Frey had dug for at least an hour before hitting a layer of compact earth laden with stone. His measly shovel clearly not befitting of clearing such obstacles.

He pressed on despite the inadequacies of his equipment to no success. He didn’t even make it an inch past the stones.

Having accepted the limitations of his equiptment Frey pulled the young mans body from the wreck. Struggling to hold the weight of the much taller man, he dragged the body and lowered it into the grave. He began covering the corpse with dirt.

Upon completion of his task he now stood over what would certainly be called the world’s shallowest grave. 

The sun had begun to set and it only added to the melancholic atmosphere.

Frey hadn’t been a very emotional person but the one thing that got to him most were the intricacies of death, the wasted potential, what was left behind. 

Still though in the face of the situation an odd numbness saturated his mind. A sensation he had not experienced before in all his twenty-three years. Certainly not when his grandmother had passed, he had been quite miserable in the face of her death.

He didn’t feel the way he expected to feel about the young man. He had thought he would feel more, he expected a sense of kinship, he expected sadness. Instead all he felt was a strong feeling of pity accompanied by a twinge of disgust. Disgust so deeply hidden within his subconscious, Frey wasn’t aware of it himself.

A young man around his age had left the world, alone in a horrific car crash. He could have been bleeding out trapped, scared and suffering for hours. The potential his life held snuffed by the update.

Yet Frey wasn’t sad?

What’s wrong with me? He thought inwardly.

He had been staring at a mound covering the body of a human being, just like him, and yet he felt no sadness?

Is this… real? He questioned for what seemed like the thousandth time.

Sunlight was dwindling fast, a realisation dawning on Frey. Logic took the wheel, he lamented only for the briefest moment at how stupid he had been. He had set out on foot to town, a town nearly fifteen kilometres away.

How did he expect to make it before nightfall? How did he expect to survive if the world had truly fallen to pieces?

Why had he been so readily influenced by the change presented to him by this “System”.

In the face of consequence, all of Freys decisions now seemed utterly reprehensible and yet, he didn’t falter. He remained calm.

*Crunch* *Crunch* *Crrck* 

Footfall sounded out in the distance.

I need to leave. 

Frey didn’t know what was making the sounds, he didn’t know what else could be out there in the mountains and he didn’t want to find out. Especially in the dark of night.

The best he could hope for were more Orthopterans, a foe he had faced and one he could defeat.

He gathered his belongings, which were lacking to say the least, his bag and a water bottle were all that remained, he hadn’t even brought his phone or a torch. Somehow the idea hadn’t even entered his mind.

Another out of character action to take note of. Frey was carefree but not so carefree as to neglect the basics.

Seriously Frey, maybe, just maybe, you could’ve thought this through more.

He started towards the bank where he had descended into the forest. 

The sun setting behind him, providing the radiance of golden hour.

Frey looked up at his daunting climb, more so a scramble. It looked a lot harder getting back up than it was to come down.

Despite the challenge before him, he began to climb, gripping tree trunks for support and pulling himself up.

The lactic acid built in his legs, the burning sensation accumulating.

*Crunch* *Crunch*

The footfall drew closer.

Alarm bells ringing in his head Frey climbed faster, faster than his body could truly handle, the burning now assaulting his legs, he gritted his teeth, sweat dripping down his forehead.

With momentous speed, Frey mounted the summit of the bank, immediately turning and falling prone. Mud coated his clothing and the coolness of water soaked his skin. His hands gripped the hilt of his not-so mighty shovel tightly.

He gazed downwards, trying to find the source of the sound.

Four Orthopterans marred his vision. In the distance below they could be seen searching. 

Shit, looks like the other two had some friends.

One Orthopteran, larger than the other three, seemed to hold something in its arm. Its antennae, unlike the others with thin wiry antennae, were thick. Like the beads on a necklace. Its eyes held a faint glow within them.

That’s one dodgy looking cunt.

Upon closer inspection it wasn’t holding anything at all. In place of its forearm and clawed hands it possessed an organic sword made of its own exoskeleton. 

…dodgy and deadly.

Frey knew nothing of the creatures really other than what he already knew about standard Earth grasshoppers, he didn’t know if that information translated over nor did he want to make any assumptions.

Remembering the notification he received earlier he opened the bestiary tab and took a look at the entry to gain insight on his enemy.

_____________________

< Orthopteran >

Type: Monster

Orthopterans are a race of relatively weak monsters possessing low intelligence, they often work in groups to circumvent their weakness as an individual. Orthopterans have been know to live in tribal societies, usually lead by a higher level evolved Orthopteran.

0/10 Slain till next entry

______________________

Looks like the tall fella is an “evolved” monster.

…. aaand, I need to kill some more if I want anymore info. Nice! Frey noted sarcastically after reading the bottom of the display.

*Cheep* *Chit*

The group at that moment had found where Frey had just buried the young mans body. 

*Chit**Chit**Chit*

The leader then began issuing orders to his underlings, pointing in various directions. The other three acknowledging the commands setting out every which way.

One headed straight towards where Frey had been hiding.

Shit! Shit! Shit!

Not knowing what else to do Frey froze, praying he wouldn’t be seen, hoping in the fading light he’d remain hidden. 

In a few short moments the flitting of wings darted over him.

He braced expecting an incoming assault. It never came, the flitting slowly fading into the distance.

Huh? Shit-house eyesight I guess. Frey thought to himself.

Frey maintained his position, watching the leaders movements. He had a high ground advantage and something deep inside was telling him to make use of it. It was almost instinctual.

He knew they were capable of closing short distances at speed, their powerful legs and wings made him painfully aware of that.

Daylight was dwindling fast and Frey did not want to be stuck in the dark, alone, in the mountains surrounded by enemies.

He felt… no he knew he needed to nip it in the bud before he could no longer see what hunted him.

Frey knew his only chance would be to handle them now, while what was left of the light remained, where his human eyes maintained their efficiency. 

He knew his Brazilian Jiu Jitsu training was rendered effectively useless on an enemy with a built in blade. Grappling would be essentially inviting the monster to impale him. Even without the blade the thorny legs of the monsters were formidable in their own right. From his prior experiences, as long as he maintained distance they had very few methods of damaging him.

Ruling out grappling Frey assessed his chances with a weapon.

His shovel being over a metre in length provided him with a means to stave the creatures off. The leaders sword-arm, only being fifty centimetres or so, Frey saw himself at an advantage in terms of weapon reach.