“Don’t go! Don’t leave me!”


    Eve bolted upright, her breath ragged and shallow, a sob catching in her throat. Her chest heaved, the phantom ache of something—someone—being ripped away still lingering in the hollow space behind her ribs. Tears streamed down her face, hot and unrelenting, as her wide, frantic eyes darted around her dimly lit room.


    Her pulse pounded in her ears, deafening in the heavy silence that followed her own desperate cry.


    Without thinking, she stumbled out of bed, her bare feet hitting the cool floor as she rushed toward the door. Her trembling hand gripped the handle—but then, she froze.


    Who… who am I chasing?


    Her breath hitched, confusion clouding her mind. She swallowed hard, her lips trembling.


    “…Ethan?”


    The name slipped out before she could stop it. But it didn’t make sense.


    Ethan? But we’re not that close… are we?


    She clutched at her chest, where the ache refused to fade. It felt like something had been torn away—something precious, something vital. Her body remembered the loss even if her mind couldn’t name it.


    “I don’t understand…” Her voice broke, barely a whisper now. “Why does it feel like… something important is gone?”


    The silence offered no answer.


    She sank to her knees by the door, her fingers curling tightly against her chest. Tears dripped onto the floor, unstoppable, endless.


    No matter how much she tried, she couldn’t stop crying.


    And she didn’t know why.


    <hr>


    In the endless expanse of the void, a small, transparent orb of light glided through the darkness.


    Ethan, can you hear me? Orin’s voice echoed gently within the quiet vastness.


    We’ll arrive at Veyndral shortly.


    The orb flickered softly as Orin continued.


    Once we arrive, I’ll use what little power I have left to bring you to a hidden, isolated location. There, your physical body will be formed, inheriting the abilities I’ve granted you.


    A pause.


    It will take time, Orin admitted. You’ll be placed in a deep slumber as the energy around us gathers to shape your new vessel.


    The light dimmed for a moment, as if weighted by the task ahead.


    When you wake up, I’ll be drained. Too weak to speak or guide you. But when you’ve grown strong enough… when you’ve gained more control over life energy—


    His voice softened, almost a whisper now.


    Please, Ethan… use some of that strength to awaken this fragment of me. Let me guide you again.


    The orb pressed forward, undeterred by the endless dark.


    Until then… survive.


    <hr>


    A sharp gasp tore from Ethan’s throat as he broke free from the cocoon-like shell encasing him. His hands pressed against the rough surface, feeling the brittle fragments crumble away. His chest heaved, lungs dragging in unfamiliar air—dense, thick, almost tangible.


    Is this… energy?


    His mind raced as he inhaled again, the weight of the air pressing down on him. Was this what he was meant to absorb? What he needed to grow stronger?


    Where… am I?


    Ethan stumbled forward, steadying himself against the rocky wall. He pushed through a narrow opening and emerged into a vast cavern. Jagged rock formations jutted from the ground and ceiling, shadows twisting across the walls. The space was eerily quiet, save for the faint echo of dripping water.


    Then it hit him.


    A sudden rush of information flooded his mind, relentless and unfiltered.


    Moss clinging to the rocks—its lifespan flickered in his vision.


    Tiny insects skittering across the ground—their fragile life energy counted down like a clock.


    Creatures high above, barely visible, clinging to the ceiling—ages, remaining life spans, total life energy.


    All of it. At once.


    Ethan staggered, clutching his head, overwhelmed by the sheer volume of information. He forced himself to focus, narrowing his gaze to a single flickering light—the life force of a small insect. Its age. Its energy. Its fragile existence.


    I can see it all…


    Ethan took a shaky breath, forcing himself to focus as the wave of information gradually dulled to a hum in the back of his mind. His heart still pounded, but curiosity pushed him forward. Step by step, he began to explore the cavern, its vastness swallowing him whole.


    “Orin?” he called out softly, the sound echoing against the jagged walls. Silence answered him.


    He frowned, trying again. “Orin… are you there?”


    Nothing.


    A pit formed in his stomach. I’m on my own for now. Orin had warned him—he would need time to recover. But that didn’t make the emptiness any easier to bear.


    Ethan sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Okay… so how do I get stronger?”If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    The thick air pressed against his skin, a constant reminder of the energy around him. He inhaled deeply, almost instinctively, trying to draw it in.


    Nothing changed.


    “Great,” he muttered. “Swallowing air isn’t the answer. Good job, me.”


    A faint rustling drew his attention upward. High above, a bat-like creature swooped down, its leathery wings barely making a sound. It snatched a small insect from the cavern floor and devoured it in one swift motion.


    Ethan’s vision flickered.


    The bat’s life energy… it just increased. Not by much, but… it’s there.


    His eyes widened as realization settled in.


    Consuming another organism’s life force… strengthens your own.


    It wasn’t just the air. It wasn’t about simply existing in this new world. Growth required more than that.


    A chill ran down his spine.


    Is this what I have to do to survive?


    Ethan paced through the cavern, eyes flicking between the moss-covered walls and the faint shadows of creatures skittering in the distance.


    “Alright, so… eat to get stronger? Seems simple enough.” He grimaced.


    His stomach grumbled, empty and protesting. With a reluctant sigh, he knelt down and scraped some moss off a nearby rock.


    “This is stupid,” he muttered, eyeing the green clump with distaste.


    Taking a hesitant bite, Ethan chewed slowly, hoping for some miraculous surge of power. Seconds passed. Nothing. No change, no newfound strength. Just the bitter, earthy taste of disappointment.


    “Figures.” He wiped his mouth on his sleeve, groaning.


    Then, movement caught his eye. A pale, wriggling larva, nestled between the rocks. Ethan’s lips curled in disgust.


    “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”


    His stomach growled again.


    “Fine. Fine!” He reached down, grabbing the squirming thing and swallowing it quickly before he could reconsider.


    He sat still, waiting. A faint warmth stirred in his core. Was that energy? Or just relief from putting something—anything—in his stomach?


    He frowned.


    “I need something more. Something that actually works.”


    Determined, Ethan pushed forward into the cavern, eyes sharp and searching. There had to be something here that could give him a real edge.


    Ethan eyed the moss clinging to the cavern walls. It looked damp and stringy, with an earthy, almost metallic smell that made his nose wrinkle. This is ridiculous, he thought. I’m really about to eat moss? But hunger gnawed at him, and desperation left him little choice.


    With a grimace, he plucked a handful and shoved it into his mouth.


    The texture was worse than he imagined—wet, gritty, and bitter. He gagged, forcing himself to swallow. Silence followed. He focused inward, waiting for something—anything—to change.


    Nothing.


    “Great,” he muttered, wiping his mouth. “Guess being an idiot doesn’t come with perks.”


    Then his eyes landed on a wriggling larvae near the wall. His stomach turned. No way. But the memory of the bat-like creature gaining energy after a meal pushed him forward.


    “Please don’t taste worse than the moss,” he whispered, grabbing the squirming worm and hesitantly biting down.


    A faint crunch, a burst of bitter fluid, and a wave of nausea hit him. But… something else flickered at the edge of his awareness. Faint, almost imaginary—but there.


    “Was that… energy? Or just my stomach not hating me for once?” He shook his head. It wasn’t enough. He needed more. Something substantial.


    There has to be something better, he thought, determination tightening his jaw. He glanced deeper into the cavern. The unknown stretched before him, dark and dangerous.


    “Guess I’m exploring,” Ethan muttered, taking a cautious step forward. “Let’s hope the next thing I eat doesn’t kill me first.”


    Ethan pressed forward, deeper into the cavern’s winding paths. Every step echoed softly against the jagged walls. He had no idea where he was headed—only that standing still wasn’t an option. What am I even looking for? Food? A way out? Or maybe… a sign that this wasn’t all some cruel joke.


    The cave stretched endlessly, twisting in directions he couldn’t track. Stalactites loomed overhead, and distant drops of water plinked into unseen pools. Ethan’s breath was shallow, his eyes darting from shadow to shadow. There’s gotta be something here… but what?


    Suddenly, a scuffling sound echoed behind him. His heart jolted. He spun around, but nothing was there.


    Then—


    A blur shot from the darkness.


    Ethan barely leapt aside as a small figure rushed past him, kicking up dust. It skidded to a halt, turning with sharp, beady eyes locked onto him. Ethan blinked.


    “A… boar?” he whispered.


    It was no larger than a rabbit, with coarse black fur, stubby legs, and tiny tusks protruding from its mouth. “Okay… kinda cute,” he muttered, tension easing slightly.


    But then it charged again.


    Wait, what is it—?


    CRACK!


    The boar struck a rock, sending it flying across the cavern like a bullet. It smashed into the far wall with a deafening thud, leaving a spiderweb crack in the stone.


    Ethan’s stomach dropped.


    “Holy shit… that thing can kill me!”


    The boar pawed at the ground, snorting furiously. Ethan stumbled back, heart hammering. I’m not ready for this!


    “Okay, okay, uh—chill, little guy! We can just… talk this out, right?” he stammered, raising his hands as if to calm it.


    It charged again.


    “Guess not!”


    Ethan barely dodged as it barreled past him, its tusks grazing the edge of his pants. He stumbled, gasping for air. There’s no way out. No escape. I have to face it…


    The boar turned sharply, eyes glinting with primal rage. Ethan swallowed hard.


    “Fine. You wanna do this? Let’s do this.”


    The boar rushed him again. Ethan dove to the side, narrowly missing another bone-crushing impact. His mind raced. Think, dammit! It’s small but strong. If it hits me, I’m dead. I need an opening.


    He grabbed a loose rock and hurled it at the creature. It barely flinched.


    “Of course,” Ethan muttered. “Because why would that work?”


    The boar snorted, charging again. Ethan waited, panic clawing at him, then sidestepped at the last second. The boar collided with the cave wall, dazed for a moment.


    Now!


    Ethan lunged, grabbing it from behind in a desperate grapple. It thrashed wildly, almost throwing him off.


    “Holy crap—stop moving!” Ethan grunted, struggling to hold on. The boar’s strength was absurd for its size. It bucked, slamming him into the wall. Pain shot through his side.


    “I am… not dying… to a tiny boar!” Ethan hissed through clenched teeth.


    The boar bucked again. Ethan lost his grip, stumbling back. It snorted angrily, pawing the ground once more.


    Ethan panted, sweat dripping down his face. This thing’s relentless. He glanced around, searching for anything to use.


    The boar charged, and Ethan ran.


    “Shitshitshitshit—”


    He barely dodged another charge, pressing his back against the cave wall. His eyes darted around. No weapon, no way out. I’m screwed.


    Then he noticed a narrow gap in the rocks above. If he could lure it to charge into the wall again…


    The boar snorted, preparing another rush.


    Ethan gulped. “Okay, buddy. One last dance.”


    As it charged, Ethan sprinted toward the wall, leaping aside at the final moment. The boar slammed headfirst into the rock, and the impact sent loose stones tumbling from above.


    A large chunk fell, pinning the creature’s back leg.


    It squealed in fury, thrashing to free itself.


    Ethan didn’t hesitate. He lunged, wrapping his arms around its neck, straining with every ounce of strength he had left.


    The boar kicked and squirmed, but Ethan held on, gasping through the struggle.


    “I’m… not… dying here!”


    With one final twist, the boar went limp.


    Ethan collapsed beside it, chest heaving, hands trembling. His whole body screamed in pain.


    Ethan collapsed beside the boar, chest heaving, hands trembling. His whole body screamed in pain.


    Then—it happened.


    A faint shimmer, barely visible, rose from the boar’s lifeless body. Wisps of light, subtle and weightless, drifted toward him like smoke drawn to a flame.


    Ethan froze, eyes widening as the energy seeped into him.


    Warmth spread through his veins. The ache in his muscles dulled slightly, and his breathing steadied. It wasn’t just relief—it was something more.


    Am I… stronger?


    He clenched his fists. There was a difference—something deeper. More endurance, more clarity, a spark of strength that hadn’t been there moments ago.


    His mind raced back to the games he used to play back on Earth. This feels just like… leveling up.


    You defeat something, you gain experience. Or in this case… energy.


    Ethan swallowed hard, realization sinking in.


    “This… this is how I survive here.”