Silence hung over the place like a heavy shroud, broken only by Alex's tense breaths, ragged and uneven. Darkness swallowed the abandoned room he found himself in, barely pierced by the faint light filtering through the window, casting silver threads upon the cold stone walls. Despite this deadly calm, his heart pounded like a war drum, warning his body of an approaching catastrophe.
Then he heard it… footsteps.
They approached slowly, their weight echoing with every strike against the floor, as if dragged by a creature with heavy limbs. Something inside Alex shrank, and his instincts screamed that whatever emerged from behind that door would be neither friendly nor human.
The air around him was thick with dread; shadows danced along the walls as if observing him. From afar, strange cries echoed—a mix of muffled howls and twisted metallic screeches, raising the hairs on the back of his neck. That was the moment he decided he would not wait for death.
He closed his eyes and summoned what remained of his mana—the very essence he was learning to channel in this strange world. From the depths of his awareness, from that dark point where his will hid, energy began to gather.
Threads of silvery light emerged from his chest, curling around him like metallic mist, thickening until they took shape. Before him appeared an unusual being: a metallic octopus, its body transparent yet tinged with steel brilliance, as if each cell were crafted from unbreakable glass. Its armored plates glimmered in the moonlight, evoking a simultaneous sense of beauty and threat.
The octopus was no ordinary creature—it was a spiritual manifestation, an extension of Alex's own will. Yet it appeared alive, pulsating with an enigmatic energy.
It rose around Alex, forming a living shield encasing his entire body. Its head positioned around his chest and shoulders like a curved armor reflecting any approaching danger, while its eight arms coiled around him, moving with supernatural flexibility, waiting for his command.
Each arm was a deadly weapon, covered in dense metallic scales ending in sharp spear-like tips. When they touched the ground, a faint metallic scratch echoed, warning any who dared approach. The sight alone was enough to instill terror in any enemy. For Alex, however, it was a new sense of security, the feeling that he was no longer alone.
The footsteps moved again, closer this time.
The sound halted at the old wooden door. For a moment, silence reigned. Then came a faint noise, as if something was breathing behind the door.
Alex froze. He dared not move, focusing all his senses. By sheer will, he sent a mental signal to the octopus.
The metallic being's arms began to move slowly, sliding across the room like conscious shadows, anticipating the incoming attack.
Suddenly—A violent strike!
The door shook violently, followed by a stronger crash as wood splintered into the air.
Through the flying dust… emerged the creature.
It stood roughly five feet seven inches tall, its body gray as if made from hardened clay. Its eyes were vast, entirely black, without whites. From its head extended long twisted horns, resembling strands of petrified hair.
It was neither human nor animal.
It carried a black spear, a metal that absorbed rather than reflected light. Every movement of the weapon made Alex's chest tighten, as if the spear itself radiated unseen menace.
The creature's gaze fixed directly on Alex. It was no ordinary look—it was the predatory stare of one who has found new prey.
A low roar escaped it, a blend of anger and hunger. It took a single step forward, prompting the metallic octopus to automatically coil its arms around Alex in a defensive stance.
Suddenly, the creature attempted to scream—but before it could, Alex acted.
With a single thought, one of the octopus's tendrils shot forward, long and glimmering, wrapping tightly around the creature's neck.
Alex made it completely transparent, vanishing from human sight. The creature seemed to choke on nothing, while unseen arms pressed against its airway.
The being struggled, raising its spear to resist, but Alex was faster.
He sent two more arms to seize its own limbs, immobilizing it completely.
Then he launched the fourth tendril—like a spear.
It struck with incredible speed, piercing the creature's left chest and emerging from its back in one fluid motion.
Everything stopped.
Time itself seemed to freeze.
Alex stood, breathing rapidly, eyes fixed on the creature as its body collapsed slowly before him.
The tendrils remained gripping even after death, dragging the corpse to fall at his feet.
The scene was shocking… bloody, painfully real.
He stared at the being for long seconds. Though everything had occurred in moments, his perception stretched time as if he had killed for centuries.
Sweat streamed down his forehead, hands trembling, yet his eyes remained sharp, cold, unwavering.
He whispered softly:
> "What kind of world is this hell of a place?"
He bent to inspect the corpse.
Nothing indicated humanity; its skin was hard, its blood dark blue. Its features twisted, fangs long, muscles tensed as if made for combat alone.
"This thing was never human," Alex said to himself, breathing deeply to absorb what had happened.
He remembered the gaze it had given him moments before—the primal, savage hunger, devoid of reason or mercy. It had been created to hunt.
Alex lifted his head toward the ceiling, a chill crawling over his skin, yet a strange sense of relief seeped into his heart. He felt no guilt… none could arise after meeting that stare. He knew that had he not acted, he would have been the victim.
He reached out, pulling the spear from the creature's body in a single motion.
The weapon was slightly heavy but perfectly balanced, about six feet in length, its grip smooth yet cold, as if absorbing his heat.
Running his fingers along the metal, he felt a faint tingle—a strange energy unlike anything he had known.
Looking at his reflection on the black spear, he saw not his face clearly but shadows moving beneath it, as if the metal contained the souls or memories of past battles.
He smiled faintly, tense but determined.
> "If this is the new world… I'd better learn its rules quickly."
The metallic octopus returned to its calm state, the tendrils coiling back around its body before gradually dissolving into its form, leaving no trace as if they had never been. Alex felt a brief emptiness, as if a part of his soul had returned from it.
He sat against the wall, eyes fixed on the broken door.
The wind swept through the gap, carrying the scent of blood, metal, and something else unnamed… the smell of strangeness itself.
He lifted the spear again, observing its dark blue-stained edge, and whispered to himself:
> "This is no ordinary spear… it was made for killing."
He swallowed slowly, closing his eyes for a moment.
Within the surrounding darkness, the image of the metallic octopus lingered in his mind—a mysterious guardian, a blend of shield and weapon, life and death.
As his awareness began to calm, one thing became clear:
He had crossed the threshold.
No longer was he a lost human in a strange world—he had become a part of it.
A merciless world, where every creature is either a hunter or a prey