Chapter 8 — Entering the Rift
The sensation ended quickly, and Sam steadied his breath.
He was ready to step through the rift when something tugged at his mind.
The cores.
Amid the wrecked living room, faint glimmers pulsed like dying stars among the blood and debris.
He crouched, gathering them one by one. The first—the one ripped from the goblin's chest—glowed faintly. The others— the wolves' cores—rested among broken furniture and cracked tiles, four cores in total.
Tiny. Fingernail-sized. Yet brimming with power. Their insides seemed to contain a swirling cloud-like mist.
He stared at them, then at the rift. The system notification had said to absorb but he did not know how.
He hesitated only a heartbeat before clenching his fist around one core, going entirely on instinct.
A pale mist rose from the core—soft, silvery-white—and slithered into his skin. He gasped as it entered him through every pore, through the sting of his arm cuts, everywhere.
The sensation was strange. Warm, heavy. Like something alive crawling beneath his flesh.
The mist drifted deeper, vanishing somewhere inside him.
Then came the faint chime.
You have received: Strength +1
A moment later—another.
Mana +1
Again.
Agility +1
And again.
Endurance +1
His muscles spasmed and made microshifts beneath his skin as his cells adjusted to the influx. But something was wrong—the absorption was slow. Too slow.
Minutes crawled by, and the first core had barely shrunk to a quarter of its original size.
"At this rate—" he muttered.
He didn't have minutes, he barely had a second. Serena was out there—captured, alone, possibly hurt.
Every second here was another she was in danger.
He turned to walk toward the rift but paused.
What if the goblins were waiting on the other side? What if he wasn't strong enough to save her?
No. He couldn't risk it.
He glanced down at the glowing remnants, jaw set. He did the only thing he thought could help him in this situation.
Devour.
And indeed….
Dark mist erupted from his palm—thick, cold, alive. It coiled around the cores, swallowing their light whole. The glows dimmed, flickered once, and vanished. While the cores cracked, shattered, and dispersed, the mist sank back into his skin.
The response was immediate.
You have received:
Strength +13
Agility +14
Endurance +11
Mana +12
The numbers burned bright in his vision. His body shuddered.
Power—pure, unrestrained—flooded through him. His pulse roared. Muscles tensed and released. For a heartbeat, he felt unstoppable.
In an instant his stats increased twice over. It was overwhelming.
Calming down, he summoned the panel.
STATUS
Name: Sam Walker
Age: 19
Rank: F (3/100)
Talent: Devour (SSS / Unique)
Attributes:
• Strength: 23
• Agility: 21
• Endurance: 18
• Mana: 17
Skills: None
He stared at the screen, jaw tight.
His rank was no longer at zero. Progress—but not enough.
Still, it would have to do.
He looked up at the rift. Its surface rippled faintly, as though the world itself was holding its breath. Light shimmered along its edges, and a faint breeze spilled from within—carrying the scent of the unknown with it.
Sam took one long, steady breath.
"Hold on, Serena, I'm coming," he whispered.
Then he stepped through.
The world stretched and folded around him. It felt like being squeezed through a keyhole, every part of him compressed and twisted. His vision warped. Sound vanished. For a heartbeat, there was nothing.
Then gravity returned.
He hit the ground hard. His knees buckled. The taste of bile filled his mouth as nausea surged through him.
He vomited.
When the spasms faded, he lifted his head—and froze.
The world around him was different. Unfamiliar.
And in the corner of his vision, the system screen flashed with a new notification.