Three months to the day.
Mike Reeves sat on the roof of his shelter in Crafter's Haven, watching the sun set over the distant hills. The calendar he'd scratched into the stone wall of his underground chamber marked ninety days since his arrival in this world. Three months of survival, adaptation, building, and preparation.
Three months without hearing Sarah's voice or seeing Jeremy's smile.
"Happy anniversary to me," he muttered, taking a sip from his water skin.
In that time, Crafter's Haven had been transformed. What began as crumbling ruins now stood as a fortified compound, with reinforced walls, defensive positions, and a network of underground chambers that provided both living space and workshops. The trap remained in the largest chamber, its energy pulsing in steady rhythm, waiting for its intended prey.
Three months without the Void Ripper.
After all the urgency of gathering components and building the trap, the predator had simply... vanished. No roars in the night, no sightings during Mike's cautious scouting expeditions, no sign that the creature still prowled the territories surrounding Crafter's Haven. Had it moved on to different hunting grounds? Had it somehow sensed the threat and deliberately avoided the area?
Whatever the reason, the extended absence had gradually shifted from relief to frustration. The trap was ready. Mike was ready. The waiting had become its own form of torture.
"Maybe it's time to be proactive," Mike said to himself as darkness fell completely.
The thought had been growing in his mind for weeks. Rather than waiting passively for the Void Ripper to return, perhaps he should take steps to attract it. Draw it deliberately to Crafter's Haven, where the trap waited in optimal position.
Mike had spent the past week preparing for this possibility. The trap had been carefully disassembled and rebuilt in a strategic location at the center of the ruins—an open plaza where multiple approach paths converged, offering the Void Ripper several routes that all led to the same triggering zone. The surrounding buildings provided observation posts and emergency shelter if things went wrong.
Most importantly, Mike had devised a lure system using the boom sap explosives. A series of controlled detonations, spaced at increasing proximity to Crafter's Haven, might simulate the sounds of combat or distress that would draw a predator's attention. The Void Ripper had appeared during the goblin assault months ago—perhaps it was attracted to chaos and vulnerability.
"Tomorrow," Mike decided, climbing down from his rooftop perch. "No more waiting."
Sleep came fitfully that night, his mind cycling through the plan's details, identifying potential weaknesses, mentally rehearsing responses to various scenarios. By dawn, Mike was already awake and making final preparations for what he had come to think of as Operation Fishing—casting a lure for the most dangerous predator this world had to offer.
The day passed in methodical activity. Mike positioned smaller sap bombs at intervals radiating outward from Crafter's Haven, each connected to a system of fuses that would allow sequential detonation from a safe distance. The timing would be crucial—each explosion slightly larger than the last, creating an impression of escalating conflict that would draw the Void Ripper toward the trap's location.
By late afternoon, everything was in place. Mike stood at his primary observation post, surveying the completed preparations. The trap sat in the central plaza, its jaws open wide, obsidian teeth gleaming in the fading sunlight, crystals pulsing with internal energy. The trigger mechanism had been calibrated carefully, sensitive enough to activate when the Void Ripper stepped into the kill zone but stable enough to avoid premature closure.
"Here goes nothing," Mike said, lighting the first fuse.
The initial explosion came from nearly a mile away, a hollow boom that echoed across the landscape. Mike waited precisely two minutes before igniting the second fuse, triggering a slightly larger detonation half a mile out. The pattern continued—each blast closer and more powerful than the last, creating a sequence that seemed to converge on Crafter's Haven.
As twilight deepened into true darkness, Mike triggered the final external explosion, this one just beyond the outer perimeter of the ruins. The sound was impressive, reverberating through the ancient stonework and sending dust cascading from cracked walls. Now came the waiting—the hardest part of all.
Hours passed with no response. The night grew deeper, stars appearing in unfamiliar patterns overhead. Mike maintained his vigilance, moving between observation posts, checking the trap's status, watching all approaches to the ruins with obsessive attention. Nothing moved in the darkness. No roars answered his explosive invitation.
"Maybe it's really gone," Mike muttered as midnight approached, disappointment settling over him like a physical weight.
He was considering abandoning the watch until morning when he felt it—a subtle vibration through the stone beneath his feet. Not an earthquake, but something rhythmic. Impact tremors. Footsteps. Heavy, deliberate, and approaching from the north.
Mike's pulse quickened, adrenaline flooding his system as his body recognized what his mind had been anticipating for months. He moved to his primary observation post, a reinforced section of wall with clear sightlines to all approaches and the trap in the central plaza.
The vibrations grew stronger, more distinct. Then, carried on the night air, came the sound he had both dreaded and longed to hear—the metal-tearing roar of the Void Ripper, closer than he had ever experienced it before. The sound seemed to bypass his ears entirely, resonating directly in his bones, triggering primal fear responses that three months of preparation couldn't entirely suppress.
"It's coming," Mike whispered, his mouth suddenly dry.
The roar came again, closer still, followed by the unmistakable sound of stone crumbling—the outer perimeter wall on the northern approach being breached by something too powerful to be deterred by mere barriers. Mike could hear trees snapping, rubble being displaced, the physical world being casually rearranged by a force that recognized no meaningful resistance.
Sweat beaded on Mike's forehead despite the cool night air. His hands trembled slightly as he gripped the edge of the observation position. The measured confidence he had felt during preparations now seemed naïve in the face of the approaching reality. This was the creature that had effortlessly slaughtered the elf and dwarf during his first day in this world, that had driven the goblin forces into terrified retreat, that had haunted his nightmares for three months.
And it was almost here.
The first visual confirmation came as a shadow moving between buildings on the northern edge of the ruins—a massive silhouette blacker than the surrounding darkness, flowing with unnatural smoothness despite its size. Multiple limbs extended from its central mass, some touching the ground, others waving above and to the sides like sensory appendages. The Void Ripper had arrived at Crafter's Haven.
Mike forced himself to breathe normally, to control the instinctive panic that threatened to overwhelm rational thought. Everything depended on the next few minutes—on the Void Ripper approaching the trap from the correct angle, on the trigger mechanism functioning as designed, on the trap itself being powerful enough to neutralize this apex predator.
The creature paused, multiple limbs twitching as if tasting the air or sensing vibrations. Its head—if the front portion of its body could be called that—swiveled with mechanical precision, scanning the ruins. For a moment, Mike was certain it had detected his presence, that it was looking directly at his observation post with whatever sensory organs it possessed.
Then it moved again, flowing toward the central plaza with that same unsettling grace, its bulk somehow negotiating the narrow passages between buildings without slowing or seeming to adjust its course. It was heading directly for the trap, following the path Mike had hoped it would take.
"That's it," Mike breathed, scarcely daring to hope. "Just a little further."
The Void Ripper entered the plaza, its full form now visible in the starlight. Larger than Mike had remembered, its body was a nightmare assemblage of attributes that shouldn't coexist—insectoid limbs attached to a central mass that seemed partially solid and partially gaseous, constantly shifting between states. What looked like eyes studded its surface randomly, blinking independently of each other. Most disturbing were the tears in its form—ragged holes that showed not internal organs but patches of absolute darkness, absences in reality itself.
It approached the trap cautiously, multiple limbs extending to probe the strange device in its path. The crystals pulsed more rapidly in response to its proximity, their blue-white light reflecting off the obsidian teeth and creating eerie patterns across the plaza floor.
Mike held his breath. The Void Ripper was directly over the trigger mechanism now, its main body mass perfectly positioned between the waiting jaws. Any moment, the pressure plate would activate, the tension system would release, and the obsidian teeth would snap closed on their target.
The trap remained open.
Confusion turned to alarm as Mike realized something was wrong. The Void Ripper stood in the perfect position, but the trigger hadn't activated. The mechanical system that had worked flawlessly in tests had failed at the crucial moment.
The notification appeared before him: [MANUAL ACTIVATION REQUIRED].
"No," Mike whispered, understanding the terrible implication. Someone would need to approach the trap and trigger it physically—placing themselves mere feet from the Void Ripper in the process.
The creature continued its examination of the device, limbs prodding with increasing interest. It wouldn't remain in position much longer. The opportunity was slipping away with each passing second.
Mike made his decision. Grabbing his hammer and several sap bombs from his supply cache, he descended from the observation post as quietly as possible. There was a secondary trigger mechanism—a manual release lever concealed in the stonework about ten feet from the trap itself. If he could reach it without being detected...
Moving from shadow to shadow, Mike approached the plaza. The Void Ripper remained focused on the trap, its attention apparently fixed on the pulsing crystals and strange energies emanating from the device. Twenty yards separated Mike from the manual trigger. Then fifteen. Then ten.
A stone shifted beneath his foot, producing a tiny sound that seemed deafening in the tense silence.
The Void Ripper froze, all movement ceasing for one terrible moment. Then, with impossible speed, it spun toward Mike, multiple limbs tensing for attack, those strange tears in its form widening as if in anticipation.
Their eyes met across the plaza—or rather, dozens of the creature's eyes fixed on Mike's two. Recognition seemed to pass between them, predator and prey acknowledging each other directly for the first time.
The Void Ripper roared, the sound physically painful at this proximity, and lunged.