The sewer stank of rust, rot, and magic.
Ezra sat with his back against a rusted service pipe, his fingers clutched around the hilt of a stolen dagger. The Bone Rat — the only thing he could call his — perched like a sentinel on a broken cinder block, its green eyes fixed on the shadows ahead.
It had been three hours since the system appeared. Three hours since blood soaked the pavement. Three hours since the Bone Walker rose at his command and speared a man through the thigh.
Ezra couldn't stop shaking.
It wasn't fear. It wasn't even guilt.
It was something worse: relief.
He'd Awakened.
He'd fought back.
He'd survived.
He wasn't just meat anymore.
"System Alert: Hunger status increasing. Minor penalties to Focus and Recovery."
Ezra snorted. "Great. Stats, magic rats, death… and I still need to eat."
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a mostly crushed protein bar he'd stolen last week from an unguarded vending drop. The wrapper was stained and partially moldy, but he chewed through it anyway.
The Bone Rat let out a low growl.
Ezra's eyes narrowed. "Company?"
It chirped once — a soft clicking sound — and leapt into the tunnel's shadows.
Moments later, voices echoed down the tunnel. Ezra dropped flat, heartbeat rising.
"...can't believe those assholes got smoked."
"Crimson Pike's gonna have our heads if we don't find that freak."
Ezra recognized the voices — two of the five who'd attacked him earlier. Survivors.
They were hunting him.
A flicker of fear ran through him, but he didn't move. His eyes closed, and something clicked inside him — like a door gently opening.
He could feel the death nearby.
Not just the Bone Rat.
Bones in the wall. Bones in the sludge. Bones in the forgotten corpses beneath the city.
[Skill Available: Raise Lesser Dead – Sewer Ghoul (F-Rank)]
Ezra didn't question it.
He called to the corpse beneath the nearby drainage grate. No words. Just intent.
The tunnel shook with a wet sound — bones cracking, flesh sloughing off, tendons reattaching like puppet strings.
Something rose.
A Sewer Ghoul — bigger than the Bone Walker, its flesh still clinging to it, face twisted into a canine snarl. One eye was gone. The other glowed red.
Ezra pointed at the approaching voices.
[Command Skill: Mark Prey – Activated]
The ghoul leapt into the dark like a thunderclap.
Screams echoed seconds later.
One was short.
The other gurgled.
Ezra stood slowly, approached the source.
What was left of the two men lay sprawled in a heap, steam rising from their torn torsos. Blood splattered the tunnel walls.
The Sewer Ghoul stood guard beside the bodies, twitching, waiting for orders.
Ezra's throat was dry. "I didn't… I didn't mean to kill both."
[LIE DETECTED.]
He exhaled sharply, then crouched beside the corpses. He didn't want to be this. But the world didn't leave room for soft hearts.
He'd tried soft. It got him nowhere.
"Loot them," he said quietly.
The Bone Rat returned from the shadows, dragging a utility pouch. Ezra rifled through it with a thief's efficiency.
Gained:
21 Credits
Low-grade Mana Core (F-Tier)
Iron Dagger [Durability: 14/30]
Light leather chestplate [F-Rank, Tattered]
Guild I.D. Chip (Crimson Pike, Invalid once dead)
System Alert: First Loot Recovered. Inventory Slot Unlocked. (Limit: 5)
Ezra pocketed the core, strapped the armor to his chest, and pushed the bodies into the sewer runoff.
No one would come looking for them. Slum deaths were as common as rats. As common as him.
He stared at his hand again.
Last night, it had trembled.
Now it was steady.
Two days later, Ezra made it out of the tunnels.
He emerged in South Bronx Sector 9, one of the worst slum zones in all of Rebirth City. The skyscrapers here were hollowed out, stripped of wiring and metal, transformed into gang-run bunkers or monster nests. The air carried a scent of rot and ozone — the signature of corrupted mana.
But here, even nobodies like him could hide.
He found an abandoned laundromat with a half-collapsed roof and boarded windows. The door creaked when he pushed it open, and dust danced in shafts of dying light.
The Bone Rat sniffed once, then curled up near a rusted dryer.
Ezra sat behind the counter, pulled up his Status Panel, and scrolled through it like a starving man reading a menu.
———————————————
Name: Ezra Vale
Level: 4
Rank: Rankless
Classes: [Necromancer] / [Brute]
HP: 190/190
MP: 44/44
STR: 13
VIT: 9
INT: 6
WILL: 6
AGI: 6
Luck: ???
Skills:
- Bone Armament (Lv. 2)
- Raise Lesser Dead (Lv. 1)
- Strength Surge (Lv. 1)
- Mark Prey (Lv. 1)
- First Summon (Passive)
Inventory (5/5):
- Mana Core (F)
- Iron Dagger
- Leather Chestplate
- Guild Chip (Crimson Pike, inactive)
- Rotten protein bar (partial)
———————————————
Still Rankless. But growing.
Every kill fed the system. Every survival proved the world wrong.
He leaned back and let the system fade.
That's when he heard it — footsteps.
Light. Uneven. Hesitant.
He grabbed the dagger and crouched low. The Bone Rat twitched in its sleep, then hissed and vanished into the shadows.
The door creaked.
Ezra stepped forward, blade ready—
—and stopped.
A girl stood in the doorway. Not a threat. She couldn't have been older than sixteen. Ragged hoodie. One shoe. A bruise on her cheek. Her eyes were wide, terrified.
In her hands was a rusted kitchen knife.
"I—I don't want trouble," she stammered. "I just… I saw you come in. No one's claimed this place in weeks. I thought… maybe…"
Ezra didn't lower his dagger at first. He studied her. Skinny. Malnourished. Pale from mana exposure. But alive.
"You alone?" he asked.
She nodded. "I'm not with a Guild. Not a Hunter. I'm nothing. Please don't kick me out."
Ezra stared.
So many times he'd said those words.
So many times no one listened.
The dagger lowered slowly.
"You can stay," he said. "One night."
Her knees gave out in relief. She slumped behind the counter and curled into herself.
Ezra didn't say anything else. But later, when he stood watch over the crumbling door, the girl whispered something as she drifted off to sleep.
"…thank you."
He didn't respond.
But something about those words felt heavier than any blade he'd held so far.