"FUCK. I hate everything in this god-forsaken city."
Alex had released the thing pressing on his chest, well, one of them at least.
The baby cave spiders gnawing at his chest, carving their will on his skin, tearing him apart, were wrong—not gravity wrong, not a metaphysical wrong—but a "did these devs ever learn game balance?" wrong. Each attempt to claw through the eight-legged menaces ended in more skin torn rather than dead spiders, as his hands missed their target while they darted across his body.
"I should've realized. Everything here is a trap. Hell, I bet even death is a trap."
"I'm sure of it even if I die, this city—no, this world—would stitch me back together"
Of course, there had been many signs throughout this five-minute escapade: the shiny cave walls slowly drifting into coarse obsidian, devoid of light; the incessant clicks replaced with curious screeching; and, of course… the smell.
Alex had sensed it, the decay, well of course the area was a stagnant brood of carcasses, but what was more important…
"WHY THE FUCK DO I SMELL EVERYTHING GODDAMN IT!"
Was the brain.
"I wonder if these bastards have some sort of neurotoxin."
Alex had a quick understanding of his newfound rune. After all it was the only reason he was alive, working overtime detoxifying the venom slowly embedded by fangs that barely pierced his skin.
Then a rational thought had pierced the stalemate.
"URSA IGNIS," Alex uttered, from his soul.
The words tore from him.
Spiders turned to ash, even the cave groaned as its obsidian walls slowly fractured under the tremendous flame.
But what filled Alex's heart wasn't joy, pride or even relief.
"Why… why does this feel like a waste"
— — —