Chapter 3: First Taste of Power

Chapter 3: First Taste of Power

The Primal Path began not with a mystical ritual, but with the scent of rust and old sweat. Leo found himself in "Iron Will," a 24-hour gym that was little more than a concrete box filled with aging, clanking metal. It was the kind of place where dreams went to die under the weight of bench presses. But for Leo, it was a crucible.

The System interface, now a permanent fixture in his vision, had populated his quest log with a new, grindingly repetitive task: [Daily Quest: Forge the Vessel]. The objectives were simple and brutal: push his body past its breaking point. Every day.

He gripped the cold, knurled steel of a barbell. His muscles, sore from the alley, screamed in protest. He remembered Julian’s words, the engine of a supercar. Right now, it felt like a beat-up lawnmower engine. He pushed up, the weight trembling. His old limit was pathetic. But now, as his arms shook, a blue notification flickered at the edge of his sight.

[Primal Energy surging to meet demand. ENDURANCE attribute temporarily boosted.]

A strange warmth flooded his limbs, pushing back the fatigue. It wasn't just adrenaline; it was a deeper, more fundamental energy, a raw power drawn from the beast within. He grit his teeth and pushed, the bar rising with a groan of protesting metal. He managed one more rep than he’d ever done in his life. Then another.

[STRENGTH +1]

The notification was a hit of pure dopamine. It was real. Tangible progress. For the first time, the pain felt productive, like he was carving a new self out of his own weak flesh. The memory of his powerlessness in the alley, the scent of garbage and fear, became fuel for his fire. He worked until his muscles were liquid fire, until the only thing left was the cold, clean data of the System telling him he was getting stronger.

But the physical transformation was only part of the quest. The other, the one that gnawed at his gut, was still pending. [Objective: Sever your most significant remaining human bond.]

He found Alex sketching in their usual spot, a small café that smelled of roasted coffee beans and charcoal pencils. They sat by the window, a slash of afternoon sun illuminating the silver rings on their fingers. They looked up as he approached, and their face broke into a smile of pure, unadulterated relief.

"Leo! Oh my god, I was so worried. You just dropped off the map. Are you okay?"

The genuine concern in their voice was a physical blow. The old Leo, the one who wasn't trying to level up his CONTROL stat, would have collapsed into that warmth. But the quest objective pulsed in his vision, a stark blue reminder of his new path.

"I'm fine," he said, his voice flat. He remained standing, a deliberate act of creating distance.

Alex's smile faltered. They tilted their head, their perceptive eyes scanning his face. "You don't look fine. You look… wound tight. Did something happen at work? Is it your landlord again?"

"It's nothing you can help with," Leo said. The words tasted like ash. He was reciting a script written by Julian's cold philosophy. Compassion breeds hesitation.

"Don't say that," Alex insisted, putting their pencil down. "Leo, we're friends. You can talk to me. Whatever it is, you don't have to go through it alone."

The pack of the past anchors you. The System’s text felt like it was branded onto the back of his eyeballs. This was the moment. The final, brutal push.

"Friends?" Leo let out a short, harsh laugh. "You mean you feel sorry for me. Don't pretend this is anything else. You look at me and you see a charity case. The college dropout slinging beers in a dive bar. It makes you feel good to try and 'save' me, doesn't it?"

The hurt that flashed across Alex’s face was visceral. It was a clean, deep cut. "That's not true," they whispered, their voice trembling slightly. "I care about you. The real you."

"You don't know the real me," Leo snarled, leaning forward, letting a sliver of the beast's cold anger into his voice. "You know a ghost. And I'm tired of your pity. I don't need it. I don't need you. So just stay away from me."

He saw their heart break in their eyes. The warmth was gone, replaced by a crystalline shock and a deep, wounded sadness. He had taken their loyalty and twisted it into a weapon against them. For a horrifying second, he felt a surge of regret so powerful it almost made him retch.

But then, it happened. A triumphant chime, audible only to him, echoed in his mind.

[QUEST COMPLETE: The Alpha Protocol - Phase 1] [REWARD: +10 to CONTROL, Skill Unlock: [Intimidation], 50 Apex Points (AP) Awarded.]

[USER STATUS UPDATED:]

CONTROL: 13/100

A wave of icy calm washed over him, extinguishing the guilt. It was a clean, sharp feeling of power. The pain he’d inflicted on Alex was already fading, replaced by the satisfaction of a completed objective. He turned and walked out of the café without a backward glance, leaving Alex sitting alone in the warm afternoon sun, their world suddenly cold.

The final test of his new power came that evening at The Rusty Mug. His boss, Mr. Henderson, a balding man with a perpetual sneer and sweat stains on his shirt, cornered him by the overflowing dish pit.

"Leo!" he barked. "You were ten minutes late. That's coming out of your pay. And look at this floor! Did you even mop it last night? It's pathetic. You're pathetic."

This was their routine. Henderson would berate; Leo would clench his jaw and take it, the beast snarling uselessly in its cage. But tonight was different. He had a new tool. He focused on the rage Henderson was stoking, but instead of letting it consume him, he channeled it.

A new option appeared in his interface. [ACTIVATE SKILL: INTIMIDATION (COST: 5 PRIMAL ENERGY)?]

He focused his will on ‘YES.’

The air in the cramped, steamy kitchen instantly grew heavy and cold. The clatter of the bar outside seemed to fade away. When Leo looked up, his eyes felt different. Henderson, who had been puffing out his chest, suddenly faltered. His sneer evaporated.

To him, Leo's face hadn't changed, but for a split second, superimposed over it, he saw the phantom image of a massive, snarling wolf, its lips peeled back from dagger-like teeth. He saw a predator sizing up its prey. The primal, reptilian part of his brain screamed at him that he was no longer talking to a dishwasher; he was talking to something that could tear his throat out.

"What… what did you say?" Henderson stammered, taking an involuntary step back and bumping into a rack of glasses.

Leo didn't raise his voice. He didn't have to. The skill did the work for him, infusing his words with a chilling, predatory weight. "I said," Leo began, his voice a low growl, "that you will stop talking to me. You will pay me for my full shift. And you will never speak to me that way again. Do you understand?"

Henderson's face was pale, sweat beading on his upper lip. He couldn't look away from Leo's eyes. He could only nod, a jerky, terrified motion.

"Good," Leo said. He turned back to the dishes, the oppressive atmosphere vanishing as quickly as it had appeared. Henderson practically scrambled out of the kitchen.

Leo leaned against the sink, his heart pounding not with fear, but with a wild, exhilarating rush. He had bent another person to his will. He had dominated them. The guilt over Alex was a distant echo, drowned out by the roar of this new, intoxicating power. It was terrifying.

And it was addictive. He wanted more.