NOTE:Patreon does not like formatting/different 'alignments' of paragraphs that help make this fiction what it is.
Because of that, I will always be providing a link the google doc for each chapter where you can see it properly formatted. Elsewise, feel free to read the chapter here, if that is your preference.
I am sorry for the limitations of this platform.
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1ju6L4o4fCA-Eg9fEzObZlAn__gAKsqfbihIdTkVouuE/edit?usp=sharing
Previous__________ToC__________Next
Alex… might have made a mistake.
His skull itched, but that had been expected.
No, the issue was that it felt like he had an army of insects crawling around under his skin, across his scalp and lower jaw, and they were biting… and the bites didn’t fade.
He glanced at the notification and only just suppressed a whimper.
Wounds:Deformed Skull x112,386 HP x1
Deformed Mandible x12,477 HP x1
Alex groaned—it had only been about two seconds—and he needed escape. He was glad that he was already wearing the tri-ring, and had already given it mana to form a manipulation exercise.
As such, he threw his focus into the odd puzzle that had been created before him.
Still, even with the pain and distracting sensations, he had a marked advantage from the last time he’d attempted this.
He had Mana Manipulation, not Basic Mana Manipulation.
It was quite like taking off oven mitts and letting him attempt to perform tasks with his own fingers.
Amazing.
There was a moment of such sheer bliss at his sudden shift in capacity that he almost forgot about his changing skull.
Then, of course, he felt a building pressure as his ocular cavities subtly shifted. This didn’t change his facial features—that was one thing that seemed to be meticulously maintained unless explicitly altered—instead shifting alignment and composition of various components.
The result was that the feeling of crawling, biting insects now surrounded his eyes.
He grimaced, barely holding in a scream of irritation.
Wounds:Deformed Skull x18,930 HP x1
Deformed Mandible x11,786 HP x1
It had been just over a minute. He was not quite a third done.
Nearly seventy per second. Come on, Alex. You can do this. Nearly seventy per second. This won’t even take five minutes.
…Five… Minutes…
He did let out a long, agonized grunting groan then.
Bev was there in an instant, wiping his forehead with a damp cloth, muttering something he already knew but with more apologetic language.
She couldn’t interfere. This was equivalent to healing a scar, only really possible due to his attribute, unless they wished to remove his skull entirely first. Or find someone with Holy magic…
He felt a rather large longing for Brianne to be there at that moment. She could have taken his pain, made this easier…
He clenched his teeth even as his jaw was remolded around the coiled, cramping muscles.
He threw his focus at the stupid mana training puzzle again, using his rage and pain to fuel his focus.
Every skitter, itch, or crackling crinkle drove him deeper into his focus.
Oh, broken lightbulbs, the noise won’t stop! He had successfully kept himself from acknowledging the sound until that moment, but he couldn’t any longer.
He could hear his bones breaking apart, slurping and sloshing around, and snicking back together.
He tried to comfort himself that he was healing more than his entire health pool’s worth of ‘damage’ in under five minutes.
Continuing his campaign to ignore what was going on, he tried manipulating his mana to flick, pop, twist, and spin through the magic locks and pathways. Then, in a moment of transcendent clarity—as a goodly part of the back of his head briefly sagged within his scalp against the medical bed—he realized that the puzzle was, effectively, a negative form for a communication in the language of power. He was simply filling it in.
It’s a single string password? Seriously? His skull reformed, pushing his head back up slightly and relieving the headache and momentary existential dread he hadn’t even realized were building.
He began chuckling. Now that he knew what he was looking at, his Spherical Sense saw the pattern in the negative space.
The next puzzle popped up and Speed Reading came into play, helping him instantly pick up the needed ‘word’.
That didn’t mean he was instantly able to provide that word, but he knew exactly what would be needed.
Unconsciously, he muttered under his breath. “Hep-seb-ulatnic.”
It was nonsense, but when did passwords ever make sense? He scrunched in concentration, trying to write out that phrase in a specific, delicate font… freehand… with a thick brush… with his arm at full extension.
Needless to say, he failed. The puzzles did get subsequently harder, after all, and he was suddenly attempting to complete them in an entirely new manner.
Even with the tri-ring effectively giving him vastly more minute control to aid in practice, he failed.
This… this is going to take a while to work out. Still, he felt like it was a better way, and he would keep at it.
He felt Bev draw closer, suddenly realizing that the reason he’d known she was close was largely due to his new sense.
“Did something go wrong? You shouldn’t have any sort of mental misalignment.”
Alex shook his head, even as the puzzle fell apart, a bit too complicated for his current skill level with this new method.
He froze, then began to chuckle, then laugh.
A notification caused his laughter to increase.
Attribute Level-Up:Basic Skeletal Structural RemodelingLevel 1 → Level 2
Five bones. He’d modified five bones of various sizes and leveled the skill.
This was going to be easy to progress, but he didn’t know that he’d be able to bring himself to do it often.
By the fallen tree, I’m not sure I want to finish doing this once.
He shuddered, but when he looked toward the medical officer, he knew she was concerned. “I’m fine. I think it’s done.”
She grimaced at her bracelet. “That’s good to know. I’m having some trouble examining you.”
Another ding resounded in his head, and he knew what it was before he looked. That was a setup if I’ve ever heard one.
Attribute Level-Up:Basic Resistance, ExaminationLevel 7 → Level 8
Basic Resistance, MagicLevel 6 → Level 7
He smiled a bit. “Apologies.”
He did his best to focus on those ‘muscles’ within himself and relax them. He even let his status—should anyone seek to Analyze him—fall back into its standard state.
Unfortunately, the parts of himself relating to resisting magic seemed less like muscles and more like a thickened skin. He might be able to shift how something was impacting it to make it more resistant, but he couldn’t pull it aside to allow the magic through. That’s… troubling.
Still, no reason to give her the details. “Any better? I am trying to be open to your examination.”
She rolled her eyes. “That’s not how it works, Alex. Different people have different levels of resistance to magic and investigation. It can be influenced by your Fortitude stats,” she moved her device back up and started scanning again, clearly humoring him. “but it’s not something that… you… What?”
He smiled. “Mind over matter?”
She sighed. “I won’t ask.” She gave him a look that conveyed ‘and you won’t tell me.’ “It seems that you are in perfect health once more.”
He sat up, getting a bit of help from her. “It seems so.”
His head felt a bit heavier than it should be, and he grimaced. “Oh, that’s unpleasant.”
She gave a consoling smile. “Yeah, partial changes can cause a bit of dysmorphia in the worst cases, and some changes in balance in even the best. Both potential issues are mitigated, not removed, with complete shifts all at once or in close proximity, time wise.”
He sighed, nodding, and swaying with the unusual inertia of the movement. “So, I should just do it all at once?”
“Honestly? Yeah.”
He sighed. “I wish I could just be unconscious for it.”
She gave him a puzzled look. “Why couldn’t you be?”
His eye twitched. “What.”
“I’d assumed that you wanted to remain awake to monitor the process, given your new Attribute. Did you think you had to be awake?” She frowned. “Wait, do you have to be awake to heal?”
“What? No. I heal at the same rate either way.”
She shrugged. “That’s good. Then, yeah. I can knock you out with ease. It’ll slow your attribute’s progress at higher advancements, but at Basic? There’s virtually no downside.”
“How long for?”
She smiled. “I can detect wounds and other damage. I’ll keep you under until you’re ship-shape.”
He frowned, trying to move past the fact that this option hadn’t been mentioned earlier. “What if I’m needed on the ship?”
“I’ll wake you, and you’ll have to fly while the healing finishes.”
“Lingering lethargy?”
“None.”
“Slow drop off? Slow wake-up?”
“Near instant in both cases, assuming you’re willing.”
He barked a laugh. “Then, yes. Do that.”
She smiled. “Alright. Let me know when you’ve triggered the change.”
He went into his Attribute menu and chose the Blood Basher modifications for his entire skeleton. “Ready?”
“Ready.”
He confirmed the choice. “Go!”
Darkness claimed him.
Dylan rolled his eyes as he begrudgingly raised his hand.
He’d been out of school for decades, but magical, alien overlords—or whatever—had made it clear that they really liked the collegiate framing device.
It seemed like most people had chosen to have the super powerful beings under the System be labeled admins, but that left him a question.
The speaker saw his hand and paused again. “Yes, Dylan?”
He… didn’t really like that they always knew his name, but there were apparently skills to mitigate that… just like there were skills for everything else. Regardless, he had his question. “Uh, yeah. If Admins aren’t gods, do they still gain power from the devotion of others and from followers?”
That got a mutter of approval from the others in the large lecture hall. Clearly, others had been wondering the same thing, or at least they were wondering it now that it had been pointed out. “Excellent question. The simple answer is no.”
There was a long pause before Dylan decided to just go for it. “Then… Does anyone under the System get power in that way?”
“Of course.”
He waited another long moment before sighing and asking. “…Who?”
The lecturer shrugged. “We put all such classes into the category of Politician.”
A ripple of laughter moved through the audience, and Dylan found himself smiling as well. “Fair enough.”
The lecturer smiled, seeming a bit confused by the response but clearly wishing to get back to his topic. “Now, are there any other questions? Or may I continue?”
Ragnar had ignored the optional lecture offered that evening. He had friends who would tell him anything of import that might have been conveyed.
Instead, he was in the training hall.
Never in his wildest dreams would he have imagined himself in this situation.
He’d been an office flunky, just going through life in a fugue state.
Now?
The bearded axe in each hand practically sang to him as he hacked and spun his way through the ‘dummy’ program, targets moving toward him until he landed a strike.
It was set to the early rankings of the second level, multi-opponent combat simulation. The level had simply had the targets stationary, forcing him to move through them.
A proctor watched from above, ready to answer any questions he might have or provide guidance upon request. It was frustrating that he’d had to correct her on his name three times before something in the System clicked, and it no longer had him noted as ‘Randy.’ He’d left that name behind with the day of war.
Still, she was a useful resource and teacher, and he would ask her eventually, but for now, he just let his weapons guide him, like a partner in a dance, he moved with the axes as one unit.
His ancestors had used such weapons to take what they wanted from the world, to live lives of adventure, treasure, and luxury.
He’d never been able to earn more than a modest living, but now?
Now, a new world was opening before him.
He’d need a crew, of course, and it would take time to become worthy of such. Moreover, they likely wouldn’t have anything in the nature of a long-ship, but the System seemed to have stranger things, so who knew?
The new world would be full of weaklings, all with resources he could claim.
More importantly, the System would allow him to grow strong, stronger with each weakling he crushed.
A smile pulled at his lips as wood-chips flew.
Ragnar thought he was going to like the new world awaiting them, but it would take a lot of work to situate himself in the new order as he wanted.
It was going to be a busy month.
Sara could hardly wait.
Magic, technology, skills, progression. The new world was nothing if not full of potential.
Moreover, everyone could grow and progress. That meant that everyone should have plenty. Plenty of whatever they wanted.
If everyone had plenty then not only should there be no need for conflict, but if anyone did turn out to be in need, everyone else could easily pitch in and help them through the hard times.
The monsters and fighting weren’t great, but that hardly mattered when they could stand together. It even gave an outlet to people who might turn on their fellows otherwise.
Humanity had only needed a chance to unite against the predations of the world without the 1% holding them back.
Now was the time for the common man to shine.
Now was the time for a community of humanity to rise and show the rest of the System just what true comrades could accomplish.
Sara was giddy with joy as she took furious notes, occasionally glancing at the smiling bears on the inside cover. We can do this!
She would need help, and need to offer help in turn, but that was the whole point.
She had an entire month to learn all she could for the betterment of her fellow humans.
Truly, the new world would be a glorious opportunity to show what heights humanity could achieve through peaceful, willing cooperation.