Karnak's breath hitched as the moan slithered through the air, low and guttural, a sound that no human throat should make. He staggered back, his instincts screaming at him to move—to get away—but the weight of his wounds pinned him down.
The man in the glasses… wasn't dead. Not fully. But he wasn't alive, either. His limbs jerked unnaturally, as if controlled by unseen strings, his head lolling forward before snapping up in an abrupt, mechanical motion. The moan deepened, the hollow noise carrying an eerie finality.
Then his eyes opened.
Or rather, what was left of them. The once-pale irises were swallowed by darkness, veins branching outward like cracks in shattered glass. His lips parted, revealing teeth that were now sharpened, malformed—like something adapting for a new, terrible purpose.
Karnak barely had time to register the transformation before the lurchers lunged.
The first creature, the grotesque fusion of crystal and flesh, swiped its jagged claw at the reanimated man. The strike connected, carving deep into his side—yet he did not flinch. Instead, his body twisted in ways it shouldn't have, an unnatural flexibility replacing the rigid pain of mortality.
The man—no, the thing—moved before the second lurcher could react.
With an unnatural burst of speed, he closed the distance between them. His arm shot forward, fingers stretching unnaturally, clawing into the creature's throat. There was a sickening crunch as his grip tightened. The lurcher thrashed, jagged limbs scraping against his body, but the attacks barely slowed him down. Then, with a grotesque wrench, he tore out its throat in one savage motion, a wet gurgle escaping from the dying beast.
The crimson-robed abomination screeched—a high, grating noise that made Karnak's skull feel like it would split apart. The man in the glasses turned toward it, cocking his head, as if listening… no, as if understanding. The mouths stitched into the abomination's flesh began to whisper faster, the ancient language twisting the air, warping reality around it.
Karnak's vision blurred. His heartbeat pounded in his ears. A deep wrongness filled the space.
But then—
The reanimated man lunged, cutting through the air like a shadow unchained from its host.
Flesh met flesh.
No hesitation. No mercy.
The mouths screamed.
And then… they fell silent.
Karnak gasped, his pulse thundering as he tried to drag himself upright. His limbs felt like lead, his wounds pulsing, but his mind was screaming at him to move. Now. Before it turns on you.
The man—or whatever he had become—rose slowly from the heap of twisted, butchered flesh that was once the lurcher. His breaths were deep, ragged, like he was rediscovering how to breathe.
Then, slowly, he turned to Karnak.
The hollow eyes locked onto him.
Yeah, this wasn't the kind of thing you wanted to be trapped in a room with.
This wasn't just some mindless undead—it was something worse. Something aware. The way the reanimated man moved, how he fought, how he recognized Karnak… that wasn't normal.
Then, a notification flickered in Karnak's vision.
System Update: You have created a new horde.
A chill ran down Karnak's spine as the words pulsed across his vision.
Horde Creation: 1/1
Eli - Evolver: Tireless Stalker.
Eli's body jerked unnaturally, his head tilting at an angle that would've snapped any normal human's neck. His hollow, ink-dark veins pulsed beneath his pale skin, fingers twitching as though adjusting to his new form. The air around him thickened with something wrong—an unnatural presence that made Karnak's gut clench.
Then Eli moved.
One second he was standing there, barely more than a corpse. The next, he was lunging forward, too fast for something that should have been dead. Karnak barely managed to throw himself to the side as Eli's claws—no, fingers, sharpened and reinforced by whatever mutation had taken root—raked through the space where his head had been.
The attack wasn't reckless. It was calculated.
Karnak hit the ground, rolling onto one knee. He reached for his weapon—only for another notification to slam into his mind.
Horde Alpha Detected: Synchronization In Progress…
His breath hitched.
"Synchronization?"
Eli turned his head slowly, those hollow eyes narrowing, tracking him. The way he moved, the way he adjusted his stance—it wasn't just undead instinct. It was tactics. It was hunting.
Karnak gritted his teeth. "Eli…?"
The thing that had been Eli didn't answer. Instead, a twisted grin stretched across his face, far too wide, far too unnatural. And then—
Beep. Beep. Beep.
The system pulsed again.
Horde Commander Status: Initiating Link.
Karnak's mind reeled as an invisible force surged through his body. His vision split—one perspective his own, the other flickering between distant, inhuman sights. A pack of eyes opened in the dark. Shuffling feet. Staggered, unsteady movements growing more coordinated by the second.
The horde was waking up.
And Karnak was at the center of it.
A pulse of cold fire tore through Karnak's veins, his muscles locking up as the system's update forced itself deeper into his mind. The flickering, alien perspectives expanded—disjointed at first, like static-filled glimpses of movement. Then, like gears clicking into place, the chaos aligned.
Karnak felt them.
Not just Eli. All of them.
The rotting, malformed bodies dragging themselves forward. The grotesque, stitched-together beasts snarling in the shadows. The crimson-robed abomination, its hollow whispers laced with something ancient. Karnak didn't just see them—he understood them. He knew how fast they could move, how strong they were, how hungry they had become.
And worst of all?
They could feel him too.
A sudden pressure slammed against his mind, like dozens of fingers clawing at his skull. A chorus of unnatural moans and shrieks rose from the horde, their movements growing sharper, more focused. The synchronization was reaching its peak.
Horde Commander Status: Linked.
Karnak's breath hitched.
Your horde has awakened.
Eli took another step forward, his grin stretching impossibly wide. His voice, when it came, was no longer fully his own. It was layered—his usual tone twisted with something deeper, something ancient.
Karnak's pulse pounded in his ears. He felt Every hunger.