Prologue: ????

Far beyond the frontier of what is known, two old friends sit quietly, overlooking the cosmos.

“What has you looking so frustrated?” The larger of the two asks his companion while he sits contently observing the large window they both share.

A dimly lit screen floats mere inches from the nearby woman’s sapphire blue irises, highlighting her stunning beauty as well as her furrowed brow.

“It’s these difficulty selections for this round of poten-”

“Players.” He corrects her, a small smile now on his face. His friend rolls her eyes, focusing on him for a moment.

“This round of players. I have most of them figured out, but one keeps stumping me.” The annoyed friend grumbles sarcastically, turning her attention back to the screen before continuing.

“They were all fairly difficult to begin with. This round has more outlier players than normal, and I have already spent too much time trying to figure out proper placements and sorting the possible skills for them all.” She huffs as her nail clicks against the chair beneath her, slightly cracking the likely priceless material it is constructed from.

“Perhaps you should allow the System to sort out the player as it deems appropriate. I have relied on this method for almost all of the players in my previous groups and have never felt like it negatively impacted their performances.” The smiling friend says calmly, already knowing his suggestion would fall upon deaf ears.

“Drop the act, you know damn well that I want this round to be different,” she grumbles. “I’m so tired of His group coming out on top every time we do one of these.” A moment of hesitation passes before she finally concedes and shows him the screen in front of her. The ensuing grin only annoys her further, and she crosses her slender arms and sits back in the chair with a huff.

“I don’t really see the problem here, honestly.” He notes, dropping the joking demeanor. “This seems like an easy decision to register them as a LOS difficulty player. Their condition upon entrance will be best addressed in the lowest level of difficulty.” He explains in a technical tone.

She tilts her head to the side distractedly while watching out the window for a moment, “I would agree, but check this one’s highest probability starting skills.”

He twists a long lock of violet hair between his clawed fingers and examines the section she indicated.

“The player holds a 98.67% probability of starting with the skills: and .” He reads aloud with clear interest, “Now I see the dilemma at hand.”

“Exactly.” She sighs. “Avatar as a starting skill is ridiculous. The only issue is that even if they get it upon entry to the Pillar, the weakling will die before they have the chance to do anything with it due to their condition. But if I put them in the lowest difficulty, then the odds of them making the skill worth a shit is almost zero.”

“Unfortunately, I don’t think I have a solution to this issue. The only real answer is to put them in LOS difficulty so they can survive.” Her friend laments as he continues to study the screen, “Anything else, and you are basically setting the player up for an early death.”

His brow furrows even further and she hides a giggle behind her hand at the sight. Enjoying his troubled state for a few moments longer, she pats his broad, fuzzy shoulder and abruptly moves the screen back to her hand.

“Don’t worry about it, big guy. I just thought of something that’ll work out perfectly!” She claims before selecting an option on the screen, making it disappear.

His eyes narrow and he settles back into the chair, not fully satisfied.

“And what, pray tell, was your solution?”

She gives him a beaming smile and kicks back in her chair without a care in the world.

“I put them in the hardest difficulty. If they live, awesome! If they don’t… Sucks for them!”