Level-Up Apocalypse: Surviving With The Assimilation System

Chapter 36: Self Assimilation

Like a blossoming flower, he witnessed a parade of limbs rupture through the surface, coiling around one another while expanding outward from the entity's position. The ebon arms varied in size, from that of a normal human to sizes comparable to a redwood tree trunk, all of which began to unfold and stretch towards him.

In the matter of a second, his vision was engulfed by the countless palms. He leaned back, sliding back across the unruly waters as the abyss formed into chaotic waves with the rush of limbs.

The hands reached, grasping at him, clawing, and even slamming towards him. Finn ducked his head as a hand tried to grab at his head, before jumping up briefly as he felt one swiping at his legs. All the while as he evaded the grotesque limbs, he adjusted his balance on the unsteady surface of the abyss.

'--What do I do? These attacks won't stop coming, and I can't hurt that thing. Can I not do anything? Am I meant to just die? No–that can't be it,' he thought.

Before his eyes, the limbs of abyssal fluid shifted; the black substance was dispersed as decayed bone was revealed beneath. Threads of flesh extended, weaving together into muscle for the limbs.

The grotesque shift was completed as Finn witnessed the many arms now accompanied by multiple faces of what looked to be skinless hounds straight from hell. Each of the arms, now layered in bare flesh, grew claws, belonging to the howling skulls that lunged at him.

It was like a nightmarish wall placed between him and the faceless entity, keeping him on the backfoot.

Once more, the young man questioned if his sanity was simply far too gone, though that was no longer a question; he knew the occurrences straight out of a fever dream were all too real.

'I can't–' He thought, finding himself unable to avoid the swarm of hands and snapping jaws.

He was forced to hold his ground, placing his hands in front of his body as he pushed back against the disembodied, bestial skulls and claws. Even if it was a futile effort, he managed to halt the wall of claws and snapping jaws; he felt his muscles coil with strength, burning red-hot from the strain.

It was unquestionable that his jump in levels had astronomically improved his physical capabilities, though it made no difference as the horrific skulls of the eyeless hounds broke through.

"Gah!--" He let out.

The jaws bite into his shoulder, while another pair sank its teeth into his side, pressing down on his ribs. It was difficult to ignore the part of his brain that urged him to grab the monstrous skulls as they bit into his flesh, knowing if he moved his hands away, the swarm of hands would eviscerate him.

Even so, the claws still ripped into his arms, lacerating his forearms while the bodiless hounds sank their teeth deeper into his flesh.

"Nnngh…!" Finn strained, struggling as he found himself faced with an inescapable look into death.

All he could see were those snapping jaws and the hungering claws, seeking his flesh without any out. Blood squirted from his newly-formed wounds, though that was an outcome he had hoped for as a gasp left his mouth–

["Crimson Shot"] [Mana: -150] [1000/13000]

All of the blood that left the bites on his body and the carvings on his arms were ignited like fire to gunpowder. He released the blast of the scarlet essence from his wounds, blowing away the skulls into fragments of bone along with the ravenous hands into a red mist.

"...Hah…" Finn breathed out, once more left with the sight of the faceless entity amidst the boundless abyss.

There wasn't even so much as a moment spared for him to catch his breath before he found his ankles suddenly gripped from below.

"What?--"

As quickly as he shot his gaze down, finding abyssal hands wrapped around his legs, emerging from the depths below, they pulled him down. He tried to reach up out of instinct, though it did nothing to help him as he was plunged into the dreadful abyss.

Utter darkness engulfed his vision while the repulsive liquid filled his lungs. It tasted sour and bitter, ushering a sickening feeling through his body as his body panicked to breathe. He waved his arms around to no avail; the abyss was much more dense than water, feeling as though he moved through liquid cement.

It was hopeless; he found himself unable to draw a breath as he struggled, only being dragged deeper and deeper into the harrowing unknown. In the clutches of death, as dread filled his lungs and hope left, there was only one option that came to mind:

The dagger he held in his right hand was brought up to his neck. It wasn't as simple as choosing the easier way out rather than being drowned, but rather, it felt like the natural action to take.

Rather than let himself be dragged any further as he flailed helplessly, he took his fate into his own hands, plunging the dagger into his neck.

A cold chill ran through his body as the tip slid right past his skin, skewering his throat as he could feel his life essence flooding out into the unforgiving depths.

["Finn Thorne defeated."]

A chilling frost engulfed him. He perceived true darkness; different from the abyss he was dragged into the depths of. It was empty; desolate, without any true meaning to it. A void in which he floated with nothing, not even a thought in his mind.

[Assimilated ability from ["Finn Thorne"]: "The Art of Dying" | 1 / 5]

Yet, if it was truly death that he had sank into, then he questioned why he felt that strange resonance inside of his chest–

Thoomp-thoomp. Thoomp-thoomp. Thoomp-thoomp.

That rhythm of life echoed through his ears like a light in the darkness; it was the percussion of his own heart, thumping loudly as if claiming to still be alive. No, it wasn't quite that; he did die–he felt that truly within his soul.

Building a crescendo from a quiet thump to a sound that filled his ears, the rhythm of his heart was a reawakening; a return from the other side.

"Pyuuh–!"

As his eyes shot open, he found himself staring at that pitch-black sky again, spitting out the black fluid from his lungs. He was floating on the surface of the abyssal sea, laying in it as its lifeless coolness encompassed his body.

'I'm…alive?' He questioned, feeling his own neck where he knew he plunged his dagger.