Ryder's boots dug into the cracked concrete, driving him forward.
All his weight and momentum slammed into the heavy shield as it connected squarely with the staggering living corpse.
THUD!
The impact was solid, jarring his arm. He drove the creature backward the last couple of steps, smashing it hard against the section of outpost wall with the peeling, rippling camouflage paint.
A sharp sizzle cut through the air, followed by a grinding, wet tearing sound.
Where the corpse hit, the faded camo pattern dissolved like wet paper, revealing the strange surface beneath. It flowed and crackled with faint energy, sickly strands of light reaching out and wrapping around the rusted armor and the desiccated flesh pressed into it.
The living corpse gave one final, trembling jerk, a rattling gasp escaping its helm, before going still.
The wall seemed to absorb the energy bleeding from it, the blackish-green smoke vanishing into the churning surface. Within seconds, the organic parts seemed to break down, absorbed or disintegrated by the wall itself.
What remained wasn't pretty: twisted pieces of rusted plate armor and warped metal fragments that might have once been bone supports, all fused directly into the now-hardening wall surface like morbid decorations.
The massive greatsword, dropped during the impact, seemed to melt into a pool of useless, cooling slag on the floor before dissolving completely.
The immediate threat was finally over.
Ryder stepped back, lowering the shield, the muscles in his arm and shoulder screaming from the repeated impacts and the final charge.
He took deep, ragged breaths. The air was still thick with the smell of stale rations, burnt lubricant, and now something faintly metallic and sharp from the wall.
He leaned heavily against the edge of the makeshift counter, catching his breath as the adrenaline began to fade, leaving behind a deep, bone-weary exhaustion. Every muscle fiber felt strained.
[HOSTILE ENTITY NEUTRALIZED: CORPSEBOUND KNIGHT] [POINTS AWARDED: +350 Points]
[CURRENT POINTS: 750]
Three-fifty points. He'd definitely earned those. He felt the drain now, running on empty.
He grunted, pushing himself upright slightly and bringing up the system interface projected in his vision.
He scrolled quickly past weapon diagnostics and Betsy's status to the 'Consumables' tab and found what he needed.
'Stamina Patch - Basic'. Cost: 100 Points. It looked like the best option available.
He selected 'Confirm Purchase'.
[POINTS DEDUCTED: -100] [CURRENT POINTS: 650] [ITEM PURCHASED: STAMINA PATCH (BASIC) x1]
A small, square, foil-backed patch materialized in his right hand with a faint shimmer. It looked vaguely like a standard issue med-patch, but thinner.
He peeled off the backing and slapped it onto his neck, high on the shoulder.
For a second, nothing happened.
Then, a tingling warmth spread outwards from the patch, sinking into his skin, followed a moment later by a noticeable surge of clean energy, like mainlining a high-energy electrolyte drink.
His head cleared, the spots in his vision faded, and the crushing fatigue from the encounter eased considerably.
Though his muscles still ached, the feeling of imminent collapse finally receded.
"Ah..." Ryder sighed, rolling his neck. "Much better. Like hitting the aid station after a long patrol."
"Spend those points wisely, hotshot," Betsy's voice sounded pleased. "Never know when you'll need another boost, or maybe somethin' with a bit more firepower."
Ryder nodded. This wasn't the time to admire the wall art or analyze the System yet.
He gave Rigg, who was still peeking wide-eyed from behind the locker, a short nod. Time to move.
Ryder straightened up fully, feeling the lingering warmth from the patch chasing away the aches. He gripped his blade and shield again, the familiar weight reassuring.
He glanced one last time at the embedded wreckage, then turned towards the fake supply room doors where the wall had done its weird dissolving act. That seemed like the only way forward now.
Rigg scrambled out from behind the locker, casting a final, wary look at the remains fused to the wall, then hurried to follow Ryder, glow-rod held high again.
They pushed through the swinging doors – which felt surprisingly solid despite the mimicry – and stepped out of the unsettling wannabe outpost.
The environment changed instantly and drastically.
The flickering lights, the greasy smell, and the buzzing music were all gone.
They were back in a section of the anomaly's sterile metal corridor, the kind that felt like the inside of some giant, forgotten machine.
But this section was heavily damaged.
Cracks spiderwebbed across the smooth walls, floor, and ceiling; some were hairline thin, others wide enough to stick a fist in.
Snaking out from these cracks and covering huge sections of the metal surface were thick, dark, fleshy roots. They pulsed with a faint, slow, inner light—a sickly bioluminescence that did little to pierce the gloom.
The roots seemed to be actively consuming the metal, burrowing into it, integrating with it, and replacing the sterile structure with something organic and invasive.
The air grew heavy, damp, and filled with an earthy, fungal smell that reminded Ryder vaguely of damp, rotting sandbags, mixed with something else... something vaguely like spoiled meat.
Rigg's glow-rod light seemed to be noticeably dimmer here again, the darkness punctuated only by the faint pulsing of the roots themselves.
The sterile silence of the anomaly was gone too, replaced by a faint, wet, squelching sound—a rhythmic pulsing that seemed to echo the light within the roots.
They moved forward cautiously, the root-choked corridor forcing them into single file in places.
Thinner, dangling roots brushed against Ryder's shoulders and arms like dead fingers. He used the tip of his blade to carefully push aside a curtain of the thinner roots blocking the path, eyeing the thick, trunk-like ones snaking across the floor and walls warily.
They looked disturbingly like veins or arteries, pulsing slowly.
"Place is turning into some kind of bio-hazard zone," he muttered, stepping carefully over a thick root bulging from the floor.
"Garden of nightmares, maybe," Betsy replied. "System's pickin' up weird signatures from these things. Somethin' about 'em feels real grabby. Maintain standoff distance, Ryder."
Rigg stopped near a particularly thick root snaking across the wall at chest height. It was dark brown, almost black, with a slick, leathery texture. He leaned in close, observing the faint pulse traveling along its length, his eyes narrowed in concentration.
After a moment, he pulled back quickly, looking unsettled.
"They ain't like any blight I ever seen back home," he whispered, his voice hushed with unease. "Blight kills things. This is... different. It's growing. Alive in the wrong way."
"Let's keep moving. Eyes open."
They pressed on, the corridor twisting slightly. Ahead, the oppressive walls seemed to fall away as the tight passage suddenly opened up into a much larger space: a wide cavern.
It was worse in here.
The cavern was completely choked with the same type of fleshy roots, covering the floor, the walls, and the ceiling in a dense, pulsating, living mass. It was like standing inside the corrupted heart of some colossal organism.
As they took a hesitant step into the cavern, movement began within the tangled root masses ahead and to the sides.
With wet, tearing sounds, human-like shapes pulled themselves free from the throbbing, living mass.
They were made crudely of dark wood tied together with thick, meaty roots, looking like giant, walking bunches of evil plants.
They groaned, their stiff limbs creaking, moving with a shambling, relentless gait. Empty spaces in their "heads" glowed faintly with the same sickly light as the roots.
[NEW HOSTILE SIGNATURES DETECTED: ROOTBOUND THRALL (x3)]
Three of the things turned their blank, glowing faces towards Ryder and Rigg and began advancing out of the root mass.
Their arms were outstretched, some dragging root "legs," others with thorny root-tendrils extending from their malformed bodies like grasping claws.
Ryder quickly planted his feet on a relatively clear patch of root-covered floor, shield coming up just as the first Thrall got within striking distance.
These things moved slowly, but their reach was deceptive, and the tangled floor was treacherous.
He launched a wide, horizontal sweep with his blade, slicing through the first Thrall's grasping tendrils and knocking its crude arm aside.
He then followed through with a heavy shield bash forward into its chest, sending it staggering back into the pulsing roots with a crackle of breaking wood.
Before he could fully recover, the second Thrall was already on him, swinging a thick, club-like root limb.
Meanwhile, Rigg, though visibly terrified by the groaning, shambling figures, didn't freeze.
His eyes darted around, landing on a loose piece of twisted metal debris near the cavern wall. Thinking quickly, he scrambled over to it, pulled out his utility knife, and started banging the hilt rhythmically against the metal.
CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!
The sharp, metallic noise cut through the wet squelching, and immediately drew the attention of the third Thrall, which had been lumbering towards Ryder's exposed flank.
Its head swiveled towards the sound, and it began to change direction, shambling towards Rigg instead.
Rigg dodged back, keeping the noise going, his eyes wide but focused.
Seeing it worked, he scooped up a loose stone with his free hand and hurled it at the Thrall, smacking it hard in the knee joint.
Good initiative from the kid. These walking weeds were definitely less durable than the armored corpse.
The creature stumbled, its already awkward gait faltering, giving Rigg space and buying Ryder precious seconds as he dealt with the second one now right in front of him.
"Alright, look alive! Time for some heavy pruning!" Betsy's voice crackled with energy. "Keep 'em off Rigg! Don't let 'em corner the kid!"
Ryder grunted, batting aside the second Thrall's clumsy swing with his shield before bringing his blade down hard on its "shoulder," severing the limb with a wet crunch.
It barely seemed to notice the damage and just kept pressing forward, forcing Ryder back another step.
He didn't give it another chance, sidestepping its lunge and driving his blade point-first through the center of its root-woven torso.
The creature shuddered violently, the faint light within it extinguished, and collapsed into a heap of dead wood and vines.
He immediately spun towards the third Thrall, the one Rigg was keeping occupied near the wall.
The kid was doing a good job, banging on the metal debris and dodging the creature's slow, grasping swipes, but he wouldn't last forever.
The Thrall, still hampered by the rock Rigg had pegged it with, turned awkwardly as Ryder approached.
Ryder charged forward, shield high, slamming into the stumbling Thrall with another heavy bash.
The sound of splintering wood echoed in the cavern as the third creature crumpled under the impact, falling apart into loose roots and deadwood that quickly stilled.
Silence, for a heartbeat.
Ryder stood panting, blade dripping slightly, shield arm aching. He glanced at Rigg, who had stopped banging on the metal and was breathing heavily, eyes wide.
But the silence didn't last.
He could hear it now – more wet, tearing sounds echoing from deeper in the cavern, louder this time, multiplied.
A wave of dread washed over him.
[WARNING: MULTIPLE HOSTILE SIGNATURES DETECTED - ESCALATING]
More groaning shapes were pulling themselves free from the roots along the walls, their faint lights bobbing like malevolent swamp gas in the oppressive dimness.
Not just a few—dozens more pairs of those faint, glowing eyes ignited in the darkness all around them, covering the caverns with their hungry lights.
A tide of corrupted wood and hungry roots was rising from the dark, sealing off the way forward.
They were surrounded.