Ethan Cole's life ended with a bang—literally. One minute, he was hunched over a keyboard in a Silicon Valley lab, debugging code for a quantum processor that hummed like a pissed-off hornet. The next, an alarm blared, the reactor room flashed red, and a surge of white-hot energy swallowed him whole. No time to scream. No time to think. Just heat, then darkness.
So when he woke choking on ash, sprawled on cracked earth under a sky bleeding purple, he figured he'd coded one too many all-nighters into a coma. Except comas didn't come with claw marks gouged into the dirt or a translucent screen floating an inch from his nose, glowing like a glitchy UI from a game he'd never playtested.
[Eclipse Forge System initializing… Welcome, Forger. Accept binding? Y/N]
"What the hell?" Ethan rasped, his throat raw like he'd gargled sandpaper. He swiped at the screen, half-expecting it to vanish like a bad VR demo. It didn't budge, its text pulsing with an urgency that made his skin crawl. A low growl snapped his head up. Thirty feet away, a wolf-thing prowled—seven feet of rippling muscle, eyes like dying stars, claws dripping black ichor that hissed against the ground. A voidborn, his gut screamed, though he had no clue how he knew the word.
The screen flared. [Warning: Voidborn Scavenger approaching. Accept binding to unlock Forge?]
Ethan's heart hammered, his programmer's brain scrambling for logic in a world that had none. No weapons, no strength, just a faded T-shirt and jeans in a wasteland that smelled like burnt ozone and despair. The wolf's jaws parted, revealing teeth that gleamed like obsidian knives. It was ten feet away now, and closing fast.
"Y!" he shouted, slamming the mental Yes like it was the last commit of his life.
[Binding complete. Core Skill Unlocked: Void Forge – Craft from chaos. Essence: 10/100]
A jolt of energy surged through him, like coffee mainlined into his veins. His vision sharpened, the world snapping into focus—every crack in the earth, every flicker in the wolf's starry eyes. A jagged shard of purple-black essence materialized in his hand, no bigger than a grapefruit but pulsing with potential, warm against his palm. The wolf lunged, claws raking the air.
Ethan's instincts—honed by years of crunching code under deadlines—kicked into overdrive. Craft something. Now. "Dagger," he growled, picturing a blade sharp enough to cut through whatever nightmare this was. The essence twisted, reshaping like liquid metal in fast-forward. In a heartbeat, it solidified into a Voidfang Dagger—six inches of shimmering chaos, its edge glinting with a faint, unnatural glow.
He rolled left as the wolf's claws tore into the dirt where he'd been, spraying ash. Momentum carried him to his knees, and he stabbed upward, sinking the dagger into the beast's flank. The voidborn howled, a sound like glass shattering in reverse, and ichor sprayed, sizzling against his arm. Pain flared, but Ethan gritted his teeth, twisting the blade deeper. The wolf thrashed, then collapsed, its starry eyes dimming to dull gray.
Ethan staggered back, chest heaving, the dagger still clutched in his trembling hand. The screen pinged, and new text scrolled across his vision.
[Voidborn Scavenger defeated. Essence gained: +5. Current Essence: 15/100]
[Crafting Success: Voidfang Dagger (Tier 1). Durability: 80/100. Effect: +10% piercing damage against voidborn.]
He blinked, the words sinking in. Essence. Crafting. Tiers. This wasn't just a game—it was his life now, and the system was his only lifeline. He glanced at the dead wolf, its body already dissolving into wisps of black mist. "Okay," he muttered, wiping ichor off his cheek. "I'm not dead. That's a start."
The wasteland stretched around him, a desolate expanse of cracked earth, twisted metal ruins, and distant, jagged mountains under that unnatural purple sky. No signs of civilization, just more claw marks and the faint hum of something wrong in the air—like reality itself was glitching. Ethan's programmer brain itched to debug it, but first, he needed answers. What was this place? Why was he here? And what the hell was the Eclipse Forge?
He focused on the system screen, willing it to explain itself. It obliged, expanding into a minimalist interface that looked like a cross between a game HUD and a coding IDE.
[Eclipse Forge System: Status]
Forger: Ethan Cole
Essence: 15/100
Skills: Void Forge (Tier 1 – Craft basic artifacts from chaos essence)
Artifacts: Voidfang Dagger (Tier 1)
Corruption: 0%
[Objective: Survive the Ashen Wastes. Craft to grow stronger.]
"Survive. Great advice," Ethan snorted, pocketing the dagger. The mention of Corruption sent a chill down his spine, but with no explanation, he filed it away for later. Right now, survival meant moving before more voidborn showed up. He scanned the horizon, spotting a cluster of ruins—rusted girders and shattered concrete, like a city chewed up and spat out. Shelter, maybe. Or answers.
He started walking, the ground crunching under his sneakers. The system pinged again, and a new prompt appeared.
[Passive Skill Unlocked: Essence Sense – Detect nearby chaos essence. Range: 10 meters.]
"Finally, something useful," Ethan muttered. He focused, and a faint pulse radiated from him, like mental sonar. A dim glow flickered in the dirt twenty feet ahead—a shard of essence, half-buried. He jogged over, prying it free. It was smaller than the first, barely a pebble, but it hummed with the same chaotic energy.
[Essence gained: +3. Current Essence: 18/100]
"Not enough for another dagger," he mused, checking the system. The Void Forge skill had a crafting menu, listing options: dagger, gauntlet, arrowhead. Each required 10–20 essence, and the dagger's blueprint was now "saved," meaning he could remake it faster. The system felt intuitive, like coding with a drag-and-drop editor, but the stakes were real. One wrong move, and he'd be wolf chow.
The ruins loomed closer, their shadows stretching across the ash. Ethan's Essence Sense pinged again, stronger this time. A larger essence shard lay nestled in a collapsed building, but as he approached, a snarl froze him in place. Two more voidborn—smaller than the first, but still nasty—crouched atop a rusted beam, their eyes locking onto him.
"Round two," Ethan growled, gripping the Voidfang Dagger. He glanced at his essence: 18. Enough for something new. The gauntlet blueprint caught his eye—20 essence, but it promised "+15% impact damage." He needed a shield, not another blade. "Screw it," he said, willing the essence to form. The shard in his hand dissolved, and his reserves dropped to 8 as a crude Blast Gauntlet materialized on his left fist, its surface etched with faint, swirling runes.
The voidborn leaped, moving in tandem like a pack. Ethan dodged the first, its claws grazing his shoulder, and swung the gauntlet at the second. A pulse of force erupted on impact, sending the beast crashing into a concrete slab with a sickening crunch. The first voidborn lunged again, but Ethan's dagger found its throat, and it collapsed in a spray of ichor.
[Voidborn Scavengers defeated (x2). Essence gained: +10. Current Essence: 18/100]
[Blast Gauntlet Durability: 90/100]
Ethan panted, pain throbbing in his shoulder where the claw had nicked him. The wound wasn't deep, but it burned like acid. He needed bandages, food, something—but the ruins were his only shot. He climbed over rubble, Essence Sense guiding him to the shard he'd sensed earlier. It was bigger, glowing brighter, and yielded 5 more essence, pushing him to 23.
Inside the ruins, the air grew heavy, thick with that glitchy hum. Broken machinery littered the floor—gears, wires, screens long dead. Ethan's programmer instincts flared. This wasn't just a ruin; it was a lab, or had been. A shattered console caught his eye, its surface etched with symbols that matched his gauntlet's runes. Before he could investigate, a voice cut through the silence.
"Move, and you're dead."
Ethan spun, dagger raised, to find a woman perched on a crumbled wall, a crossbow aimed at his chest. She was in her mid-twenties, with short-cropped black hair, a leather jacket, and eyes that screamed don't test me. A scar ran down her cheek, and her crossbow bolt glowed faintly—essence-infused, he guessed.
"Easy," Ethan said, lowering the dagger but not dropping it. "I'm just passing through."
"Passing through the Ashen Wastes?" She snorted, not lowering the crossbow. "Nobody passes here. You're either prey or a problem. Which are you?"
"Survivor," Ethan said, meeting her gaze. "Name's Ethan. You?"
She hesitated, then lowered the crossbow an inch. "Lira. And you're lucky I didn't shoot first. Voidborn don't carry daggers like that. Where'd you get it?"
"Made it," Ethan said, tapping the gauntlet. "Got a knack for crafting."
Lira's eyes narrowed, flicking to the gauntlet. "You're a forger? System-bound?"
"Something like that," Ethan said, wary. "You know about systems?"
"More than you, newbie," Lira said, hopping off the wall. "That dagger's Tier 1, barely enough to scrape by. You won't last a week without a crew."
Ethan bristled but kept his cool. "And you're offering?"
"Maybe," Lira said, smirking. "If you're not dead weight. My team's short a fighter since—well, voidborn don't play nice. Prove you're useful, and we might let you tag along."
Before Ethan could reply, a deep rumble shook the ruins, dust cascading from the ceiling. Essence Sense screamed in his skull, pinpointing a massive source of chaos essence—moving fast. Lira cursed, raising her crossbow. "Skullcrusher," she hissed. "Big voidborn. We need to move."
Ethan's pulse spiked, but he held his ground. "How big?"
"Big enough to make us lunch," Lira said, already backing toward an exit. "Unless you've got a Tier 2 artifact up your sleeve, run."
Ethan glanced at his essence: 23. Not enough for anything fancy, but running felt like a death sentence too. The rumble grew louder, and a shadow loomed beyond the ruins—a voidborn the size of a truck, its skull plated with bone, eyes blazing like twin suns. The system pinged, unhelpfully.
[Warning: Voidborn Skullcrusher detected. Threat Level: High. Recommendation: Flee.]
"Screw fleeing," Ethan muttered, gripping the dagger and gauntlet. He turned to Lira. "Got any essence to spare? I can craft something to slow it down."
Lira stared, then tossed him a small, glowing shard from her belt. "Don't make me regret this."
[Essence gained: +7. Current Essence: 30/100]
The Skullcrusher roared, charging through the ruins, concrete shattering under its claws. Ethan's mind raced, the crafting menu flashing. A new blueprint appeared—Pulse Grenade, 25 essence, "Area stun effect." Perfect. He poured his essence into it, the shard and his reserves shaping a fist-sized orb that hummed with power.
"Catch!" he shouted, lobbing the grenade at the Skullcrusher. It detonated in a burst of violet light, and the beast staggered, roaring as arcs of chaos energy crackled across its hide. Lira fired a bolt, the glowing projectile piercing its shoulder.
"Nice trick," she said, grinning. "Now what?"
"Now we run," Ethan said, adrenaline pumping. The Skullcrusher was stunned, but not down, and his essence was nearly tapped. They sprinted through the ruins, dodging falling debris, until they reached a narrow tunnel. Lira led the way, and Ethan followed, the beast's roars fading behind them.
They emerged in a hidden camp—tents, crates, and a few wary scavengers wielding essence-tipped spears. A grizzled man with a mechanical arm—Kael, Ethan guessed—nodded at Lira. "New blood?"
"Maybe," Lira said, glancing at Ethan. "He's a forger. Saved our asses back there."
Kael grunted, sizing Ethan up. "Prove it, kid."
Before Ethan could respond, Essence Sense flared again—not from the Skullcrusher, but from above. A sleek, metallic drone hovered in the purple sky, its lens glowing red. Lira's face paled. "Iron Dominion scout," she whispered. "They're hunting forgers."
The drone's lens locked onto Ethan, and a cold voice echoed from it. "Eclipse Forger detected. Surrender, or be eradicated."
Ethan's blood ran cold. The system pinged, a single word flashing across his vision.
[Run.]