The courtyard smelled like iron and wet stone. Blood had soaked into the cracks between the tiles, darkening them until the ground looked bruised. Bodies lay where they had fallen, some still, some twisted into shapes that no longer resembled sleep. Survivors moved carefully among them, stepping wide, eyes fixed anywhere but down. No one spoke above a whisper. Even grief seemed afraid to make noise.
Dorian stood with Helena near the edge of the courtyard, the Alpha's body already half gone, its shape collapsing inward as shadow peeled away from muscle and bone. What remained dissolved into ash-like fragments that scattered on a wind Dorian couldn't feel. When it was finished, something lay where the wolf had been. A cloak. Black, heavy, the hood rimmed with thick wolf fur that still carried the scent of ozone and blood. The fabric looked wrong, too dark, as if light slipped off it rather than resting there. Dorian crouched and reached for it. "You should take that," Helena said quietly. He looked back at her. She shook her head before he could speak. "You're the one fighting up close," she said. "You take it." He didn't argue. He lifted the cloak and draped it over his shoulders. It settled with a weight that felt earned. A translucent screen blinked into existence.
[ITEM IDENTIFIED]
ALPHA WOLF HIDE
+5 Strength
+5 Agility
EFFECT: Magic Resistance
The screen vanished. Dorian felt the change immediately. Not power, not exactly. Density. His movements felt more deliberate, his balance steadier. He checked his status next, fingers moving through the interface with growing familiarity. He allocated the points without ceremony. Four into Vitality, three into Agility, three into Strength.
[PLAYER STATUS]
NAME: Dorian Black
CLASS: Rogue
LEVEL: 3
TITLE: Slayer
AFFLICTIONS: Primordial Shadow Contamination (Active)
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ATTRIBUTES
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Strength: 13
Agility: 13
Vitality: 14
Intelligence: 5
Wisdom: 5
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DERIVED STATS
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Health: Increased
Stamina: Increased
Critical Rate: Enhanced (Agility Scaling)
Evasion: Enhanced
Magic Resistance: Active (Item Bonus)
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EQUIPMENT
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Head: —
Chest: —
Cloak: Alpha Wolf Hide (Equipped)
Weapon: Dagger (Starter)
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EQUIPPED ITEM DETAILS
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Alpha Wolf Hide
+5 Strength
+5 Agility
Effect: Magic Resistance
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SKILLS
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[Passive]
Rogue Instincts (Basic)
[Active]
— (None Unlocked)
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QUESTS
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SURVIVE THE GAUNTLET
Wave: 1 of 30
CURE THE CURSE
Time Remaining: 29 Days, 11 Hours
Failure Condition: Host Termination
-----------------------------
SYSTEM NOTE
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[NOTICE]
HOST VITALITY STABILIZING
CONTAMINATION TEMPORARILY SUPPRESSED
When he confirmed, the sharp edge of his pain dulled. Not gone, but muted, like a blade pressed against cloth instead of skin. He glanced down at his shoulder. The dark veins crawling away from the bite had retreated slightly, pulling back toward the wound as if reconsidering their advance. Helena noticed. "It looks better."
"Feels better," he said. "For now." She hesitated, then asked, "What should I do with mine?" Dorian didn't need to think. He saw numbers and paths the way other people saw colors. "Intelligence and Wisdom first," he said. "Then Vitality. You can't cast if you're dead." She nodded immediately and followed his advice without question. A moment later she let out a breath she didn't realize she had been holding. "My Dark Curse leveled up," she said. "It feels… heavier. Like it wants more." He met her eyes. "You did what you had to."
"I almost killed you," she whispered. "You didn't," he said, firmly. "You saved me." She stepped closer and kissed him, deep and unsteady, her hands still trembling as they pressed against his back. When she pulled away, she laughed weakly, wiping at her eyes. "You were kind of a badass," she said. "With the dagger." He smiled despite himself. They looked back toward the courtyard. At least a dozen people lay dead. Maybe more. Some bodies were incomplete. Limbs torn free, blood smeared across stone and walls in wide arcs. Survivors clustered in small groups, some arguing, some praying, some staring at the sky like it might answer them. Dorian scanned the crowd once, instinctively, looking for the lacrosse jersey. He wasn't there. "Dor," Helena said softly. "Someone's yelling." He heard it then. A voice, hoarse and cracking, cutting through the murmurs.
"Is there a healer?" the man shouted. "Please. Someone has to be a healer." The voice broke on the last word. Dorian and Helena followed the sound toward one of the side buildings, where a small knot of people had gathered near the entrance. The smell hit them first. Fresh blood, sharp and overwhelming. A young man knelt on the ground, hands red up to the wrists, pressing them uselessly against his sister's shoulder. Her arm was gone. Not mangled. Not hanging by threads. Gone cleanly, torn away at the joint. Someone had tried to slow the bleeding with torn shirts and belts. It hadn't been enough. "She's going to die," the man sobbed. "Lena, please. Stay with me. Please."
His name came from someone else nearby. "Evan." The woman standing over them was shaking. She held her hands out, palms glowing faintly with soft white light that flickered and sputtered like a candle in wind. "I tried," she said, voice barely audible. "I healed what I could. The scratches, the cuts. I can't… I can't regrow it." Her name, Dorian learned as someone whispered it, was Maria. A Sentinel. Lena's breathing was shallow now. Her eyes fluttered, unfocused. Shock had dulled the pain, but it was stealing everything else with it.
Dorian felt something cold twist in his chest. He saw a locked door.
A staircase. A room no one came back from. He didn't say anything. He opened his bag and took out the red glass vial. Helena saw it instantly. Her eyes widened. She looked at him, then at the girl bleeding out on the floor. She didn't stop him. Dorian stepped forward and held the vial out to Maria. "Give her this," he said. Maria stared at it like it might explode. "I don't know if I should. I don't know what it'll do."
"Now," Dorian said. His voice didn't rise, but it carried weight. "Or she dies." Maria's hands shook as she took the vial. She pulled the stopper and poured the liquid into Lena's mouth. The effect was immediate. Lena arched off the ground, screaming as flesh began to knit and crawl. Bone pushed outward, reshaping itself with wet, grinding sounds. Muscle followed, then skin, pale and trembling as it formed a new arm where nothing had been. It wasn't clean. It wasn't pretty. It was real. Lena collapsed back onto the stone, gasping, alive.
Evan broke. He sobbed openly, pressing his face into his sister's shoulder, laughing and crying at the same time. Maria sank to her knees, staring at her hands like they belonged to someone else. No System message appeared. No reward. No announcement. Just a girl breathing. Helena stood beside Dorian, her fingers lacing through his. "I'm proud of you," she whispered. He nodded once, unable to speak. Around them, the courtyard exhaled. And somewhere above it all, the timer continued to count down. They moved Lena into the medical wing once her breathing steadied.
The doors opened without resistance, the lock clicking free as if it had never been engaged. Inside, emergency lights hummed weakly, bathing the halls in a sickly amber glow. The smell changed from iron and blood to antiseptic and dust, a familiar scent that felt almost obscene after what the courtyard had become. Evan carried his sister at first, then stopped when his arms began to shake too badly. Dorian took over without comment, lifting her carefully, mindful of the newly grown arm that twitched against her side like it hadn't decided yet whether it belonged. She was light. Too light.
Maria guided them to a classroom converted into a practice lab, tables shoved aside, mats stacked against one wall. They laid Lena down gently. For a while, no one spoke. Lena's chest rose and fell. Her face had color again, not much, but enough. Evan sat on the floor beside her, back against the wall, eyes never leaving her face. When he finally looked up, his expression crumpled. "Thank you," he said, voice breaking. "I don't know how to say it. I thought she was gone." Dorian nodded. "She wasn't." Evan swallowed hard. "I'm Evan. That's my sister. Lena."
Lena's eyes fluttered open at the sound of her name. She blinked a few times, confused, then focused on the unfamiliar ceiling. Her gaze drifted to her shoulder. She lifted her arm slowly, staring at it like it belonged to someone else. "It hurts," she said faintly. "But you can feel it," Evan said, a laugh tearing its way out of him. "You're alive."
She looked at Dorian and Helena then, recognition dawning slowly. "You saved me," she said. Not dramatic. Just a statement of fact. "Both of you." Helena smiled gently. "You're going to be okay." Maria hovered nearby, hands clenched together. "I'm sorry," she said suddenly. "I tried. I really did. I just… I don't have enough yet." Lena shook her head weakly. "You stayed. That mattered." Maria let out a shaky breath and nodded, wiping her face with her sleeve. They stayed there for a while, letting the adrenaline drain. Outside, the campus was eerily quiet.
No howls. No screams. Just the distant wind moving through trees and the faint ticking of the System timer somewhere no one could see. Later, when Lena drifted back to sleep and Evan finally looked like he might stop shaking, Helena tugged gently at Dorian's sleeve. "Come with me," she whispered. They stepped into the hallway, the door swinging closed behind them with a soft click. For a moment, they just stood there, listening to the hum of the lights. Helena broke the silence first. "You didn't even hesitate." He shrugged. "I didn't think about it."She studied his face, then nodded once.
"I'm proud of you." The words landed heavier than any System message. She leaned in and kissed him, slow and grounding, her hands steady now where they rested against his chest. When they pulled apart, she rested her forehead against his. "We'll figure the rest out," she said. "Yeah," he agreed quietly. "We will." When they returned to the room, Evan was talking again, calmer now, as if the fear had finally found somewhere to settle. "I picked Striker," he said, almost apologetically. "I panicked. I just wanted to hit things before they hit us."
"That's not a bad instinct," Dorian said. Lena stirred. "I chose Arcanist," she added. "Fire. It just felt right." Helena nodded. "I'm a Hexbinder." Maria hesitated, then spoke. "Sentinel. Healing and support. At least… that's what it said." The pieces fit together without anyone needing to say it. "We should stay together," Evan said after a moment. "At least for now. There's strength in numbers." Dorian glanced at Helena. She nodded. "Alright," he said. A faint pulse rippled through the air, subtle enough that it might have been imagined. Dorian felt something settle, a quiet alignment, as if the System had acknowledged the decision without bothering to announce it. They took stock of what they had. Bandages from the kit. Some water bottles scavenged from nearby classrooms.
Helena still had the blue glass vial tucked safely in her bag, the mana elixir catching the light when she checked it. No food plan yet. No real shelter. Just walls and time. Dorian noticed again who wasn't there. The guy in the lacrosse jersey. The one who had shoved the girl. He scanned the hallway, the adjoining rooms, the corners where shadows pooled. Nothing. "He didn't make it," Evan said quietly, following Dorian's gaze. "Maybe," Dorian replied. He didn't sound convinced.
They barricaded the door lightly with a table and took turns resting. Maria insisted on staying awake first, sitting upright with her wand resting across her knees. Helena leaned against Dorian, exhaustion finally catching up to her. Lena slept. Evan watched her breathe. Dorian sat with his back to the wall, eyes half-lidded, listening. The pain in his shoulder throbbed dully, manageable now, but when he shifted, he felt the darkness stir beneath his skin, patient and present. The veins had retreated, but they hadn't vanished. They waited.
He didn't tell anyone. Outside, the night stretched on. The System timer continued its slow, indifferent countdown. And somewhere beyond the campus, the forest rustled, as if something out there was learning.