining it now? Paranoid? God, he hoped he was paranoid.
Every little noise made him jump. The drip of water. The settling of the building. The skittering sound that was probably just rats… right?
Then he heard it. Not rats. Not the Hound's sharp clicks. This was a scraping sound. Slow. Heavy. Like something being dragged. And it was close. Really close. Coming from… inside the walls? Or the ventilation shaft that ran along the ceiling of his little hiding spot?
Panic surged, cold and electric. Oh no. No, no, no. He was trapped. Cornered. The walls felt like they were literally closing in.
He scrambled backwards, pressing himself flat against the far wall of the tiny space. His breath hitched. He activated [Adhesive Slime Generation], coating his palms without thinking, needing something, anything, ready. His eyes, straining in the dark, fixed on the rusty vent grille near the ceiling where the sound seemed loudest.
The scraping stopped. Right above him. Or right behind the thin metal sheet he'd used as a door.
Silence. Heavy, suffocating silence.
Tap.
A soft sound. Barely there.
Tap, tap.
Right on the metal sheet barricade. Something was outside. Something knew he was in here.
Kaelen held his breath, every muscle locked tight. Terror, pure and absolute, momentarily burned away the despair. He was face to face with a new door, and something unknown was knocking.