Sand Stalker

Noel opened his eyes as soon as he felt all his senses return, no longer the ethereal consciousness he had been during character customization. Everything around him solidified, becoming startlingly real. 

He found himself standing in a vast, desert-themed Instance, but not just an endless expanse of sand. The terrain was harsh and varied, with jagged rocks jutting out from the ground, their surfaces shimmering in the oppressive heat, creating natural fortresses and shadows that offered brief respite from the relentless sun. 

The sand shifted beneath his feet, gritty and hot, while the occasional gust of wind carried the sting of fine grains against his skin. In the distance, he could make out the shimmer of an occasional oasis, a mirage of cool water that tempted him to move forward. 

The heat was oppressive, the kind that seemed to bake the earth beneath his feet, and with it came a rising thirst that was almost unbearable. Noel could feel the sweat beading on his skin, the parched dryness in his throat growing with each breath.

As he took in his surroundings, Noel noticed a timer in the top right corner of his vision, steadily counting down from 12 hours. Beneath it, another display showed the number 0/100—a reminder of the daunting task ahead of him. He would either need to survive for 12 hours or kill 100 monsters to clear the Instance.

'This is too real,' he thought, marveling at the game's accuracy. He hadn't expected to feel so fully immersed—so convinced that it was reality. The air was dry, and as he pinched his arm to test the boundaries of the simulation, a sharp pain confirmed his suspicion. 

It hurt, just as it would in the real world, but muted, like the volume had been turned down on his nerves. The realism was astonishing, yet slightly unnerving.

As he adjusted to his surroundings, his attention shifted downward—to his legs. They felt strong, stable beneath him. Slowly, with a mix of fear and excitement, he took a tentative step. Then another. And another. 

His heart pounded in his chest, not from the effort, but from the sheer joy of movement. He was walking. The muscles in his legs responded effortlessly, the sand crunching beneath his boots with each step. 

'I can finally walk', he thought, almost afraid to believe it. The feeling was overwhelming, like being given a second chance at life. He savored each step, the simple joy of movement filling him with a giddy, childlike elation. For the first time in years, he was free from the wheelchair, free from the constraints of his own body.

Noel took a moment to fully take in the strange, alien beauty of the desert around him, marveling at how real it all felt. His awe quickly turned to alarm as the ground beneath him began to shift unnaturally.

The sand started to warp and twist, as if something was burrowing beneath it. Alarm bells rang in his mind, and he quickly distanced himself from the disturbance, his heart pounding as he tried to anticipate what might emerge.

Once he had moved a few steps away, he instinctively took a defensive stance, though the movement felt strange after five years of living with a crippled body.

Suddenly, the sand erupted. A creature burst forth, sending a spray of golden grains into the air. It was about the size of an adult lion, with a build that was both terrifying and imposing. 

The creature's body was covered in rough, rocky scales that glinted in the harsh sunlight, giving it an almost armored appearance. Sharp, crystalline spikes jutted out along its spine, and its powerful claws dug into the earth with each step, leaving gouges in the sand.

Its eyes, fierce and glowing with a predatory gleam, locked onto Noel. The creature's gaping maw revealed rows of razor-sharp teeth, and a low growl rumbled from deep within its chest, vibrating through the air.

Noel's breath caught in his throat. 'How am I supposed to fight that?' 

He had no weapon, not yet adjusted to his newfound legs, and certainly no idea how to bring down something that looked like it could tear him apart in an instant. 

'I have to stay on my feet', Noel reminded himself as he barely dodged another swipe. 'One wrong move and it's over.'

There was no time to hesitate as the Sand Stalker charged, its lithe, muscular body barreling towards him with alarming speed.

Reacting purely on instinct, Noel threw himself to the side, narrowly avoiding the beast's initial strike. He rolled in the sand, feeling the rough grains scrape against his skin, and scrambled to his feet just as the creature turned, its eyes never leaving him. 

The tactical outfit his character wore—dark, sleek, and equipped with straps and gear that hinted at military precision—was now coated in dust and sand. It offered some protection, but not enough.

Pain shot through his side—he hadn't escaped unscathed. The creature's claws had grazed him, tearing through his shirt and leaving deep, bleeding gashes beneath the layers of fabric.

The creature lunged again, and Noel was ready—or as ready as he could be. He sidestepped, barely dodging another swipe of its deadly claws, and lashed out with a kick to its side. The impact was solid, but the creature's rocky hide absorbed most of the blow. It barely flinched, and Noel realized just how outmatched he was.

The fight became a desperate dance of survival. Noel dodged and struck wherever he could, but every movement cost him. His stamina was waning, his breath coming in ragged gasps as the creature's relentless attacks drove him back. Each close call left him with more cuts, more bruises. Blood dripped down his arm, his leg—his entire body felt like it was on fire.

Just when he thought he couldn't hold out any longer, the creature made a mistake. It lunged too far, its massive claws digging into a gap between two sturdy rocks, getting momentarily stuck. 

'This is my chance'. Seizing the opportunity, Noel gathered every last bit of strength and slammed his fist into one of the creature's eyes. It howled in pain, recoiling as its vision blurred.

Without wasting time, Noel grabbed a jagged rock from the ground and drove it into the creature's wounded eye with all his might. The creature roared in agony, thrashing violently as it tried to shake him off, but Noel held on, pushing the rock deeper until he felt the beast's movements begin to slow. 

With one final, ear-splitting cry, the terrifying creature collapsed, its body hitting the ground with a heavy thud.

Noel stepped back, his breathing heavy as he watched the creature's form go still. Blood trickled down his face, his limbs trembling from the exertion. He had done it. Somehow, he had actually killed the monster.

As he stood there, adrenaline still coursing through his veins, a soft chime echoed in his ears, pulling his focus to a notification hovering in his field of vision. That's when he learned the creature's name.

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╮

﴾ Lv.2 Sand Stalker ﴿

﴾ 50 Life Energy obtained ﴿

﴾ Congratulations! You have unlocked your Innate Talent,║Liability║﴿

Rewards Obtained

2 Kentos 200 grams Sand Stalker Meat ⧼Edible⧽ added to Inventory1 Common Grade Weapon Selection Card added to Inventory

╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯

Noel stared at the notification, trying to process everything. Sand Stalker. The name echoed in his mind, lingering like a memory. As his gaze drifted back to where the creature had fallen, he noticed its body beginning to lose form.

The rough, rocky scales seemed to soften, edges blurring as the once-massive figure gradually faded. Light shimmered briefly around the creature, the air rippling with a faint glow before the entire form dissolved, leaving nothing but a few disturbed grains of sand where it had once lain.

The monster's magical disappearance served as a stark reminder that it was a game, not reality. Yet, with how realistic everything felt—from his labored breaths to the pull of gravity and the sharp sting of pain—every detail was so immersive that his mind kept slipping into the belief that it was reality.

As the boundaries between the perception of the virtual world and his own began to blur, a troubling realization crept in, bringing with it a wave of concern.

'Leon… has he been playing something this brutal all along?' The thought gnawed at him, the weight of it sinking in deeper with each passing moment. 'What has this game been doing to him?'

Before he could dwell on it further, a sharp, burning pain from the cuts and bruises he'd sustained demanded his attention. Wincing, Noel remembered the notification had mentioned something about an inventory, like most games he was familiar with.

"Inventory," he called out, and with a soft chime, a panel appeared before him, displaying ten slots. Four of them were already filled. One slot contained another set of clothes, and another held something labeled as "Healing Bandaids"—ten of them stacked together.

'Thank God,' he thought, quickly selecting the bandaids. As soon as he did, the bandaids magically materialized in his hands, almost as if summoned from thin air. He wasted no time, applying half of them to the worst of his wounds.

He wrapped a strip around the deep gashes on his side where the Sand Stalker's claws had torn through his flesh, then placed others on the cuts and bruises that marred his arms and legs from Sand Stalker's relentless assault.

As the bandaids adhered to his skin, a soothing sensation spread through the affected areas. The sharp, burning pain gradually began to fade away. Noel let out a sigh of relief, grateful for the small reprieve as he adjusted to the strange but effective healing process. 

The soothing sensation helped steady his breathing, allowing him to think more clearly. 'The environment is unforgiving, but at least I have something to help me survive', he thought, glancing at the harsh desert landscape with renewed determination."

For someone who had grown up in the cold climate of Finland, the oppressive heat was far from welcoming, making the environment feel even more hostile.

Noel took another deep breath, feeling the weight of the desert heat pressing down on him. Despite everything he had just endured, he remained standing—more than he could have hoped for moments ago. 

A weapon selection card sat in his inventory, but his thoughts lingered on the newly unlocked Innate Talent waiting to be explored, something that could significantly increase his chances of survival in the brutal virtual world.