If you've never teleported before, here's the best way I can describe it is:
Imagine your body gets torn into paper-thin slices, tossed through a blender, and then stapled back together in the wrong order.
But somehow, it works.
That was my first Rift Step.
The dungeon corridor ahead was empty now, lit only by the faint blue glow of the crystal-veined walls. I paced a few meters forward, my boots crunching over cracked stone. My breath fogged in the cold air.
"Alright" I muttered, "let's see if this thing wasn't just a one-time party trick."
I focused on a loose boulder up ahead. My vision bent, the air rippled and I was standing next to it, the echo of my own footsteps still bouncing behind me.
I laughed.
Out loud.
Alone.
Which made me sound a little unhinged.
"Okay, okay, this is good. This is very good."
Testing became a game.
Rift Step sideways between two pillars.
Forward through a crumbled doorway.
Up onto a ledge I couldn't normally reach.
Every time I used it, the sensation smoothed out just a little more, less like being chopped up in a blender, more like sliding between two sheets of glass.
I started to see the possibilities.
Raid parties fight in predictable ways. Tanks hold the front. Damage dealers dance around the sides. Healers stay tucked in the back. Rift Step? That didn't fit into any of their neat little patterns.
It meant I could be anywhere and they'd never see me coming.
The sound of scraping claws yanked me out of my thoughts.
I turned.
From a collapsed tunnel ahead, a goblin-like creature dragged itself into view. But this wasn't your garden-variety dungeon pest. This one was bigger, skin stretched over corded muscle, eyes glowing faint yellow.
A Stray Mob.
Leftover from the raid.
The kind they warn you about in the safety manual that nobody reads. The thing spotted me and snarled, brandishing a jagged scrap of metal for a weapon.
"Oh good" I sighed, "a test dummy with a bad dental plan."
It rushed me.
I didn't bother bracing, I Rift-Stepped sideways, letting it barrel past. It skidded to a stop, confused, giving me a perfect angle to smash the butt of my spear into the back of its knee.
The mob howled and dropped, swinging wildly. I Rift-Stepped behind it again, the spear tip hovering over its spine.
"Should've stayed in the shadows, buddy."
One thrust. Down it went.
The System's voice hummed in my skull.
[Stray Goblin Berserker defeated. Choose one skill to assimilate:]
• FrenziedStrike - Unleash a rapid chain of attacks, sacrificing defense for speed.
• BloodScent (passive) - Gain heightened awareness of injured enemies within a 20 meter radius.
Frenzied Strike's tempting, more damage, faster kills. But it's also the kind of thing that gets you killed if you overcommit. I've seen hotshot hunters swing themselves into an early grave because they couldn't stop hitting long enough to dodge.
Blood Scent... now that is interesting. In dungeons, knowing where something's hiding is the difference between walking out alive and being an unmarked gravestone in the guild archives.
And honestly? Being able to smell fear...
Kind of poetic.
[Skillacquired: Blood Scent.]
A faint, coppery tang hit the back of my throat. The dungeon felt sharper now, edges clearer, like the shadows themselves were breathing.
I smiled, gripping my spear.
"Alright" I said to the darkness, "what's next?"