LEVEL EVERYTHING UP in my Eldritch Tribe

Lyerin nodded, his eyes briefly meeting the distorted gaze of the grotesque creature that was once a little girl. "You're welcome," he murmured, the words leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. He turned slightly, ready to make his escape, but then, from behind him, he heard the faint buzzing of insect wings growing louder, signaling the return of the Mother Queen's swarm.

Lyerin glanced down at the object in his hand—a twisted, pulsating organ that he had ripped from her flesh—and then back at the approaching swarm.

"Bye," he said, his voice tinged with urgency as he prepared to bolt.

"Bye bye, mister," the girl replied in her pitiful, broken voice. But then, just as Lyerin was about to turn away, she called out again, her voice halting him in his tracks. "Mister, are you coming back for me?"

The question hung in the air, thick with a mix of hope and desperation.

Lyerin felt a pang of blood in his chest, an uncomfortable tightness that he couldn't quite shake. He wasn't supposed to feel this way, not about someone like her. Not about something like her. But still, the weight of her words pressed down on him, stirring emotions he had long since buried.

"I…" Lyerin hesitated, his mind racing. He didn't want to lie, but the truth was just as cruel. "If I can survive," he finally said, the words slipping out before he could stop them.

"I hope you survive so you can come back," the girl responded, her voice carrying a sincerity that twisted the knife in his gut even further.

Lyerin stood frozen from her words that seemed to echo in his head.

For a long, agonizing moment, he couldn't bring himself to move, trapped between the logical part of his mind screaming at him to run and the human part of him that couldn't bear to abandon her completely. Finally, he nodded slowly, forcing himself to speak. "I will," he said, the lie heavy on his tongue.

And with that, he turned and walked away, each step feeling like it took a piece of his soul with it. He could still hear the faint buzzing of the insects as they closed in on her, but he didn't look back. He couldn't. Not if he wanted to keep moving forward.

Once outside the building, Lyerin's face twisted into a grimace, a sour expression that mirrored the turmoil inside him.

He felt bad for the girl, for what she had become—a victim of the government's twisted experiments, just like so many others. But there was no saving her, no reversing the mutation that had warped her body and mind.

What he had done was merely a temporary relief, a fleeting moment of comfort before the inevitable happened. In time, she would produce another of the same twisted organ, and the pain would be even greater than before.

Lyerin clenched his fists, trying to shove the thoughts away, to focus on his mission. He had a goal, a purpose—to level up, to kill enough Eldritch Fleshers to ascend to the Ninth Stage Second Cycle Eldren Warrior. That was what mattered. Yet, as he took a step forward, a sharp, metallic sound rang out in his mind.

| Ding!

The sudden notification froze him in place. Lyerin's eyes widened in shock as the words flashed across his vision.

| Mission Failed! |

"What?" Lyerin whispered, his voice barely audible. "Why? How?" His mind raced, scrambling to piece together what had gone wrong. And then it hit him—the memory of his earlier encounters with the girl, with the Mother Queen.

The first time he had met her, he had been surrounded by her swarm, and he had killed one of the insects under her control, causing it to explode. The second time, when he had come back to retrieve the organ, he had killed more of her bugs.

Realization dawned on him, cold and unforgiving. "Shit," Lyerin muttered under his breath, swallowing hard. "That's why…"

The pieces fell into place with brutal clarity. By killing the insects under her control, he had unwittingly violated the terms of his mission. Each kill had been counted against him, and now, because of that, he had failed. The object in his hand, the organ he had risked so much to retrieve, was now nothing more than a reminder of his failure.

Lyerin stood there, the weight of the situation pressing down on him like a ton of bricks. "Should I go back?" he mumbled to himself, his mind a whirlpool of conflicting thoughts. "If I go back and execute her, I could just throw her body outside and then invite the Fleshers inside… and then collapse the building. That would give me enough kills to level up fast."

The idea was tempting, so tempting that he almost turned back right then and there. It was the logical choice, the cold, calculated move that would get him what he needed. He could finish the job, eliminate the Mother Queen, and use the resulting chaos to boost his kill count. It made perfect sense.

But then, Lyerin shook his head, the image of her pitiful face flashing before his eyes. Even giving her an easy death seemed painful—especially if he was the one to do it. The thought of driving his blade through her heart, of ending her life with his own hands, sent a shiver down his spine.

"Damn it," Lyerin cursed, his voice low and filled with frustration. "I shouldn't have talked to her. I shouldn't have given her hope."

He clenched his fists again, the nails digging into his palms as he wrestled with the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him.

This was his weakness, the one thing that had always held him back, even in his past life—the personality that was created starting from officer Reed's righteousness.

No matter how much he tried to harden his heart, to shut out the feelings that made him vulnerable, there were moments—like this one—where he couldn't help himself. Where he let his guard down, just for a moment, and gave in to the part of him that still cared.

It was a deep-rooted flaw, one that had cost him dearly time and time again. And now, it has cost him his mission.

"I should have just killed her," Lyerin muttered, his voice filled with self-loathing. "It would have been easier… cleaner. But no, I had to talk to her, and I had to make it worse."

He shook his head again, trying to clear his thoughts. He needed to move on, to find another place, another opportunity to complete his mission.

Standing here, wallowing in regret, wasn't going to change anything. What's done is done. There was no point in dwelling on it.

Lyerin took a deep breath, forcing himself to let go of the guilt that weighed on him. He had made a mistake, but he couldn't afford to let it drag him down.

Not when there was still so much to do.

After a long moment, Lyerin finally turned away from the building, his expression hardened once more. He wouldn't let this failure define him.

There would be other chances, other missions. He just had to keep moving forward, no matter what.

With that thought in mind, Lyerin began to walk, his steps steady and purposeful as he left the building behind. He didn't look back—not this time.

The past was the past, and he had to focus on what lay ahead.

There was no time for regrets.

Not anymore.

Lyerin hoped.