Universe Creation System: I Devour. I Build. I Rule!

Kael stepped out into the Brinewatch night, the forge's heat still clinging to his back like sweat. Smoke curled from Garrick's chimney, the door thunking shut behind him—sealing the deal and the danger in equal measure. The Gold Mark in his pocket was heavy, but not heavier than the knowledge that everything was about to change.

He turned toward home, toward the shack—no, their last night in that shack—and found the streets unusually quiet for the hour. A few vendors were packing up under the dim orange flicker of lanterns. The brine-soaked grit under his boots crunched as he passed Taryn's Goods.

He paused.

The lantern over Lira's shop was still lit, swaying in the breeze. For a moment, he debated walking in. He wanted to tell her. About the place in the Grays. About the deal with Garrick. About the Gold Mark and how things were finally turning. He imagined her reaction—raised eyebrow, dry smirk, maybe even a rare "good job."

His hand lifted toward the door.

That's when it hit.

A sharp, warbling howl tore across the district.

Kael froze. His blood iced.The alarm.

A second cry followed, this one deeper—more mechanical, rising into a warbling crescendo. It echoed off the shanties and metal walkways, a sound every slum rat knew: the disaster siren. It could mean a beast tide. A structural collapse. A firestorm if the pressure valves blew. Or worse.

A rampaging beast.

Kael's heart leapt into his throat. "Mom. Sera."

He ran. Lira had her father to protect her. Though he was a drunk, he was known to be a high rank talent holder. That's why no one messed with them in Brinewatch. But he had to protect his family.

His boots pounded against the uneven ground, dodging crates, trash bins, and startled children who'd been playing too close to the alleys. Already, people were shouting—some yelling for loved ones, others screaming warnings.

"Beast's loose in Sector Three!""No, TWO—it's headin' west!""I saw it tear through the South Walk! Ain't no one stoppin' it!"

Kael shoved past a stumbling drunk, then leapt over a broken pipe spewing steam. Explosions cracked in the distance—sharp pops followed by the shuddering boom of falling debris. He saw a rooftop flare erupt, painting the fog in red.

His lungs burned. He didn't care. Home wasn't far. He just had to—

WHAM.

Something struck him like a freight tram.

He didn't see it coming—just a blur of motion, a flash of heat—and then he was airborne, tumbling sideways through the air. His world twisted. Sky. Ground. Sky again.

Then impact.

Kael slammed into a crumbling stone wall, the breath blasted from his lungs. A crack snapped through his spine like a branch underfoot. Pain shot up from his tailbone, blooming like fire, but then—nothing.

His legs… weren't moving.

He tried to stand, to roll. Nothing.

He dragged in air through clenched teeth, blinking through stars. Dust choked his mouth, blood trickled into his eye. His back screamed—but worse than pain was the absence.

No feeling in his lower body. Not numb. Gone.

He looked down. His legs were still there. But they were dead weight.

Voices erupted ahead. Half-masked men—gangsters—rushed past him, weapons drawn. A few braver ones fired salvaged pistols and electrified spears. Others wielded clubs, improvised axes. Kael strained to lift his head.

Then he saw it. The thing that had hit him.

A feral beast. The size of a horse, but hunched low like a predator. Its body was corded with muscle, hide rippling like tar stretched over bone. Black fur, oily and patchy, bristled with crackling veins of orange light. Its snout ended in blunt fangs too large for its skull. Its claws gleamed with mana residue, serrated and curved like meat hooks.

It looked like a honey badger fed on toxic waste—an apex freak spawned by the slum's own sickness. Its eyes locked onto him, red and burning, intelligent in the worst possible way.

The gang members screamed. Two rushed forward with shock-rods. The beast lunged—a blur of muscle and madness.

Carnage.

Kael watched, helpless, as one was gutted instantly, blood spraying across the wall behind him. The second didn't even get to scream—just vanished beneath a crushing pounce and a sickening crunch. Two more fired into it, but their shots ricocheted or sizzled into its hide. It moved like smoke and thunder, ripping the last man in half with a twist of its jaws.

Silence fell.

Then it turned toward Kael.

It padded over the corpses, steaming breath flaring in the cold night. Its lips curled back, blood still dripping from its muzzle.

Kael's arms braced against the dirt, trying to crawl backward. He couldn't. His legs wouldn't budge. The ground scraped his palms raw. His body screamed. His talent—why wasn't it activating?!

Panic flooded him. This was it. This was how it ended.

The beast loomed. Its jaw opened wide.

Kael closed his eyes. And screamed.

****

The beast hurtled toward him, black fur bristling, muscles bulging like coiled rope. Its claws churned volcanic grit as it surged forward, jaws gaping wide.

Kael had seconds—maybe less.

He gritted his teeth and yanked the dull dagger from his waistband, the handle slick with sweat. It was barely sharp enough to cut fruit, but it was all he had. His left arm hung useless—numb from the fall, his legs limp, spine burning with pressure. He couldn't feel anything below the waist.

But his talent was active.

His stomach churned, warm with that slow, hungry hum—Advanced Digestion.

The beast collided with him.

But the impact never hit.

Kael felt a strange pressure—but it folded, disappearing into the warmth in his gut, devoured the instant it touched his abdomen and ribs. The kinetic energy vanished, absorbed like sunlight into shadow. Instead of breaking more bones, the beast's tackle simply knocked him back, as if it had slipped through a wall of smoke.

The badger-beast paused, confused. Its claws tore shallow furrows down Kael's side, but the crushing blow it meant to land had gone nowhere.

Kael gasped, blood bubbling in his throat—but he was alive. That moment of protection gave him a flicker of hope.

**Then it struck again—**not with a slam, but with its jaws.

It bit down on Kael's left shoulder, and that, he wasn't ready for.

Crack.

Pain. Searing, primal, white-hot.

Kael screamed as bone shattered. The beast jerked back with a growl, Kael's left arm clenched in its teeth.

Still attached.

Then—rip.

It tore the arm free.

Blood jetted in a scarlet arc. Kael screamed again, the pain too massive to even comprehend, vision swimming in and out. The creature chomped the limb once—twice—then swallowed it, bone and all, in a wet gulp.

Kael gasped. Cold sweat soaked his face. He clutched at the wound with trembling fingers but couldn't stop the bleeding.

His talent was active. He was active. But it hadn't saved his arm.

Why? No time. No reason. Just survive.

The beast wasn't done. It came again, jaws wide, fangs flashing.

It bit into his torso, just below the ribs—and sank deep.

Kael tried to scream, but it came out as a gurgle. The pain was overwhelming, his consciousness fraying. His right hand—his only hand—fumbled upward, dagger clenched—

He stabbed. The blade snapped against the beast's hide like glass on stone.

The beast didn't even flinch.

Kael dropped the hilt. Breath ragged. Blood poured from his side, his vision narrowing to a tunnel.

"I'm gonna die."

But something in him snapped the other way.

He surged upward, not with his fist, not with his dagger—with his mouth.

He bit down on the beast's snout, teeth sinking into the bridge of its face.

And that—that his talent understood.

It roared to life.

Heat exploded through Kael's mouth, down his throat, blooming in his gut like a supernova. Flesh, blood, and bone dissolved on contact with his saliva, disintegrating in pulsing waves. The badger-beast howled, jerking back, but Kael's jaw was locked.

He refused to let go.

He would eat this thing to death. Bite by bite, scream by scream.

The beast thrashed, flailing, scraping him against the street, but it only made him bite harder. His teeth cracked, but the beast's snout melted in his mouth, the pain drowned by a rush of power and something else:

Hunger.

Not his. His talent's.

A shadow bled from his lips, black as oil, flowing out in slow tendrils, then ripping forward like a storm surge. It wrapped the beast's head, its neck, its chest.

The badger shrieked in terror now—not rage. It tried to flee.

Too late.

The shadow surged again, growing larger—a mouth without end, a gaping void that tore the creature from the world piece by piece, molecule by molecule.

Flesh dissolved. Bones crumbled. Screams were swallowed whole.

Kael's eyes rolled back. The heat, the pain, the shadow—it all overwhelmed him.

He couldn't move. Couldn't even think. His body was dying, but something inside him—wasn't.

Then—

Ding.

A sound. Clear. Resonant. Impossible.

Before his eyes, floating in the dark, a window opened.

A familiar interface—but no balance. No property listings. No request confirmations.

Only one message:

"You have awakened the XXX-Rank Trait: Inner Universe Creation"

Kael's bloody lips curled into a cracked, delirious grin.

And then he passed out.