Level-Up Apocalypse: Surviving With The Assimilation System

Chapter 35: Alone In The Dark

Before he could even properly give in as a lack of will brought him to a still, he found the ground rippling beneath his feet. At least, he believed it was solid ground; the sand he stood on was gone, finding himself standing on the surface of the abyssal sea.

He glanced up, seeing that the strange, black-fleshed entity had changed its pose. It stood with its left fist raised, as if having thrown an uppercut.

"What?--" Finn questioned.

Erupting from the unseen depths below, something rose as the innate reflexes of the assassin brought him to raise his arms. In that split-second, he witnessed what had risen; a fist matching that of the entity, only dozens of times larger.

Out of instinct, the ability plundered from his lost friend activated itself–

["Impervious"] [4:59]

As the mass of shaped darkness struck him into the air, he flipped himself around to gain control of his own momentum. He landed on his feet, sliding back a bit as he watched the colossal fist disperse back into the sea.

'--I activated that skill on reflex? I was struck directly, but I didn't even feel it. A momentary invincibility?' Finn discerned, finding his arms still shaking even if they hadn't been harmed.

A single glance up found the mysterious being of malice stomping its foot into the ground multiple times.

["Phantom Flow"]

The stream of darkness beneath his feet allowed him to surf atop the abyssal sea, sliding back as colossal extensions of the entity's foot erupted from the surface. He spun around, having to slip back as a pair of hands erupted, attempting to catch him like a fly between two, slamming palms.

It felt as if he had been shaken awake as his mind fired off on all cylinders.

Even if he believed himself uncaring of his life, the presence of the nefarious entity sparked his body to move. More than living, he feared dying by the hands of that horror; a fate perhaps worse than death.

The continuous eruption of limbs from the abyss halted as the nimble man was able to come to a stop.

"I'm afraid?" Finn muttered to himself, wiping the water that had splashed onto his face.

Whether he valued his own life or not, the aching of his heart provided him some meager amount of resolve. The guilt that weighed heavy on him; the death of those he cared for.

At the very least, that burden made him feel that at the very least, he should try his best to survive, for those that couldn't.

["Gale Blessing"] [2:59]

'…I've been thinking of this all wrong. Real, fake…It doesn't matter. It's all a gray line, changing by the moment. What I see before me is real—I'll trust that,' Finn convinced himself.

Stretching in every direction as far as the eye could see, the boundless sea of black was not an ideal environment to fight upon. Just standing atop the rippling water made his stomach spin, though he had to push past that feeling.

The shroud of wind aided him as he slid across the abyssal waters with a graceful speed.

He set his sights on the faceless manifestation of the dead, flicking his wrist towards it.

["Throwing Knife"] [Mana: -50] [1250/1300]

["Replication"]

The unison of both skills created two projectiles that soared towards the unholy entity. Both of the thin blades were on target, yet the faceless one suddenly contorted its body.

It shifted its torso to the side, dislocating its own hips to seamlessly move its tar-like flesh out of the path of the projectiles.

'It dodged that—?' Finn tiredly thought.

Before he could completely register the flawless evasion, he felt a ripple just in front of his right foot. He attempted to move back, though not quite agile enough.

An object penetrated the abyssal surface, piercing upward as it sliced against his left forearm.

"Nnh!—"

As he looked at what had cut him, it appeared to be some sort of sharpened pillar of spines. Nonetheless, blood leaked from the laceration on his arm, forcing him to act quickly.

["Dark Thread"] [Mana: -100] [1150/1300]

A thin, but sturdy line manifested at his fingertips to extend and use as he pleased. He quickly wrapped it around his arm, tightening it enough to where it squeezed down before cutting the thread off.

It helped to close his wound shut, halting the bleeding, though it was only a temporary fixture.

'Going off of what I've experienced so far, this isn't just some illusion. At this point, it feels like reality itself is a fever dream within this city. This thing…It's the "Final Boss" of this nightmare, isn't it?' He thought, flexing his arm as he confirmed the bleeding to have stopped.

Maintaining the stream of shadows at his feet, he surfed continuously along the surface, not risking standing still as he could feel the depths rippling all around him. He kept his eyes locked on the faceless entity, watching its every move.

As he opted to move in closer, he was intercepted by what rose from the unseen depths: tentacles like that of a raging kraken ruptured through the surface, whipping around wildly. Though they resembled limbs of such a creature, he recognized them as the very same spines that had cut him before.

As he slid back, one of the rampaging spines struck by, grazing his chest. It was minimal contact, though enough to cleave right through his uniform, leaving a laceration across his chest.

He gritted his teeth, at least thankful for the burning pain of the wound as it kept him conscious and ready to fight for his survival.

"Replication," he invoked.

The command caused an emission of a shadow from himself, molding itself from his shape. It wasn't a weapon he opted to copy, but himself; a one-to-one doppelganger was sprouted. As he glanced over at the copy of himself, meeting eye-to-eye as if staring into a mirror, he could feel a slight fatigue in his body.

It had been awhile since he had looked into a mirror, finding the spitting image of himself a saddening sight; his tired eyes with dark eyes beneath them, the stains of dirt and blood left on his skin, and the grim expression.

'It's a lot more demanding to replicate myself, it seems. From what I've gathered, I can only replicate one physical target at a time–between a weapon or myself. I might still be able to duplicate skills, though,' he considered, quickly running through the information he had.

Together with his dutiful doppelganger, he surfed atop the abyssal surface, opting to split up as the copy took a left path towards the entity, going right himself.

Through the chaotic mess of the bone-made tentacles, he skated across the surface, spinning around one that slammed towards him. The doppelganger did the same, closing the distance while evading in much the same fashion.

A single glance to what his copy did brought him to a far too close encounter with one of the abyssal spines, having to lean back while sliding forth as it whipped just above his gaze.

"Hah–" Finn expelled a breath at the closeness to being bisected.

As he straightened himself back out, he had a clear path towards the faceless embodiment of the dead–

["Blink Slash"] [2:59]

Finn found himself jumping ahead a dozen meters in an instant, dragging his dagger across the neck of the entity. Up close to it in that sparse moment, he found that it was inhumanly tall; nearly three meters in height.

The sensation as his blade dragged across its unusual flesh left a sickening feeling in his stomach, like digging his weapon into a pit of wriggling worms.

["Blink Slash"] [2:59]

At the exact moment, not a millisecond apart, the doppelganger performed the same skill, slashing across the back of the entity. The strikes from both ends didn't halt the faceless humanoid from retaliating, as it raised its arms with the abyss rippling.

There was an unspoken connection between himself and his replication, not having to say anything as they acted in unison.

From his lips and out of the doppelganger's as well: "Replication."

["Blink Slash"] [2:59]

["Blink Slash"] [2:59]

The duplicated instance of the skill brought himself passing by the malevolent figure again, slashing across its torso as his copy did the same against its back. Even with the multitude of quick slashes, he glanced back to see there was no harm left on the abnormal body of the tar-fleshed one.

'What? That didn't do anything?' He thought.

Maintaining the doppelganger was becoming tiring, bringing him to relinquish it as he placed distance between himself and the entity. It seemed to be the right call, as the figure raised its arms with sinister intentions.

"Can't catch a break, can I?" Finn uttered.