Death: Genesis

Zeke awoke lying in the center of a small cave, though when he sat up, he could feel a healthy breeze emanating from a narrow crack in the nearby wall. His eyes opened wide as he strained to see his surroundings, but only the barest outline was visible. Still, with the scant light, even that much was something of a surprise. It was pitch black inside the cave, so he could only assume that in this new world, he had better night vision than he ever had before.

Slowly, he rolled over to all fours, then pushed himself to his knees. Once, when he was younger, he and a few of his friends had found a low-voltage electric fence. And because kids are stupid, they’d each taken a turn trying to grab it. When it was Zeke’s turn, he’d hesitantly followed in his friends’ footsteps, receiving a shock to his system. Back then, it had been like every muscle in his body had contracted, all at once. But that wasn’t the worst of it, especially considering that it had faded almost as soon as he’d let go of the fence. Instead, the worst part was that, for a couple of hours afterwards, it had felt like every cell in his body was agitated and vibrating. A similar sensation coursed through his body as he sat in that lonely cave, trying to make sense of what had just happened.

His first thought was that it wasn’t real. How could it be? Not only had he cast the role of Oberon with a familiar actor, but the entire set-up seemed like the beginning of one of his video games. His rational mind told him that he was probably still asleep on some operating table, and everything was just some anesthesia-induced dream.

But something inside of him said otherwise.

Perhaps it was his soul. Or maybe his instincts were better equipped to make heads or tails of the situation. Or maybe he was just adept at pushing denial aside. Whatever the case, he knew in his heart of hearts that everything Oberon had said was absolutely, unavoidably true. And that scared him to death.

For a few minutes, Zeke just knelt on that uneven ground, the sharp rocks digging into his knees as panic threatened to overtake him. His heartbeat quickened. His breathing became ragged and shallow. And he found himself on the verge of simply giving in to the overwhelming terror threatening to splinter his sanity.

He had actually died, and a long, long time ago, too. Oberon had made it sound like it had been eons since he’d died on that operating table. Even in his panicked state, he couldn’t help but wonder how everyone had reacted to that. His brother. His mother. His so-called friends. Had they mourned? Surely, his family had. But he suspected that his friends’ grief had only lasted as long as it took to make a post on social media.

It was a sobering thought, but he’d long known that his friends were really more acquaintances than anything else. They were shallow relationships of convenience, and little else. None of them would’ve shed a tear for him.

Zeke wasn’t certain how long he knelt in the center of the cave. Hours? Minutes? A day? It could’ve been an eternity, for all he knew. However, he slowly pushed through the panic-tinged melancholy to the point where he found himself taking stock of his situation. He might’ve died, sure. But that didn’t mean he had nothing to live for. According to Oberon, there was a whole world out there. Maybe he could even find his brother. More, he resolved to do things better than he had in his first life.

Short as it was, he’d accomplished very little. No friends. No partner. No impact. It was easy to blame his injury, and it had certainly derailed his plans. But it all came down to one, simple fact: he’d let himself down. He wouldn’t let that happen again. So, with a renewed sense of vigor and purpose, he pushed himself to his feet, thoughts of triumph and heroism in his mind as well as his stance.

It made him a perfect target.

A ball of sharp, burning agony erupted in his back, sending him flying across the small cave. He collided with the rocky wall, his breath exploding out of his body in a sharp exhale. He let out a breathless scream that echoed off the walls as he felt like his every bone was broken, all at once. But that was nothing compared to the pain in his back. It was unlike anything he’d ever felt before, and the shock nearly sent him cascading into unconsciousness. However, a sixth sense born of a natural survival instinct told him that if he succumbed, he wouldn’t survive another minute. And he knew that if that came to pass, he wouldn’t be reborn into some white room talking about classes and stats. If he died again, that would be the end. So, he clung to that thin thread of instinct, hoping that it would be enough to keep his wits.

It worked, and a second later, he found himself rolling to the side. The ruined mess of his back screamed at him, but he forcibly shut out the pain. It was just pain, after all. And if his life had taught him anything, it was how to push through something like that. He scrambled to his feet, simultaneously turning so he could see his attacker. And what he saw was, in a word, shocking.

His night vision didn’t provide the best view, but it was clear enough that he immediately knew he wasn’t facing an earthly creature. The closest thing Zeke could compare the animal to was a rodent, but instead of fur, it was covered in scales. I seemed like an unholy mixture of crocodile, badger, and rat, with gleaming, bloody claws and a mouthful of what used to be Zeke’s unblemished back. All in all, the thing was around three feet long, from snout to the end of its thick, crocodilian tail. And it was frighteningly quick, which Zeke discovered only a moment later, when the low-slung monster launched itself at him.

However, Zeke’s next discovery was even more shocking.

He knew the croco-rat was fast. Probably too fast, at least by his old standards. But in a way, it seemed like it was moving in slow motion. It was as if his own perception had been sped up. Immediately, his mind went back to his stats. If his suspicions about the human baseline were true, he was already operating on a borderline superhuman level. Or perhaps peak human, like Captain America.

Just as he was about to dodge away, a spark of inspiration took hold in Zeke’s mind. In an instant, a sinister red cloud erupted from his clenched fists. Instinctively, he knew this was his chosen skill, [Leech Strike], which was supposed to somehow transfer vitality from his enemy to him. However, he had absolutely zero notion of how to actually use the thing. Nor did he have much time to think it through, because despite his enhanced speed and perception, the vicious croco-rat was bearing down on him. And if it got those jaws around him, no enhanced stats were likely to save him.

So, when the creature was only a scant foot away, Zeke struck. Years of spending every waking moment hitting baseballs had given him impeccable hand-eye coordination, and that had only been enhanced by his new stat allocation. The result was that when Zeke sidestepped, simultaneously swinging his fist at the thing, he struck true, unleashing the sort of power Earth had rarely seen. Even professional fighters would’ve been hard-pressed to match the force of that simple, frantic punch.

What’s more, the moment it connected, it felt like a piece of Zeke’s soul shot out, plunging deep into the croco-rat’s head, snatching at something Zeke could neither perceive nor see. But when it retracted, the red cloud around his fist flashed a deep green that radiated vitality, which then flowed up his arm only to disappear the moment it reached his torso.

Not that he noticed it, of course. He was too busy watching the croco-rat sail through the air to collide with the other side of the cave wall. It let out a yelp of pain as rock and gravel, shaken loose by the impact, cascaded down the uneven wall.

Zeke stared in shock, trying to understand what had just happened. For a long moment, the croco-rat lay still, but Zeke knew it wasn’t dead. His instincts proved right once again as the monstrous creature slowly rose onto its stubby legs, shook itself, then fixed its gaze on Zeke. He felt it, then, like the hairs on the back of his neck were suddenly standing straight up. This thing intended to kill him. Not in the way a wild animal wants to kill its prey. No – this was something more sinister. This was a creature who wanted to murder for murder’s sake. And it had its sights set on Zeke.

“Alright, then,” Zeke muttered, adopting a fighting posture. It felt a little silly, because he’d only ever been in a few fights in all his life, and even those had been during his adolescent years. But this was kill-or-be-killed, and he’d quickly adapted his mindset for survival.

Zeke had already died once today, and he had no intention of repeating the experience.

The croco-rat seemed to have learned its lesson as well, and instead of mindlessly barreling at him, it was content to repeatedly dart forward, testing his defenses. Zeke dodged as best he could, but even his enhanced perception wouldn’t let him escape unscathed. Soon, a multitude of scratches and bloody bites decorated his entire body, ripping his meager clothing to shreds. He’d awoken wearing a thin, white tunic and matching, linen pants, but they were clearly not much use at stopping the croco-rat’s sharp claws.

However, Zeke had also given almost as good as he’d gotten. Each time the creature drew close, his fists arced out, and more often than not, his blows connected. He’d yet to repeat the power of his first strike, but each of his punches landed with a meaty thump. More than that, though, every time he made forcible contact, he stole a little of the monster’s life force.

Or vitality.

Maybe even some of its soul.

Zeke really had no idea what, precisely, he was doing. But one thing he did know was that each surge of energy that flowed up his arm had, bit by bit, eased the pain in his back. No single influx of energy was lifesaving, but it had built up to the point where he was almost certain that the wounds had mostly closed, which was miraculous in and of itself. Add the fact that the croco-rat was weakened by each subsequent strike, and Zeke felt confident that he could outlast the monster, even despite his obvious deficiencies in the realm of combat.

The croco-rat seemed to understand this as well, because it soon redoubled its offensive. It seemed like it was trying to rip through Zeke with nothing but ferocity. And in its haste to dispatch the annoying young man who’d invaded its territory, it started making mistakes. Zeke was there to pounce on each and every one, and soon, his fists thundered into the creature over and over, until he’d finally overwhelmed its defenses.

Sensing weakness, Zeke didn’t hesitate. By this point, he was running on sheer survival instinct, and there was no room for doubt in his mind. So, when he saw the croco-rat struggling to rise after a particularly vicious blow sent it careening to the other side of the cave, he leapt atop it. His fists rose and fell like pistons, hammering into the creature until he felt its very skull crack. But he didn’t stop there. He couldn’t. So, even after the monster had clearly died, Zeke continued to pound the thing’s head into a bloody, messy pulp. He might’ve gone even longer, but his fury was interrupted by an influx of pure energy.

It entered his body through his pores, but it soon traced a series of pathways through his body. In his mind’s eye, Zeke couldn’t help but be reminded of a glowing stick figure, the sort a kindergartner might draw. In an instant, the energy found its way to a point just above his navel, where it accumulated into a dense ball.

“W-what the hell…”

However, before Zeke got an answer, he heard a scuttling sound from across the cave. He looked up to see a gaping crevasse in the wall on the other side of the cave, from which emerged a trio of croco-rats. For a moment, his shoulders slumped in exhaustion, and he found himself wondering how he could possibly go on. A fight with one of the monsters had driven him to his limit. What was he supposed to do against three of them?

But then again, what choice did he have?

Just as he rose wearily to his feet, a screen flashed in front of Zeke’s eyes. Instinctively, he knew it wouldn’t be visible to anyone else. But more, the text it displayed gave him some hope.

New Quest Acquired!

Objective: Escape the Caracoan Nest

Reward: Wilderness Survival Kit (H-Grade)

Zeke had no idea what might be contained in something called a Wilderness Survival Kit, but he felt certain that it wouldn’t be the sort he might’ve bought at a sporting goods store back home. Nor did he have any notion of what the grading system was. If it was the entire alphabet, H-Grade might imply something of mediocre quality. However, he had a sneaking suspicion that whatever he gained so soon would be the poorest quality out there. Still, he was in no position to refuse any sort of help. And besides, it wasn’t like he wanted to remain within the cave for the rest of his life. Escaping was already on the docket.

Either way, the quest had given him a burst of energy as well as a sense of purpose. He felt like he’d already taken the first step. This was just the next in what he hoped would be a long line. So, without further hesitation, Zeke mentally dismissed the quest screen and launched himself at the croco-rats. Or caracoa, as the quest implied. Whatever the case, the creatures were standing between him and his very survival.

And, miraculously, his first punch connected. So did his second, and both stubby-legged creatures were sent careening into opposite walls. However, the reality of his lacking combat experience soon reasserted itself, and he felt the third monster latch onto his leg with what felt like enough pressure to snap his shin in two.

He howled in pain, and his panicked fists rained down on the beast’s head with unrivaled fury. Every blow was like a sledgehammer, and it wasn’t long before the croco-rat was dislodged from his shin, taking a significant chunk of Zeke’s calf with it. He almost fell, then and there. But with the adrenaline pumping through his veins, he managed to keep his mind clear enough to finish the caracoa off, leaving its brains splattered on the rocky ground.

Zeke didn’t get much of a reprieve, though, because in a matter of seconds, the other two croco-rats were upon him. The next few minutes were something of a blur for Zeke. He punched. He kicked. He grappled. He even bit. And each time he made contact with one of the creatures, a surge of vitality crashed against his accumulated wounds. Still, he was a mess of blood and viscera by the time he finally managed to kill the last caracoa.

Zeke didn’t even have time to take stock of his many, many wounds before darkness started to overtake him. Just before he collapsed, though, a very exciting message flashed before his eyes.

Congratulations! You have reached level two!