Level-Up Apocalypse: Surviving With The Assimilation System

It was impossible to decipher exactly where that wicked cackling came from, listening as it sounded in front of him, then to the left, or even above, always seeming to change.

"Charlotte! Anyone–!?" Finn shouted again.

As he forced the call from his throat, something responded; he sensed a force erupt from the shadows in front of him, only a split-second before it arrived. The laughter intensified as he witnessed a bony, pale hand reach out to an unnatural length.

It grabbed his outstretched arm by the wrist, causing him to stiffen up, frozen as he was left utterly perplexed at just what had taken hold of him.

Suddenly, with a single tug–

Snap.

"Nng–"

Finn winced, withholding a scream as his left arm was snapped by such a simple motion, as if the hand from the darkness was breaking a mere toy. The first action in his mind was to ignore the pain, setting his sights on retaliating against the one that laughed in the shadows.

As he took a single step forward, his blood ran cold again as his reflexes picked up "something."

The laughter heightened against his ears as he felt a warmth at his neck that quickly bubbled into a painful, scorching sensation.

Within a moment, he felt himself choking, though didn't know what as his mind ran amok. He could feel that red-hot warmth seeping from his throat, dripping onto his coat before he grabbed his neck in a panic.

'My throat–my throat–is it cut?' He somehow managed to scramble a coherent thought together.

The feeling of ceaseless choking confirmed it for him as he spit out blood, feeling his strength fading by the moment as he stumbled. Everything seemed to spin around as he clutched his throat, feeling the blood unable to stop gushing like an overflowing river.

Tears swelled in his eyes as it felt as though he drowned in his own blood, panicking as he patted down his own body in a hurry as his life leaked out, losing it by the second.

That laughter intensified as if witnessing the greatest joke the world has known as the young man rummaged through his pockets in a bloodied panic.

He felt beneath his coat, quickly reaching under as he hurriedly retrieved what was stored: the vastly valuable vial of golden liquid. As he scrambled to take the cork out, the blood that stained his hands made the bottle slip right out of his hands–

"Rrrgh!--" Finn let out a gargle, moving his hands in a panic.

As he watched it descend towards the ground, a miracle guided his fingers to lace around it before it could shatter.

Only one thought repeated in his mind–"Drink it."

He fell to his knees, clutching the bottle as though it were his own child as he carefully brought the top to his lips, tilting his head back to welcome the all-healing substance. As he brought it past his lips and swallowed, he encountered a problem–

His body refused to swallow, as his own blood filled his throat, drowning in it. The act of swallowing, or the mere intent of it, only brought him to spit out both the ambrosia and blood.

"Pyuh!--"

The rejection of the healing liquid made his heart throb with further intensity and his mind to swirl in a nauseating panic. Something when staring at the rocky floor as his blood puddled up as his knees made him stop for a moment and think; through the quick loss of his life essence, he found himself able to focus.

'I'm fine–I'm fine,' he assured himself.

As he choked on his blood, he tilted his head back again and took another sip from the divine ambrosia. This time, he forced his body to swallow, bypassing his own reflex. He ended up with a mix of his own blood in the concoction as the warmth spread itself through his body.

"Gaaah…!"

He exhaled sharply as the wound on his throat mended itself, bringing him to spit out the blood that sat in his throat. Even as he felt his neck and the cut against it gone, it took a moment for him to calm down as his heart was still pounding against his chest.

'Light…We need light–that's what the note meant, didn't it?' He thought as he picked himself back up.

The laughter was still there and his companions unseen in the darkness, though he was certain they were close. He drew in a breath to focus himself as his mind tried to find itself in a panic even as he composed himself, holding his hand out as grabbed his snapped elbow before giving it a quick, violent tug–pop.

Luckily, it was only put out of place, allowing for him to put it right back, not even feeling it as his mind was throttled by adrenaline. He shook his hand, feeling out his arm before focusing intently on what laid ahead.

["Lesser Shadow Recon"] [4:59]

A pulse emitted from his palm, pushing through the blinding darkness akin to echolocation. It immediately bounced back to him, discovering somebody just a few steps ahead.

As he walked towards where he felt feedback, he looked back as multiple sets of arms reached out from the dark.

"Nrgh!—"

Finn spun himself around, quickly slashing his dagger at the hands that sank through the shadows. As he kept through them, lobbing fingers off and slicing through the palms, more limbs sprouted from the darkness.

'Shit—it's unending!' He thought.

Stumbling away, he found his back smacking right against something solid.

As he spun himself around with his dagger ready, he found himself clashing his blade against steel. Sparks briefly hissed in the dark as he found himself staring at the one who swung the sword.

"Charlotte?—" Finn gasped out.

"Finn?" The young woman realized, breathing out. "Sorry, I didn't know—"

"It's fine…I didn't realize either," he brushed off the apology.

It didn't take much more than a glance to see the anxiety written on Charlotte's face as she looked around, clutching her sword with both hands.

He knew he was likely in the same shape, feeling paranoia swelling in his mind as the laughter continued to echo from the unseen.

"This laughing…It's like it's grating against the inside of my head," Charlotte said with a groan, holding her head.

Finn grabbed her arm to reassure her, "Hey, it's fine—look at me. This thing, whatever it is, it's trying to mess with us."

"I know, but—" Charlotte said, shaking her head.

"Just stay focused. I'm right here—I'm not going anywhere. Let's find the others," Finn assured her. "I need you to use an infusion to create light, alright? If you do that, we should be fine."

"Are you sure?" Charlotte asked hesitantly.

Even while conversing with her, he constantly checked over his shoulder as the laughter along with sounds of fingers tapping and chains chiming around the tucked-away cavern met his ears.

"I think that lantern was what kept whatever it is in here at bay–" Finn whispered before spinning around.

It was at the dangle of a chain right behind him that he found himself approached from behind; hands emerged from the shadows as if piercing a veil. He knocked his wrist guards together, creating a "ring" that produced a scarlet coating to his body.

["Reaper Time activated."] [4:59]

There were countless hands that emerged from the suffocating dark, some wielding rusty knives and dull blades, others simply grabbing at him from all directions. Everything seemed to move slightly slower as his pupils dilated, while feeling his body move faster.

It wasn't just that; he felt flexible and free, feeling as though his blades were extensions of himself as he cut through the maddening limbs.

["Death Flurry"] [2:59]

He rapidly moved his blades while spinning around, unleashing dozens of slashes across a single moment to repel the accursed flesh. The dance of killing prowess cut through the numbers, though it wasn't enough as from below, hands reached out of the ground.

They grabbed onto him, digging their nails into his skin and clawing at his legs and waist with that putrid laughter playing against his ears.

"Finn!--" Charlotte called out from behind.

"Use the infusion now! Hurry!" Finn shouted, gritting his teeth as he used his daggers to sever the fingers that dug into his skin.

As he used two daggers to cut away at the fingers that cling to him, he saw something ahead in the grueling darkness.

It was hard to decipher, as it was mostly kept within the black, yet it appeared to be the outline of a face. Loosely resembling a person, distorted and uncanny; it brought his blood to a chill.

He couldn't avert his eyes, as if seeing that face of hollow eyes and an opened mouth froze his body. It felt as if his heart was gripped, squeezed before—

The shade was pushed back as a radiance swept through like the rise of dawn amidst the darkest night.

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