System notification: 2 / 15 mutated rats terminated
System notification: Debuff applied — Anger of the Skaven.
Designation: Blood has been spilled. The scent carries.
Nearby Skaven entities will exhibit immediate hostility.
Condition for removal: Complete designated task — Rat Killer.
System notification: Debuff applied — Wounded.
Designation: Structural damage detected.
Primary limb functionality compromised.
Weapon use restricted. Combat efficiency reduced.
Biological attractant levels elevated.
All beast-class entities are drawn to your presence.
All beast-class entities have received status augmentation: Blood Lust
— Damage output increased by +5 when engaging you.
Duration: Active until condition Wounded is resolved.
A pit opened in my stomach as the messages finished scrolling.
No. I couldn't panic. Panic would get me killed. I had to think.
The rat's final gift burned along my arm. I tore off my shirt and cut it into rough strips with my dagger. One breath. Then another. I wrapped the wound tight, biting back a groan as pain flared when I pulled the bandage closed.
When it was done, I sent the bloodied cloth and the dagger away. Red tendrils swallowed them, vanishing into that unseen space.
Inventory. Pocket dimension. Whatever it was.
I didn't dwell on it.
My arm was shaking.
No—I was shaking.
My heart hammered in my chest, my whole body trembling as if I were standing naked in a snowstorm. I grabbed both spears. The same red tendrils coiled around one of them, pulling it from my grip and out of existence.
I stared at the remaining spear. Short. Crude. Goblin-made.
But usable.
One-handed.
I shifted my injured arm an inch.
White-hot pain tore through it.
Useless.
The thought barely finished forming before my mind began to slow. The edges of the room blurred, sounds fading into a dull, distant hum. My thoughts stretched thin, unraveling, slipping through my grasp.
Darkness closed in.
System message: CONSUME.
I gasped and snapped awake.
For a moment, I didn't know where I was—or what I'd been doing. My heart raced, but the fear felt muted, distant, like it belonged to someone else. I shook my head and turned in place, trying to reorient myself.
The room was dim.
Quiet.
And in the faint reflection of broken stone and pooled water, my eyes glowed red.