My quill transformed, becoming longer, crystalline, pulsing with cosmic energy that made the air itself hum with potential. When I drew it through the air, reality itself seemed to split along its path—not metaphorically, but literally. The fabric of existence parted like a curtain, revealing glimpses of raw lunar code beneath, equations and symbols swirling in the void between dimensions. I could see the mathematical underpinnings of reality, the cosmic equations that governed existence itself—and I could change them.
The power coursing through me was intoxicating, terrifying. This was what we had sacrificed those lives for—this terrible, wonderful power. The knowledge made it both more precious and more horrifying.
The creature paused, regarding our transformation with what almost seemed like caution—perhaps even a flicker of something like fear in those multifaceted eyes. Its crystalline growths pulsed faster, more erratically. Then it charged, moving with blinding speed, the floor cracking beneath each thunderous step.
Aurora met it head-on, her aura-enhanced blade slicing through the air with a sound like reality itself being torn asunder. Where before her sword had been stopped by the creature's crystalline armor, now it cut through, lunar energy meeting lunar energy in a shower of silver sparks. The creature howled—the first sound we'd heard it make—a high, keening wail that shattered the remaining windows and sent dust cascading from the ceiling. Silver blood erupted from a deep gash across its chest, smoking where it hit the floor.
It lashed out with frightening speed, elongated arm extending like a whip, but Aurora was different now too—faster, stronger, her movements leaving trails of silver light in the air like cosmic calligraphy. She ducked beneath its swing with impossible grace, her blade cutting upward to sever one of its elongated arms at the elbow. The limb fell, dissolving into motes of light before it hit the ground.
I focused on my new ability, tearing a rift in reality directly beneath the creature. The floor gave way, not physically crumbling but simply ceasing to exist where my quill had traced. Space itself parted, revealing a glimpse of the howling void between dimensions. The creature dropped partially through before catching itself on the edges, crystalline growths on its remaining arm digging into the concrete for support. For the first time, its face showed something recognizable—fear.
"Now, Aurora!" I shouted.
She didn't hesitate. Her aura-enhanced blade plunged down into the creature's exposed back, driving deep between crystalline plates, the silver energy penetrating where physical metal alone could not. At the same time, I closed the reality fracture, not fully but enough to compress the creature's body where it was caught—like cosmic scissors cutting through a paper doll.
The monster thrashed violently, silver blood spraying across the room in an expanding constellation of droplets. Its multifaceted eyes locked onto mine, reflecting not just my image but something else—something almost like recognition, like understanding. Perhaps even respect. Then Aurora twisted her blade, driving it deeper, and those eyes went dark, the silver light extinguishing like stars blinking out.
The creature's body began to dissolve, breaking down into motes of silver light that floated upward before disappearing entirely. Within seconds, nothing remained but a faint shimmer in the air where it had been, a ripple in reality that slowly smoothed itself out.
Quest Completed: The Evolved One
Unlocked Experience gained: 5000
Silence fell over the lecture hall, broken only by our ragged breathing. The bodies of our sacrificed allies lay where they had fallen, accusatory in their stillness. No monster had killed them. We had.
Experience gained: 5000
Level up! You are now level 11
Stat points available: 5
Aurora's interface displayed the same advancement:
Level up! You are now level 11
Stat points available: 5
Aurora's aura faded slowly, her enhanced blade returning to its normal form before dissolving entirely. She stumbled, the adrenaline that had carried her through the fight finally giving way to exhaustion, to the crushing weight of what we had done to achieve this victory.
I caught her before she fell, my own body trembling with fatigue and the aftereffects of channeling so much power. Around us lay the bodies of our allies—not killed by the creature, but by our own hands. Their sacrifice had given us the power to defeat the monster, but at what cost? What part of our humanity had we surrendered in that transaction?
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"We did it," Aurora whispered, her voice hollow, empty of the triumph that should have accompanied such a victory.
I nodded, unable to speak past the knot in my throat, the crushing weight of guilt and grief. Victory had never tasted so bitter, so metallic—like blood on my tongue.
In the back of my mind, a terrible question formed: If killing these seven had made us strong enough to defeat one evolved creature, how many more would we need to sacrifice to face whatever came next? Where did this path end? And what would remain of us when we reached its conclusion?
Aurora turned away from the window, her face set in grim determination despite the weight of what we'd done. "We stick to the plan. Get to my grandmother's place, regroup, figure out what's happening to the world."
I nodded, but a new fear had taken root in my mind. If regular zombies provided no experience past level 10, and if entities like the Sentinel were the new normal for our advancement, then the System was creating a terrible incentive structure. High-level users would be forced to hunt increasingly dangerous prey—or turn on other users for their experience.
It was elegantly, horribly efficient. The strong would grow stronger by consuming the weak, exactly as nature intended. But we weren't in nature anymore. We were in a game designed by something that viewed human life as nothing more than a resource to be allocated and spent.
"Nate," Aurora said quietly as we prepared to leave, "what have we become?"
I had no answer for her. The System had changed the world, and now it had changed us too. We had killed our own allies to gain power. We had crossed a line that could never be uncrossed.
As we stepped over the bodies of the people we'd sacrificed, I caught a final glimpse of Mills' face—eyes open, staring at nothing, expression frozen in that last moment before death. Had she regretted her decision in that final instant? Had any of them?
Nathaniel Moretti
Level: 11
Main Class: Astral Equationist (★★★★★)
Stats:
STR: 18
AGI: 18
CI: 40
CON: 19
INT: 35
Aurora Reyes
Level: 11
Main Class: Lunar Knight (★★★★)
Stats:
STR: 38
AGI: 40
CON: 27
INT: 15
"Seriously, we got a lot stronger really quick," I said, in what must be the understatement of the apocalypse. Two weeks ago, I was worrying about astrophysics exams. Now I was casually rewriting gravity with a quill made of starlight.
She frowned, the kind of frown that made even lunar zombies reconsider their life choices. "The problem is that even something as strong as that evolved zombie that took us both working together barely gave us enough EXP to reach level 11," she said, tracing the hilt of her silver sword absent-mindedly. "The EXP requirements just increased a lot."
I nodded, feeling the pieces click together in my mind like a jigsaw puzzle depicting the end of the world. "It makes sense," I said, as dots connected in my brain with almost audible pings.
"What do you mean?" Aurora asked, her blue eyes challenging me to explain the universe's twisted logic.
"I mean, they don't want the military to have any impact, right?" I gestured vaguely. "Basically, the System wants people to reach level 10 quickly, because at that level, even someone with just a one-star class would be a monster. Right now, the two of us are ridiculously strong compared to the average humans – those lucky enough not to be shambling around with silver eyes and a sudden appetite for brains, that is."
"That makes sense," Aurora agreed, doing that thing where she made a knife dance between her fingers like it was the most natural thing in the world. My new reality involved a lot of sharp objects performing ballet. "And yet... there seems to be so much more to this sudden strength we got."
"It will be dark soon," I said, feeling the weight of those words. The entire day almost passed since the apocalypse began.
"Yeah," Aurora agreed, the simple word carrying the weight of all the things neither of us wanted to say.
I flexed my fingers, still feeling the phantom touch of that starlight quill. Level 11.
"We should be able to break through without much trouble though," I said, my voice steadier than I felt. "Even if it is an evolved zombie, we can win at our level."
Aurora gave me a measuring look. "Do you wish to face one?" she asked as we walked through the now deserted halls. The bodies of the zombies we'd cleared lay scattered around us, silent reminders of what humanity had become.
"Yes," I replied, knowing what was at stake. "We need more power, don't we?"
"I agree," Aurora said, her fingers resting on the hilt of her sword. "That second skill I got... it seems to me like just the tip of an iceberg, something I can feel but can't fully explore without the System."
'Strength,' I thought grimly. Currently, I could only manipulate gravity. A powerful ability, certainly, but still just one weapon in what would need to be an arsenal. Even with just this, I was able to fight close to Aurora's level.
And my specific stat that was unique to me, Cosmic Intent. It felt special in a way that was difficult to articulate – like I'd been handed a key without knowing which door it opened.
I needed to find out how special it was. To protect those I care about in this twisted world.
As we were trying to find a suitable room without corpses to rest in, I stopped suddenly. The air around me shifted, a subtle fluctuation in lunar energy that I was becoming increasingly attuned to.
"Another evolved?" Aurora cursed, her hand immediately going to her sword as she noticed my reaction.
"No, much weaker," I shook my head, focusing on the distinct signature. "Other survivors."
We looked at each other for a moment, weighing the risks and possibilities, before rushing toward the energy source. Aurora followed close behind, keeping her hand on her sword. Trust was a luxury few could afford now.
'They are at the entrance,' I thought as we moved quickly through the building, following the energy signature like a beacon.
