Awakening The Abyssal System

Slowly, he tried to catch a glimpse of whatever it was, praying it might be a creature he had heard of before. But as his eyes settled on the shadowy figure amid the dust, gnawing on massive bones as if they were nothing, his prayers were swallowed whole.

With large ears dripping dry, crusted blood, a gaping maw lined with jagged canines as hard as stone, and a grotesque, wrinkled nose tinted a lifeless red, the creature revealed itself—a monstrous bat, feasting compulsively on a dead carcass in the middle of the room.

Its skin was as black and lifeless as the void, yet the sparse fur on its body bore the color of sand, patchy and missing in random tufts. The exposed skin was riddled with punctures, cuts, and abrasions. Its claws, as sharp as its fangs, gouged deep marks into the sandstone as it scraped up bones from the ground. Its wings hung in tatters, riddled with holes, resembling ghostly, tattered fabric.

A Cackling Nightwing? That's suicide!

Buck stared at the beast in front of him, contempt and frustration gnawing at him as he questioned the purpose of this second life. He couldn't even run.

He'd heard of these creatures before—deadly predators that hunted in packs, their senses of sight, hearing, and smell so keen that they could detect prey from hundreds of meters away. They were swift enough to dodge any weapon wielded by an unprepared agent.

How did it not hear me coming?

The biggest question pounding in his mind was how his earlier cries of rage hadn't attracted a swarm of these beasts to tear him apart.

Pulling himself together, he focused on the scene before him. He noticed something critical—the Cackling Nightwing was injured and appeared to be alone, separated from its pack.

Even in its weakened state, it remained far too dangerous. Yet, Buck's greed, the insatiable allure of killing an Abyssal creature, began to cloud his judgment, framing this reckless act as a necessary risk.

It was true—one bite from the creature could end him. Hell, it wouldn't even need to bite; the sheer weight of the beast leaping onto him would crush him. But slaying an Abyssal predator came with rewards too great to ignore.

Maybe… it's consumed a relic.

Predators like this had a compulsive tendency to devour anything in sight, even rocks mistaken for prey due to their scent or appearance. This mindless gluttony often led them to consume creatures, people, or even relics they encountered while battling over ruins.

The mere act of touching a relic could bind it to the creature, fusing it with its flesh due to their inability to properly channel Stardust.

Then there was the Stardust itself.

Stardust was a mysterious, luminous mist that emerged from any creature slain by another. It would unerringly seek out the one who delivered the killing blow, no matter where they were. Stardust was also generated when someone used relics or Singularities. In essence, it was pure power, present in everything born of the Abyss—including Abyss Spawns.

If Buck could manage to kill this creature, he'd gain Stardust to fuel his Singularities, pieces of the beast for various sacrifices, and possibly even a relic buried within its flesh.

The risks were enormous, but the potential rewards whispered seductively in his mind.

But he wondered how he could possibly manage it, without even a weapon.

— Psst! You flying rat of a hag, your queen's a shrew!

The colossal bat seemed to ignore Buck's failed insults.

Ha. It's really deaf.

This gave Buck an idea—one born of his mentally unstable mind, still slightly intoxicated with pure hatred.

Slowly, he moved toward one of the large support beams, cracked and worn, near the pile of bones the creature was consuming.

His eyes were wide open, fixated on every movement of the bat, not blinking even for a fraction of a second as he carefully stepped over the stones on the ground, now painful against his delicate foot that lacked the tough, natural sole he once had.

Bloody hell! I need a shoe.

As he reached the beam, the stench of the Abyssal creature's body was palpable from the proximity. Buck was only a few meters away from the monster.

With a few steps, he could stab it in the back—if only he had a weapon.

The creature seemed to be finishing off the bones, so he needed to hurry. Every second that passed increased the chance he would leave this place dead.

Buck then gripped the pillar with both hands, putting all his strength into his legs, pushing with everything he had, making his face flush with the effort.

The ancient beam released small stones from its cracks, resisting the boy's force. In a moment of failure, one of the tiny rocks fell under the pressure as Buck pushed the sandstone, causing his hand to slide and reveal a sharp stone shard.

His hand started bleeding, and Buck immediately covered the wound with his other hand, but it was too late.

While the monster devoured the carcass without mercy, its erratic movements suddenly froze, and a terrifying laugh began to escape from its toothy mouth, mimicking the grotesque sound.

Without time to be paralyzed, Buck quickly tried to throw himself into the pillar, ignoring the pain it would cause. The sound of a collapse echoed just as the boy's scream of pain rang out from his dislocated shoulder.

But it was too late for a clean strike. With the scent of fresh blood flooding the creature's nostrils, it went wild, hunting for the sweet taste of blood, far more appetizing than the rotten marrow of the bones. Because of this, the Cackling Nightwing veered away from the collapsing pillar—but not entirely.

As it slid across the sandstone, colliding with surfaces in its frenzy to follow the scent of blood, the falling beam managed to land on one of the creature's wings. The colossal bat unleashed an earsplitting roar so thunderous that Buck's body vibrated, his ears filled with the deafening buzz of a thousand wasps, throwing him off balance.

Clutching his dislocated shoulder, Buck hurled himself over the beam, taking advantage of the creature's disorientation to escape its razor-sharp claws.

As he landed, the creature immediately tried to snatch the Abyss Spawn clambering over its wing, its other arm swiping furiously. Instead, it tore a massive gash into the fragile membrane of its wing.

Buck stumbled on the creature's coarse, leathery skin, but he ran with everything he had toward the shattered bones scattered by the bat's voracious feeding. His hands scrambled for a jagged shard about the size of his forearm, its sharp, bloodthirsty point glinting with potential.

His bare foot scraped painfully against the rough ground as he charged forward, gripping the bone shard with all his might. The enraged creature, insulted by the human's audacity to topple a beam onto it, lashed out. Its injuries, however—especially its wing pinned beneath the rubble—restricted its movements to slower, albeit powerful, attacks.

The Nightwing's descending claw sliced through the air with a whistling sound, deadly but delayed.

Buck, his face etched with terror, sidestepped toward the buried wing. The claw gouged a massive trench in the sandstone where he'd just stood, narrowly missing him.

With desperate determination, he clambered up the creature's massive arm, using the bone shard as a climbing tool. Every puncture he made drew dark, viscous blood, and his free hand yanked at the creature's sandy fur for leverage.

Near the top, Buck knew he was out of time. He took a risky leap, propelled by sheer will.

The creature's gaping mouth lunged to snap him up, but it was too late. Before its teeth could close around Buck's torso, the boy drove the jagged bone deep into its obsidian eye with all the strength he could muster.

The instant the shard pierced the creature's brain, its immense body convulsed violently. The force of its thrashing ripped its buried wing free from the rubble, severing part of its own arm in the process.

Buck, clinging desperately to the creature's head, was flung through the air, landing on the pile of bones with a sickening crunch. His back was punctured by dozens of sharp fragments.

— Argh!

The bat writhed uncontrollably, smashing its body against the walls and floor in a destructive frenzy.

Buck realized with growing dread that if he didn't finish it now, the collapsing ceiling would bury both the dying creature and himself, giving this ruined tomb it's porpoise again.

— Just die already you freak!

He scrambled to his feet, ignoring the pain as he half-ran, half-crawled toward the thrashing creature's head.

Rising from his quadrupedal sprint, Buck gathered all his strength into a desperate kick, driving the bone shard deeper into the Nightwing's skull. The creature's massive body seized one final time, then fell still. A gust of air rushed past Buck as the bat's colossal wing collapsed beside him, stirring his hair.

[You have slain a Lesser Cackling Nightwing.]

[The Stardust dances around you.]