<h2>Chapter 4: Hunted</h2>


    The ground still trembled beneath Kyle''s back, the shockwave rippling through the massive tree''s roots. Dex jolted upright.


    "The fuck was that?" Dex said, already on his feet, spear clutched tight.


    Marcus scrambled up beside him, bandana askew. "Felt like a damn earthquake."


    Kyle remained seated against the tree trunk, mind whirling. The Comet that had plummeted from the sky—a gleaming, unyielding intrusion in the jungle''s chaos—burned behind his eyes. The Tower that formed afterwards, or was it always there. Its light still flickers in the distance.


    "That wasn’t no earthquake," Kyle said, voice low. "Something crashed. And next to it a tower"


    "Tower?" Marcus''s eyebrows knotted. "What tower?"


    "Y''all don''t see that?" Kyle tapped his head. "New quest."


    Dex and Marcus went still, eyes unfocused, looking inward. Their expressions shifted in unison—confusion, then recognition.


    "I see it now," Dex muttered. "Tower quest."


    Kyle dug into his back pocket, retrieving the folded map he''d taken from the blue woman''s corpse. The material crackled between his fingers, stiff yet yielding.


    "Maybe this can tell us something," he said, unfolding it carefully.


    The massive Moon light lit like a lamp in the dark, made it just bright enough to see the strange symbols covering the surface that should have been incomprehensible. Yet as Kyle stared, the markings rearranged themselves—not physically, but in his perception. What had been gibberish moments before now formed clear meanings, like switching from a foreign language channel to English.


    "Holy shit," he breathed, tracing a finger along a winding line. "I can read this."


    Dex snatched the map, eyes widening. "Fuck, me too. It''s like... like the words just make sense now."


    [New Skill acquired: Universal Language]


    "Universal Language," Marcus read from nowhere, eyes distant. "We got a new skill, fam."


    "This place keeps fuckin with our heads," Dex muttered, “but whats good is a map if we don’t know where the fuck we are” Dex said.


    Kyle  traced the map’s edges, fingers tingling like they’d brushed a live wire, and then suddenly blue light leaked from his skin, pouring into the paper like blood seeping through a napkin.


    "Fuck!" Kyle dropped it, scrambling backward. His heart hammered against his ribs. "Did y''all see that?" Dex and Marcus stared, wide-eyed, at the now-normal map lying in the dirt.


    "The hell was that?" Dex said, keeping his distance. Kyle swallowed hard. Hesitated. Then reached for the map again.


    This time, the glow returned stronger—bright white-blue light seeping from his fingertips into the parchment-like material, spreading through invisible channels within its structure. The sensation wasn''t pain, wasn''t pleasure—something between electricity and warm water flowing through his veins into the object.


    “I think,” he started, voice shaky, watching symbols flare across the surface, “I gotta juice it up or something.” Dex looked at him skeptically, but Marcus just nodded.


    He focused. His awareness reached for that number floating in his consciousness: 12/12 energy. Without understanding how, he directed a thread of it down his arm, through his fingertips, into the bizarre material. Symbols brightened, landscapes shifted, details multiplied like fractals under a microscope. The view zoomed to their current location—A blue arrow blinked to life in the center, spinning as he turned, pointing wherever he faced—a cosmic middle finger telling him he was lost but found.


    "What the actual fuck," Dex whispered, crouching beside Kyle. Not touching the map, but close enough to study it.


    Marcus shook his head, jaw slack. “That’s wild, son.” They huddled tight, shoulders brushing, studying the glowing blueprint. Kyle traced their spot in the forest, then a blue swirl with black lines snaking down—water, has to be, his dry tongue screamed for it.


    "Look at these," Marcus said, pointing to clusters of symbols near settlements. "Warnings?"


    Dex nodded. "And those symbols there—looks like another settlement."


    Kyle''s eyes fixed on a particular settlement marked with a feline symbol. His throat constricted, memory flashing white-hot behind his eyes. "You see that? Looks like Left Eye''s kind." JT''s scream echoed through his mind, raw, terrible, and final.


    Marcus tapped another location. "What''s that tower called?"


    "Latentine settlement," Kyle read, the words forming in his mind rather than on the page. Warning symbols surrounded it—more than any other location.


    "And there," Dex pointed to a structure labeled ''The Tomb of the Fallen.'' "Says Tier 1. With a skull symbol." Kyle found another marking nearby. "Cave system. ''Dwellers Paradise.'' Says Tier 0."


    "So 0 is easier than 1?" Marcus asked. "Like levels?"


    Dex nodded. "Game shit. Lower numbers, easier targets."


    Kyle folded the map, noting how the glow dimmed when he broke contact, then reignited when he touched it again. Like we discussed earlier, water first."


    He ignored the strange pull he felt toward the tower—a tugging sensation behind his navel whenever his eyes drifted to its location on the map. Something waited there. Something important.


    The night air had cooled slightly, but humidity still clung to their skin. The large Moon and its smaller kin filtered through the canopy above, casting dappled silver patterns across the forest floor. Nocturnal creatures chirped and buzzed in the distance, creating an alien symphony.


    Kyle leaned against the massive tree trunk, rubbing his eyes. "Do you think we should try to sleep more? Or should we just start moving? It''s not that dark out here."


    Dex snorted, adjusting his grip on his makeshift spear. "Nah, take your midnight nap if you need it. If shit starts popping off, I''ll wake your ass up." His voice was gruff, but a smile played on his lips.


    Marcus nodded in agreement, settling back against the massive root system. "Yeah, I got the first few hours. You deserve some rest." He looked in the distance. "We''ve got a long walk ahead of us tomorrow."


    While Marcus and Dex argue over which one on them should take watch next.


    Kyle  didn''t need further convincing. He curled up on a patch of soft moss, using his arm as a pillow. Within minutes, his breathing deepened into sleep.


    <hr>


    The jungle thickened as they traveled, forcing them to hack through undergrowth with spears and broken branches. Sweat soaked Kyle''s shirt, plastering it to his back like a second skin, each breath harder than the last. The humid air felt like drowning standing up, like breathing through wet concrete.


    Kyle''s mind drifted as they walked, memories surfacing unbidden, unwanted. His father sitting beside him on their apartment building''s roof, pointing out constellations from a dog-eared astronomy book—one of the few nights he wasn''t locked up or running the streets. Dreams of space, of exploration, of escape from concrete and sirens and the crushing certainty that tomorrow would be identical to today.


    His mother''s voice cutting through those dreams the next morning, sharp as broken glass: "Stars ain''t for people like us. Keep your head out the clouds and your feet on solid ground."


    Years later, the bitter irony struck him—here he stood beneath strange stars on a world that wasn''t his. Cosmic joke.


    The creature came at him from nowhere, a lightning strike of teeth and muscle that shattered the veneer of safety Kyle had constructed in his mind.


    Its jaws found his thigh before his brain fully registered the attack. bone crunching under the bite, meat tearing wet and loud. Pain didn’t just hurt—it roared, a white-hot banshee shredding every nerve, screaming, You’re meat, Kyle, you’re done. Kyle felt his leg buckle, blood gushed hot and sticky, painting his jeans black-red in the light.


    Kyle''s hand found the creature''s eye, fingers sinking into softness that yielded with obscene ease. The beast released his leg with a shriek that sounded almost human in its pain. Something inside Kyle broke—a dam of restraint that had kept him rational. He drove the spear down with a scream that contained all his fear, all his wrath at being hunted, all his refusal to die forgotten on this soil.


    The creature''s death throes splattered his face with familiar red blood. Kyle staggered, the world spinning as he sought his friends through the crimson haze. Marcus fought with desperate, clumsy jabs, his face a mask of terror. Dex''s movements were frantic, uncoordinated—a man drowning in violence.


    “Together!” Kyle bellowed, voice cracking, the word a rope thrown blind into the dark—tying him to JT’s laugh, to Ma’s scolding, to every bodega run with these two clowns, to whatever slim shot they had left. “Together, yo, or we fuckin’ die out here!”


    <hr>


    [Congratulation You have reached Level 2]


    He kept his expression neutral, as he consciously put 3 points into strength and agility then 1 into intelligence and dexterity. He noticed neither Dex nor Marcus reacted similarly. Best keep this to myself for now.


    "We should keep moving," he said, turning southeast again. "Still need that water."


    The jungle grew denser, vegetation shifting from purple hues to deeper blues. Kyle led, Dex and Marcus flanking, each watching different directions.


    Kyle spotted it first—a subtle movement against the foliage that didn''t match the wind. He opened his mouth to warn the others, but the attack came too quickly.


    A creature dropped from the canopy—massive, insectoid, with limbs that bent at unnatural angles. It resembled a praying mantis the size of a man, but with chameleon-like skin that shifted colors to match its surroundings.


    "Above!" Kyle shouted as it landed between them, limbs slashing out.


    Their response came faster this time, more coordinated. Kyle dodged left, Dex right. Marcus ducked beneath a scything limb.


    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    "Dex, left flank!" Kyle called, hearing himself say the words felt strange yet right.


    Marcus, keeped it pinned. Dex circled around, thrusting at the creature''s side. It twisted unnaturally, almost liquid in its movements, avoiding the spear tip. One limb struck Dex across the chest, sending him sprawling. He hit the ground with an audible crack.


    Marcus darted in, jabbing at the creature''s lower segments. Kyle attacked from the top, drawing its attention.


    Then Marcus adjusted his grip, drew back, and hurled his spear with startling accuracy. The weapon spun once before burying itself in the creature''s central eye cluster. It let out a high-pitched screech, limbs flailing.


    Kyle dove in, driving his knife up through the softer underside of its body, blue blood splashed as the creature thrashed, nearly throwing him off, before collapsing in a twitching heap.


    White motes appeared again—and again, Kyle received a visibly larger share. As they absorbed into his chest, he felt the difference in energy, in potential, in power.


    Dex pushed himself up, back healed but face contorted with suspicion. "You didn''t even do most of the work this time. Why you getting more of that glowing shit?"


    Kyle''s heart raced. "I don''t know what you are talking about my guy, I just reached level 2."


    The partial truth seemed to satisfy them as notifications appeared for both Dex and Marcus:


    Relief washed through Kyle as their attention shifted to their own advancement. Another dodge.


    They continued toward the water source, tension hanging between them like the humid air.


    <hr>


    By mid-afternoon, they reached a clearing where a small waterfall emptied into a crystal-clear pool. The sound of falling water nearly masked another noise—voices, movement, activity.


    Kyle dropped to a crouch, signaling the others. They slid into the underbrush at the clearing''s edge, watching as figures emerged from the opposite treeline.


    "Holy shit," Marcus whispered.


    Blue-skinned humanoids—like the corpses they''d found—moved alongside green-skinned beings with long ears that flopped down at the tips. They moved with purpose, carrying large clay vessels toward the water.


    "People," Marcus breathed. "Actual fucking people."


    They dont look like people I''ve ever seen. Kyle thought.


    Kyle studied them from hiding. The blue-skinned ones—, had small horns protruding from their foreheads, that curved upwards like rams. The green ones had intricate line patterns across their skin and dark green hair.


    They wore woven fabrics in reds, blues and greens, with leather-like components. They all worked together seamlessly, collecting water in their vessels.


    A single Green-skinned, distinguished by elaborate armbands, a chest medallion, an interesting head-dress that had colorful feathers like a crown that sat above his long ears which had red metallic looking hoop piercing directed the operation. Kyle watched, fascinated, as filled vessels were sealed and handed to this leader.


    When the leader touched each vessel, it vanished entirely. His ring would flash momentarily, then the container disappeared. Empty vessels materialized from his hands when needed, which he distributed to the workers.


    "Look at his ring," Marcus whispered. "They light up right before the pots vanish."


    "Some kind of transportation magic or something?" Kyle suggested.


    Dex snorted softly. "Magic. Still can''t believe we''re saying that shit for real."


    The leader occasionally scanned the treeline, looking almost directly at their hiding place. Kyle''s breath caught in his throat during these moments, pressing himself flatter against the ground.


    Something else pulled at Kyle''s attention—a sensation of being watched from a different direction. Not the water collection party, but something else. Something hidden. His skin prickled, hairs standing on end.


    Kyle scanned the opposite treeline, seeing nothing unusual. Yet the feeling intensified—not danger exactly, but something.


    The water collection group eventually finished their task and departed, heading back the way they''d come. Silence settled over the clearing once more.


    "That was wild," Marcus said as they cautiously approached the water. "Actual intelligent beings working together."


    After a while of waiting, they walked down. Blue-tinged vegetation grew dense along the edges, casting dappled shadows across their path. The air felt thicker here, almost pressurized against his eardrums.


    Kyle knelt beside the pool, cupping water in his hands. It tasted sweeter than Earth water, with mineral notes he couldn''t identify. They drank deeply.


    "Did either of you feel like something else was watching us?" Kyle asked, glancing back toward the trees. "Not them, but something else?"


    Dex and Marcus exchanged looks, then shook their heads.


    "Just you, bro," Marcus said.


    A notification appeared:


    [Survival Quest: Find a water source - COMPLETED] [New Skill acquired: Survivalist Novice 2]


    The familiar motes appeared, smaller than after combat but still disproportionately flowing toward Kyle.


    "I know how to build fires now," Kyle said, blinking as information filtered into his consciousness. "And hu—"


    The word never left his mouth as the first Boar-Lizard beast crashed through the underbrush—scales catching purple sunlight, tusks gleaming wet. It charged straight at Marcus, who spun sideways, but not fast enough. The creature''s shoulder slammed into his ribs, sending him sprawling across mud and vegetation.


    "MARCUS!" Dex shouted, already moving.


    The beast pivoted, nostrils flaring as it tracked Marcus''s scent. Before it could charge again, Dex hurled a rock that struck its eye with a wet smack. The creature whirled; attention diverted.


    "That''s right, look at me," Dex backed up, drawing it away from Marcus.


    Two more beasts burst from opposite sides of the clearing—one aimed at Kyle, the other circling toward Marcus''s prone form.


    Kyle braced as his opponent charged. He angled his spear, remembering how their scales deflected direct strikes. The beast lowered its head, tusks aimed at his gut. Kyle waited until the last moment, then stepped aside, driving his spear into the unarmored junction between neck and shoulder.


    The weapon sank deep. Orange blood sprayed across Kyle''s chest and face. Where it touched, his skin erupted in pain—his flesh was separating into layers. He screamed, stumbling backward as the creature thrashed, his spear still embedded in its flesh.


    Across the clearing, Marcus had regained his feet, clutching his side where ribs had cracked. His beast circled, testing his defenses with short charges. Marcus kept his spear moving, point tracking the creature''s movements. When it finally committed to a full charge, Marcus dropped to one knee and angled his spear upward.


    The beast impaled itself on the crude weapon, momentum driving the point up through its soft palate into its brain. The creature''s legs buckled, but its momentum carried it forward, collapsing on top of Marcus'' left leg with a crack. Orange blood poured from its mouth, splashing across Marcus''s legs. His scream cut through the clearing as the blood sipped through denim then ate through flesh.


    Dex faced off against the largest beast—shoulders massive with muscle, hide thick with overlapping scales. It pawed the ground, amber eyes never leaving his face. Dex circled left, keeping distance between them.


    "Come on," he muttered.


    The beast charged. Dex waited; timing perfect as it closed the gap. At the last second, he dropped flat. The creature''s bulk sailed over him, claws grazing his back as it passed. Before it could turn, Dex sprang up, driving his knife into the soft tissue between its back legs.


    The beast shrieked, a sound that vibrated against Kyle''s skeleton. It whirled, quicker than anything that size should move, catching Dex''s shoulder with a tusk. The impact spun him around, tearing flesh. Blood soaked his shirt immediately.


    Kyle yanked his spear free from his fallen opponent, joining Dex as the massive beast circled them. Marcus dragged himself from beneath his kill, legs blistered and weeping fluid.


    "We got two down," Kyle panted.


    His optimism died as the underbrush rustled. A fourth beast emerged, then a fifth—larger than the ones they''d. The largest hung back, watching.


    "We''re surrounded," Marcus limped to join them, forming a defensive line.


    The first attack came from Kyle''s left—jaws snapping inches from his arm as he brought his spear around. The point skidded across scales, finding no purchase. The creature''s bulk slammed into him, driving him backward. Pain flared through his ankle as he stumbled over a root. He went down hard, losing his grip on the spear.


    The beast loomed over him, triumph in its amber eyes. Kyle rolled left as tusks plunged into the ground where his throat had been. He scrambled backward, fingers closing around a jagged rock. When the creature lunged again, he smashed the rock against its face. It gashed, spraying fluid that scorched his hand.


    The creature reeled back, giving Kyle space to regain his feet. His spear lay five feet away, but the beast stood between them, It shook its massive head, orange-black blood dripping from its face.


    Across the way, Dex and Marcus fought back-to-back, a mess of blood and grit—Dex slowing, Marcus barely upright. They stabbed and thrust, wearing their beast down till it backed off, wary. They’re fading, Kyle thought, and I’m next.


    Terror crystallized into a desperate, animal need to live. Not for glory or vengeance, but for the simple, primal fact that he wasn''t finished yet. His existence wasn''t complete.


    His hand fumbled into his pocket—the vial—He pulled it out. "DEX! MARCUS! RUN!" he shouted, hurling the vial at the alpha.


    The glass arced through filtered light, spinning end over end. The alpha tracked its movement, jaws opening as if to catch it. The vial shattered against its snout.


    Crimson mist erupted on impact, spreading outward in defiance of natural laws. Where it touched the alpha''s hide, scales bubbled and split. The beast reared back, a shriek tearing from its throat that made Kyle''s eardrums throb. It thrashed, massive head whipping side to side as the mist worked through its system.


    The beast closest to him charged; Kyle dove, rolled, snagged his spear mid-motion, slashing its snout with a swing as it turned—blood sprayed, but far enough it didn''t touch him.


    The alpha, eye’s dissolving, patches of hide sloughing away to reveal muscle beneath. it staggered, shaking off the effects, it charged from rage or instinct or both. Blood dripped from its wounds, sizzling against vegetation.


    "Fuck!" Kyle yelled


    The wounded alpha barreled toward him, Kyle raised his spear, knowing it wouldn''t be enough. The creature was too big, too strong, even wounded. I''m dead. Time slowed.


    Memories flashed—JT’s grin as he took a tumble off the stoop, too drunk to stand, too stubborn to quit—“Catch you later, fam”—gone before Kyle could grab him. Ma’s hands, quick and sure, braiding Shanice’s hair in their cramped Harlem walk-up, the TV blaring Judge Judy while she muttered, “Boy, you better not be late again.” Grandma’s spot on 145th, that stale-sweet mix of mothballs and fried plantains, her voice rasping, "?Estás muy flaco, come algo!"


    Dex appeared at his right, blood streaming down his arm but determination set in his jaw. "Aim for its throat!" he shouted, his own spear angled upward. Marcus limped to his left.


    The alpha seemed to smell the trap, hesitating mid-charge. That moment was all they needed.


    "NOW!" Kyle bellowed.


    Three spears struck as one—Kyle''s catching the beast under its jaw, Dex''s penetrating its exposed flank where scales had sloughed away, Marcus''s driving into its haunch, severing tendons. The alpha reared back, a roar dying in its throat as Kyle''s spear pierced something vital.


    Orange blood gushed over Kyle''s hands and arms. The orange blood bit into his flesh, raising blisters that burst and wept clear fluid. He screamed but held firm, driving the spear deeper as the beast thrashed in its death throes.


    Dex twisted his weapon, opening the wound wider. Blood sprayed across his chest and face, He roared, jamming his spear in deeper, refusing to let go.


    Marcus drove his spear through the side of the creature''s knee joint, crippling its ability to stand. It collapsed forward, the sudden shift in weight nearly tearing Kyle''s spear from his grip. The three men held their positions, weapons embedded in the massive beast as its life drained away.


    The alpha gave one final shudder before going still. The surviving pack members slunk away, disappearing into the undergrowth.


    Kyle collapsed to his knees, every muscle screaming. His hands and forearms blistered from contact with the creature''s blood, skin peeling away in strips. Across from him, Dex pressed his sleeve against his shoulder wound, fabric already soaked through.


    Marcus sat heavily, examining his legs where acid blood had eaten flesh. The skin had blackened, edges weeping fluid.


    "We alive?" Dex asked, voice ragged.


    Kyle nodded, unable to form words past the pain. Around them, the clearing fell silent, broken only by their labored breathing.


    Then came the light—pinpricks of white radiance blooming from the alpha''s cooling flesh. The motes multiplied, rising like microscopic stars against the purple-tinged sky. They hung suspended in divinity, then separated into three uneven streams, each flowing toward one of them.


    The motes came in like a wave, first pain but then relief spread, Kyle''s acid-burned skin didn''t heal completely, but enough to dull the worst pain. Blisters receded, blackened tissue sloughed away, replaced by new growth. Muscle and bones mended.


    Dex''s shoulder wound closed under the motes'' influence; bleeding stopped but muscle damage only partially repaired.


    Marcus watched as motes sank into his chest, a pain he looked to welcome with a smile, the worst burns fading to angry red scars that wrapped around his calves like twisted vines.


    When the last mote disappeared, they sat in silence, processing what had happened. They had survived—again—but the cost written across their bodies in scars they would carry forever.


    [Congratulation you have reached level 4] [Spear Mastery has increased to Novice 4]