***

  Chapter 1: Crash Land

  The stolen freighter had been dying for hours. It bled plasma and hope into the void. Zed merely delayed the certificate of death.

  Crimson strobes carved the cockpit into pulsing wounds. Alarms did not wail. They keened like a choir of mechanical damned things. Their overlapping cries became texture. The sound settled in the marrow like damp rot. The yoke fought him with the spite of a beast that knew its rider would soon become meat. Sweat traced paths of salt through caked blood and soot across his face. Copper coated his tongue and mingled with ozone so sharp it felt like breathing razors. He was 17 years old. 17 years old and he had already killed for this rusting hulk. Three men whose names he never learned had died so he could sit here. Their faces already blurred into the generic smear of the dead. Their last screams still echoed somewhere behind his eyes whenever the ship shuddered. He remembered the way the first man had begged before the knife went in. The second had fought until his throat opened. The third had simply stared with the empty eyes of someone who already knew the void was coming.

  "47 percent." The reactor would bloom into brief beautiful annihilation before the hull kissed atmosphere. The number felt clean and accusatory. He hated it the way one hates a mirror that shows only the noose.

  "Merlin. Status." His voice scraped out raw.

  The implant answered in its usual dry monotone. The voice never quite belonged to mercy. "Hull integrity stands at 7 percent. Structural members fracture like old bone. Eject now. Your cargo is already stardust confetti."

  "Negative." He forced the thrusters beyond redline until something in the console gave a metallic cough. The deck thrummed like a heart in seizure. "I paid in blood for this. I do not scatter it for free."

  Merlin voice cut through again with flat urgency. "Probability of survival drops to 9 percent if you maintain this course. The hull will peel like wet paper."

  Zed ignored the warning. He jammed the controls harder. The ship screamed around him in protest.

  The starboard wing tore away with the sound of a god breaking a femur. The freighter spun asymmetric and screaming. Fire punched inward. A white fist of heat blistered skin and scorched lungs with wiring fumes and his own boiling blood. Vision narrowed to black tunnels. He slapped the eject panel. His palm slick with blood left a red sigil on the control.

  The pod launched. Acceleration crushed him into the couch. Freefall followed. It howled long and endless. Ablative shielding glowed cherry as atmosphere tried to consume him whole. Jungle canopy parted like wet flesh. Impact came as thunder. Trees splintered. Soil erupted. Blackness swallowed everything with patient inevitability. In that final second before nothing he tasted the copper of his own death and smiled at how cheap it felt. The smile lingered even as the world went dark.

  When awareness returned it arrived piecemeal and cruel. Pain announced itself first. It was total and orchestral. Every nerve became a string plucked by an indifferent hand. Then scent arrived. Woodsmoke hung thick as regret. It intertwined with herbs so pungent they stung the eyes before they opened. Cool paste crusted his burns and numbed the deepest fire beneath skin. The paste carried a promise of worse to come. Broad leaves bound him in tight overlapping bands. They smelled of crushed ferns and a faint metallic rot. The scent resembled blood left too long in a cheap med bay. His own body reeked of ozone and charred meat. The air itself pressed down with wet heavy malice.

  His body felt heavier. Gravity alone did not explain it. Something else weighed him down. The planet had quietly siphoned part of him while he lay insensate. It claimed mass the way a grave claims heat. Every breath now carried the taste of foreign soil and old graves.

  He opened his eyes. A low hut of mud plastered sticks and thatch enclosed him. Sunlight stabbed through roof gaps in thin accusing blades. The light striped the dirt floor in shifting gold. Outside the cookfires crackled with patient malice. Stone scraped flint in rhythmic inevitability. Children laughed. Their high carefree sounds felt alien. The scene seemed borrowed from a dream he had never wanted. Somewhere beyond the walls something large moved through the undergrowth with deliberate hunger.

  "Merlin." He rasped the name.

  A chime pulsed behind his eye. It felt soft as a lie. "You are still breathing. Impressive for a 17 year old whose primary survival trait is reckless defiance. Burns are 87 percent closed. Fractures knit at unnatural speed. The indigenous compound outperforms military gel by 21 percent. Incidental benefits include muscle density increased by 8.4 percent and bone density increased by 9.1 percent. Warning. These people revile things that fall from the sky with doctrinal intensity. Hospitality is provisional. Spears are honest. They have already debated whether to feed your corpse to the roots. I recorded three separate votes for immediate execution."

  "What world is this?"

  "Unnamed. Single continent. Pre industrial. No electromagnetic signatures. No orbitals. No mercy. 23 souls exist within 20 meters. They are displeased. One of them already sharpens a blade while he watches the hut door."

  Zed rose on trembling arms. His ribs ground like broken gears. Each step to the doorway tallied against collapse. The floor felt alive beneath his bare feet. It drank his heat and gave nothing back. He stumbled once and caught himself on the wall. Fresh pain lanced through his side but the new muscle held.

  Sunlight struck like judgment. The clearing breathed. It lay sun drenched and ringed by jungle that pulsed with hidden malice. Huts huddled in a rough circle around a central fire. Smoke rose in slow coiling spirals. Women stirred pots and released scents of smoked flesh and bitter roots. Men honed flint with metronomic patience. Sparks died like hope. Children chased a vine woven ball. Then every head turned.

  Motion ceased.

  Eyes narrowed. Warriors rose. Hands tightened on hafts until scars stood white against skin. The air thickened with the sour reek of sudden fear and older hatred.

  "Sky demon." A voice hissed the words and carried on humid wind. "Fallen star. Curse bearer."

  This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

  An elder woman approached. She took measured steps. Ochre spirals coiled across her cheeks and brow like equations of menace. Bone fetishes clattered at her belt. Tiny skulls carved teeth and polished phalanges warned of storm. Two spearmen flanked her. Their weapons angled in perfect threat. Their eyes held the flat certainty of executioners who had done this before.

  She stopped. She spat to the side in ritual dismissal. Merlin translated the lilting cadence and preserved every undercurrent of ancient ceremony.

  "You draw breath sky demon." Her voice carried the weight of inevitability. "The fire spirit rejected you like spoiled meat. The leaves that mended your worthless flesh were harvested under the blood moon. Spirits walk then and trees weep red. Those leaves are rarer than truth among your kind. Their use has bound you in a blood debt older than your line. You will labor until balance is restored. Fail and the jungle gods will drink your blood and bind your soul. You will remain awake and aware as an eternal servant. We will sing songs of erasure while vines claim what remains. Your screams will feed the roots for generations. Speak now if you wish to beg for a quicker death."

  Zed met her gaze without flinching. Inside his head probabilities spun like broken compasses. 64 percent chance existed to twist the debt into leverage. He would play humble learn rhythms and exploit fractures. The risk felt acceptable for a boy who had clawed from nothing with quick hands and quicker lies. He already catalogued weak points in every face that watched him.

  "I accept the debt." He spoke steadily despite trembling fingers. "What is the first task?"

  She studied him. She searched for the lie already forming. Then she jerked her chin toward the log pyramid beyond the fire. "Fuel for 3 nights vigil and extra for the rains. Begin now. Prove you are no poison. Fail even once and the spears will find you before the sun sets."

  Warriors held position. One youth remained longest. Jagged self carved scars crossed his chest. His spear tip never wavered from Zed heart. Hatred burned there. It felt intimate as grief reopened. The boy smelled of old smoke and fresh rage.

  Zed stepped back into the hut shadow. His eyes found the clay bowl of paste near the entrance. No watchers stood nearby. He palmed a thick handful and pressed it beneath the leaves. Charity in the black had always hidden barbs. Gravity changed nothing. He would need every advantage the world offered before the night ended.

  He emerged into the furnace of daylight. Heat pressed like suffocating flesh. "Lead me to the pile."

  The youth grunted assent. He fell in behind Zed. The spear hovered spine close. "Walk soft sky demon. One misstep and the blade finds your kidneys before you blink."

  Zed cracked his knuckles. The sharp pop cut through humidity. "72 percent probability exists that you lunge before the sun falls. Do you care to test the accuracy of my scans?"

  The youth bared teeth. "Talk all you want off worlder. I am Kael son of Tira. My sister drank from the river after the last sky wreckage poisoned the water. She swelled black. She died screaming while the elders prayed. You carry the same reek. Metal. Death. Inevitability. Tonight I will carve that reek out of you and feed it back to the roots. Say another word and I will start carving right now."

  Zed catalogued the name the wound and the trigger. Vendettas were weapons if turned correctly. He bent to the logs without reply.

  The first lift ignited agony across his ribs. He swallowed the gasp and set his jaw. He placed wood with deliberate care. Bend. Grip. Heave. Pivot. Stack. Rhythm emerged from pain like order from chaos. His mind ran parallel tracks. Escape corridors threaded through the thorn barrier. Weak points existed in the nearest huts. A timeline stretched for demonstrating irreplaceable utility before Kael forced the issue. Sweat carved fresh tracks through the soot on his skin. Each breath tasted of mold and coming rain.

  Humidity thickened the air to soup. The jungle exhaled wet rot night blooming flowers and distant predator musk. Shadows moved in the green wall. Their motion appeared too deliberate for wind or small game. Something large watched from the dark with patient appetite.

  A sharp blue rectangle materialized at eye level. Its edges cut like surgical light. The light burned behind his eyes and drilled straight into the meat of his brain.

  [System initialized.]

  [Welcome traveler from beyond the stars.]

  [Name: Zed.]

  [Age: 17.]

  [Level: 0.]

  [Class: none.]

  [Experience: 0 out of 100.]

  [Core attributes.]

  [Strength: 10. Vitality: 11.]

  [Agility: 12. Dexterity: 11.]

  [Wisdom: 10. Luck: 8.]

  [Unique talent: VIP gamer. EX rank.]

  [Experience gained times 3.]

  [Every 10 levels one random EX grade skill.]

  [Plus 5 free attribute points per level.]

  Agony drilled through both temples like ice picks forged in void. The world tilted. The panel glow pulsed outward. It cast blue shadows on nearby leaves. The light was visible. It was external. Heads turned again. Whispers rose like the first stirrings of a lynch mob. One warrior stepped forward and raised his spear in sudden alarm.

  Merlin voice cut in. Urgency cracked the usual calm. "Neural load is critical. Pathways burned. Spam the panels and you will black out. The emission was omnidirectional. Multiple observers registered the anomaly. They now believe you called demons of your own."

  Zed banished the panel with a mental flick. The migraine clung like wet tar. Blood trickled from his left nostril and he wiped it away before anyone else noticed.

  Two additional panes unfolded. They appeared unbidden and inexorable. Their edges sliced deeper than the first.

  [Quest first steps.]

  [Survive the next 7 days. Achieve level 5.]

  [Failure penalty. Permanent soul binding to planetary ecosystem as conscious aware servant of the jungle gods. No appeal. Soul tax enforced in perpetuity.]

  [Reward. One random basic skill plus 50 system credits.]

  [System interface currency.]

  [System credits. 0.]

  [Shop access granted. Weapons armor consumables skill tomes lost technology fragments. Pricing calibrated to extract maximum desperation. Nothing is gratis. Not breath. Not time. Not tomorrow. Every purchase will cost more than you can afford.]

  A warrior lunged forward and seized Zed by the throat. "Speak demon. What sorcery did you just summon?"

  Zed met the man's eyes with cold calculation. "Nothing you can stop. Kill me and the gods take their payment from your village instead."

  The warrior released him with a snarl but did not back away.

  Zed mouth curved in a fractional predatory tic. It vanished instantly. "83 percent chance existed that the planet would break him before the first week closed." He had beaten longer odds with emptier hands. The system had just handed him a loaded gun in a room full of knives. He intended to use it.

  He hoisted the next log. His ribs shrieked in protest. He flicked a glance at Kael. The spear remained unwavering. Then he looked toward the jungle fringe. Shadows thickened there into forms too massive for coincidence. Eyes reflected green in the dark. They did not blink.

  "83 percent chance this ends in blood before the light dies." He breathed the words for Merlin alone.

  Kael closed the gap in one aggressive stride. The spear haft pressed Zed shoulder hard enough to rock him forward. "Speak louder demon. Or are your words meant only for ghosts?"

  Zed turned slowly. He met the burning stare. "I am counting heartbeats until you make your choice. Kill me now and explain the corpse to your elders. Or wait and see if I become useful enough to keep breathing. Your sister waits in the dark either way. Choose wrong and you join her sooner than you think."

  Kael knuckles blanched on the wood. "Stack faster. Tonight when the old ones dream we will test whose blood the gods truly want."

  Zed lifted again. Pain became whetstone. The jungle pressed closer. Its humid breath touched skin. Deep in the emerald dark a low resonant growl answered. The sound vibrated through leaf and bone alike. It carried the promise of teeth and hunger that had no name yet.

  He was going to harvest every debt this world believed it held over him.

  Then he would charge compound interest. Payment would come in blood fear or power. Whichever the dark coil offered first.