Cromus lay on the cold cave floor, his body aching and unresponsive. He struggled to move, but every attempt was met with a sharp, cold ache. “Come on! I can’t leave Sais to fight that monster by himself,” he thought, gritting his teeth as he focused all his effort into moving his left arm. Slowly, he managed to lift it forward, the limb tingling and throbbing as though it had been asleep for hours. His palm landed on something smooth.

  Corrupted Dire Wolf Core: This core has been tainted. Once the foreign energy is removed, it can be used for crafting, rituals, or even to improve oneself. Using it before the removal of the foreign energy could have severe consequences.

  Cromus squinted, forcing one eye open. The faint glow of the core was unmistakable, its dark and swirling energy similar to that of the Corrupted Bearded Vulture Bear core he had encountered before. His vision blurred as the venom’s effects deepened. “Damn it, the poison’s spreading.” Cromus closed his eye, desperation driving his decision.

  Do you wish to absorb the Corrupted Dire Wolf Core? Yes/No

  Warning: This could cause irreversible changes to your body.

  The message loomed in his vision. Weighing the choice, Cromus clenched his teeth. “Do or die,” he thought and mentally selected “Yes.”

  In another plane of existence, a being stirred in the vast nothingness it called home. Its senses extended across the connections it had seeded in beasts, monsters, and constructs. A new link emerged, clearer and stronger than most. The entity tilted its head in intrigue. “A half-orc,” it murmured. “Strong, yet bound to Gaia.” A grimace crossed its visage before twisting into a smirk. “Patience is key in the games of gods.”

  Cromus felt the core’s energy shift from solid to liquid, seeping through his palm and surging up his arm. The venom in his veins was consumed by the foreign energy, replaced by a vital, almost overwhelming warmth. His body trembled as vitality from the dire wolf fused with his own.

  YOU HAVE SUCCESSFULLY ABSORBED THE C???O???R???R?U?P???T???E??D? DIRE WOLF CORE. [REEEEEEDDDADADCTEDEDEDED]

  The message buzzed and distorted before vanishing.

  YOU HAVE SUCCESSFULLY ABSORBED THE DIRE WOLF CORE! You now have +4 to all physical stats for the next five minutes. Use this increase wisely!

  The notification snapped Cromus into focus. His eyes shot open as energy coursed through him, driving him to his feet. His mana bar, no longer grayed out, allowed him to activate Animal Affinity. The familiar glow encompassed his left arm, transforming it into the taloned limb of the Bearded Vulture Bear. A grin spread across his face as he sprinted toward the fight, his every step radiating newfound strength.

  Cromus entered the cavernous battleground. The snake man stood over the disintegrating remnants of the clockwork defender, withdrawing its sword from the mangled construct. “Relentless summon,” it muttered as the defender dissolved into shimmering particles.

  Turning its head, the snake man caught sight of Cromus. “You again?” it hissed. “I’m impressed you can still stand.” Its eyes narrowed, taking in the changes to Cromus. “Ah, so you absorbed the core, didn’t you?”

  Cromus said nothing, his distorted left arm radiating power. His left eye was pitch black with a glowing purple iris, his veins alight with the same hue. Picking up his dropped bastard sword in his right hand, Cromus glared. To him, the image of his taloned arm and burning energy seemed triumphant, but the reality was far darker. The core’s influence distorted the truth in Cromus’s mind.

  “You’re not walking away from this,” he growled, his voice echoing unnaturally.

  The snake man’s gaze lingered on Cromus’s corrupted arm and face. “You fool,” it sneered. “You don’t even see what you’ve become.” It gestured toward Cromus, mockery in its tone. “That arm, those veins—even your face. The corruption is written across your body.”

  Cromus heard only what the corruption allowed: a taunt about his newfound strength. His grin widened. “Say what you will. I’m still stronger than you.”

  The snake man’s smirk faded. “Foolish, blind strength.” With a hiss, it lunged, blade flashing.

  Their clash was immediate and violent. Cromus’s bastard sword met the snake man’s strikes with brutal ferocity. The talons of his corrupted arm tore through armor and drew blood, each swing more savage than the last. The snake man dodged and countered with calculated precision, slicing shallow wounds along Cromus’s side and legs.

  Cromus pressed on, the distortion in his mind fueling his belief in his victory. He roared, unleashing a barrage of attacks. The snake man began to falter under the relentless onslaught. A clawed swipe caught the snake man’s shoulder, rending flesh and forcing it back.

  “Your power’s unstable,” the snake man spat, trying to regain footing. “It’s already consuming you.”

  Cromus lunged, grabbing the snake man’s wrist with his taloned arm. The snake man howled as black nails dug deep, forcing it to drop its sword. Cromus twisted the arm violently, snapping bone and rendering it useless. “You talk too much,” he growled, his distorted voice cutting through the echoes of the cavern.

  The snake man kicked at Cromus, trying to escape, but Cromus tightened his grip. With his bastard sword, Cromus slashed downward, severing the arm below the elbow. The snake man staggered, clutching the bleeding stump. Its defiance burned in its gaze even as it faltered. “You… will regret this.”

  “Not today,” Cromus replied. With a final, powerful swing, he decapitated the snake man. Its body crumpled as its head rolled to a stop.

  The adrenaline coursing through Cromus began to ebb, leaving behind a gnawing fatigue and the stark reality of the battle. His breaths came in ragged gasps as his gaze landed on Sais, motionless on the ground. A surge of panic seized him, extinguishing any remnants of his battle high.

  "Sais!" he shouted, stumbling forward. His corrupted arm twitched uncontrollably, the dark veins pulsing as he dropped his sword with a metallic clang. Dropping to his knees beside his friend, Cromus extended his shaking hand. He hesitated for a moment, his distorted claws trembling above Sais’s chest, before steeling himself. Light poured from his hand as the spell took hold, weaving through Sais's battered form. Cromus’s distorted left arm trembled with the strain, but he pushed onward, casting healing spells in rapid succession until Sais's shallow breaths began to steady.

  Relief washed over him as Sais stirred, his eyes fluttering open briefly.

  “You look terrible,” Sais murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, yet laced with faint humor.

  Cromus’s distorted appearance startled him. His left side—darkened veins, glowing purple markings, and pitch-black nails—seemed otherworldly. “Rest,” Cromus replied, his distorted voice unsettling. “I’ve got you.”

  Once Sais was stable, Cromus slumped against the cavern wall, his strength draining rapidly. Notifications buzzed in his peripheral vision, but he dismissed them. A low growl broke the silence. Turning, he saw the familiar glowing eyes of the beast that had aided him earlier.

  “It’s you,” Cromus said, extending his taloned arm before realizing the spell was still active. The growling intensified. “Sorry,” he muttered, dismissing the spell. “See? No threat.” The creature approached cautiously, sniffing his hand before licking it. “You’re just a big pup, aren’t you?” he chuckled, patting its head.

  As the last of his energy drained, Cromus leaned back, exhaustion overtaking him. Before his vision dimmed, a familiar small figure materialized just out of his vision of a man on his hands and knees. “Why do I get the feeling this is going to be a regular status for me?”

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  The Asilisk now sat firmly in his lap, its scaled head tilted curiously as it stared up at Cromus. It blinked, its large, gleaming eyes filled with a mix of innocence and curiosity.

  “Oh, sorry,” Cromus muttered with a weak chuckle. “I was just thinking out loud.” He patted the creature’s head, his touch more deliberate this time, as if grounding himself against the rising tide of weariness. “But I guess I have you to thank for even being able to complain right now, huh? Don’t I, little… uh, guy? Girl?” He squinted. “Honestly, I don’t even know what you are.”

  The Asilisk let out a soft, chirping sound, and as if in response, a notification shimmered into view.

  Asilisk

  Temperament: Friendly

  Ways to improve temperament: Time and care.

  Cromus let out a low laugh, his lips pulling into a faint grin. “Well, little one,” he began, stroking the creature’s head again, “if you’re fine, I’d like to try something. It’ll help us communicate better. You can reject it if you want—no pressure.” The creature’s bright eyes blinked at him, uncomprehending but trusting.

  Summoning what little strength he had left, Cromus activated Animal Link. A faint glow enveloped his thoughts, and he felt the spell latch onto something small but vibrant within the Asilisk. Silence followed. Cromus frowned. ‘Did it not work?’

  ‘Work? No. Rest.’

  The voice was deeper than he expected, rich with childlike innocence and boundless energy, yet steady and calm. Cromus blinked in surprise. ‘Oh, it did!’ he thought excitedly. ‘Hi, I’m Cromus. What are you called?’

  ‘Called?’ the voice echoed back, curious and uncertain.

  ‘Yes, like a name—something someone would use to get your attention.’

  The creature tilted its head, the voice resuming in his mind. ‘Asilisk. Dumb. Expensive. Yes, that is what Big Lizard said while pointing.’

  Cromus stifled a tired laugh. ‘No, no, those aren’t names, just words people used to describe you. A name is more personal—something someone familiar with you would use. Would you like one? I could give you a name.’

  ‘You give name? You nice. You save me. Yes!’ the Asilisk’s voice trilled with excitement, the simple joy of it warming Cromus’s chest.

  He scratched his chin in thought, glancing down at the creature’s big, trusting eyes and lolling tongue. ‘Thor? No, I don’t want to anger a god. Diesel? Too modern. Duke? Nah, doesn’t fit.’ A warm, comforting feeling welled up despite his exhaustion. “Athas,” he whispered aloud, as if the name had been waiting for him to find it.

  ‘Athas!’ the Asilisk’s voice rang with delight. ‘Athas! I like Athas!’

  ‘Then it’s settled,’ Cromus thought, scratching behind one of Athas’s predominant horns. The Asilisk stilled, its contentment almost palpable.

  ‘Right there… ooooh, that’s the spot,’ Athas’s voice murmured in pure bliss.

  Cromus chuckled, scratching behind the other horn for good measure. For a moment, the weight of battle and exhaustion slipped away, replaced by the simple pleasure of connection.

  Cromus leaned back against the cool cavern wall, his breaths slow and labored. Athas rested on his lap, the Asilisk’s sleek, scaled body a comforting weight. Its tail coiled gently around Cromus’s side as it nuzzled him. Though the battle was over and Sais was stable, the sheer effort of everything—absorbing the core, fighting the snake man, and healing his ally—had drained Cromus completely. He stroked Athas absentmindedly, the rhythmic motion of his hand on the creature’s smooth scales a welcome distraction.

  “Yep, you sure are weird, Cromus.”

  The high-pitched, nasal voice snapped him out of his daze. Blinking, he turned toward the sound and saw Loose Tooth standing at the tunnel entrance. Behind him were two smaller goblins and an older one, leaning heavy on a crooked stick.

  Cromus mustered a faint smile, his head tilting back against the stone wall. “I thought we already talked about that, Loose.”

  Loose Tooth shrugged. “We did, but it still felt right to say it again.”

  Cromus shook his head, chuckling softly. He gestured toward the newcomers with his free hand. “Who’re your friends? Family? Clanmates?”

  Loose Tooth puffed out his chest like he was someone important. “Elder Shaman and my denmates. They got grabbed with me.”

  The elder shuffled forward, squinting hard like the dark was playing tricks on him. His gaze stopped on Sais lying still, then moved to Cromus’s sweat-covered face. Finally, his sharp eyes locked onto Athas, who was curled up on Cromus’s lap. The Asalisk raised its head, its crocodilian eyes blinking slowly, tail curling lazily around Cromus’s leg.

  The younger goblins gawked, their mouths hanging open as they stared at Athas’s muscular body and sharp claws.

  “Hey!” Cromus barked, sharper than he meant, as the Shaman poked Sais with his stick. “Don’t do that—he’s alive!”

  The Shaman’s brow arched, but he didn’t back off. “Hmph. Just makin’ sure. Don’t wanna waste my energy on somethin’ dead. But he looks fine. That your doin’?”

  Cromus nodded, exhaling heavily. “Yeah. Used a weak heal. A few times.”

  The younger goblins gasped like Cromus had just punched a mountain. Their eyes darted between Cromus and the Shaman. “A few times?” two of them squeaked together.

  The Shaman nodded slowly, his face thoughtful. “Lucky. That’s what you two are.”

  “Lucky?” Cromus frowned, his tired mind struggling to keep up. “What’re you talking about? Loose already saw me using skills.”

  “Skills ain’t normal,” the Shaman grunted, leaning harder on his stick. “Not for us. Only me and Red Fist got anythin’ close. Even the big orcs don’t do stuff like that.”

  The mention of Red Fist made the younger goblins shift nervously, their wide eyes showing their fear. Loose Tooth scowled, puffing his chest again. “Well, Cromus is way better than Red Fist. Way cooler.”

  Cromus chuckled weakly, though it drained more of his strength. Athas stretched lazily, his thick legs shifting as he yawned, exposing his jagged teeth. The younger goblins squealed and backed away, their fascination mixed with fear.

  “What is that thing?” one of the younger goblins asked, pointing a shaky finger at Athas.

  The Shaman squinted, stroking his chin. “An Asalisk,” he muttered, his voice reverent. “I thought so.” He turned to Cromus, his tone low and serious. “That’s no normal beast, Cromus. Asalisks are rare. Dangerous. They bond strong. If you treat it right, it’ll fight for you—scare away monsters just by showin’ up.”

  Cromus looked down at Athas, who nuzzled against his side, his soft skin warm to the touch. “This little guy? He doesn’t seem dangerous.”

  “Not yet,” the Shaman said, wagging his finger. “But give him time. Take care of him, and you’ll have a friend stronger than any weapon.”

  Cromus smiled faintly, resting his hand on Athas’s head, just behind the curved horns. “He’s already a good friend. I’ll take care of him.”

  The Shaman hobbled over to the snake-man’s body, crouching low to inspect the lifeless Naga. His fingers brushed over the scales. “A Naga,” he muttered. “Tough fight, huh?”

  Cromus nodded, his body sagging more against the wall. “Yeah. That thing didn’t let up. Fast and relentless.”

  The Shaman straightened, leaning heavy on his stick. “Naga are no joke. They’re smart. Strong. Lucky it didn’t eat you.”

  Cromus ran his fingers over Athas’s back spikes, his voice quiet. “I had to tap into a core. Absorbed it. Gave me enough strength to fight back.”

  The Shaman’s gaze sharpened. “Core absorption? Risky business, that. Most folks get swallowed by the power. But you—” He tapped his stick against the ground. “You’re sittin’ here. Means you’re tougher than most.”

  “Or just stupid lucky,” Cromus said with a faint smile.

  The Shaman snorted. “Maybe both.” He pointed his stick at the Naga. “That thing wasn’t here for fun. Naga catch folk—sell ‘em, use ‘em, whatever. Looks like it was workin’ with the Croakers.”

  Cromus sighed heavily. “Great. More things trying to kill me.”

  The Shaman chuckled darkly. “Don’t take it light, Cromus. You did good, but trouble ain’t done with you yet. Rest while you can.”

  The Shaman shuffled back to the other goblins, leaving Cromus slumped against the wall. He exhaled, stroking Athas’s head again. The Asalisk let out a low, contented rumble, its thick tail thumping softly against the stone floor.

  Athas softly, nuzzling against his hand. Cromus chuckled, his fatigue momentarily forgotten. “At least I’ve found you Athas.”

  Cromus absently stroked Athas, the repetitive motion a soothing wave against the weight of his exhaustion. His thoughts were a haze, drifting aimlessly as he leaned back against the cavern wall. He didn’t notice the faint flicker at the edge of his vision—a notification buried beneath the others.

  For a moment, the red-glowing text pulsed, growing brighter before a tendril of inky black mist began to coil around it. The gas writhed unnaturally, moving with a sinister purpose as it enveloped the notification entirely. The faint glow vanished, swallowed whole, and the black mist dissipated as if it had never been there.

  Cromus remained oblivious, his focus locked on the steady rise and fall of Athas’s scaled body. The weight of the creature in his lap was grounding, a tether to the moment that kept the creeping unease just out of reach. Whatever had happened within his HUD went unnoticed