Alex checked his phone for the tenth ti. 11:43 PM. Seventeen minutes to reach Warehouse 13.
He could make it. Probably.
His body had other opinions.
Every step felt like walking through wet cent. His legs trembled. His vision blurred at the edges. The arm the wolf had torn throbbed even through the bandages.
[HP: 340/640]
[MP: 180/330]
[Status: Exhausted (severe) - All stats reduced 40%]
[WARNING: Rest recomnded or risk of collapse]
"I’m fine," he murmured to Grim, who walked beside him in his one-ter form. The skeleton kept shifting height—one ter, then 80 centiters, then a ter and a half—as if he was restless.
Or worried.
"I just... just need to get to this eting. Hear what they have to say. Then I can sleep for—"
The world tilted.
Alex didn’t even realize he was falling until his knee hit the pavent. Pain exploded but felt distant, like it was happening to soone else.
[HP: 320/640]
[CRITICAL WARNING: Exhaustion collapse imminent]
"Shit..." He tried to get up. His arms wouldn’t respond properly. "Grim... I..."
The streetlights began to blur. His vision tunneled.
Vaguely, he heard sounds around him—footsteps, voices. Soone said sothing about "another addict collapsing." Soone else laughed.
No one stopped to help. This was the Lower City. You didn’t get involved in other people’s problems.
The last thing he saw before darkness claid him was Grim—
Growing.
Fast.
[Ergency Transformation: Latent → Awakened]
[Cost: All remaining MP]
[MP: 0/330]
The two-and-a-half-ter form materialized in the middle of the street. Pedestrians scread, scattering. The massive scythe blazed with crimson light.
Grim crouched, lifting Alex’s unconscious body with surprising gentleness for sothing made of bones and dark armor.
*"Master... rest. I... will take you... ho." *
The skeleton moved. Not walking—too slow. Sothing between a sprint and ghostly gliding, shadows seeming to cling to his form, making him blurry and indistinct.
He crossed three kiloters in eight minutes.
No one who saw him clearly survived with their mory intact—Grim made sure of that, [Tomb’s Fear] pulsing toward anyone who looked too long, erasing thoughts, leaving only vague terror.
He reached Alex’s apartnt building. Climbed the stairs—still holding Alex like he weighed nothing—to 4B.
The door was locked.
Grim looked at it for a mont. Then he simply... walked through it.
He didn’t break it. Didn’t open it.
Passed through the solid wood like it was mist, carrying Alex with him.
He placed his master on the mattress. Stood there for a long mont, crimson lights watching Alex’s chest rise and fall.
*"You... work. Too hard. You... will hurt yourself. Permanently." *
Alex didn’t respond. Unconscious deeply.
Grim shrank back to Latent form—couldn’t maintain Awakened without MP, and Alex’s body was already drained.
The tiny skeleton (currently 80 centiters) settled on the windowsill.
Watching.
Waiting.
Around 3:17 AM, Grim noticed sothing.
A piece of paper. Sliding under the door.
There had been no footsteps in the hallway. No sound of anyone approaching.
The paper simply... appeared.
Grim got down from the windowsill, approached. Picked up the paper with bony fingers.
He couldn’t read—at least not in this form. But he could feel the energy in the ink. Blood magic. Barely detectable but definitely there.
He left it on Alex’s chest and returned to his post.
---
Alex woke with sunlight burning his eyes and pain in every joint.
[HP: 480/640]
[MP: 200/330]
[Status: Rested - Exhaustion penalties removed]
He sat up slowly, groaning. What...?
mories returned in fragnts. Walking to the Harbor District. Collapsing. Grim transforming—
"Shit." He rubbed his face. "You brought ho?"
Grim, sitting on the windowsill in his one-ter form, tilted his skull. Yes.
"Thanks." Alex actually ant it. "I’m an idiot. I should have rested first."
Sothing crinkled beneath him. He looked down.
A paper. Handwritten note in ink that looked slightly... red? Brown?
Blood. The ink was blood.
Alex read it:
---
"You fell asleep, didn’t you? How adorable.
Bad boys don’t get enough sleep, sweetheart. Your skeleton had to drag you ho like a fainting princess. I watched the whole thing—pretty dramatic, 10/10 performance.
Next ti I offer you a midnight date, try showing up CONSCIOUS. See you soon.
- R
P.S. Your skeleton needs a better na. ’Grim’ is so... predictable. How about ’Bones’? ’Mr. Clicks’? ’Death Jr’?
P.P.S. Better locks wouldn’t stop soone like , so don’t bother. But it was sweet how your little friend stayed up all night watching your door. Loyal bodyguard. I like it."
---
Alex read the note three tis.
"She..." he began. "She saw collapse. Saw you transform. Followed you here. And ca into my apartnt while I was sleeping."
Grim tilted his head. The red lights flickered. Yes. And I didn’t detect her.
"That’s..." Alex didn’t know whether to be terrified or impressed. "That’s really unsettling."
He looked at Grim.
"Mr. Clicks?"
The skeleton shrank to 80 centiters. If he could growl, he probably would have.
Alex laughed despite himself—a rough sound he hadn’t made in days. "Okay, you’re sticking with Grim. But if she keeps calling you ’Death Jr,’ that’s not my fault."
He got up, checking his status. Fully rested, finally. Ready to—
His phone vibrated. Adventurer’s Guild notification:
NEW MISSIONS AVAILABLE - IRON CLASSIFICATION
Ti to work.
Ti to build reputation.
Ti to beco strong enough that when the Temple ca, when Raven reappeared, whenever the Ancient Gods decided to act—
Alex showered—well, stood under the lukewarm trickle his broken shower provided—and changed into clean clothes. Or as clean as he had, considering his wardrobe consisted of three t-shirts, two pairs of jeans, and the morgue work jumpsuit.
While dressing, he checked the Guild mission board on his phone. The app was basic but functional—list of available jobs organized by rank and pay.
[AVAILABLE MISSIONS - IRON CLASSIFICATION]
Mission: Infested Basent Cleanup
Rank: E
Pay: 80 crowns
Description: "Giant rats in my basent. Maybe 5-6. Bring your own equipnt."
Risk: Low
Mission: Goods Escort
Rank: E
Pay: 120 crowns
Description: "Need protection moving boxes from dock to warehouse. 2 hours work."
Risk: Low-dium
Mission: Investigate Strange Noises
Rank: D
Pay: 200 crowns
Description: "Sothing’s making noise in my building’s attic. Probably nothing, but... scare it off for ."
Risk: dium
Mission: Clean Minor Rift - Sector 9
Rank: D
Pay: 250 crowns loot
Description: "Rift appeared near industrial zone. City won’t clean it. You do it."
Risk: dium-High
Mission: Lost Item Recovery
Rank: D
Pay: 300 crowns
Description: "My daughter lost her necklace in East Sewer Dungeon level 1. Bring photographic evidence if you find her dead."
Risk: High (active dungeon)
Alex ignored the first two missions—too safe, too slow. He needed souls, not just money.
His eyes fixed on the third and fourth. The Sector 9 rift was promising—those spots typically had 15-20 weak creatures. Maybe 3-5 total souls if he was lucky.
But the last one...
East Sewer Dungeon. A registered dungeon, not a random rift. ant structure, multiple levels, more enemies.
And no one else wanted the mission because the family couldn’t pay much and the chances of finding the girl alive were zero.
"That one," Alex decided, accepting the mission. Imdiately he received details:
[MISSION ACCEPTED: Lost Item Recovery]
Contact: Robert Chen, father
Objective: Enter East Sewer Dungeon, recover silver necklace with fox pendant (daughter: Michelle Chen, 16, missing 3 days)
Note: Family cannot afford rescue. Victim presud dead. Body recovery optional, necklace recovery primary.
Alex felt sothing twist in his chest. The bureaucratic coldness of the language. "Victim presud dead." "Body recovery optional."
A sixteen-year-old girl had entered a dungeon—probably trying to prove sothing, or desperate for money, or just stupid—and now she was just another statistic.
"Let’s go," he said to Grim. "We have work."
---
The East Sewer Dungeon was exactly as unpleasant as it sounded. The entrance was literal—an open manhole in an alley in Sector 4, with a rusty ladder descending into darkness.
A worn sign warned: ACTIVE DUNGEON - RANK E-D - ENTER AT YOUR OWN RISK
Alex checked his equipnt one last ti. Knife, three potions (bought with his last remaining crowns), flashlight. And Grim, currently in his ter-and-a-half form, scythe resting on his shoulder.
"Interdiate Form once we’re inside," Alex said. "Conserve energy until we really need it."
Grim tilted his head. Understood.
They descended.
---
The sll hit first. Sewage, mold, and sothing else sweet-putrid. Death.
Alex activated Soul Sight briefly.
[MP: 190/330]
The tunnel lit up with auras. White and faint—slis and rats, mostly. But deeper, he saw sothing brighter. Pale blue. Sothing stronger.
"Contacts ahead," he murmured. "Weak ones nearby, sothing stronger deeper."
They began the thodical cleanup.
Slis first—easy, predictable. Grim sliced them while Alex watched patterns, morizing movents.
[ 15 EXP] [ 15 EXP] [ 15 EXP]
[Souls: 96.9/1000]
Giant rats next—more aggressive but fragile. Alex even killed a few himself, gaining confidence with his knife.
[ 25 EXP] [ 25 EXP]
[Souls: 97.3/1000]
Thirty minutes into the dungeon, they found the first body.
It wasn’t Michelle Chen. It was a man, thirties, cheap adventurer gear similar to Alex’s. His guild ID tag was still on his belt: Marcus Webb, Iron Classification.
He’d died maybe a week ago. Cause of death: multiple rat bites, bled out.
"Shit," Alex whispered. Another solo adventurer, trying to survive, dying in the darkness where no one would find him.
Could have been him.
Could still be him.
"Reanimate?" he asked Grim.
The skeleton considered, then shook his head. *"Body... too. Decomposed. Wouldn’t serve. Well." *
He was right. The corpse was bloated, half-eaten by rats. Even if he could reanimate it, it would be a weak, fragile version.
They continued deeper.
---
This was where the dungeon beca more structured. The raw sewer tunnels gave way to brick chambers, so with ancient debris—rotted furniture, torn clothing, traces of people who’d used these spaces before they beca a dungeon.
And more bodies.
Two more. Both adventurers. Both dead for days.
Alex found the necklace on the third body.
Michelle Chen had made it far—farther than most would expect from a sixteen-year-old with no formal training. She was in a small chamber, curled in a corner, her body partially mummified by the dry air.
Cause of death: Multiple weapon wounds, probably from goblins.
The necklace was still around her neck—silver chain with a small fox pendant.
Alex knelt beside the body. For a long mont, he just looked.
Sixteen years old. The sa age as so of the first-year students at the Celestial Academy. Kids who had families, training, resources.
She had none of that. And she died alone in the dark.
"I’m sorry," he whispered, though she couldn’t hear him. Gently, he removed the necklace. "I’ll take you back. Your father... deserves to know."
Grim stood silently beside Alex, red lights dim in his sockets.
Alex activated one of his new abilities—one he’d been avoiding using because it felt... intrusive.
[Death’s Whisper - Activated]
[Cost: 30 MP]
[MP: 160/330]
[Ti remaining for communication: 5 minutes]
Michelle’s body glowed with faint light. Her soul—or what remained of it—manifested. Barely visible, a translucent form of a teenage girl.
"Hello?" her voice was a whisper, confused. "Where... am I dead?"
"Yes," Alex said gently. "I’m sorry."
"Oh." The pause was long. "I guess... I knew. It hurt a lot and then... nothing."
"Why did you co in here?" Alex asked. "Why alone?"
Michelle—or her soul—laughed bitterly. "Money. Dad lost his job. Mom’s sick. I thought... if I could get so dungeon loot... sell it... help."
Stupid. Brave. Tragic.
"Your father misses you," Alex said. "He sent to find your necklace."
"Mom’s necklace," Michelle whispered. "It was her mother’s. The only thing of value we had. I borrowed it for... good luck." Her form flickered. "Will you give it back? Will you say... say I’m sorry?"
"I will," Alex promised.
The form began to fade—five minutes almost up.
"Hey," Michelle’s voice was barely audible now. "That... that skeleton. It’s scary. But it’s protecting, right? Protecting you."
"Yeah," Alex said, looking at Grim.
"Good. Don’t die stupidly like . Okay?"
Then she was gone. The soul dissolved completely, passing to... wherever souls went.
Alex stayed kneeling there for another minute, the necklace clutched in his fist.
"Reanimate?" Grim asked quietly. *"Body... fresh. Enough. Would serve. Well." *
Alex looked at Michelle’s body. Could. He could raise this sixteen-year-old girl as undead, use her as cannon fodder in combat, gain tactical advantage.
The old Alex—the one from two weeks ago—would have been horrified.
The current Alex... seriously considered it.
Then he shook his head.
"No. She... she’s suffered enough. Let her rest."
Grim tilted his head. *"As. You wish. Master." *
They left level 2, leaving the three bodies where they lay. The city would eventually send recovery teams. Eventually.
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