The days following Kai's acceptance of the System's first quest, "The Lay of the Land," settled into a precarious, exhausting rhythm. He was living a fractured existence, the mundane struggles of his old life clashing violently with the monstrous secrets of his new one. His Draconic Energy Reserves were a constant, nagging concern, the System's interface a persistent overlay in his vision, reminding him that they would deplete within approximately 48 standard hours without "sustenance." The [+50 EXP] from the quest had nudged him to 65/100 towards Level 2, a slow, arduous crawl. The info-broker contact, Silas "Whisperwind" Rook, remained an unused data packet in his memory; he had no idea how to approach such an individual, nor the courage to try.
School was a particular kind of torment. His newly enhanced Draconic Senses, even at their nascent Tier 0, made the crowded hallways and noisy classrooms an overwhelming barrage. He could hear every whispered conversation, smell the stale synth-kaf on Mr. Harken's breath from across the room, see the intricate patterns of dust motes dancing in the weak light with an almost painful clarity. He found himself constantly fighting headaches, struggling to filter the deluge of information. Elara's innocent comment about his "funny cat eyes" had made him paranoid, and he spent a considerable amount of mental energy trying to consciously suppress any tell-tale glow or unusual pupil dilation, a task the System unhelpfully noted as [Minor, continuous Draconic Energy drain due to active physical suppression protocols.]
Sera Kaelen remained a distant, intriguing figure. He'd often see her in the training yard during breaks, practicing forms with a focused intensity that was both admirable and intimidating. Her movements were fluid, powerful, purely human yet radiating a disciplined strength that made Kai acutely aware of his own reliance on the alien power thrumming within him. She never spoke to him, but he sometimes felt her observant grey eyes on him, her expression unreadable.
Leo's friendship was another source of strain. His best friend was full of questions Kai couldn't answer, his concern growing with each evasive response Kai offered for his increasingly erratic behavior, his pallor, his sudden disappearances into the night. "You're burning the candle at both ends and in the middle, Kai," Leo had said, his usual cheerfulness replaced by a worried frown. "If you don't tell me what's wrong, how can I help?" Kai could only offer hollow reassurances, the guilt a heavy stone in his gut.
The nights were when the true horror of his new existence took hold. The System's hunger imperative was relentless. To avoid another desperate, uncontrolled assimilation like the one with the sump-scavengers, Kai began to venture out as "Umbra," the masked, cloaked persona he'd adopted. His initial hunts were cautious, terrified affairs. He targeted only the most isolated, truly despicable dregs of District 7's underbelly – lone muggers preying on the elderly near the ration dispensaries, solitary scavengers who had turned to brutalizing others for scraps.
His first few attempts were clumsy, terrifying. His Draconic Power Source felt like a wild beast on a frayed leash. He didn't have access to impressive "Arts" yet, just his slightly enhanced human attributes (STR 6, VIT 6, AGI 6, PER 6 from the initial assimilations and the "Lay of the Land" quest), his rudimentary Draconic Senses, and the cold guidance of the System. He'd rely on stealth, surprise, and the sheer shock value of his masked appearance. The "assimilations" were always horrifying, leaving him retching in dark alleys, the EXP gained feeling like thirty pieces of silver. [VITAL ESSENCE ASSIMILATED (1x Low-Grade Humanoid – Malnourished/Desperate). Draconic Energy Reserves: +15%. Minor Attribute Enhancements (Permanent): +1 Stamina (Base 5 -> 6). EXP +5.] The gains were pitiful, barely enough to keep his energy reserves from bottoming out, let alone make significant progress towards Level 2. The System constantly reminded him: [Assimilation of weakened/low-vitality essence provides minimal evolutionary benefit. Seek more potent sources.] But the thought of tackling anyone stronger, anyone who might fight back effectively, filled him with a paralyzing fear. He was not a fighter, not a killer. He was a courier, a son, a brother, trapped in a nightmare.
This precarious balance was shattered one rainy evening when he returned to his apartment, soaked and shivering from a fruitless, aborted hunt (his target had been scared off by a passing Enforcer patrol). A bright crimson notice was plastered to their door, its official lettering stark and brutal against the grimy plasteel: EVICTION ORDER – FINAL NOTICE.
His mother was inside, slumped at their small table, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs. Elara sat beside her, her small face pale with fear, trying to offer comfort. "Ma?" Kai whispered, his heart plummeting. His mother looked up, her eyes red-rimmed and filled with a despair that tore at him. "They… they sold the building, Kai," she choked out. "The new owners… they tripled the 'service fees.' Said we're four cycles in arrears on the new rate. We have… we have seven days to pay, or they'll have the Enforcers throw us out onto the street." She named a sum that was astronomical, utterly impossible for them to acquire through any legitimate means available to a District 7 family.
Seven days. The words were a death knell. The thought of his mother and Elara, homeless, vulnerable, in the brutal, uncaring streets of District 7… it was unthinkable. The meager credits he earned from his courier runs, even if he worked himself to exhaustion, wouldn't even make a dent. His Umbra hunts yielded no monetary gain, only the grim sustenance his System demanded and a pittance of EXP.
Desperation, cold and absolute, gripped Kai. He had to do something. He had power now, a monstrous, terrifying power, but it had so far only brought him pain and self-loathing. Could it be used for this? Could he somehow turn this curse into a means of saving his family?
He thought of the stories Leo told, whispers of underground fight clubs in the deepest, most lawless sectors of District 7, places like "The Pit" or "The Rust Bucket Arena," where desperate souls battled for credits, for a chance, for survival. Non-MOD fights, mostly, brutal and often unregulated. The idea had always horrified him. But now… now he had enhanced strength, vitality, agility, perception, stamina. He wasn't a trained fighter, but he was no longer the frail boy he once was.
The risk was enormous. If he was injured, if he lost, if he drew the wrong kind of attention… But the alternative, seeing his family cast out, was worse. The System, as if sensing his desperate thoughts, remained silent, offering no guidance, no quest. This decision, it seemed, was entirely his own. As he looked at his mother's tear-streaked face and Elara's frightened eyes, a new, harder resolve began to form amidst the despair. He would not let them fall. If he had to step into the shadows of the fight clubs, if he had to risk everything, he would. The Dragon System had taken his old life. Perhaps it was time to see if it could help him build a new one, however bloody the foundations.