The sun slips below the horizon as a warm breeze rolls languidly through the verdant foliage of the rooftop garden. I sigh contentedly before rising quickly into a full-body stretch. My joints crack and pop as the breeze gently washes away my fatigue and I begin jumping up and down to clear the sleepiness from my mind.

It’s during this time that I hear an alarm chime in the distance shortly followed by a wave of nausea and a sharp spike of pain in my head. I drop to the ground before feeling a rush of air pass the back of my head and neck. Springing back to my feet I aim a light punch at whichever of my friends decided to spook me. Dizziness grips me, lights dance in my vision, and an intense, dull pain blooms across my knuckles as they strike what feels to be a combination of metal and rough stone. I let out a grunt of pain while preparing to curse out whom I can now only assume is my friend Mark for blocking with a damn cinder block. His surprises have been strange before but never this blatantly idiotic.

Continuing to ignore the alarms as I turn around and jump back, a pathetic mewl escapes from my lips as I’m confronted not with the reassuring grin of a hard-headed friend, but with the snarl of a slavering, snorting ape. I have barely enough time to register neon lights highlighting the unusual black-and-red stripes of the creature before it launches itself at me, Instinct and what middling athletic training I’ve had throughout my life kick in quickly enough that I’m not struck and thrown from the building; I am struck, however, and hard. But landing spread-eagle in the bushes from a glancing blow beats landing face-first on the concrete after a several-hundred foot fall any day of the week.

Thoughts of where this beast came from fall away as I scramble to my feet. A surge of adrenaline floods my system all while my body locks up and panic grips my insides with an icy fist. I lock eyes with the beast as it makes its way arrogantly forward. Three elongated, pitch-black ovals split the beasts face. They mock me, boring into my soul. I feel a resurgence of fear as my body soundly refuses my orders to move.

The hold trepidation has over me would be absolute if its edges had not been worn away by familiarity over the course of my life. I forcefully remind myself that this is nothing more than an intense heightening of the panic I’ve experienced for as long as I can remember. I let the instinctual fear wash over me before pushing it away from my mind as I rise to my feet. I harness the emotion and burn it as fuel for my survival. My vision shakes and my hands tremble as a grin slides its way across my face. It may have been a while since I’ve needed to fight for my life and, while not exactly welcome, I allow the heady rush of the thrill to wash over and consume me.

The beast and I lock eyes and a spark of understanding flashes across it’s face. Only one of us will be alive after this is over. Having seen the change in my bearing and demeanor, the beast is no longer completely certain of its victory… Either that or it’s just shocked I didn’t get turned into meat paste when it charged me.

With all arrogant swagger gone from its bearing it snarls at me, foul spittle flying in all directions as it prepares once again to charge. The grin slips from my face as I return the snarl in defiance, shouting a wordless, guttural challenge to my would-be killer.

I yank out the knife in my boot and twist to the side as the beast charges. It attacks using the same headfirst strategy as before and, taking advantage of this, I'm able to plunge the knife directly into its back with almost no resistance. As I whip the knife out of the beast expecting blood and howls of pain I'm confronted not with the rage of a wounded animal, but the indignation of one that has been tricked. A sinking feeling nestles its way into my stomach as I realize my knife didn't even make it past the beast's fur.

I stumble in shock. If I can’t cut past this thing’s fur how on earth am I going to keep it from ripping me to pieces? Maybe I can knock it off the building somehow? A plan begins to form in my mind and a small sense of relief begins to wash over me.

The next thing I know I’m blinking away swimming images of the night sky while trying to make sense of my jumbled thoughts. They clear enough for me to realize the beast backhanded me hard enough to send me sprawling.

I scramble to my feet and hop backward while keeping the woefully-insufficient knife between me and the indestructible rage-machine. I briefly wonder how I kept hold of the knife before noticing the death grip I have on the weapon and don’t think I could loosen it even if I tried. I feel my back hit the wall of the connected building and I make a decision. This thing is tough as nails and hard as stone. It also seemingly isn’t very intelligent and has a rush first, ask questions later policy. I let the beast rush at me again as I dodge to the side at the last moment.

A boom reverberates through the building as the beast collides with the concrete wall. Chunks fly outward and I’m struck painfully in the chest and thigh. I ignore the sensation as I launch myself at the stunned form of the beast. I squeeze the knife with a white-knuckled grip and swing it like a hammer, driving the tip repeatedly into the face and eyes of the beast. No matter how much effort I put into the blows my knife doesn’t sink more than an inch or two into the beast. I keep swinging despite this. The knife refuses to penetrate far enough to kill the creature but the force of the blows severely halt its ability to compose itself.

The knife goes flying out of my sweaty grip and I scramble to grab a large chunk of concrete that was knocked loose in the collision. By the time I’m turned around the beast has regained its feet. It begins huffing wildly and a throaty roar looses itself from the beast’s chest. I contemplate letting the beast charge again but something in its stance warns me it may have learned its lesson.

Before I can fully form a plan of attack, my instincts drive me forward and I swing the concrete chunk with everything I have at the maw of the beast. The blow hits the beast directly in the face and I’m left stunned for a moment. I slowly realize that while the stab wounds may not have done much damage overall, they did do enough to blind the beast and cause it to fully miss-judge its block.

I’m pulled from my thoughts by a shifting at my feet. The beast isn’t dead. Multiple stab wounds to the eyes as well as crushing blow to the face with a chunk of concrete and it’s still moving. I recover before it can compose itself and begin to rain blows upon its head and neck. I watch in numb satisfaction as the last vestiges of life flow from the beast. After all life has passed from it I bask in its demise and bathe in the euphoria of a conquered challenger. I allow the rush to consume me and carry me away on wings of gold. The feeling threatens to rip itself from my chest and I begin to shake in mirth. Everything feels right. A symphony of sound and light dance across my senses but I’m too focused on the thrill of besting a beast that intended to end me. It is overwhelming. The power, the rush, the-

Vomit begins pouring from my mouth in a geyser. The rush fades and the trembling remains. Numerous cuts, scrapes, bruises, and other wounds scream their protests to my aching body and I double over in an effort to lesson the agony. It doesn’t work, but it does get me close enough to the ground that I feel the contents of my stomach begin to splash back onto my face and neck. The vomiting stops and I fall onto my side. I have no strength left with which to push myself to my feet and am still shaking too much from the adrenaline and nerves to do anything with that strength if I did have it.

While not dignifying at all, this position allows me to finally catch my breath. I feel my energy begin to return and reposition my head and neck. From this angle I get a good look at the felled beast. While smaller than I had originally thought, the beast looks almost identical to any number of ape except for the black and red fur. Someone’s exotic pet let loose maybe? I realize this is a foolish notion when I get a good look at the back of the beast.

The tail is stouter than I would expect from an animal this size. This isn’t what surprises me, however. What does surprise me is the fact that the tail ends not in fur, but in a jagged, chitinous stinger. One which is almost exactly the same size and shape as a wound on my leg I can now see oozing blood.

I grit my teeth and let out a whimpering cry as I begin to lose all sensation near the wound; all sensation except for the pain that is. A burning begins at the wound and worms its way deeper into me from there. I stare daggers at the beasts corpse while taking solace in the fact that, at the very least, I was able to survive long enough to feel this pain. Instead of, you know, dying a quick, painless death or something horrible like that.

No, I get to survive long enough to feel myself die a lonely, agonizing death. Just wonderful.

Something is bothering me, however, and I can’t quite pin it down. And yes, I do mean something other than the agony in which I find myself and the fact that I have no idea what the hell just happened. Or that I’m likely dying. I relax my vision and take in my surroundings. The sensations. The sounds. The sights.

And it hits me; I didn’t have enough time to piece together everything I was seeing because of how quickly it happened. The alarms. The neon signs. It doesn’t make sense. There are no alarms in this area that sounds this way. These alarms don’t scream emergency. They don’t really scream at all. They sound adventurous, almost hopeful. The neon lights don’t make sense either. There aren’t any up this high and even if there were I shouldn’t have seen them highlighting the beast. The positioning just wasn’t right for that.

I focus my attention on the puddle of water in which the beast fell. Or at least I try. My brain doesn’t process the information until I realize that there isn’t a puddle of water or even any liquid for that matter. The beast is lying atop a mound of dry rubble and soil. The neon letters I see near its corpse aren’t reflected in anything, or even neon for that matter. They stay there, floating just above the beast’s head. It’s difficult without my glasses but eventually I make out the words and fear sends a shiver down my spine.

Venom Ape [Lvl 9]

The spine-shiver reaches its crescendo and lights and sounds explode in my head. I make an effort to push it away but I’m greeted with one foreboding message that makes itself known before my body and mind give out and my consciousness slips away.

Greetings Cade Vale. Welcome to the Totality.