Meanwhile, Jelo started to think about how he could break free and get a Dabba heart. His mind was racing, working through the logistics even as his body screamed in pain. The headache was getting worse with every passing minute, and the system’s warning kept echoing in his thoughts:
<For every hour without consuming a Dabba heart, you will lose health.>
He didn’t have much time.
But even if he managed to escape the group and find a Dabba, how could he be sure it wouldn’t kill him? He was weak. His stats were low. His abilities were barely developed. A Dabba was a monster, a creature that had nearly wiped out humanity. What chance did he have against one in his current state?
For a moment, he considered taking Atlas with him. Atlas had proven himself capable in a fight. He had that golem ability, and he’d held his own against two Class 2 students. Having backup would increase his chances of survival significantly.
But Jelo quickly decided against it.
He didn’t want anyone to know his secret. The system, the need to consume Dabba hearts, the slow transformation happening inside him, none of it was normal. If Atlas found out, he’d have questions. Questions Jelo couldn’t answer. And if Atlas told anyone else, if word got out...
No. It was too risky.
Besides, if the system told him he needed to eat Dabba hearts, it must believe he was strong and capable enough to handle one. The system had given him abilities. It had given him dragon claws, fire manipulation, the devourer trait. It wouldn’t have tasked him with something impossible.
At least, that’s what Jelo told himself.
He resolved to go alone.
Now he just needed an opportunity.
-----
After they’d walked for a while, the students started to relax. The initial tension and fear had worn off. No Dabba had appeared. The landscape, while eerie and desolate, seemed safe enough. The constant vigilance faded, replaced by casual conversation and distracted glances at the ruins around them.
The teacher had stopped near what looked like a dried-up riverbed, a deep, winding trench carved into the sand, its edges lined with cracked stone. She was explaining something about how this had once been a flowing river, a source of life for the settlements in the area before the Dabba attacks.
"This river," she said, gesturing at the empty trench, "sustained hundreds of people. It was their primary water source, their way of irrigating crops, their connection to other villages downstream. When the Dabba came, they poisoned it. The chemicals they released into the air and ground seeped into the water, making it toxic. Within weeks, everything here died."
The students listened, some taking notes on their wrist devices, others just staring at the barren landscape with quiet horror.
Jelo hung near the back of the group, his eyes darting around. This was his chance.
The teacher was distracted. The students were focused on her or on the riverbed. No one was paying attention to him.
He glanced to his left. There was a group of large boulders clustered together, maybe twenty feet away. They were tall enough to hide behind, and beyond them, the landscape stretched out into more ruins and sand dunes. If he could just get there without being noticed...
Jelo took a slow, deliberate step backward.
No one looked at him.
Another step.
Still nothing.
His heart pounded in his chest. The pain in his head made it hard to think clearly, but he forced himself to focus. He couldn’t mess this up.
He took one more step, then quickly turned and ran toward the boulders.
His footsteps were soft against the sand, muffled by the wind that had started to pick up. He ducked behind the largest boulder and pressed his back against the rough stone, breathing hard.
He was free from the group.
-----
Meanwhile, unknown to Jelo, Mira was very observant.
Throughout the journey, she had been on edge. She’d been eager to see a Dabba but they hadn’t seen one yet. The teacher kept saying the area was mostly cleared, that rogue Dabba only appeared occasionally, but Mira had her doubts.
This was a new place. An unpredictable place. And it was difficult to protect yourself in areas like this, especially from anything that might be hiding in the boulders or the ruins. Dabba were ambush predators. They were smart. They waited.
Even though she’d tried to convince herself that this wasn’t the teacher’s first time leading a class here, that the place was probably safe for student exploration, that the teacher was capable enough to handle anything that might arise, she still found herself extremely vigilant and guarded.
Her eyes constantly scanned the surroundings. The boulders. The ruins. The dunes. Anywhere something could hide.
And that’s when she noticed Jelo.
He’d been acting strange all day. She’d seen him stumbling through the corridors that morning, barely able to walk straight. She’d seen him in the cafeteria at lunch, looking pale and woozy, like he was about to pass out. And now, here, he was fidgety. His movements were off. His glances around were suspicious, as if something was wrong or he was planning something.
Mira frowned. What was he up to?
She decided to keep an eye on him while still scanning the surroundings.
The teacher was still talking about the river, explaining how the toxins had spread, how the ecosystem had collapsed. The other students were listening, some asking questions, some just staring at the dried-up trench.
And then, when nobody was looking, the whole class occupied with the river and the teacher talking, Jelo suddenly disappeared.
Mira’s eyes snapped to where he’d been standing just moments before.
He was gone.
She looked around quickly, her gaze sweeping across the area. And then she saw him. He was slipping behind a group of boulders off to the side, his movements quick and furtive.
What the hell?
Mira’s mind raced. Why would he leave the group? The teacher had explicitly told them to stay close. Leaving the group in a Dabba-infested zone was suicide. Was he stupid? Was he trying to get himself killed?
Or was he planning something?
Mira glanced at the teacher, who was still talking. None of the other students seemed to have noticed Jelo’s absence. They were too focused on the lesson.
She made a decision.
She was going to follow him.
Creeping closer to the boulders while the class remained distracted, Mira began heading in the same direction Jelo had gone. She moved carefully, keeping low, her footsteps silent against the sand. Her heart was pounding, but her expression remained calm and focused.
She reached the edge of the boulder cluster and paused, listening.
Nothing.
She peeked around the side of the nearest boulder.
Jelo was there, pressed against the stone, breathing hard. His face was pale, his eyes unfocused. He looked like he was about to collapse.