The New World

I grasped one of the spiked prongs along my elbow and jerked. It stayed strut over my skin, the metal strong and dense. I peered up, wondering how harvesting this would work. After wracking my head, I channeled augmentation through my palm. I let the energy course and strip the skin away. In seconds, it bled through my health. As my fingernails loosened and the skin softened, so its connection to the armor over my limbs.

I peeled the armor off my hand, the bloody remnants beneath grotesque and molten. Using another burst of augmentation mana, I snapped off a strip of armor. The actual metal degraded little while the meat beneath it disintegrated. Using the same process, I broke another shard from my other arm and let myself regenerate. As expected, I recovered without any worries.

Taking my time, I carved an identical passage into the unclad armor. Thirty minutes of etching later, I channeled a bit of mana through the smoothed plate. Energy coursed into the rune with ease. Unlike with the metal or wood, this material stabilized under the mana’s current. It kept rigid and stable, easily handling the energy of the mana stream. It also conducted actual augmentation better than the other kinds of matter before it.

This difference in rigidity aided the entire process, evolving the runes from a temporary bonus to a permanent upgrade. Channeling mana, I marveled at the potential of the plate. Without this sheet of my armor, casting augmentation mimicked standing on a surfboard in the middle of an ocean. With the panel in my palms, my casting was like a rock with indentations made for my feet.

Between those two places, a world of difference manifested.

And yet, issues uncovered from this new strategy. Holding a slab of this stuff while fighting limited me, and if I let it go, the incantation’s effects spiralled out of control. Worse still, the drain on my mana ramped up in an explosive surge after the plate stripped from my hands. It kept the same potent effects but not the absurd efficiency. That made this strategy risky albeit potent. I considered a few ways of holding several plates on me, but one solution sprang out instead.

I mean, the metal covered me. It isn’t like I had to tear it off.

Staring down at my arm, it regenerated, the dark material sheening in the forest. If the sigils embedded into the armor itself, I wouldn’t lose the runes. Using an elongated finger, I scratched at the metal on me. It bent into shape with more ease than the torn shards. I marked a small portion of the runes into my right forearm using my finger-knife. The metals grinded against each other as I strained to slice through my skin despite the greater ease.

After another thirty minutes of engraving, a line of symbols laid out on my forearm. Peering at myself in the shade of trees, the incantations felt right to me. The sigils fell in place as if they were a part of me. With a very slight tug, I pulled some mana into the runes. The indentations filled with the energy, controlling the volatile flow.

When I poured mana into wood, it mirrored flowing water through a pipe of sand. Most of the energy poured out into the ether. The cast iron patched up some of those holes by comparison, but inefficiencies lingered anyway. This material on my arm experienced nearly no loss of energy. Even better, the mana molded and shifted without the same struggle as before. It was superior in every way.

I kept pouring more augmentation in, and it swelled into the cracks of my armor. It hissed and crackled. It sparked and popped. I lifted my arm, squeezing my fist.

This was it.

Vibrant, orange lightning streaked through my arm. I gripped my hand with enough strength to crush steel. My armor smiled at my own machinations, pleased with the development. With the glyphs filtering a stream of augmentation, I pulled more and more without my previous eruptions. Excited to test my results, I reared my fist back before slamming it into a nearby tree.

My hand crushed into the bark, lodging itself in the wood. As I pulled it out, splintering chunks fell onto the ground. I gawked at my own might, stunned by the runes working so well. I stumbled onto something effective and efficient without really meaning to. A notification in the corner of my eye explained why.

Skill Unlocked! Soul Forging | Level 1 - Many would change their behaviour and maybe even who they are. You temper yourself more deeply, changing the core of what you are and will be. +1% to precision of runic control. +1% to ease of runic creation. +1% to duration of enchantments on your soul.

Skill Unlocked! Soul Siphon | Level 1 - Some channel energy through their environment. Those who live without fear, they channel mana through their bodies. You live with madness in every breath. You channel mana through your soul. +1% to mana efficiency when channeling it through your soul.

The skills added an explanation for why the whole process smoothed over without any kinks. The names and descriptions of the skills left me chilled, however. They left behind strange, odd implications. I carved into metal over my skin, not into the fabric of my soul. Peering down, I wondered if that was actually the case.

It didn’t seem like it. I mean, the runes on my arm lacked any impact on my personality or thoughts. To the skill’s point, a bit of channeling did embolden my flesh and sizzle my blood, producing a power palpable. Without any real context, I lacked the references for what magic was supposed to be like, however. This was my normal, and it had been since the system started.

And yet, the skills and their descriptions insinuated I dabbled in more than just basic augmentation magic. At the same time, getting augmentation to work any other way seemed...Arduous at best. Raising a brow at my arm, I coursed energy through it. I soaked the energy in. My thoughts remained clear and my mind unmuddled.

If the runes provoked any lingering changes, I’d stop. At that point, nothing felt off, so I marched on. I didn’t want to live in fear, and these runes helped put me ahead of my old self. I didn’t want to look back, so I moved forward. Wielding the strength in my blows, I took a few swings. I stumbled about like a drunken sailor. Having my right arm so much stronger than my left threw me off.

After another half hour of carving, I owned two sets of runic glyphs glowing on each arm. As I clenched my fists, the air hummed with energy flowing between my hands. My engorged health pool and amplified regeneration allowed me to wield more energy than a normal mage of my level. That vitality pulsed in my palms and ran through my arms, an explosive potency at my fingertips.

Taking a moment, I tested out how each arm felt. When I used my normal fighting style, my arm’s swings threw me off balance. The weight behind each blow ruined my previous training, so despite the sudden surge of power, I actually weakened in a real fight. After another hour of carving, I slotted more runes onto the sides of my thighs as well. My forearm sigils eased my etching from the surging strength they granted me.

With the runes finished, I stood up. When I stomped the ground, it caved. When I kicked a tree, wood splintered. The sheer rush of power intoxicated my reason, even though a pure burning scorched my limbs from all angles. That burning seeped into my chest as I kept testing my limits out. After building up my exhaustion, I cracked my neck and rested. Once restored, I tried some more punches and kicks.

It was fun, what can I say?

The extra strength in my legs helped balance my arms, but the sudden shift in strength still took a while to adjust to. After a few minutes of toying with various techniques and stances, I handled the power increase. Another two hours of trying, and I added some complex maneuvers using the extra strength. Whipping my body around trees, swinging on thick branches, and acrobatic leaps added to my fighting toolkit. Like Althea, I aimed to use them.

Even better than battling, my movement took a leap forward. For a long time, I lived in a shelled, metal body. It slowed me down, moving it like swimming through tar. The runes liberated me from my body’s restraints, enabling a mobility I’d never known. While not quite as elegant or explosive as Althea, I gained a ramping kind of speed, a momentum in my movements. She was a speedboat while I was dreadnought, and that suited me just fine.

Wielding my speed with glee, I ran through the forest for a few minutes, enjoying the sudden change in acceleration and power. It was a rush. With A Boundless Storm, I could flip, twist, and move with fluid control. I jumped up, ducked under, and shifted around the trees like my own personal playground. I ended up spending several hours adjusting the runes and their placement while playing in the forest.

Just for that alone, those weeks of effort had been worth it. It gave purpose to my health regeneration when my health capped out too. Adding to the victory, the efficiency modifiers for each of the skills outdid most other common skills. If anything, Soul Forging and Soul Siphon mirrored unique skills in how much of an impact they left on me. Combining them with other abilities might make them even stronger.

I teemed with those excited thoughts as I took full advantage of my mana and toughened body. I realized a vast well of potential at that time. I lacked levels more than anything, and executing on my skills in sync could create more unique or mythic skills. Another strong point, those runic markings hid an underlying promise for all kinds of utilities. My metal skin could be stripped and used for all kinds of magic.

Brimming with excitement, I sprinted back towards the quarry, my stomps tearing bushes and smashing wildlife. Augmentation mana hummed into my surroundings, a low growl as I tore the forest. With my discovery and effort, I aimed to surprise everyone. Even after my harsh conversation with Michael and Kelsey, I wanted recognition from people. That was especially true for people I respected like Torix or Althea. And maybe even Kessiah.

In a way, wanting appreciation was too hopeful. The last time I wanted acknowledgement, I got slapped in the face and by my friends no less. Despite that, I couldn't help but desire recognition. These sigils were something I uncovered mostly on my own, and I brimmed with pride over it. That anticipation fueled me as I jumped into the quarry, my runes unused but still present.

Walking up to Althea and Kessiah, I waited on a dramatic reveal. The girls of our group moved through a few motion exercises, their ducks, rolls, and dodges focused on evasion. It all helped with keeping someone at a distance, and that made sense for Althea, considering how strong she was at a range. Kessiah taught her, not something I expected out of the remnant.

On the other hand, Torix carved out another extra cavern for his inscriptions. He added many of these winding caves over the last few weeks, his efforts reaching a fever pitch. As I approached, Torix peered at me, "Good to see you're still alive. What's been keeping you so busy?"

I put my forearms behind me, "You know, I was just testing some stuff out. I think I found a way of bypassing my lack of control for augmentation."

Torix finished his runes, "Oh, really now?" He turned to me, "Let's see this display of mediocrity...On with it."

I furrowed my brow, letting my hands down, "Y-You ok man? Anything wrong?"

Torix threw up his hands, "What isn't wrong is the real question. We've stayed here for a full week longer than I intended. Yawm's troops are searching all the nearby forests. I’ve combated his efforts for a while now, but it’s only a matter of time before we are discovered. He’ll uncover the plotpoint cluster of combat near this area, and he’ll send stronger forces here."

I narrowed my eyes, “Torix...I don’t think there’s many people who’d think of something like that.”

Torix snapped his fingers, forming a black chair and sitting on it at the same time, “But what if I’m not the only one with a few good ideas? What if this Yawm fellow is far more able than he appears?” Torix leaned against one of his hands, "If Yawm finds us, there will be more than a few complications. I’ve promised Kessiah an exit from this place. Now, I’ve stranded her here on this planet...She’s becoming unstable.”

Kessiah shouted at Torix, “I’m just fine. You’re the one who can’t even handle a single warping ritual. A real archmage, huh?”

Torix hissed back, “Ah yes, do excuse me while you two handle your basic movements over there. I’m creating a tear in the fabric of reality using an ancient runic language in the meantime...And being judged for it.”

Kessiah glared, “Yeah, you’re trying to do that. The problem is you’re failing at it.”

Torix gripped a fist, his anger palpable. I flinched at the thought of Kessiah and Torix fighting it out. Althea and I would be turned into paste and powder. Torix pointed at me and Althea,

"I believe my issues stem from you and Althea. You both are...Are making this difficult. Yes, much more difficult than it should be. Your mana signatures are utterly arcane. It's an amalgam of different energies, and I-I can't make sense of it. Not without a far higher perception than I currently have."

I leaned back, "That sounds...Difficult to deal with, I think. Is there anything we can do? Maybe us leaving would help?”

Torix sighed before dragging a skeletal hand down his face, “No, that won’t be necessary. I’m merely coming up with excuses. How unbecoming of me. Please, dismiss my outbursts. I've been stressed as of late. I shouldn't shout at children for my own failings."

I let my hands flop onto my hips, "It’s alright. I've been yelled at a few times, so I’m used to it."

Kessiah paced up, her eyes hungry, "Oh really? Do tell."

I scratched the back of my head, "Uh, let's talk about this later. I had something to show you all."

Kessiah leaned onto one of my shoulders, “Yeah, yeah, sure. That can wait till later. Tell us about being yelled at. I want to hear about that.”

I pushed her off, “Just wait until I show you guys something first.”

Kessiah raised a brow, “Tell me or I’m leaving.”

I narrowed my eyes, “If you don’t want to be here, then just go.”

Kessiah smirked down at me, enjoying my reaction, “Not until you tell me about who yelled and why.”

I spread out my hands while shaking my head at her, “Can you drop?”

She flicked my forehead, “I don’t think I will.”

She tried taking advantage of me, thinking she found weakness. I aimed to show her strength. I snapped at her, "Huh...Alright. Fine. When I was a child, my mom died."

Kessiah’s demeanor changed, and she pulled herself off of me. Her desire for knowing evaporated as she mouthed, “Oh...Er, sorry to hear about that."

Turning the situation on a dime, I stared at her and stated,

"She died of cancer, and it wasn't quick either. It took half a year for her to pass. My dad was there with me when it happened. You know, it wasn’t so bad at the start. But thenn, disease stole her strength. That wasn’t so bad. After that, it stole her health. We all grieved, but we did it as a family.”

I glowered at Kessiah, my words like iron, “It wasn’t until it stole mom’s smile that we broke down.”

Kessiah blinked, coughing into a hand. She gulped, becoming uncomfortable. She mouthed, “That sounds awful. Like I said...Sorry to hear that.”

Angry at Kessiah, I spoke about those memories, each of them frozen and numbed by time,

“It was worse than awful. Dad broke when that disease stole my mom’s smile. It was a surreal thing for me. I guess I noticed when my mom quit taking care of the roses my dad bought her.” Feigning strength, I shrugged, “It’s like those roses mirrored her will to live. When they died, she died along with them.”

A tense silence passed over us, thick and heavy as molten mercury. For me, those memories already calcified into shards of stone. I felt nothing from them, having already moved on. For Kessiah, she held onto a memory that mirrored my own. Something fresh and open and vulnerable. That hurt exposed itself as I spoke, and I dug my words in with all I had.

In a way, that was my retaliation against everything Kessiah had said to me since she arrived. It was a surreal scene. I turned one of deepest wounds into a profound weapon. Breaking the silence, Torix’s eyes flared green. The lich peered down, "I'm sorry for your loss. Losing family is one of the hardest experiences anyone may suffer."

Ripping my glare away from Kessiah, I waved off Torix’s apology, "It all happened a long time ago. I'm over it. Point is, my father started drinking after my mom died. At that point, he started falling apart. He made damn sure I fell apart with him.” I simmered, “Dad stopped keeping the house clean. He stopped going out with friends. Eventually, he stopped smiling too.”

I gazed at Kessiah, “So I’m used to getting yelled at. There. Happy now? Or do you want to know anything else personal?”

Kessiah peered away from my gaze, “Yeah, I’m...I’m good.”

I stood tall, “Good.”

Torix leaned back before staring at the wall for a moment. He tapped the edge of his chair for a few seconds. An awkward atmosphere settled over us like a layer of lung burning ash. Torix waved his hands to interrupt the quiet,

"She’s sorry for prying...I know Kessiah didn’t mean to open old wounds.”

I rolled my shoulders, "No, you’re wrong. She did. She was prodding me for a reaction, and she got one. Don’t play that down."

Torix stared down for a second before he met my eye, "Ahem, I hope you remember our conversation from earlier. That pain you carry can make you strong or weak. That hinges on whether you run from it or accept it. In that manner, our past defines us. It makes us who we are. At the same time, we decide what our pasts make of us."

I swallowed some sadness. I nodded, "Yeah. I know, but thank you for the reminder." Not expecting to blow up like that, I glanced at a wall. Torix walked up, "So, disciple, you mentioned you had something to show us. Perhaps you wouldn’t mind sharing that now? At least to this old bag of bones here."

Torix tapped the side of his head, and dust fell off of him. Torix pointed at the dust, “Emphasis on old.”

A reluctant smile ran up my lips before Althea walked up. She peered up at me, “I want to see it too...Is it, uhm, those markings on you? They look fancy.”

I pulled up my forearm, my excitement dwindled to a lowlit ember. I poured mana into the runes, creating the vibrant, burning glow. A darkened orange energy rippled out with crescents of electricity. I stared at it, "I learned some of the runes you're using. I carved them into my armor. It worked out."

Torix grabbed my arm, his eyes flaring white, "Is this what you were doing over these past three weeks?"

I leaned back from him, "Yeah. It was."

Torix leaned close towards the etchings, "Remarkable...How does it translate...Ah, that's a strange wording you used there, but it fits, it fits...Remarkable, truly remarkable. You engraved this yourself?"

I nodded before Torix let go of my arm. He spread out his hands, "Incredible. So much progress...I wouldn’t believe it if I hadn't seen it with my own two eyes. This is fine work. Very fine."

I peered off, blushing a bit, "Ah, it's not that big a deal. I just thought it would help with my fighting style."

Torix turned a hand, "Oh, it’ll do more than merely that.” Torix nudged me with an elbow, “And besides, humility doesn’t suit a disciple of mine. Come on. Stand tall with your shoulders back. It makes you looke better when you do so.”

Pulling me out of my grim mood, I did as the lich asked. He spread out his hands, “There, that’s more like my disciple.”

I really appreciated him saying that to me then and there. It made a world of difference. After propping me back up, Torix swiped a hand, “As for the runes, they will be potent tools, should they not destroy you. This wouldn’t be the first time you’ve done something insane, however...Precisely what skill did you use for this?"

I opened my menus, forgetting the skills’ names. I murmured after a while, “It was...Soul Forging and Soul Siphon."

"Soul Forging? I've never heard of it. I suppose your armor would be the crux of that mystery, however. Hm."

I tapped my armor, "Maybe it's because the armor's an extension of me or something? That means carving into the armor with these runes acts like carving into my body."

Torix tapped the armor, "It seems to me that you're giving your armor commands in a language it understands. It’s very strange, as this would never work on a normal person. Your body would deform at best. At worst, you’d roast yourself alive. For those reasons, I’d have advised against this if I had known you were doing it.”

Torix peered off, “But alas, my surveillance has suffered since I’ve been consumed with this disgusting ritual. Blegh. If only it were over."

I peered at a spike near my elbow, “Before we talk about that, do you mind telling me what’s so dangerous about the sigils?”

Torix put his hands behind himself, “They work with magic, not flesh and bone.”

I tapped the side of my head, “Blood Magic, remember?”

Torix leaned back, “But of course...Blood Magic. Gah, I must say, this was clever. Very clever. And here I thought you were simply insane.”

Augmentation radiated out of my arms and legs, “This is insane?”

Torix nodded, “Oh, most certainly. It should warp and deform your personality, roast your blood and flesh, and it should even alter your body. As for the skill’s name, Soul Forging, it should cause mental changes that are both unfixable and permanent. Being immortal, I’d rather not risk my soul like that. After all, I’ve got an eternity to lose should I make a mistake with any kind of soul manipulation.”

He turned a hand to me, “For you, you’ve barely lived at all yet you put the little life you have left on the line...And at all times. It’s incomprehensible to me.” Torix gave me a nod of respect, “But by putting yourself at risk, you also put yourself in a position to gain. As before, it has worked once more...Well done.”

I grinned at Torix, a bit more than I meant too. Torix raised a hand, pacing back and forth, “But, if we can create a more efficient conversion of this formula, we can come up with an even greater effect." Torix slapped my back, "Hah. I knew I chose you to be my disciple for a reason."

I peered up, standing tall. Torix’s response outdid any expectations I had, and I beamed at him, "Heh...No problem."

Torix rubbed his hands, "Excellent. With this, we should have plenty of ways to fight against Yawm once we meet him."

Silence passed over us before Kessiah chimed in, “Speaking of Yawm, are you trying to get me to help fight him? Because, this whole ritual is taking a whole hell of a lot longer than you guessed it would.”

Torix let out a sigh, “I really don’t understand what’s going on right now. I’ve developed the coordinates and set everything in stone. I’ve even made numerous augments via these additional caves. Nothing is working, which-”

Torix leaned back, his eyes flaring red. He murmured, “Oh dear, that isn’t good. Give me one moment.”

The necromancer pulled out a circular, clear sphere with a gray ring around it. He tapped it, and Kessiah walked over. The remnant’s eyes widened, “What’s going on?”

Torix poured black mana into the crystalline orb, “That’s what I’m wondering as well. Something’s amiss.”

Kessiah grumbled, stepping away, “Let me know when you finish your obelisk business. Don’t think I’m letting you off.”

Torix gave her a curt nod, “I wouldn’t dare.”

A blue ball expanded from Torix’s glass orb,surrounding the lich and me. Cold air splashed across my face from atop a mountain. Clouds floated along an endless horizon, other peaks etching into the skyline. Two suns shone in the distance, and a gentle wind whistled in my ears. All the sounds from outside muffled in as if we swam underwater.

I reached down for the soft snow beneath me, but my hand phased through the white powder. I rubbed my fingers together, this experience mirroring a simulation. It was as convincing as real life, and I gawked around at the surreal scene. Snapping me from my stupor, Torix sent me a message. As I read it, his voice rang out in my head.

Torix Worm, of Darkhill | Level 1,236 | Unknown - Make certain you utilize personal messages here. The obelisk will convert thoughts into messages, should you decide to send them. This is primarily for privacy when we may need it at times, but in this case, there’s something that needs my inspection.

I frowned before thinking up a message and sending it over.

Daniel Hillside, The Harbinger of Cataclysm | Level 105 | Unknown - So what exactly is an obelisk? You mentioned it helped with Schema’s system format.

Torix Worm, of Darkhill | Level 1,236 | Unknown - That’s correct, but as you may have noticed, an obelisk enables many more utilities outside of UI improvements. They may add options to it as well since Schema is rather stingy with his processing power. Obelisks enable a smooth interface with data you collect from Schema’s status, letting you use it.

Personally, I use them for organizing my experiments, skill trees, etcetera. You can buy one from the Force of Iron for the price of a few dungeon cores, should you elect to do so.

Torix moved a few floating screens from in front of himself, organizing them.

Torix Worm, of Darkhill | Level 1,236 | Unknown - Despite their many advantages, I despise these devices, but at times they are necessary. Obelisks offer convenience, saving innumerable hours of administrative work. I do worry that this convenience comes at a cost, however. Many struggle to focus on real events and more mundane details after immersing themselves in such a convenient, cybernetic landscape.

Torix peered towards Kessiah, who rested just outside of this simulation.

Torix Worm, of Darkhill | Level 1,236 | Unknown - I find myself pondering if this device truly does save any time at all. Regardless, I peer into my obelisk’s abilities as a necessary evil.

I glanced around as his messages rang out in the background. Swiping my hand through a screen, the display wobbled before stabilizing. The images and lists rippled like waves in a pond. Getting my feet wet, I sent another message.

Daniel Hillside, The Harbinger of Cataclysm | Level 105 | Unknown - Couldn’t you just manage the addictive nature of an obelisk and use it all the time? You’d be more productive that way.

Torix pulled up an updated map of earth, most of it blank.

Torix Worm, of Darkhill | Level 1,236 | Unknown - I wonder if such an idea is even possible in practice. I’ve yet to see someone use an obelisk frequently and not be absorbed by it. An even greater point is how an obelisk strips one of their creativity. Is it not a wonder how this device, designed and created to open the world up to its user, actually narrows their view of it? It’s an ironic manifestation, I should say.

I peered at the icy swirls below us. Blizzards sheared a desolate landscape at the mountain’s foundation. The sky peered down from all angles as several suns gently beamed. Getting lost here in a world like this appealed to me, the endless peace a welcome change from the real world. I blinked at that, surprised by the draw of the simulation.

Daniel Hillside, The Harbinger of Cataclysm | Level 105 | Unknown - I remember humanity had an internet before Schema arrived. It had the same kind of effect as an obelisk, and a lot of the time, people just found others who thought whatever they thought. This created spots where everyone agreed, like an echo chamber. Eventually, they became places where everyone shouted the same ideas, each shout louder than the other.

Torix Worm, of Darkhill | Level 1,236 | Unknown - Quite a noteworthy observation. The way I’ve put it is that you learn exactly what everyone else knows if you use an obelisk. You learn what other people don't know when you read books.

Daniel Hillside, The Harbinger of Cataclysm | Level 105 | Unknown - Eh, you’re probably right...So, what's the map for?

Torix Worm, of Darkhill | Level 1,236 | Unknown - I left packets of identifying mana on Michael and Kelsey before leaving them with a deathknight for surveillance. That sorcery tracked their location and ensured I could kill them if need be.

My jaw went slack as I gawked at Torix. The lich raised his palms to me.

Torix Worm, of Darkhill | Level 1,236 | Unknown - Daniel, I don’t believe you fully understand what will happen to those that are captured by Yawm. Killing Michael and Kelsey isn’t a threat, as I could’ve done so at any time. I am using their deaths as a tool for mercy should the need arise.

I stared down, unnerved by the nightmare Torix presented. The lich wore the possibility of death or worse like a cloak. He focused his efforts on stopping the horrific outcomes instead of worrying about them. Keeping that industrious nature, Torix fiddled with screens and messages alike. Being far less experienced, I cringed at what might happen to my old friends or even the townsfolk.

Even worse, a bit of guilt sank in my chest like someone nailed it in with a hammer. Irrational or not, I held myself responsible for what might happen to my old friends and Springfield. It wasn’t a conscious decision but an unconscious force. I willed the guilt down, keeping myself strengthened. Despite my efforts, a fragment of remorse lingered in the back of my mind like a bloated corpse staring me in the eyes.

And I couldn’t get it to stop staring.

Torix glanced at the screens before tapping on the surface of an image. It bent ever so slightly at his touch as he tapped two red circles near the center of Springfield. Torix sighed, which sounded like a distant, deep echo.

Torix Worm, of Darkhill | Level 1,236 | Unknown - Michael and Kelsey were captured by the Force of Iron. I've dealt with them on numerous occasions. Handling them should be relatively simple. On the other hand, if Yawm has found them and made them spill their guts, then it's best I detonate the mana signatures now.

Daniel Hillside, The Harbinger of Cataclysm | Level 105 | Unknown - Woah now, let's think for a minute. Why would the Force of Iron even question or interrogate them? They probably just want to help them or learn something, maybe about us. Besides, detonating the mana packets may kill some of the troops there. We don’t want to burn that bridge, do we?

Torix Worm, of Darkhill | Level 1,236 | Unknown - The Force of Iron is hardly relevant to our battle with Yawm.

Daniel Hillside, The Harbinger of Cataclysm | Level 105 | Unknown - Althea could use some technology for her experimentation and cannons. I could use the Force of Iron to exchange runes for money. Kessiah might use them to get out of here. If we can save some of their members, then we end up tying up two loose ends without leaving a mess for later.

I think it’s worth pursuing.

The sphere retracted, the mountain’s peak disintegrating into the bottom of our quarry. Torix turned to me, "That's a risk I'd rather not take."

I frowned, "What if you didn't have to risk yourself? I can do it."

Torix narrowed his flaming eyes, "Why would you save them? They blamed you for their faults, spitting in the face of all your efforts. Their capture was non-violent as well...Though it was against their wills according to my death knight’s testimony. As if either of those people would actually fight for their agency.”

Torix threw a hand out, ”In fact, I believe this may be the best outcome for all parties. I tire of hovering over those overgrown children.”

A part of me wanted to defend them, but a larger piece dwelled on Torix’s accusations. Why would I want to save Michael and Kelsey? I tried helping them, but it wasn’t enough. Their expectations soared so high that nothing I did could ever have been enough. Despite that, I lingered on what happened. Something about the event rubbed me the wrong way, and after thinking about it, I understood why.

Kelsey and Michael weren’t real friends anymore, but they helped me out of a couple tight spots. In my mind, I paid them back in full long ago. For instance, one time I beat the hell out of two bullies that messed with Michael. I got a black eye, but I unloaded some steam. Michael wasn't bothered by those two again. I did the same for Kelsey when a college student stalked her for a while. I confronted the guy, and that’s all it took for him to stop.

This situation played out differently. By challenging the Force of Iron, I stuck my neck out for two friends who’d never do the same for me. They wouldn’t even let me in their house, let alone pry me from the clutches of an organized guild. Even if they wanted to help me, they weren’t able to. Kelsey hadn’t leveled a bit since the system started. Only Michael had a chance, and in reality, he’d be walking right to his death.

Something neither of them would ever do for me.

Snapping me out of my contemplation, Torix put a hand on my shoulder, "Perhaps I was overly harsh. It is your life, not mine, and upon second thought, perhaps saving them is the right decision.” Torix raised a hand, “After all, regrets will never leave you, and you may never have another opportunity to help them like this again.”

Torix lowered his hand, “Should you choose not to assist them, this may haunt you forever. My son's death is proof enough of that, as I will carry it for eternity. I wouldn’t wish for you to do the same with Michael and Kesley’s deaths."

I raised my hands, "Yeah...I’m thinking this will be my last payback, you know? I’ll leave them in my debt and call it quits at that point. I think that will give me some closure, and I’ll be able to let this go.” I turned to Kessiah and Althea, “Do either of you think you can help me out with that?”

Kessiah raised a palm, “I can wish you good luck, maybe give you some information. I can’t help you out directly though.”

I frowned, “Wow. Unexpected,

“Hey, I’m sorry about earlier, but this has nothing to do with that. I don’t want anyone knowing I’m on this planet. It could attract some bounty hunters. None of us want that.”

Althea bounced on her toes, “I’ll do it...If you need the help.”

Torix took a deep breath, which he didn’t need. He pushed up his glasses, which also didn’t exist, “Ah, my indecision is mounting once more. This is putting us under undue risk. That being said, what is reasonable and what is right are two very different things...Ah, what to do...I’m done fretting. I’ll allow you both to do this, should you both allow a shade to watch over you."

I put my hands on my hips, "You're just full of sage sayings today, aren’t you? And, uh....Thanks for helping us out. It means a lot."

Torix waved off my thanks, “The story you told me earlier has me sentimental and nostalgic. That’s all this is. Now, I will give you a few days to capture Michael and Kelsey before I detonate the mana signatures lodged in their skulls."

I gave him an apprehensive smile, "Huh...Well then...We should hurry."

Torix turned back to the marble tablets, ”Then I shall return to my duties...Ah yes, back to this. I wish this ritual was over and done with. It shall be the death of me." Torix laughed in an unhinged manner, “Hah...If I weren’t already undead. It will undo my undeath, causing the death of my undying. Hah. Hah.”

Rolling my eyes at the absurd joke, I jogged over to Althea. She shrugged, "Any ideas what the plan is? I’m really hoping it doesn’t involve storming their base.”

I shook my head, "I don’t want to ruin our relationship with these guys. That’s one of the reasons we’re doing this in the first place. I’m thinking we get to the facility, scope out their defenses, and use that new info to make a plan of approach. Does that sound good?"

She let out a sigh of relief, "Heh, ok. That’s a way better plan than I thought we’d come up with."

I gave her a thumbs up, "Alright, cool." I turned to Torix, "Yo, can you send us their location so that we can see it on our minimaps?"

Torix snapped his fingers, and a message appeared with an attachment. I downloaded it, and a little map popped up on my left side. The two dimensional, overhead graph reminded me of an old rpg. Everything blacked out besides for long, winding trails of color crisscrossing the darkness. One led to BloodHollow, another to Springfield. Dozens of other lines exposed more routes, likely inspected from Torix’s scouts.

All along the map, red X's signified dungeons. The density of the red marks meant many dungeons lingered across the countryside. Near the industrial sector of Springfield, far fewer crimson dots lined the surrounding area. The Force of Iron helped get those rifts handled, meaning the eldritch spilled out less there. In the center of that clearing, Two blue dots sprung up, one with the name Kelsey and the other with Michael. I gave our necromancer a thumbs up before walking up to Kessiah.

I turned to her, “Is there anything we should know about the Force of Iron before heading out?"

Kessiah gave me a stare of disdain before eyeing my runes. She crossed her arms, “So...You still want to talk, huh?”

I raised my brow, “Yeah. I just don’t want you to talk down to me, my home, and my life all the time. I know, I know, it’s a big ask.”

Kessiah tapped her forearm, thinking for a bit. She took a breath, “What do you need to know?”

I shrugged, “Anything, really.”

Kessiah peered away, "They use tech for the most part. Most of them aren't all that skilled. You probably know, but they bring in basic technology from Schema’s era. All of it’s used, hand-me-down stuff, but that’s a lot better than what you guys have here...Currently. That’s not to say you guys won’t ever be on that level, just, right now-"

I waved her elaboration away, "I get it. What kind of levels will they have?"

Kessiah tapped her side, "It’s based entirely on the local population. They send in kiosks with hauls of supplies. As you fulfill basic quests, they open more of the supplies. You can expect people to be about ten levels over the average because of those quests and the equipment they own. Considering most humans are around the low teens to mid twenties, you can expect levels in the mid thirties for everybody there.”

I nodded, "Thanks for the breakdown. I do appreciate it."

Kessiah eyed me up and down. She sighed before peering off. She crossed her arms, "Hey, sorry about getting in your business earlier. I shouldn’t have. That was my bad.”

I raised my hand, “It’s fine.”

Kessiah pulled out her obelisk, flashing me a smile, “Good...Try not to die out there, little man. No one else here can fight like you can...Besides me of course."

I turned and walked off, "I’ll stay alive only if you and Torix promise not to kill each other."

Kessiah opened her obelisk, "Hah. No promises."

Walking off, Althea and I reached a cubbyhole that she stationed her cannon schematics and other stuff in. Lots of trinkets and machinery slouched onto a table of sliced stone. Althea cut it out, the shining edge sheening with the natural beauty of polished stone. I rubbed my gauntleted hand over it, “Man, this is so well done. It looks like you cleaned it.”

Althea scratched her cheek, “So, uhm, it just ends up like that after I cut it.” She reached out a finger, a thin claw extending out. She cut out some of the quarry’s marble and tossed it over towards me. Wherever she sliced, a shiny finish exposed itself. I flipped it in my hand,

“You could make this a business.”

Althea rolled her eyes as she packed, “Sure.”

I slotted the marble back where she cut it out, “I’m serious here. There’s potential for big money in this post-apocalyptic landscape. Trust me. You’ll be a millionaire.”

We debated the merits of a rock polishing business while jogging towards the edge of the quarry. Once we surrounded ourselves in the trees, we raced full sprint towards the facility. Based on where Michael and Kelsey were, the Force of Iron established a base in an old, abandoned factory. The refinery situated itself in the middle of many other industrial buildings.

People set up shop here for the coal and iron loaded in nearby mountains. Springfield’s inhabitants harvested what they could before globalization decimated those industries. I wasn’t commenting on whether that was good or not, but I had familiarized myself with the area a long time ago. My dad worked there, and he got fired at some point. By the time they let him go, I made a few memories in those empty buildings.

Heading in that direction, Althea and I passed Pier’s creek, trees arching over our heads as they struggled to get sunlight. Birds flew across the ravine now and again, and collections of fish swam deeper into the water as we passed. The rocky sand softened my stomping heels, keeping us quiet. Still, I left deep footprints behind me, but a shadowy presence passed over my markings. After doing so, it smoothed the evidence out.

Torix’s shade performed its duties well, wherever it was.

After taking a few turns, we reached another creek, this one nameless. Everyone abandoned the area after someone found a few miners dumping chemicals in the water. No one wanted a nice batch of heavy metals in their drinking water, and even after thirty years, no one remained here. Well, besides for the monsters that moved in.

Strange nautiloids lapped at the water, refining metals with their mouthy bits. They cleared the water of all the waste, though they still fed on nearby, vulnerable wildlife. Althea and I let them live, the both of us moving towards our goal. Althea, our lavender haired sniper, glanced around in wonder at everything as we passed by. I could imagine why Althea marveled. This might’ve been her first time seeing all of this.

An unconscious smile lingered on her lips, and I liked the look on her. I murmured,

"It's nice, isn't it?"

"Yeah. It’s very peaceful here. The sounds here are...Ambient. It puts me in a really clear state of mind."

I stared forward, “Me too.”

After another fifteen minutes of running, we found abandoned factories on the horizon. Old smoke stacks loomed over the buildings, beacons of a bygone era. Those old towers no longer belched clouds of dark smoke, birds resting where the toxic smog once plumed out. Under those hollow pillars, empty warehouses covered block after block. Railroad tracks traced the ground throughout the empty place, no longer used but still scarring the ground.

Multicolored cargo crates rested on those emptied tracks. All the trains stationed on them, some having crashed and piled up. Since Schema arrived, this place of industry deadened into something lifeless but peaceful. We ran down those railways, birds resting on them. They flew off over the horizon as we passed by, each of us hidden by the trains lining our sides.

Within a few minutes, a familiar yet alien sound radiated across the skyline - the humming of a car’s engine. Peering under several carts, Althea and I found moving vehicles. Even though they should’ve been commonplace and expected, they surged excitement in my chest. Humanity rallied here enough to actually use cars. A small step to be sure, but a step nonetheless.

Althea and I slid under a train, getting beside several driving cars. Along the sides of these automobiles, a circular emblem beamed back at us. It was gear with a pyramid and eye on it. As I gazed at it, it too, gazed back at me. It reminded me that we infiltrated this place, and we weren’t welcome here. From then on, Althea and I crept under train tracks, each of us calm and composed.

We found many more signs of human civilization there. Many old war machines scattered about, likely taken from nearby museums and repurposed. Parts from those machines scattered around with mechanics working on them. They wore combat fatigues imprinted with the gear and pyramid symbol. Around them, several soldiers stomped by.

Their combatant status was obvious; they donned blue gray armor, rifles strapped along their backs. The barrels and stocks glowed blue, a powerful symbol of Schema’s dominance. If you bought in, you’d get great power, but their abilities didn’t stop there. The soldiers carried shining, emerald green munitions on their chests.

I wondered what hid inside the capsules. Answering my question, one of the troops dropped a bullet onto the ground. It shattered, and the ooze painted the ground in green. It sizzled the earth, writhing deep into the ground. Within those glassy bullets, some kind of living acid squirmed around.

Althea mouthed, “Wow...I’d love to have that.”

I shivered, remembering Althea billowing acid over me. I murmured back, “I’m not the biggest fan of that stuff, actually.”

Getting closer to the heart of the camp, some soldiers carried glowing, red liquid in their bullets. None of those members dropped their ammo, unfortunately. Gawking at everything, it all honed in on a sharp, angular aesthetic. Schema created all of this equipment with precision. Everyone wore their helmets all the time too. This faceless ensemble lacked eyes on those helms, showing no weakness just like the Sentinels.

Cameras viewed the outer world for them, keeping them secure inside their steel plates. I grinned at the prospect of getting some of that good stuff, but I feared fighting several of the people at once. Althea shared in my fear, and our sneaking slowed down to a crawl. We found plenty to see, so despite our pace, time flew by. Several factories reopened here, and soldiers carried goods in and out of the buildings on hovering platforms.

My eyes widened at the sight, and I murmured to Althea, “How do they do that?”

Althea gawked at the buildings with me, “Uhm...Magic?”

I narrowed my eyes at her, “Well...Er, duh.”

She flicked my shoulder, “You’re the one asking dumb questions.”

“Touché.”

We got close enough to uncover details about the industrialized equipment. Hooks and bars traced the armors, places for carrying the pieces around with ease. The practical, deadly weapons on their backs sheened with glossy finishes. A few of them even carried sword handles at their sides. In a sparring arena, two armored individuals pulled those swords out.

Laser blades arose from the handles, and they clashed with burning ooze dripping down their weapons. I ogled at the awesome display before Althea and I nestled between a few of the cargo crates. Squeezed together, I sent her a message.

Daniel Hillside, The Harbinger of Cataclysm | Level 105 | Unknown - Any ideas for getting in and out of there?

Althea Tolstoy | Level 164 | Unknown - Huh...Not really.

I brainstormed for a minute before I sent her a message,

Daniel Hillside, The Harbinger of Cataclysm | Level 105 | Unknown - Wait a minute...I got the perfect plan.

I shifted my armor before turning my gauntlets into shovel claws. I turned and messaged.

Daniel Hillside, The Harbinger of Cataclysm | Level 105 | Unknown - How about we dig our way in? Eh? EH?