Chapter 3 – The Partial Manifestation (Fully Immersive)
Shadows no longer clung to surfaces; they stretched, twisted, and moved with a life of their own. Blake's eyes traced their movements, every flicker cataloged. The faint distortion in the broken walls and warped floor panels told him more than any observer's data could: the Legendary Beast was partially manifest. Not fully, but enough to make the ruins unpredictable, dangerous, alive.
A micro-flashback surfaced—his first encounter with an anomalous entity, years before, in a place long forgotten. He remembered how shadows had moved like fingers, how instinct had guided him to survive. That memory was a tool now, a blueprint for dealing with the unpredictable.
Movement doctrine in practice: every step precise, every motion minimal yet effective. He slid under a collapsing beam, pivoted past jagged steel, and navigated glass shards that glittered like frozen fire. Each micro-adjustment calculated: speed, pressure, distance, timing.
Temporary enemies appeared in the distance, drawn by the faint hum of anomaly energy. Observation first. Wait. Adapt. He ducked behind a fractured column, letting them pass, unnoticed. The shadows reacted as if aware, stretching and curling around him, teasing but not touching.
Weapon vibrated sharply, dry commentary: "Unexpected interference. Likelihood of success: minimal." Blake smirked, ignoring the jest. Observers muttered across channels: "Predictive models failing. Repeat: failure imminent." Their panic was irrelevant. They had never tracked him accurately.
The environment became more unstable. Minor tremors rattled the steel, faint drafts swept through the corridor, dislodging debris and scattering dust. Consumable levels indicated slight dehydration; minor fatigue tugged at reflexes. Blake adjusted instantly, micro-calculating energy expenditure.
A shadow passed through a shattered wall, leaving a faint distortion in the air. He noted it, cataloged it, but made no move. Direct engagement was unnecessary. Survival first, observation second, patience always.
The corridor's twisted geometry seemed alive, reacting subtly to his movements. The Beast's influence was indirect yet undeniable. Blake's mind mapped every potential hazard, every opportunity for concealment, every path that might save or end him.
"The shadows reached, stretched, but could not touch him. Not yet."