Nyx Hollow – Day One, Nightfall.
As the sky darkened, Nyx Hollow changed again.
Gone were the warped sunbeams and flickering twilight. In their place came a purplish gloom, thicker than fog, quieter than breath. It wasn't just night—it was another layer of the Hollow.
Creatures that hadn't moved during the day now began to stir.
Some howled. Some whispered.
Some simply watched.
But under the thick roots of a collapsed Etherwood tree, surrounded by ash and moss and perfectly still, lay one boy who did nothing.
No fighting.
No chasing monsters.
No forming alliances.
Just… surviving.
Zane Kingslay.
The self-declared expert of "strategic cowardice."
---
Inside the root cave, Zane sat cross-legged on a thin bed of moss. His body was still sore. His ankle had ballooned, his left shoulder burned whenever he moved, and there was something definitely broken inside his ribcage.
But he was no longer bleeding.
And more importantly…
He could feel it.
Mana.
Just a thread.
Like a spider's silk brushing against the skin of his mind.
"Okay," he whispered. "Okay, okay, okay—this is either a divine blessing or I've officially gone insane and this is all part of a near-death fever dream."
> [S.A.S.S. Commentary: I vote insanity. The hallucinations started three near-deaths ago.]
Zane twitched. "Not now, you corporate fever app. I need to focus."
He closed his eyes again, breathing slowly. Trying not to cough.
In the darkness, he pulled mana toward his center—not like a trained mage, but like a man trying to use chopsticks with boxing gloves.
Still…
Something moved.
A gentle warmth coiled near his chest.
> [Mana Flow Detected: Primitive Circulation Initiated.]
[Efficiency: 3% – Like duct-taping a sword to a chicken and calling it combat.]
He smiled.
That was the best system notification he'd seen in days.
---
Outside, the Mirrorwalker crept past.
Its jagged limbs scraped the charred stones.
Its mirrored body reflected empty forest. No scent. No blood trail.
The monster sniffed once—then moved on.
Zane didn't flinch.
He didn't even breathe until the sound faded.
"Rule 21 of Hollow Survival," he whispered once the coast was clear. "You don't gotta outrun the monster. You just have to not exist in its mental universe."
---
He spent the rest of the night working in silence.
Crafting a fireless cooking setup using heated mana pebbles (which exploded once, nearly taking off his eyebrow).
Making a bed out of a cloak, moss, and misplaced arrogance.
And drinking purified swamp water run through a filter made of his sock and seven layers of regret.
> [S.A.S.S. Note: You're now 48% bacteria. Congratulations.]
"Perfect," Zane said dryly. "That's more than some nobles I've met."
He hadn't earned points yet. He hadn't killed anything. He hadn't done anything… heroic.
But he was alive.
And that, he thought, was a win.
A quiet one.
The kind no one would applaud.
But it was his.
---
Day Two – Early Morning
Zane was still under the root canopy, chewing on a slab of monster jerky (courtesy of the Behemutt he accidentally exploded yesterday).
"Okay, morning checklist," he muttered.
He raised a finger.
"One: Still alive."
Two fingers.
"Two: Still ugly, but slightly magical."
Three.
"Three: Mana circulation not killing me internally anymore."
He flexed his fingers.
Small sparks danced around his skin—barely visible. Barely controlled. But real.
He could use mana now.
Not spells.
Not incantations.
But flow.
He could push energy into his limbs. Accelerate minor healing. Dull pain. Harden skin just enough to sleep without freezing.
> [Mana Manipulation – Tier 0: Initiated]
[Status: Rogue Training Path – No Formal Instruction Detected]
> [S.A.S.S. Note: You're like a caveman who just discovered fire. Stop poking it with a stick.]
"I will poke it," Zane hissed. "I'll poke it and build a fire and roast my psychological trauma over it."
He sighed.
"You know, sometimes I think the only real reason I got this system was so someone could finally insult me on a spiritual level."
> [S.A.S.S. Update: Your IQ is currently fighting gravity. And losing.]
---
Zane didn't know what the top-ranked students were doing.
He didn't care.
He knew they'd form teams, build outposts, kill monsters, rack up points, and earn glory.
Good for them.
He had other goals:
Don't die.
Don't attract attention.
Don't accidentally awaken a god-beast by stepping on its eggs.
Simple. Achievable. Elegant.
He sat up slowly, shifting mana through his legs.
"Okay. Test run."
He stood.
Didn't fall.
Took a step.
Didn't scream.
> [Mobility: Partial Recovery – 54%]
[Mental Stability: 26% (…questionable)]
> [S.A.S.S. Mood: Mildly Impressed / Mildly Concerned]
Zane took a deep breath of misty air and looked up toward the Hollow's fractured sky.
"I am Zane Kingslay," he whispered.
"I have one boot, two cracked ribs, zero points, and absolutely no desire to be seen."
He gave a weak grin.
"And somehow, I'm still winning."
Then his stomach growled.
Loudly.
He blinked.
"…That wasn't me."
The growl came again.
This time, deeper.
He turned.
Very slowly.
There, at the edge of the burnt clearing, stood—
A massive, blindfolded beast, sniffing the air.
Twice the size of the Behemutt. Its mouth stitched shut. Its face bound by black ribbon.
A creature that could not see… but could sense mana flow.
Zane froze.
> [Warning: Hollowborn Warden Detected – Grade A – Mana Sensory Active]
[Advice: Stop existing immediately.]
Zane muttered, "...So that's what breakfast smells like to monsters."
He clutched his chest, pulled the tiny mana thread into stillness—
Didn't move. Didn't breathe.
The beast's head turned.
Sniffed.
Paused.
Then—
Stepped away.
It left.
He'd survived.
Again.
Barely.
Zane exhaled.
And then muttered:
"New rule. Never be the brightest thing in the room. That's how you die."