Ray crouched beneath the overturned transport vehicle, breath shallow, fear and anxiety trembling through his spine. Around him sprawled a graveyard of similar fallen carriers—abandoned military hulks left to rot the moment this world was declared a red-portal planet.
Above that stillness, three Death Bats circled. Their wings carved harsh arcs through the air as they scanned the dead human on the ground and the restless herd of Rataclaws nearby. Then, in a single vicious motion, one bat folded its wings and dove—striking the Rataclaws with a lightning-fast blow. The herd didn't even flinch from the danger; they only squealed and lunged, mindless vermin driven by hunger alone.
The bats rose again, circling… waiting… and then all three aligned their gaping maws toward the herd. A beat later, the air quivered.
Ultrasonic waves detonated across the clearing.
At first, it looked like nothing had happened. Then the Rataclaws collapsed—one, then another, then the whole pack dropping like puppets with cut strings.
Ray, trapped just meters away inside the gutted bus, felt the world tilt. A dizzy, nauseating pressure wormed through his skull. His mind trembled at the edges, dread unfurling like a dark tide. He gritted his teeth, forced himself to shake it off, and peeked through the shattered window.
He knew staying here meant death. And when he opened the chat group, the truth hit him harder than the sonic wave—no one was coming. No rescue, no support. Just silence. His chest ached. He felt something break.
Outside, the bats descended. They landed among the dazed Rataclaws and tore into them, feasting on still-living bodies. Minutes passed, wet and sickening, until one bat paused—its head snapping toward a flicker of movement.
…
Quinn moved faster than he ever had before, wind exploding beneath his feet in stronger and stronger bursts. His sense has sharpened than before and every muscle adapted to his current evolution.He was locked in, with only the thought of saving Ray—and then he saw them.
Death Bats diving.
"No…" he muttered. "I have to get there. Fast."
As he closed the distance and the scene hit him like a punch. The beasts were feasting—on Rataclaws, on scraps of a fallen student, absolute gore lay infront of him.
Quinn felt a sharp, cutting emotion. He was too late. And it has happened exactly like what the others had warned him about, it had already unfolded right in front of him. For Quinn Ray had been slaughtered without mercy, fed to beasts like nothing more than scraps.
Something ignited in him.
Quinn's blood burned hot, a wildfire fueled by every rotten memory of the corrupt military, of TrueDream's schemes, of Duke's manipulation. That fury crystallized, sharp and lethal, upon these beasts.
Quinn formed a spear in an instant the earth gathered listening to his commands, compressing, sharpening under his focus. It gleamed with a steel-hard shine, stronger than anything he'd ever created. It was no surprise cause right now his Earth attribute had finally hit the eight-point threshold, his constructs were denser, heavier, and more deadly.
He poured all twenty-four points of Strength into the throw.
The spear launched at a sharp forty-five-degree arc, slicing through the air faster than any human arm should allow.
One Death Bat in the middle of feasting, twitched at the flicker of motion, but it was too late.
A spear tore straight through its wing, ripping the membrane apart. The creature shrieked, spiraling down in agony.
The other two shot upward, circling, scanning for the attacker.
Quinn didn't wait to be found. He sprinted out,using all his agility pushing him into low blurring arcs of movement.
---
Inside the overturned bus, Ray felt the dizziness fade just enough to register the sound—a murderous shriek rolling through the air. He peered out, confused, then startled.
A blur zig-zagged across the battlefield.
He blinked hard. Rubbed his eyes.
And there—a boy in the same military uniform as his, darting across the ground, hurling huge earthen spears toward the sky.
---
"Damn this is frustrating. They can fly. How the hell am I supposed to kill them?"
The system's voice cut in, sharp,"Quinn, you have to eliminate those beasts immediately. Death Bats always hunt in groups and they will soon send a wave of agony for others to come. More will overwhelm you.
"Yeah, sure—easy for you to say. I can't fly, can I?"
As he scanned the sky, the injured Death Bat clawed its way upward again, locking onto his position.
The others circled—and then all three unleashed ultrasonic waves.
Quinn staggered. Dizziness spiked through his skull. His vision warped.
Ahh—damn it… I can't focus—
Through the haze he saw one bat dive and then a white-hot stab of agony shot in his abdomen.
He hit the ground hard, rolling through dust.
-20 HP
40/60 HP
Heal me System—now! he yelled.
Warm green light wrapped around his torso, knitting flesh, dulling the pain. A breath of peace washed over him—but he had no luxury to enjoy it.
Pain cleared the last of the dizziness. Holding his own through the healing wound Quinn flash-stepped twice, reappearing in front of the wounded bat.
He made the movements of the Hammer Strike. And at the final motion, he triggered his Ice ability forming a dense ice spike—
BOOM.
A shockwave blasted the dust into a towering cloud.
When it finally settled, Ray's breath caught.
A spark of hope finally flickered inside him.
Wait… that's Quinn? He killed that thing?
---
Quinn didn't pause. The system was right—time was against him.
What if they can fly? Fine. I'll pull the sky down.
He slammed his palms into the ground. The earth trembled.
A steep hill erupted upward like a rising wave.
Damn… that cost a lot.
From all the previous uses his MC had dropped down to—
MC: 200/390.
Thinking of what next to do an old memory resurface — when he used to come after the school there was a channel in the TV which released videos of the past, the various past sport events, and among the events one of them stood peculiar, there was a sport that showed people skating over frozen fields even lakes, spinning and gliding with effortless control.
Right now he was going to recreate it in his own way.
He shaped an ice board, grabbed it, and took off running. Behind him, he froze the ground into a smooth track. He tossed the board down, stepped onto it, and surfed forward—using the wind ability his stride got faster.
The slope lifted him higher, and the gush of wind also grew sharper his speed multiplied until he was a streak racing up the artificial hill.
At the peak, he fired a final burst of wind and launched himself into the moonlit sky.
Now… this is going to be the tough part.
He hardened his fists mid-air. With a roar, he soared through the air and using the wind he he aligned his direction to the circling death bat. He came at a great velocity and smashed his knuckles reinforced with earth into the descending Death Bat's skull.
The bat plummeted like a stone.
Quinn followed, free-fall turning into panic.
Ahh—no no no—Wind, now!
Air curled beneath him, slowing his drop.
But then his balance got off, and then He crashed and rolled, landing hard.
He groaned, with dust in his teeth.