The wind changed.
That was the only warning.
No sound. No vibration. Just a sudden shift in the thread currents—those faint, drifting silver lines that floated through the dungeon air like lazy spider silk.
They twisted.
Pulled inward.
And the forest moved.
Kaito stopped walking.
The salt-dust path beneath him cracked faintly as something stepped onto it ahead—no more than a dozen paces away.
It didn't snarl. Didn't announce itself.
It just appeared.
A creature, low to the ground, long-limbed and twitching. Its body was pale and thin, like wire coiled around sticks. No eyes. No face. Just a single vertical slit in the middle of its head, blinking sideways like a sideways mouth.
[ SYSTEM SCAN ACTIVE… ][ ENTITY: THREADSPAWN - STRAY CLASS ][ RANK: F ][ BEHAVIOR: PREDATORY // SOLO ]
A low buzz in the back of Kaito's skull. His fingers went numb.
Then the thing charged.
He barely moved in time.
It lunged with a jagged, snakelike motion—arms snapping forward like bone whips. Kaito threw himself sideways, the creature's claws slicing through the place he'd just stood.
He hit the ground hard, shoulder skidding in the dust.
His bag spilled open.
The utility knife clattered onto the dirt.
He grabbed it without thinking.
The thing hissed—not a sound, really, more like a pressure, a push against his ears—and turned again, limbs twitching.
Kaito stood.
His heart raced.
But he didn't back away.
[ THREADSENSE: ACTIVE ][ ATTACK ARC: RIGHT - ANTICIPATE 1.4 SEC ]
[ DEFLECT OPTION: COUNTER WINDOW 0.3 SEC ]
The silver lines shimmered faintly across the thing's arms—like predictive traces, showing where it would strike before it even moved.
He didn't know how he knew.
He just knew.
It lunged again.
This time, he ducked.
Spun beneath it.
And brought the knife up into its underside—wild, clumsy, but with weight behind it.
The blade bit.
Not deep.
But enough.
The thing shrieked. Threads burst from the wound like black silk unraveling in water.
It stumbled.
Kaito followed through.
Slashed again.
Once. Twice. Third time into the neck.
And the creature collapsed, limbs twitching.
Dead.
Silence.
No level-up.
No system fanfare.
Just the sound of his breathing, rough and uneven, and the scent of dust and iron.
The threads around the corpse began to fade, dissolving into the air like ash on the wind.
Kaito stared at his hands.
They weren't shaking.
Not yet.
[ THREAD TRACE ABSORBED ][ SYSTEM CALIBRATION: 14% ]
He didn't rest.
He kept moving.
Kept listening.
The dungeon wasn't just forest now—it shifted as he walked. Trees gave way to warped stone ruins, broken bridges over dry creeks, pathways lined with statues that had no faces.
The second fight came two hours later.
This one was faster. Smaller. A four-legged creature shaped like a deer, but with teeth and no eyes, and legs that bent the wrong way.
He tried to run at first.
But it followed.
And when it leapt—
He turned.
Sidestepped.
And drove the knife into its side.
Not clean. Not pretty.
But enough.
By the third fight, he had started to understand his breathing mattered.
So did his stance.
The creatures were still weak. Still fragile.
But they were learning him just as much as he was learning them.
The last one didn't shriek when it died. It just slumped forward, threads hissing from its open spine like steam.
He wiped the blade on his sleeve.
Sat down on the edge of a broken wall.
And looked at his reflection in a puddle of thin, oily water.
Not the same boy who walked into the rift.
Not yet a warrior, either.
Just someone trying to become something.
[ SYSTEM CALIBRATION: 16% ][ ABILITY TRACE: THREADSENSE - STABLE ]
[ NOTE: THREAD RESPONSE TIME DECREASING. USER SYNCHRONIZING. ]
Later, he found a shrine again—this one not broken.
It stood alone on a stone platform, surrounded by empty statues and dried offerings. The threads here were thick, almost visible to the naked eye, swirling around the gate like vines.
Something about it pulsed in time with his breath.
He didn't enter.
He just sat beside it.
A moment of stillness.
His first since entering.
The knife rested beside him.
His fingers ached.
His hoodie was torn at the sleeve.
And when he looked down at his hands, he finally noticed—
They were shaking.
He let them.
Let the moment pass.
Let the weight settle.
And didn't run from it.
Because he knew this wasn't over.
The dungeon was still watching.
And somewhere deeper inside, stronger things were waiting.