Grimoire of Infinite Malice

The ruins felt different now. The faint hum of the Grimoire of Infinite Malice pulsed against Eren's chest, where he had strapped the ancient tome after accepting its pact. The world hadn't changed physically, but the air around him seemed alive, charged with an unseen energy. Every step he took felt heavier, as though the weight of the grimoire's power tethered him to the earth.

Eren glanced at his hands, flexing his fingers. They still trembled slightly, a side effect of the surge of energy that had coursed through him. His body was his own, but it felt... altered. As though he had awakened something dormant, something primal, that had been lurking deep within him.

"I see you're still standing," the voice of the grimoire echoed in his mind, its tone laced with faint amusement. "That's promising."

"Don't talk to me," Eren muttered, tightening his jaw. He hated how casual the voice sounded, as though it hadn't just ripped apart the very fabric of his soul to bind them together.

"Don't be so petulant, little one," the voice chided. "You and I are bound now. You'll find it easier if you listen. Unless, of course, you'd prefer to wander aimlessly until the beasts out there find you."

Eren froze. The beasts. He had almost forgotten about them. The world was teeming with creatures born of the calamities—monsters that prowled the ruins, hunting anything that moved. He had encountered a few before, but they had always been weak, solitary. Now, with the grimoire's power radiating from him like a beacon, he wasn't sure he'd be so lucky.

"What are you?" he asked, his voice quieter now. "Why did you choose me?"

The voice was silent for a moment, as though contemplating its response.

"I am everything and nothing," it said finally. "A fragment of a forgotten era, a remnant of a time when the gods themselves walked this world. As for why I chose you... let's just say I saw potential. A flame, waiting to ignite."

Eren clenched his fists. He didn't like the way the grimoire spoke, as though it held all the answers while he was left stumbling in the dark.

"Potential for what?" he demanded.

"To survive," the voice replied simply. "This world is broken, Eren Veylen. Its laws, its rules—they no longer matter. Only those with the will to dominate will endure. And you, whether you realize it or not, have that will."

Eren swallowed hard, his thoughts racing. He wanted to reject the grimoire's words, to cling to the hope that the world could still be saved. But deep down, he knew the truth. The world he had known was gone, and nothing could bring it back.

A low growl interrupted his thoughts. Eren whipped around, his heart pounding. A figure emerged from the shadows, its movements slow and deliberate. It was humanoid, but its twisted features and glowing red eyes marked it as something else entirely.

"A Lesser Beast," the grimoire whispered, its tone almost... eager. "Weak, but dangerous if underestimated. A perfect test."

Eren's breath caught as the creature lunged toward him. Without thinking, he raised his hand—and the grimoire responded. Dark tendrils of energy erupted from his palm, striking the beast mid-air and slamming it into the ground.

The creature writhed, its guttural cries echoing through the ruins. Eren stared at his hand, shocked by what he had done.

"Don't stop," the voice urged. "Finish it. Take its essence."

Eren hesitated. The beast was helpless now, its movements weak and sluggish. He could feel its life force flickering, a faint glow that seemed to call to him.

"Do it," the grimoire insisted. "You need strength, Eren. Strength to survive. To conquer. Take its essence, and you will grow stronger."

He hesitated for only a moment longer before closing his eyes and reaching out with his will. The dark tendrils extended once more, wrapping around the beast and pulling its essence into the grimoire. The creature let out one final cry before collapsing into dust.

Eren staggered back, his breath ragged. He felt the power flood into him, a warm, almost intoxicating sensation that made his heart race. But alongside the strength came a pang of guilt.

"You did well," the voice said, its tone almost approving. "But there is much more to learn. Much more to take."

Eren didn't respond. He couldn't shake the image of the creature's final moments, the way its essence had felt as it entered him—raw, primal, and filled with terror.

"This is just the beginning," the grimoire continued. "There are far greater challenges ahead. And far greater rewards."

Eren nodded slowly, his resolve hardening. He didn't trust the grimoire—not fully—but it was right about one thing: he needed strength. If he was going to survive in this shattered world, he couldn't afford to hold back.