Hello everyone, I'm pleased to put down beta chapters of my next co write Arcane Coder. It won't be posted on this account, but I will post two chapters here for you all to read, then more regularly. Please tell me how you liked it.
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Premise:
Vince was an overworked college student in the bustling, smelly city of New York, doing multiple part time jobs to sustain his dwindling college life and trying to get a job as a software engineer before AI got too advanced.
Unfortunately for him, he died and found himself in the body of a 3rd year apprentice in the Volkun, Academy of Magics. The world he found himself in was full of monsters, demons, other races, and most importantly… magic.
But wait? Why are spells looking like... codes?
***
Chapter 1
Vince Valentine didn’t want to die, though he’d entertained the thought more times than he’d like to admit. But fate… it was a funny thing.
One beautiful Sunday, he left his cramped studio apartment for some fresh air, coffee and, fingers crossed, a productive coding session. Today, he expected to do more than just smile at his favorite barista, Lisa. Maybe make small talk, ask how her day was.
He saw her through the window and waved. Usually, she would wave back. But today, she was almost shouting, pointing behind him.
He barely heard the screech, something slammed into him—something crunched. It was hot and cold at the same time. His clothes were soaked. He caught a glimpse of crimson spreading beneath him, and the sickening realization that somewhere below his hip, he was bleeding out fast.
There was no pain. No, not at all. Almost as if he hadn’t just been hit by a car going a hundred miles per hour.
His vision flashed white. He wanted to cry in pain, curse loudly in the afterlife if there is even such a thing. But there was no pain.
Suddenly, everything around him was too peaceful and quiet.
The world had shifted. He was in a vast dark space, and when he looked down, he had become a drifting blue flame.
He could think, but he couldn’t talk. The only control he had was the direction he floated. Even his emotions were hampered; he definitely would’ve been panicking otherwise.
All around him were countless other smaller flames.
In the prevailing darkness, the millions of flames gathered around like a school of fish—they aimlessly floated together with seemingly no goal in mind.
Where am I? Is this really… the afterlife?
He tried to bump into one, but there was an invisible barrier that divided them, so he could only watch curiously and hover alongside them.
Unlike him, the other flames simply mindlessly followed one another, sometimes stopping, sometimes turning around and changing direction.
Is this all there is?
Vince tried to drift away from the cluster of flames and into the darkness. It just stretched forever, swallowing every step until he gave up and returned.
The others still burned faintly, like an ocean of flickering points.
Out of boredom, he tried nudging a few aside, breaking the line, but his touch barely stirred them. They were too small and too weak and that got him thinking; thinking of everything that has happened so far.
He was dead. That much was certain. His body was gone, but something remained. Maybe it was his soul. Were these millions of flames the same? But none moved like him. None even seemed aware.
He wondered what it would be like to forget and just… float like them. But memory clung stubbornly, replaying every unimpressive second of the life that he’d left behind.
He had plans. A top college, six-figure salary before thirty, some genius piece of code that’d make him untouchable in Silicon Valley—followed by a sleek high-rise apartment with a girl who was both brilliant and beautiful.
Instead, he got the short end of the stick.
Endless coding assignments. A degree worth less than the paper it was printed on. Employers asking for five years’ experience to pour coffee, let alone code. Shifts at the campus cafe that stained his hands with burnt espresso grounds. Parents too busy to notice when he stopped coming home. Half-hearted rejections from women who didn’t bother to say it straight.
Here, in the void, it looped endlessly—a personalized highlight reel of failure.
I could’ve done better.
But now, for all he knew, he’d end up burning into nothing.
And strangely, he wasn’t scared. He guessed it was something that came with dying and being a soul. Or maybe it was because there was a small light inside him that told him—wherever he was going, he would be safe.
Vince didn't particularly like relying on some otherworldly instinct. Yet, he had no other option.
Why couldn’t the afterlife be… more?
A voice to explain things would’ve been nice. Someone to hand out pamphlets, maybe.
Right. That’s what he needed. A guide. He had so many questions, and no one to ask. So Vince just floated with the rest of the flames. And floated. And floated.
The only breaks they got were when a pair of serpentine, red eyes appeared in the dark, watching them. When Vince first caught a glimpse of it, he almost thought he had started to see things. Until they appeared again. They lingered, then vanished without a sound.
He tried everything—he tried reaching other flames, chasing those eyes… searching for anything, but none of it worked. The more he tried, the more frustrated he got and he wished he had a body, to pull his hair, just to feel something.
So he practiced moving instead. Slow glides turned into darting sprints. Sprints into dizzying loops. Before long, he could rip through the cluster of flames, scattering them and herding them back like some cosmic shepherd.
That became his routine, Drift. Race. Scatter. Regret. Repeat. For years. Decades.
So when finally, the void shuddered, it was finally a relief that something was about to happen.
A crack tore through the dark void and started dragging in souls.
The souls on the edges were pulled in first, their light vanished into the abyss. Others clung to their places, shivering against the pull.
Panic surged through Vince. He flung himself backward, every flicker of thought bent toward one goal—don’t get swallowed. But the pull was there, enticing him to come.
The certainty in the voice chilled him. But he knew for a fact that whatever awaited in that darkness wasn’t for him.
Not yet.
He tore himself free and streaked away—only for the void to split again. And again.
Tears cracked all around, hungry mouths drinking in the souls. Instinct shredded itself in his mind, part of him screamed to escape, another ached to dive in.
He kept resisting.
The void became a storm, vortexes dragging everything toward them. Pressure closed in until he was sure—any moment now—his soul would fracture into nothing.
Some tears glowed with a brilliance so hypnotic it almost pulled Vince in. Others breathed heat so searing it blistered his thoughts, tempting him to give up just to make it stop.
But he couldn’t. Not yet. Something deep—maybe instinct, maybe memory, or fate—told him that none of these were his. He didn’t know why. He didn’t question it.
He kept moving, slipping past one tear after another. The sea of flames thinned until only a few hundred souls drifted beside him.
Part of him longed to give in, to let one of the rifts swallow him just to escape the endless black. The rest told him to endure, wait for the right one.
And then… it came.
With barely three dozen souls left, a tear opened ahead. It wasn’t blinding or searing like the others, rather, warm and inviting. Its pull caressed him and not clawed at him. And for the first time in an eternity, he felt something besides the dead weight of the void.
This was it.
The tether in his being urged him forward, and this time he didn’t fight it. He drifted closer, waiting for the rift to claim him—
Just then, the void behind him curdled.
Red eyes flared open again. So massive and ancient that they froze him right there. Their gaze pierced through him, rifling through every thought, every shame, and every hidden truth.
Something gathered in their depths—a twinkling, silvery-red liquid.
And then the darkness peeled back. Scales surfaced, maroon and glistening, each one the size of a building. The void shrank around its shape until there was nothing left but it.
A single thought slammed into Vince’s mind.
A dragon.
A clawed hand erupted from the dark, skewering the nearest souls. The beast’s mouth split into a smirk lined with a hundred dagger-teeth, each slick with red. Its tongue uncoiled, pink and glistening, tracing along its fangs before lashing out—snaring clusters of souls and dragging them into its maw.
It ate slowly.
The shriek that followed tore the void in half.
Vince bolted, locking on to the warm tear. Behind him, more swipes of its claws punched through the dark, shredding the void like paper. Panic gnawed at his core. Souls that were pierced screamed for the first time—high, hollow cries that cut through him like splinters.
And still, the dragon fed.
Three dozen turned to only three in a matter of seconds, but they were all too slow. All but Vince.
The dragon let out another shriek that demanded Vince surrender to his fate. The sound’s force sent Vince flying back, further and further from the tear.
Vince, utterly terrified, couldn’t move. But an internal voice demanded him to. He didn’t spend centuries in the void to become a dragon’s meal. He wanted to get away and have another chance at life.
And that tear still called for him, tugging at him to enter.
Finally, Vince moved, faster than he ever had before.
A claw slashed straight toward him, but Vince swerved at the last minute, booking it for the tear. Another swipe came from the left. Vince avoided it, closing the distance between him and the space considerably.
The dragon, thrown off by the newly evasive prey, let out a vicious cry and roared in fury.
It planted itself between Vince and the rip in space.
As both of its claws moved at the same time to grasp at him, he felt a massive force pinning him down, but he resisted with every fiber of his will. I don’t want to die. Not again, his thoughts were solid. He knew he deserved a chance at life, one where he wouldn’t be so pathetic and powerless.
As his thoughts came to the surface, he twisted in a desperate maneuver. Sharp claws whipped past him, missing him by inches.
He felt a sinking feeling, but there was no time for introspection as he jumped up.
Using all the training he had done in his time in the void, he avoided the claws that came for him in a zigzag manner, confusing the dragon who let out a scream that seemed to tear through the void itself.
For the briefest moment, its eyes met with Vince's and something clicked in his mind. Before another claw could come for him, he set off, heading straight towards the dragon's face.
Countless voices told him to run away, assimilate into the void to escape the dragon's fury, but he ignored them. In a matter of seconds, he stood before the dragon's face, its eyes glistening with the same silvery liquid he had seen before.
Just its gaze sent shivers down his entire being, but he didn't stay idle. He moved as if he was going to charge straight at its massive eye and like he expected, a claw slashed at him like he was a meager fly.
He felt something tearing through his being for a second before he ducked down, the claw passing inches above his head and directly into the dragon's eye.
It recoiled, the sharp claw making blood drip out.
A painful screech escaped its mouth as its massive body twisted, falling into the void itself. Everything around him shook and the darkness warped as the dragon's body twisted, but Vince didn't care about any of it.
He rushed straight into the space behind the dragon, hoping to get away before the creature could get its bearings back. As he flew past the dragon's body, he noticed something in the air.
The silvery red liquid he saw before shimmered out of the dragon's eye and moved. Something in him attracted towards it and without thinking, he grabbed the silvery red liquid.
It enveloped his flames, surprisingly not extinguishing them like he had initially assumed. Instead, it mixed with him, trudging to the center of his soul, all the while he was moving.
He wished he could scream at his own being stirring, especially when he knew fully well that if he was caught by the dragon lunging at him, he would not be able to get away.
Before it could touch him, he dove into the rift and let the space swallow him whole.
The dragon got up and rushed after him, using its entire body to try and break in, its claws grabbing at him, but the riftspace was like a vortex of chaos, disintegrating its body as it tried to enter.
Vince didn't care and kept floating into the chaotic vortex. He felt like he was heading towards the bottom of an ocean, getting closer to it with each passing moment.
Strangely, his surroundings didn't affect him. It didn't feel bad. He felt protected and the red liquid was nowhere to be found.
The dragon's gaze was no longer piercing into him, and he pondered what was going to come at the end of the portal.
Was it heaven? Or an entirely new world? Would he be reborn as a baby with none of his memories? All these possibilities floated through his mind until he was violently jerked.
What's going—
He shot out of the portal like a stone from a sling, spinning so fast the world blurred into streaks of color. The moment he hit something solid, a shock of cold slammed into him. It clung to his skin—if he even had skin anymore—before swallowing him whole.
He staggered upright, blinking at the sight before him.
It was a mountain peak with endless white in every direction. So… cold. He looked up, squinting at the sky.
Shapes wheeled through the clouds, giant birds with two pairs of wings, skulls for heads, and eyes like burning coals. Lower down, strange beasts dotted the slopes. There were bulls with twin heads and shaggy white coats, hares striding on two feet like drunk old men and foxes whose tails fanned into jeweled feathers, swaying in the wind.
He stared, stunned, until something yanked him sideways.
The world shattered into motion—grassy plains, oceans that glittered like spilled glass, forests older than time, villages straight from prehistory, sprawling cities of spires and steel—all whipping past before slamming to a stop.
A tower rose beneath him, coiling into the clouds. At its crown, a statue of a bearded man stood sentinel, his beard looked like a great avalanche that could have shamed Gandalf himself. Gargoyles clung to the stone, some the size of housecats, others the size of bears, their eyes following him as he descended.
Something called to him.
He drifted through the walls—past a cavernous hall, past rows of rooms that looked almost like classrooms—until the pull dragged him into a small chamber.
The smell hit first.
Blood.
Then he saw a man sprawled on the floor before the bed. He was half inside what looked like a ritual circle etched with three triangles. The wood beneath him drank the spreading pool—dark, glossy and disturbing.
Was he attempting to perform some kind of satanic ritual? Was his first thought.
Silky black hair framed his pale face, the strands plastered with still-wet blood. His mouth gaped wide, frozen mid-scream.
Vince’s stomach twisted.
A connection flared and he couldn’t look away. He wanted to; he wanted to not stare at the absolutely revolting sight in front of him, but he couldn’t. There was something that made him—
The force struck, shoving him forward into the man’s chest. Instead of passing through this time, he’d stayed.
The panic was immediate. His thoughts scattered, his being changed. And then—
A breath. He took a deep breath.
His eyes snapped open.
“What?” The voice that left him wasn’t his. “I’m alive.” Vince curled in on himself, knees to his chest, whispering the same words over and over like a mantra until something slimy touched his fingers.
He glanced down.
Blood.
It was on his hands, warm and fresh. His gaze trailed over the body he now inhabited—past the unfamiliar skin, the strange clothes—until it stopped. A gaping wound tore through his side, as if something had taken a bite out of him. His stomach churned, but there was no pain. Not even a sting.
He reached for it, fingers trembling violently, then froze.
The flesh shifted beneath his touch. Threads of muscle slithered together. Skin crawled over the gap, knitting itself closed. In seconds, the hole was gone, replaced by a puckered scar and a bead of blood rolling down to darken his pants.
“…That’s new,” he murmured in the alien tongue that was still familiar. “Then again… not the weirdest thing I’ve—”
A movement caught his attention.
What is that?
Something shifted in the shadows ahead.
He straightened, eyes straining against the dark. Another flicker, quicker this time. A sound followed, like claws dragging over wood.
The hair on his neck rose. His gaze slid back to the place where the wound had been.
If it had only just healed… then whatever had made it was still here.
The thought rooted in his chest. From the darkness, something began to crawl into the light.
***
Chapter 2
Vince’s lungs burned as he held his breath, every beat of his heart pounding against his skull until it felt like it might split open.
The thing looming before him wasn’t meant to exist. It stood on crooked limbs, breath rasping and bubbling like something drowning on dry land. He couldn’t even tell what it was. Half dog, half shark—it looked like a nightmare came alive.
He didn’t want to look twice at the hanging flesh or the spikes that jutted from its hunched spine. Three horns spiraled from its skull, knotted into a crown fit for a fucking demon. The claws—one swipe could erase him out.
His life flashed in front of his eyes again when it moved with a predator’s patience, circling, slipping in and out of the shadows as if the darkness itself was playing with him. The thing had small, red eyes that burnt like coals but didn’t stray away from him, not even a blink.
What the fuck is that thing?
The thought screamed inside his head, but his lips refused to part. Silence was all he had left, though he knew it wouldn’t matter. The beast had already marked him.
His gaze flickered wildly across the room, desperate for something—anything to use before it pounced.
The bed? Useless. The bookshelf? Too heavy. He wasn’t even sure if his body would obey if he tried.
He didn’t want to die like a loser.
His eyes dragged lower, scanning frantically, until they caught the dull shine of metal leaning against the shelf—a shield, the edge was dented, but he could use it.
The ugly thing opened its maw and the smell almost made him gag. Saliva dangled from its nicked teeth that jutted at every angle. Its screech tore through the air, high and wild, and for a sickening moment, Vince could swear, it was laughing.
His knees nearly buckled. The weight of despair crashed over him, swallowing every shred of reason. He could taste the iron tang of fear at the back of his throat.
Then the beast lunged.
Shadows exploded into motion as claws sliced for him. Vince threw himself sideways, rolling across the floor, the rush of air from its strike brushing his skin. He scrambled upright, fingers snatching the shield’s edge and yanking it free.
The monster was already upon him, its arm arcing down, claws singing through the air. Vince twisted, snapping the shield up just as the blow connected.
The impact was like thunder in his bones, and the beast screeched. The force sent him stumbling back. A white-hot pain tore through his arm, but he gritted his teeth and held.
The shield shuddered, the creature’s claws raking across its surface like nails down a coffin lid.
The shield held, barely. Vince’s arms shook under the crushing force pressing down on him, the metal biting into his palms as he tried to cover every inch of himself behind its battered surface.
It shrieked again and rammed forward.
The impact jolted Vince off his feet, slamming him against the wall so hard his teeth clacked. Claws hooked around the shield’s rim and wrenched it free with a vicious twist. Pain ripped through his shoulder as the tendons screamed, and before he could even catch his breath, the creature buried its jaws into the metal with a crunch that made his stomach turn.
The beast lunged again and dove sideways.
It crashed into the wall with a bone-shattering thud, a strangled whimper tearing out of it as its claw wedged deep into the stone. It thrashed, yanking itself free, then wheeled around with a snarl that seemed to strip the air from the room.
The eyes glowed hotter now, pupils narrowing, fury sharpening like knives. Vince instinctively stepped back, bile burning at his throat. Weak, he was so damn weak. The thought gnawed at him. And yet… He was the one who had faced the void dragon and lived. That beast’s charge had nearly torn the world apart. Compared to that, this thing was just a mangy pup.
A pup that could tear his throat out before it even swallowed.
The claw came fast. Vince snapped the shield up, but not fast enough. Metal caught most of the blow, yet one talon carved into his wrist.
“Fuck!” He hissed as the pain exploded. White flashed in his eyes, and before he could bite the pain back, blood splattered on the floor and his grip faltered. The shield sagged as the beast kept at his unrhythmic pounding.
Claws streaked for his face. Vince dropped low, feeling the sickening brush of air over his cheek as death nearly claimed his eyes. He surged upward, ramming the shield with everything he had left into the creature’s snarling head. A crack gave way when bone met metal, saliva spraying across his arm.
Vince didn’t wait to see if he had done shy damage. He turned and ran.
Logic screamed louder than fear: he couldn’t win this. Not in this state; and especially not when he’d never fought before.
His gaze locked on a door across the chamber. He slammed into it, wrenching at the knob. For a heartbeat it refused to budge. He felt his pulse climbing into panic.
A faint click and a shaky breath later, the door swung open.
Vince threw himself through, slamming it shut behind him without looking back. He didn’t care if it latched. He just ran, boots hammering against the corridor stone, breath tearing at his throat as shadows and fear chased him into the dark.
Doors blurred past him, lamps flickering against the corridor walls, but Vince spared them nothing more than a flick of his eyes. Every ounce of strength was in his legs, every ragged breath dragged like fire through his throat.
Behind him, the beast’s screech cut through the air—closer now, far too fucking close. The claws clattered and tore into the wood like hammers on bone and the rhythm pounding kept getting louder and louder—
He threw himself around corners, sharp turns that scraped his boots against the floor.
Please don’t let this path be a dead end. Please don’t let it smell me. His thoughts rattled like dice, hope clinging to the idea that someone—anyone—in this place might have heard the beast.
Maybe the echoes of its shriek would rouse someone awake. Surely, he wasn't the only one in such a large building. Surely—
There is no one. He was alone and his luck was worse than horrible.
Another turn and the hall dropped into a spiraling stairwell plunging downward. He leapt onto the steps, taking them two at a time, then three, his injured wrist screaming every time he swung his arm for balance.
The pain was unbearable. He chewed down onto his bottom lip, threatening to rip focus away.
Then came the tearing sound.
What the fu—
He risked a glance back. The beast was on the stairs, crawling down like a spider, claws gouging deep grooves into the wood as it bounded toward him. Its eyes locked on him, glowing wet and bright.
“Fuck! Why are you here?! WHY? Why!” The words tore out of him uselessly as he shoved himself faster—four steps at a time, stumbling, almost toppling headfirst. The beast didn’t stumble. It flowed down the stairs, the claws carving scars in the steps as if the wood itself tried to escape its weight.
He hit the bottom, lungs bursting. He barely caught the shadow falling over him before instinct shoved the shield between himself and possible death.
The blow landed like a landslide. His body launched off the last few steps, crashing into a grand hall below. He rolled across the polished floor, pain stabbing him up in at least a dozen places before he skidded to a halt.
His eyes darted wildly, coming across tables and chairs in the wide chamber before he found a shield—it was far, ten steps away, leaning against a table.
His arm twitched toward it, but the sound—a grunt—froze him.
The beast loomed at the base of the stairs—a massive frame blotting out the light above. It walked towards him slowly this time, like it was savoring the moment—the moment where he’d be devoured in one breath.
When its eyes met his, they burned like molten coals, gleaming with cruel satisfaction.
Vince’s eyes widened for a brief moment—it leapt.
He rolled, floorboards scraping his back, claws gouging the space he’d just occupied. He scrambled to rise, but the weight of a boulder crashed onto him as the creature slammed down, pinning him beneath its bulk. The air left his chest in a wheeze. He clawed at the floor, but it was useless—the beast pressed down harder.
Its mouth opened above him. Saliva dangled in long, ropy strands, dripping onto his chest with a sickening pat. Its breath was heat and rot, filling his lungs before it even bit down.
I’m done. I’m so dead.
That one thought burned through him as the jaws plunged. Vince’s throat seized, but his body moved in one last desperate act. His hand shot forward, trembling, bloodied, and shoved itself between his face and those descending teeth.
Agony ripped through him as the beast’s teeth sank deeper, nerves screaming fire. He couldn’t help but thrash, hand wedged between its fangs. It ignored and clamped down like iron.
Blood sprayed across his cheek, his own cry tearing free and echoing through the hall.
“Argh!” From his free hand, he shoved at the beast’s throat, only to scrape against the spikes jutting from its flesh. Each push shredded his knuckles, and every time he tried, more pain followed.
The pressure mounted, blurring his vision—black crept at the edges. So this was it. After the accident, void, and even after facing a dragon and clawing his way back into life, he was going to die crushed under the teeth of this wretched giant thing.
Numbness crept into his limbs.
He heard faint footsteps—maybe he was hallucinating in his final moments—maybe—
The sound confirmed when a nearby door slammed open.
The giant thing hovering him froze on spot, ears twitching. Its red eyes darted up and Vince saw the surprise, even fear flashing across its gaze.
The air shifted.
Something howled past him. It was sharp—and faster than thought. It slammed into the creature’s face with a wet crack, blasting it off him and hurling it against the stairs. The beast whimpered, more shocked than wounded.
Vince gasped for air, clutching his mangled wrist, the pain dragging him half-conscious. He blinked through the haze as another blast split the air. Extremely thin currents sliced across the beast’s body, carving deep lines into its hide. Flesh split open. Blood sprayed.
Wind…?
He could just barely make it out—streams of sharpened air tearing through the hall, cutting with invisible edges. His eyes widened when he saw the beast staggering upright.
Fury blazed from every corner of its body. It growled loudly and lurched toward him once more—
—and met a wall. A translucent barrier shimmered into being, crackling with unseen force. The creature smashed face-first against it.
Another ripple stirred the air. He could tell that it was the final strike. It was swift, agile and merciless—slashed through the hall from behind Vince. He flinched as it passed, the current prickling across his skin, then a wet, tearing shriek came.
He saw the beast’s neck split wide.
Its head hit the floor with a thud. Blood gushed in a spreading pool, the body collapsing beside it with a twitch. There were no more screeches, just silence.
Vince scrambled backward, dragging himself with his good arm. The sight—the severed head, the reek of blood—made bile claw up his throat. His mangled hand throbbed with every heartbeat, forcing a low whimper through clenched teeth.
He bit down hard on his lip, tasted iron. He refused to scream again.
Then a shadow fell over him.
Boots stepped into view. Vince forced his gaze up. A figure stood there, haloed in the bloodstained lamplight, looking down at him with eyes that didn’t waver.
Vince froze, breath caught in his throat.
A lanky man with alabaster skin that looked akin to a ghost, and the white he wore didn’t help him at all. Brown hair fell in loose waves to his shoulders, sticking slightly with sweat. A cloak of deep red hung from him, stitched through with strange, curling symbols that seemed to writhe when the lightshifted. Beneath, Vince caught the scuffed outlines of leather armor.
He extended a hand down. Vince hesitated, then took it, his injured wrist sparking white-hot pain at the grip.
When the man spoke, he sounded too calm and collected for someone standing over a severed monster’s head.
“What in the seven planes are you doing out here at midnight, Artur?” His eyes narrowed. “Did you summon that thing? Do you want to get yourself expelled?”
Vince’s heart stopped. Artur?
For a moment he forgot the blood on his skin, the throbbing wound in his hand. The name echoed in his mind like a curse. He wasn’t Vince to this man. He was the boy whose body he now occupied, the one who was supposed to be dead.
The beast’s corpse lay sprawled behind the stranger, a brutal reminder of what this man could do. Wind sharp enough to sever bone. A flick of his wrist and Vince could meet the same fate.
He had to be careful.
“T-thank you,” Vince stammered in the thinnest voice possible. “For saving my life.”
The man’s lips twitched. “At least the beast managed to beat some manners into you. Tell me, how did it escape the circle? Did you botch the ritual coding?” His gaze slid briefly to the carcass, then pinned Vince again.
His throat dried. A circle? A ritual code? He knew nothing of it. Panic flared, and with it, the instinct to lie.
“I… I don’t know,” he said, forcing the words out between clenched teeth.
The man’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean you don’t know?”
“I-I can’t remember.” Vince dropped his gaze, let his shoulders sag as though weighed by shame. “It’s like I lost everything. My memory, my head… it’s all a blur. I can’t… remember.”
He risked a glance upward.
The man’s long eyes had narrowed. Vince held his breath, blood dripping from his fingers to the floor, praying the lie was enough.
Seconds passed by, and he kept staring, his lips pressed into a thin line—Vince could see the ticking clock of patience. He exhaled through his nose. “Do you even know what you’re saying?”
Vince swallowed, unsure if he should answer.
“Open your status,” the former said flatly.
“... Status?”
“Yes, status.” His eyes narrowed. “Don’t tell me you don’t know what that is.”
Status? What does he mean? His palms dampened, his wounded hand trembling against his chest. A faint shiver suddenly ran down his spine, like electricity before it hit.
A sharp jolt snapped through the back of his skull, as if unseen fingers flicked open a hidden latch inside his head. He gasped, clutching at nothing, and before he could blink, the darkness of the hall started… Moving?
Words burned into existence in front of him.
Name: Artur Vale
Age: 19
Soul: Initiate (Level 3)
Aspect: None
Spell codes: Ether Bolt, Arcane Shell, Glyph Bind
Stats:
Body: 4
Mind: 7
Arcane: 8
***