"Freakin' stupid Merecritt! And that smug-faced, worm-hearted Mina!"

  The breath tore from her chest in ragged heaves as she sprinted through the forest, the world around her shifting into something colder, darker—delightfully grim.

  This wasn't the sweet, glitter-glade side of UvoSath. Not the prissy, sun-dappled haven the goody-two-shoes back there called 'home.' Nope, this was… her home. A home that hated her back, with poison-tongued winds and skeletal trees that had long since given up pretending to be alive and tenderly gross. And yet, in all its cursed, ash-bled ruin, it was beautiful.

  Horrifically so. Comforting, even. Like returning to a scornful mother.

  The trees blinked at her—yes, blinked. Their single, malignant eyes pulsing with sickly green light. The Tropiruth. The Terrotruth. The sentinels of the Forbidden Fringe. Their gaze pierced through her, familiar and hungry. They didn't love her. No, nothing in this place did. But they remembered her. And for a Gremgem, that was enough.

  The horrors parted with a grudging, twitching grace, their gaze still boring into her hunched, scuttling form. They let her pass, limbs folding away from the path, like unwilling servants bowing before the feet of the condemned. They knew the primal scent she carried—the rot and grit of Gremgem kinship. She had bled here before. And that counted for something.

  She moved quickly, though her gut twisted with every step. She was heading toward the camp—the camp. Where silence spoke louder than screams, and the shadows carried names.

  There, in the clearing choked by black mist and crackling dust, rose the obsidian stone—the throne of him. The Boss.

  She halted, eyes wide, limbs trembling like leaves beneath the weight of a predator’s breath. On that cubic monument sat the figure that commanded even the trees to hush—the Grimgore Boss, Warlord of Gremgems, Monarch of Misery.

  Creature: Grimgore

  — Species: Gremgem

  — Title: "Grimgore Boss", "Warlord"

  — Sobriquet: "Great Gem Gremlin"

  — Evolution Stage: [Dominant]

  — Variance: [Elite]

  — APU: [368,000] Particle Units

  — Attributes: [Grim], [Ore], [Evil]

  — Faction: [Preda-Praieon], [Evil]

  She tripped. Like an idiot, of course. Nose-first into the cracked soil. Because nothing says "worthy warrior" like eating dirt in front of the deadliest creature in your bloodline.

  "Boss, it's me," she hated how weak and wheezy her voice stammered, "lowly Gremgem, in humble servitude to the Gauntlet Grimgem Corps of the Garnegem Unit!"

  The Boss barely shifted and only flicked his gaze to the side, toward the stinking silhouette beside him. That other monstrosity. The Grimgore Warlock. Ugh.

  Creature: Grimgore Warlock

  — Species: Gremgem

  — Title: "Grimgore Warlock"

  This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  — Sobriquet: "Great Gem Gremlin"

  — Evolution Stage: [Dominant]

  — Variance: [Rare]

  — APU: [199,200] Particle Units

  — Attributes: [Grim], [Ore], [Evil]

  — Faction: [Preda-Praieon], [Evil]

  "Speak your claim, rugged pest," came the Boss's reply.

  "I-I'm here to report the outcome of the battle." Her voice cracked. She forced herself not to crumble. "We, the Garnegem Unit, attempted to capture a Merecritt. But... we failed. The entire squad was obliterated. I am... the only survivor."

  Her legs buckled. The shame, the horror—it weighed more than her gems. She dropped to her knees and bowed, forehead against the cursed soil. "Please, Boss... I beg your mercy. I accept any punishment, but spare my pitiful life."

  Jeers rose from the other Gremgems, their cruel laughter piercing through the heavy air. "Boss is gonna skin her alive!" one shouted. "He's gonna snap her gems and wear 'em as teeth!"

  But all fell to hush the moment the Boss raised his hand.

  "Silence, fiends," he commanded. Even the trees dared not rustle. Nor the shadows continued to shift. "This is a matter for me and the runt. Not for the likes of you. Scram."

  Reluctantly, they obeyed, retreating into the dark like giggling hyenas. Soon, only she, the Boss, and the Warlock remained.

  "Warlock. Conjure silence."

  The Warlock gave a nod, tapping his grotesque staff against the earth. A shimmering, thick orb of mist enveloped them, warping the air and pressing in like suffocating wool. The forest sounds died. She shrank back instinctively, dread curling up her spine like frostbite.

  The Boss stood, eyes gleaming with quiet wrath. "You failed. You led them to ruin. That... is shameful."

  Her voice trembled. "I—I accept full responsibility. I'll do whatever it takes to regain your trust, Boss!"

  He tilted his head, grinning like a butcher with a dull knife. "I knew you'd say that. I always know. Very well. I won't crush you like a useless pebble."

  Relief flooded her—far too soon.

  "Instead, punishment. Give me your gems."

  Her heart stopped. The gems embedded in her flesh—one in her arm, another on her head—weren't just ornaments. They were her. Her essence. Her life. Her power.

  "No. Please. Boss... not my gems... anything but—"

  He laughed. "Relax. I won't keep them. Indefinitely. The Warlock here needs a test subject. You shall be it. Congratulations."

  Dread seeped into her bones like poison. "No! I—I'm not ready—I—"

  "Enough," the Boss growled. "Take this pathetic pebble away."

  The Warlock approached with a grin too wide for his face. "Come now, little one. Destiny awaits."

  She whimpered, rose shakily, and obeyed. The Warlock led her from the clearing, through twisted paths and into the mouth of his sanctum. It was a place carved from 'mineral', reeking of rot and old magic.

  Entering she saw glass tubes filled with twitching beasts. Totems made of teeth. Rituals carved into bone. Her steps came to a halt when the Warlock's staff barred her path as they reached another floor.

  "This is where you’ll be remade," he said.

  "What are you trying to do, you sick bastard?"

  He turned, eyes glowing with a madman's pride. "Like any other Zeldritch. Gremgems evolve by devouring. Crystals. Corpses. The Fallen. But what if I infused you directly with the essence of other monsters? Imagine the power. Imagine the apex."

  She stared at the tubes. At the monstrosities around them. Her stomach churned.

  "You're insane."

  "Correct," he beamed. "But I'm also right."

  His gaze slid toward a glass cylinder containing what looked like a Merecritt with a scorpion's tail.

  "We've been driven into the shadows long enough," he continued. "Once I perfect this fusion, the world will remember our name. The Gremgems will no longer be vermin. We will reign."

  She gagged at the vision he painted. She'd heard mad rants before but this was apocalyptic. "So you've chosen me to be your little meat puppet, huh?"

  "Oh yes," he said with a smile that made her sick. "You, my dear, are another key."

  "Well," she muttered bitterly, "better than getting shredded, I guess."

  And yet, as she trudged deeper into the suffocating dark of the Warlock's lab, her thoughts flickered back to the battlefield. To the Merecritt girl. To Mina. To those damn eyes.

  She could never forget how those blue eyes stared through her like she was already dead. And yet… she hadn't been. They'd spared her.

  No. Mina had spared her. And that made everything worse. They should have ended her. But instead they left her humiliated, crawling back to her superiors like a gutless slug.

  She'd kill them all for that. She'd burn them to ashes, one squealing Merecritt at a time. All Merecritts were monsters. They deserved extinction. All of them. All.

  Her blood burned with the promise of vengeance.

  "I'll make them pay," she whispered, as she was led to the sacrificial circle where two other Gremgems writhed in agony. The Warlock began to chant.

  She stepped onto the circle, trembling.

  "Damn it all." The ritual began and some type of freaky, foreign voice called out to her. 'Revenge against… the Chieftain… accept… my will…'