Dev froze.
Not from the damp chill of the Weeping Woods, nor from the lingering adrenaline of his recent level-up. He froze because his mind, newly expanded by the System's upgrade, screamed danger with a clarity that bypassed thought and went straight to primal instinct.
His [Spatial Awareness] wasn't just a faint vibration anymore. This was a pulse, a heavy throb of wrongness emanating from deeper within the twisted trees to his right. It felt like a physical weight pressing against his perception, cold and suffocating.
Then came the System's confirmation, stark red against the usual blue:
[WARNING: Hostile entity has entered your Spatial Awareness!]
[Vision Range: 20m]
[Target: Level 3 'Weeping Shadow']
'Level 3...'
The number hung in his mind, heavy and absolute. He was Level 2. The fight against the Level 1 Gloom Stalker had nearly disintegrated his soul-form, even with the sword. A Level 3... that wasn't a fight. That was an executioner arriving.
His improved [Vision Range] pierced the gloom twenty meters out. And there it was.
Standing near a thicket of bleeding roots was a figure that defied the already nightmarish logic of the Nexus. It was tall, impossibly thin, like stretched-out darkness given humanoid form. Its limbs seemed too long, its movements unnervingly fluid, less like walking and more like flowing shadow. Black, viscous ooze seemed to drip from it constantly, pooling at its feet like the sap from the surrounding trees. It had no discernible features, no face, save for a single, baleful point of crimson light that burned in the center of where its head should be.
A Weeping Shadow. The name clicked with sickening aptness. It looked like the woods themselves had birthed a sentient, mobile piece of their own despair.
And it wasn't looking at him.
Its single red eye was fixed on the Gloom Stalker. The Level 1 predator Dev had been seconds away from ambushing was sniffing the air, completely oblivious to the far greater threat that had just entered its hunting ground. The Stalker hadn't sensed it. Dev only knew because of his SPI-derived sub-stats; the Stalker, relying on more primitive senses, was utterly unaware.
'Prey becomes predator becomes prey,' Dev thought, the cold calculus he'd learned hours ago taking over. His brief surge of confidence from hitting Level 2 evaporated, replaced by a necessary, chilling caution. He sank lower behind the log, pressing his soul-form flat against the damp earth, willing himself invisible. His rusted sword felt like a twig in his hand now.
The Gloom Stalker finally seemed to sense something. The shadowy fur along its spine bristled. It let out a low, guttural growl, its own red pinprick eyes scanning the darkness, searching for the source of the unease. It looked right past the Weeping Shadow, its senses unable to properly register the entity.
The Shadow moved.
It didn't lunge or charge. It flowed. One moment it was twenty meters away, the next it seemed to simply elongate, a tendril of pure darkness bridging the distance in less than a second. The Stalker had no time to react.
A limb of shadow, impossibly sharp, lashed out. It didn't claw; it pierced. Straight through the Gloom Stalker's chest.
There was no sound of impact, just a sickening, wet tearing as the Shadow's limb punched through the Stalker's semi-corporeal form. The Level 1 creature let out a choked, high-pitched shriek, a sound abruptly cut off. Its red eyes widened in shock and agony, then flickered out like dying embers.
The Weeping Shadow retracted its limb. The Gloom Stalker didn't fall; it dissolved, its shadowy form unraveling into black mist that was instantly drawn towards the Shadow, absorbed into its dripping mass.
[Level 1 'Gloom Stalker' defeated by 'Weeping Shadow']
[+0 Nexus Shards]
[+0 Lesser Soul-Essence]
The System prompt was almost mocking in its neutrality. Dev hadn't participated, so he got nothing. The Shadow had consumed its kill entirely.
Dev didn't breathe. He watched, his mind racing, cold dread warring with a morbid fascination. The sheer speed, the utter finality of the kill... the gap between Level 1 and Level 3 was a chasm. The Stalker that had pushed him to the brink of annihilation was less than fodder to this new entity. It was simply... erased.
The Weeping Shadow stood motionless for a moment, the red eye sweeping the area. Dev felt that gaze pass over his hiding spot, and his soul-form involuntarily clenched. Did it see him? Could it sense him through his [Spatial Awareness]? He didn't know the limits of a Level 3's perception. He focused on remaining utterly still, suppressing the faint blue mist leaking from his still-mending wounds.
Apparently satisfied, or perhaps simply indifferent, the Shadow turned and began to flow back into the deeper woods, its tall, thin form melting into the oppressive darkness until Dev's [Vision Range] could no longer track it. The heavy pulse in his [Spatial Awareness] faded slowly, like a receding tide, leaving an echoing silence.
Dev remained hidden for a full five minutes, his senses strained, listening for any sign of its return. Nothing. It was gone.
He slowly let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, the tension leaving his limbs in a trembling wave.
'Okay,' he thought, the analytical part of his mind taking back control. 'New data point: Level 3 exists here. Level 3 is untouchable. Avoid at all costs.'
His plan to hunt Gloom Stalkers for faster Essence gain seemed laughably suicidal now. He had barely survived one. What if another Weeping Shadow was drawn by the fight? What if there were other, even stronger things lurking deeper in?
Selina's words echoed: 'Those bugs won't be enough to get you to Level 2'. Well, he was Level 2 now, but the sentiment remained. Grinding Level 0 Sappers felt agonizingly slow, yielding only 1 Essence each. But it was safe. Relatively safe.
He looked at the spot where the Stalker had dissolved. Nothing remained. No Shards, no Essence. The Shadow had taken it all. There was no scavenging opportunity here.
'Efficiency versus survival,' he mused. The Weeping Woods had just taught him another brutal lesson. Being a predator was good, but knowing when you were still prey was better. Staying alive yielded more Essence in the long run than dying quickly for a slightly bigger reward.
He tightened his grip on the rusted sword. His increased stats felt less like power and more like the bare minimum requirement to exist in this nightmare. The 2% Sync Rate waiting for him back in his physical body felt insignificant compared to the power he had just witnessed.
'Need more,' the familiar, cold hunger echoed in his core. 'Need to get stronger. Strong enough that things like that run from me.'
But not tonight. Tonight, caution was the only viable strategy.
He rose slowly from behind the log, his enhanced senses constantly scanning the oppressive darkness. He ignored the deeper parts of the woods, the source of that chilling pulse. He turned back, back towards the slightly less menacing outer edges where the Blood-Sappers skittered amongst the roots.
The hunt resumed, but the arrogance was gone, replaced by a grim, patient determination. Each Level 0 kill felt pathetic, the single shard and single essence a pittance. But it was progress. It was survival.
[+1 Essence].
[+1 Essence].
[+1 Essence].
He focused on the grind, pushing the image of the dripping, shadowy figure and its single, burning red eye to the back of his mind. But it lingered there, a stark reminder of the true scale of the Nexus, and how far up the food chain he still needed to climb. He was Level 2, yes. But in the Weeping Woods, he was still just starting. He was still prey. And the night was far from over.