The frozen wasteland of Antarctica stretched endlessly before Varnok as he left the ruins of his castle behind. The stolen memories from the adventurers had given him a clear picture of where he needed to go; "E-499", a research facility that acted as a trade center and teleportation hub. It was the closest thing to civilization in this desolate continent, and it would serve as his gateway to understanding this new world.
His borrowed leather armor provided adequate protection against the biting cold, though his enhanced physiology barely registered the temperature anyway. Each step through the snow was measured and purposeful, his enhanced senses constantly scanning the environment for threats or opportunities.
The landscape was just as it was from his memories with just a few minor differences. Where once there might have been chaos and bloodshed everywhere you looked, now only ice and rock remained. The great fracturing that had split the world had clearly taken its toll on this region. Yet life persisted, as it always did. His acute hearing picked up the skittering of creatures moving beneath the snow, the distant calls of aerial predators, and the ever-present whisper of mana flowing through the atmosphere.
That mana was both a blessing and a curse. In his weakened state, he could absorb it to fuel his abilities, but the process was painfully slow. His most devastating power, "the ender flame" that could erase anything from existence, required significant preparation. Where once he could unleash it at will, now he needed at least five minutes of focused absorption to charge even a basic version.
The irony wasn't lost on him. The most feared being in the world's history, reduced to rationing his power like a novice mage.
Three hours into his journey, his senses detected movement ahead. Multiple heartbeats, rapid and synchronized. The sound of chittering filled the air, followed by the distinctive click of claws on ice. His lips curved into a predatory smile as he recognized the formation, a hunting party and HE was the target.
They emerged from hidden burrows in the snow like a tide of nightmares. Vorpax. Each creature was roughly the size of a large dog, their bodies a horrifying fusion of stingers and mandibles. Chitinous plates covered their segmented bodies, while powerful mandibles clicked hungrily as they surrounded him. Their compound eyes reflected the pale light, and their segmented tails curved overhead, ending in venomous stingers that dripped with paralytic toxin.
Twenty-three of them. A respectable hunting pack.
The largest vorpax, clearly the alpha of this group, reared up on its hind legs and released a piercing shriek that echoed across the wasteland. The others responded immediately, their formation shifting as they prepared to attack in coordinated waves.
Varnok's eyes shifted from blue to grey as he began drawing mana from the atmosphere. The process was frustratingly slow... each second stretching as the creatures positioned themselves for the assault. But he had fought worse odds before, and these beasts, while dangerous, were still just that.... Beasts.
The first wave struck with brutal efficiency. Five vorpax rushed him from different angles, their movements perfectly synchronized. Varnok twisted away from snapping mandibles, his enhanced reflexes allowing him to dodge the worst of the assault. His fist connected with the nearest creature's head, the impact crushing chitin and sending it flying backward.
But the coordinated attack left him exposed. A second vorpax clamped its mandibles around his left arm, its serrated teeth sawing through leather and biting into flesh. Pain flared as the creature's grip tightened, but Varnok's response was immediate and brutal. He grabbed the beast's head with his free hand and twisted, the sharp crack of breaking chitin echoing across the ice.
The third wave was already upon him before he could fully extract his arm. A stinger lanced toward his back, and while he managed to turn away from a killing blow, the razor-sharp tip slashed across his shoulder blades, leaving a burning line of pain through his armor.
The vorpax didn't give him time to recover. They attacked in perfect coordination, forcing him to constantly move, dodge, and strike. His enhanced strength and speed gave him the advantage in individual confrontations, but their numbers and tactical precision made every moment a struggle.
Two minutes into the battle, Varnok had killed eight of the creatures, but the survivors were learning from his tactics. They began attacking in smaller groups while the others circled, forcing him to divide his attention between immediate threats and potential ambushes.
A particularly cunning vorpax feinted high before sweeping low with its claws, nearly taking his legs out from under him. Another used its fallen packmate as a springboard, launching itself at his head with mandibles spread wide. He caught it mid-air and hurled it into two of its companions, sending all three tumbling across the ice.
Four minutes. The mana gathering was nearly complete, but he still had nine vorpax circling him like sharks scenting blood. They had grown more cautious now, having witnessed the fate of their packmates. But caution only delayed the inevitable.
The alpha vorpax, recognizing the threat, let out another commanding shriek. The remaining creatures abandoned their careful positioning and charged as one, betting everything on overwhelming him through sheer numbers.
It was exactly what Varnok had been waiting for.
At the five-minute mark, his eyes blazed with gathered power. The remaining vorpax were clustered together in their final assault, presenting him with a perfect target. He opened his mouth and exhaled.
The ender flame erupted from his maw. A focused beam of destructive energy that carved through the air like a sword of pure annihilation. The beam struck the center of the vorpax formation and expanded outward, consuming everything in its path.
The creatures were erased from reality. A fate their ancestors had come to learn of and fear. In the space of a heartbeat, nine vorpax became nothing, leaving only empty air and the taste of ozone with the lingering memory of their screams fading into the void.
Varnok closed his mouth and surveyed the battlefield. Fourteen vorpax corpses littered the ice around him, their bodies already beginning to freeze in the bitter cold. The cut on his arm had stopped bleeding, and the slash on his back was a minor inconvenience at best. More importantly, he felt stronger.
The essence of the erased creatures flowed into him, their life force adding to his own power. It was a small increase, but every fragment brought him closer to his former strength. More significantly, the successful use of his ender flame had exercised abilities that had been dormant for eons.
He continued his journey toward E-499, leaving the vorpax corpses for the scavengers. The battle had been instructive, his reflexes were still sharp, his instincts intact, but his power reserves remained frustratingly limited. Five minutes to charge his most basic destructive ability was unacceptable. In his prime, he could have erased the entire pack with a thought.
But that would come in time. Every battle would make him stronger, every absorbed essence would restore what had been lost. The world had grown dangerous in his absence, but danger was just another word for opportunity.
Two hours later, the angular structures of E-499 appeared on the horizon. The research facility disguised as a trading post was larger than he had expected, with multiple buildings connected by enclosed walkways. Mana-tech devices hummed with energy, their purpose unclear but their sophistication impressive.
Guard towers flanked the main entrance, their occupants no doubt scanning the approaches for threats. Sensor arrays swept the surrounding area with mechanical precision, while the main gates bore the distinctive glow of energy barriers.
Varnok paused at the edge of the facility's perimeter, studying the defenses with a predator's patience. The memories he had absorbed painted this place as a hub of activity. Researchers, traders, adventurers, and mercenaries all mingling in a delicate balance of commerce and secrets.
It would be his first real test of how well he could blend into this new world. The question wasn't whether he could destroy the facility. Even in his weakened state, he was confident in his ability to level the entire complex, albeit with a long charging time and not through frontal confrontation. The question was whether he could walk through those gates and accomplish his goals without any problems coming up.
The most feared being in the world's history was about to go shopping?
He began walking toward the main entrance, his footsteps steady and purposeful. The hunt for his former power had begun, and E-499 would just be his starting point.
Behind him, the wind scattered the ashes of the vorpax across the frozen wasteland, leaving no trace that they had ever existed at all.