Even long after the others drifted off, the system's faint hum still crawled beneath my skin. My arms burned, my head ached, and the taste of dust and blood clung to my tongue. The numbers on my HUD pulsed low and weak:
Health: 27 / 100
Hunger: Critical
Internal Stability: 63%
I stared at the tent ceiling, chest rising shallow. Every time I closed my eyes, the hunger twitched in my gut. Not just empty, but alive.
The system whispered faintly in the corner of my vision:
Penalty Timer Active.
"Feed the flesh. Sustain the form."
Health will continue to degrade in 00:45:00.
I cursed under my breath and pushed myself upright. My body protested, muscles quivering from the day's punishment. Mason was asleep already, dead to the world.
I pulled one of the hidden pouches from under my cot. The jerky I'd stashed that morning, tore it open, and started eating. The first bite tasted like dirt and salt. I forced the rest down anyway.
[Protein Consumed : 100g/100g] "The flesh sustains. The form endures." + 10 exp
Health: 37/100 -> 60/100
Warmth crawled through my limbs. The shaking dulled, breath steadied. Still, pain lingered, a deep ache behind my ribs that food couldn't touch.
A faint notification blinked:
[Nutritional balance restored]
Structural fatigue remains until recovery.
** Full regeneration requires rest or advanced adaptation protocols.
I huffed a tired laugh. "So you fix the hunger, but not the damage. Figures."
The HUD pulsed in acknowledgment, like it approved the complaint.
I leaned back against the cot, chewing the last strip like it might keep me human.
For a moment, it almost did.
Daily Task Complete: Feed the Flesh
Remaining Daily Task: Strengthen the Body — Complete.
Day Summary:
Strength +2
Endurance +1
Total Experience: 50 / 75
Current Level: 3
Rewards Pending
[Daily Cycle Closed]
Summary archived.
Preparing next directive…
The light from the display dimmed to a soft shimmer, as if even the system needed to rest.
Sleep took me fast, heavy and dreamless.
—————
The tent was cool when I woke, pale light seeping through the seams. My throat was dry, but my muscles felt… different. The ache remained, but it had shape now, like it belonged.
The HUD blinked alive as I sat up.
[Host: Terry Holt]
Level: 3
EXP: 50 / 75
Health: 75 / 100
Stamina: 100 / 100
Strength: 8
Endurance: 6
Perception: 4
Instincts: 5
Unspent Attribute Points: 2
New Skill: Scanner (Stage 1)
Stability: 72%
[Passive Recovery Complete]
"Host condition stabilized."
I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, half-smiling. "Still here."
Mason was still out cold, one arm dangling off his cot, snoring soft enough to shake the canvas. I smirked. "Rise and shine, lazy-bones. Some of us are evolving over here."
He groaned without opening his eyes. "Five more minutes."
The morning bell hadn't rung yet. If I was lucky, I'd have a few quiet minutes before the day started.
I pulled the display closer, letting the system's clean blue light cut across the tent walls.
Two points.
Two ways forward.
System Recommendation:
+1 Endurance (stabilize host)
+1 Perception (increase Scanner fidelity)
It was logical. Controlled. Safe.
But "safe" had almost gotten me killed yesterday.
I hovered over the options. Strength would make me faster, more dangerous. Instincts would help when the hunger came back.
The image of Vargas's terrified face flickered in my mind, and Mason's.
I sighed and accepted the system's advice.
[Endurance: 6 → 7]
Muscular resilience improved. Damage threshold +4%.
[Perception: 4 → 5]
Scanner clarity +12%. Sensory response latency reduced.
The world sharpened immediately. Every sound distinct, every scent layered. I could hear guards muttering outside, smell the metal tang of the trench even from here.
"Let's see what you can do," I muttered, calling up Scanner.
New Skill Unlocked: Scanner (Stage 1)
Mode: Surface | Depth: Limited
Targets: Organic / Inorganic / Chemical
Cost: Minimal Stamina | Cooldown: 10s
*Note: Certain targets may trigger reactive scans if system compatibility is detected.
My heart thudded once, hard. "Reactive scans." Meaning… it could talk back.
I decided to start small.
—————
I crouched near my pack and focused on the torn pouch from last night — the same jerky wrapper still lying in the dirt. My first test.
SCAN — Food (Jerky, salted)
Source: Animal protein — beef and deer mix.
Added: Salt and smoke for flavor.
Trace: Tiny bits of metal dust from tools.
Result: Safe to eat. Restores strength.
I exhaled. Normal. Safe. For once, something in this place made sense.
Then I glanced toward Mason's untouched breakfast packet from the mess hall. The gray paste everyone else lived on.
SCAN — Food (Ration Paste)
Base: Mushrooms and ground bone.
Added: Chemicals that calm nerves and slow reactions.
Trace: Medicine that weakens the immune system.
Result: Keeps you full. Keeps you quiet. Long-term use weakens the body and mind.
My stomach turned.
After fifteen years of being told the paste was "nutritionally balanced."
It wasn't food. It was obedience.