I stare at the notification for another few seconds, willing it to change. It doesn't.
|| (Fate) Trait Grimoire-Body-Unity forbids Stat Points into Strength.||
|| (Fate) Trait Grimoire-Body-Unity forbids Stat Points into Constitution. ||
|| (Fate) Trait Grimoire-Body-Unity forbids Stat Points into Dexterity.||
The words are clinical, absolute. No room for negotiation. No workaround. My build is fundamentally broken in a way I didn't anticipate, couldn't have anticipated.
I run the givens in my head.
Constitution governs health, durability.
Dexterity affects speed, precision.
Strength determines physical power.
Yet... I'm locked out of all three.
Meanwhile, everyone else can distribute points freely, becoming faster, stronger, more resilient with each level.
I'll stay exactly as fragile as I am right now. Forever.
One hit. That's all it would take. One solid blow from something like that Grotto Imp Ape and I'm done. No second chances. No margin for error.
The irony isn't lost on me. From how I dealt with the Grotto Ape the others probably think I'm the strongest but I compared to their potential have the survivability of wet tissue paper.
I close my eyes, inhale slowly, then make the only choice available to me.
|| Allocate 7 Stat Points to Mana? ||
|| [Yes] ||
|| (Fate) Trait Grimoire-Body-Unity doubles Stat Points into Mana. ||
|| Mana: 27/56 ||
|| Stat Points Available: 0 ||
The change is immediate. I feel it in my chest, that hollow reservoir expanding, deepening. The mana capacity swells like a lung filling with air. It's not physical growth, not in any conventional sense, but I can sense the difference. More room. More fuel. More options.
I've already recovered some of my empties mana from using [Twilight].
Currently, I have a maximum of fifty-six.
Trying to be optimistic I think to myself that if I'm careful, if I manage my resources properly, I might survive long enough to figure out how to work around this catastrophic flaw.
Might.
I dismiss the window and force my attention outward. Dwelling on problems I can't solve won't help. Adaptation will.
Around me, the others have spread out across the clearing, each absorbed in testing their abilities. The air hums with energy, mana being drawn and expelled in unfamiliar patterns. I watch, cataloging details, building a mental database of capabilities and limitations.
Kyle is thirty odd meters to my left, slashing awkward swings at a tree with savage intensity. His short sword is wreathed in a thin red aura that clings to the blade like condensed rage. Each swing bites deeper into the wood than it should, the edge cutting through bark and fiber with unnatural ease. The red energy doesn't just coat the weapon. It enhances it, sharpens it, makes it more destructive.
He pulls back for another strike, muscles coiled, and brings the blade down in a diagonal slash, his ginger hair swinging with him. The tree shudders. A chunk of wood the size of my fist splits off and tumbles to the moss. Kyle grins, feral and satisfied, then immediately sets up for another swing.
Obviously compared to the unnatural thickness of the trees around us the damage is minimal. But I can already imagine how lethal that would be against a Grotto Ape, against us.
The skill seems straightforward. Weapon enhancement. Probably drains mana per use or maintains a constant drain while active. Honestly, it suits him.
My attention shifts to the blonde asian woman, Han Seo-Yeon, who's moving through a series of fluid strikes thirty meters away. She's faster than she should be, each movement precise and economical. In her right hand, she wields a dagger that doesn't quite exist. It's composed entirely of pale cyan mana, shimmering and semi-transparent, shaped into a wicked blade about eight inches long.
She lunges forward, stabs at an imaginary opponent, pivots, slashes horizontally. The mana dagger leaves faint afterimages in the air. When she stops and lets her arm drop, the weapon dissipates into wisps of energy that fade within seconds.
Some type of conjuration skill?
Probably a temporary weapon creation, which would explain why she declined the short sword earlier. She's adept with fast strikes, repositioning, never staying in one place long enough to get pinned down. Dangerous if she can close the distance. In a fight she's better kept at range.
Harvey is practicing further back, near the edge of the clearing. He's not using a weapon. Instead, he's throwing punches and kicks at open air, each movement deliberate and controlled. Trails of pale, wind-like energy follow his strikes, lingering for half a second before dissipating. The energy doesn't seem to extend his reach significantly, maybe an extra few inches, but I watch as he punches toward a low-hanging branch three feet away and the wind energy surges forward, shaking the leaves.
So it does have range. Limited, but it's there I suppose. A combat art that enhances his physical strikes with elemental force. He already knows how to fight hand-to-hand. The skill just seems to amplify what he can already do.
Forbes is boxing twenty meters to my right, his stance textbook perfect. His fists are coated in dull orange flames that flicker and pulse with each movement. He throws a jab, a cross, a hook. The flames don't burn him, don't spread to his clothes. They're contained, controlled, responsive to his intent.
He pauses, breathing hard, and the flames dim but don't extinguish. So it's a sustained effect, not a burst. The skill, or at least how he's using it seems mana efficient.
My gaze drifts to Hayden, who's standing alone near a moss-covered boulder. He stretches both hands forward, fingers splayed, and a burst of blinding white light erupts from his palms. I instinctively squint, turning my head away. When I look back, the light is already fading, and Hayden is staring at his hands with a confused, frustrated expression.
No visible damage. No environmental change. Just a really bright light. Useless for offense, probably.
But then I notice something else. His shadow, cast long and sharp by the alien sun filtering through the clouds, is moving. Not in response to his body. It's wiggling, rippling like something alive is trapped beneath the surface. The edges blur and stretch, then snap back into place when he lowers his hands.
I file that observation away. Hayden himself doesn't seem to have noticed yet.
Finally, I turn my attention to Nocuous, who's standing perfectly still near the opposite edge of the clearing. At first glance, he hasn't moved at all. But the longer I look at him, the harder it becomes to keep him in focus. My attention slides off him like oil on water. I know he's there. I can see him. But my brain keeps trying to convince me he's not worth noticing.
It's unsettling. Subtle. If I weren't actively trying to observe everyone, I might have forgotten he existed.
Then he raises one hand and pricks his index finger with the tip of his switchblade. A bead of blood wells up, dark red against his pale skin. Instead of dripping to the ground, it doesn't fall. The blood swirls, rotating slowly around his fingertip like a tiny crimson planet orbiting a star.
He watches it for several seconds, expression unreadable, then flicks his finger. The blood droplet flies off and splatters against a nearby rock.
I catalog all of it. Offensive capabilities. Range limitations. Mana costs where I can infer them based off my own senses. Behavioral patterns and cues.
Knowledge is survival. And given my newly learned limitations, I need every advantage I can get.
Movement in my peripheral vision draws my attention. Sophaulia is standing alone near the far side of the clearing, both hands raised in front of her, brow furrowed in concentration. The brunette holds the pose for several seconds, then drops her arms with a frustrated sigh. She tries again. Same result. Her shoulders slump.
I watch for another moment, then make a decision. She's struggling, and unlike the others, her skills are support-oriented. She won't figure them out through trial and error the way combat skills allow.
I walk over, keeping my approach visible so I don't startle her. "Having trouble?"
She jumps anyway, spinning to face me. "Oh. Um. Yes. I can't, I don't know how to make them work. Everyone else is doing all these, these things, and I just..." She gestures helplessly at her hands.
"What are your skills called?"
She hesitates, then pulls up her status window. Her eyes flick across information I can't see. "Recovery and Calm. Both level one."
Recovery and Calm. Support skills, like she said. Healing and mental stabilization, most likely. Useful, potentially invaluable, but not intuitive to activate without a clear target or intent.
"Have you tried directing them at something specific?" I ask. "Based off the names the skills might require focus on a target and a clear intention. You're not just activating the ability. You're using it on someone or something."
Her eyes widen slightly. "Oh. I, I didn't think about it like that. I was just trying to turn them on."
"Try focusing on yourself," I suggest. "Think about Recovery first. Picture the skill targeting you, alleviating fatigue or minor injuries."
She nods, biting her lip, and closes her eyes. Her brow furrows again, but this time there's purpose behind it. Ten seconds pass. Twenty.
Then her eyes snap open, and she gasps softly. A faint greenish glow envelops her hands for a brief moment before fading. Her posture straightens. The tension in her shoulders eases. Color returns to her cheeks.
"It worked," she breathes. "I feel, I feel better. Not completely, but better. Like I slept a little."
"Good. Now try Calm. Same process."
She nods, more confident now, and closes her eyes again. This time the effect is faster. A soft, pale blue shimmer passes over her like a ripple in water, there and gone in an instant. When she opens her eyes, the fear that's been lurking in them since we woke up has diminished. Not gone, but muted. Manageable.
"That's incredible," she says, voice steadier than I've heard it all day. "Thank you. I don't think I would have figured that out on my own."
"You would have," I say. "Just would've taken longer. Can you use them on other people, or just yourself?"
"I think so? Let me try." She raises one hand toward me, hesitant. "Is that okay?"
I nod.
She focuses, and a moment later, I can feel the movement of the mana as that same greenish glow tries washing over me. I let it do so.
Then a subtle, a gentle warmth that seeps into my muscles and eases aches I hadn't consciously registered. The strain from unconscious flexing, the tension from crouching when Nieshar clapped, it all softens. Not gone, but diminished.
Then she uses Calm. The pale blue shimmer settles over me like a cool breeze. The anxiety gnawing at the edges of my thoughts, the fear I've been compartmentalizing since I woke up in this forest, it doesn't disappear. But it becomes quieter.
"It works," I confirm. "Those are going to be valuable."
She smiles, genuine relief brightening her features. "Thank you, Lacrima. Really."
I nod and step back, scanning the clearing. The others are finishing up their practice sessions, mana reserves likely running low. Forbes is breathing hard, flames extinguished. Kyle is leaning against the tree he mutilated, wiping sweat from his forehead. Han has dismissed her dagger and is stretching her arms.
Forbes raises his voice, cutting through the ambient noise. "Alright, everyone back to the center. We need to talk about next steps."
We reconvene in the same rough circle we started in, though the dynamic has shifted. Less hostile now. More pragmatic. We've all seen what we can do. The abstracts have become concrete.
Forbes takes point again, adjusting his glasses. "First priority is water and food. We have supplies in our bags, but they won't last long. Second is shelter. Sleeping exposed isn't sustainable. Third is information. We need to understand this floor, the threats, and how to progress."
Harvey sighs. "Food will run out in two, maybe three days if we ration."
"I can help with water," Forbes adds. "One of my skills is water conjuration. I tested it earlier. I can generate maybe two bottles' worth before I run dry on mana. Ten-point capacity isn't much."
"That's something, at least," Han says. "What about food? Anyone have gathering or hunting skills?"
Silence.
"Fantastic," Kyle mutters. "So we're gonna starve unless we kill things."
"Nieshar mentioned a lake at the center of the floor," I say. "Healing properties, supposedly. Might have fish or other resources."
"How far is the center?" Hayden asks.
"We have no idea," Harvey replies. "Could be a few hours' walk. Could be days. We don't have a map, and this mist makes visibility garbage."
Forbes taps his chin, thinking. "Then I propose we stay here for today. Use the System's timer to measure how long a full day-night cycle is. We don't know if this world operates on a twenty-four-hour rotation. Better to gather information before we commit to traveling blind."
"Agreed," Han says immediately. "Moving through unknown terrain with unknown threats while we're still figuring out our abilities is asking to get killed."
"What about those things?" Kyle jerks his thumb toward the forest where the Grotto Imp Ape attacked from. "You think more of them are out there?"
"Definitely," I say. "That one came straight for us. It knew we were here. If there are more, they'll come eventually."
"Then we set a watch rotation," Harvey says, falling into old habits. "Two people awake at all times. Four-hour shifts. Rest when you can."
Nobody argues. It's the most sensible plan we've had since waking up.
The conversation shifts. Someone asks what the last thing they remember before waking up here was. Forbes goes first.
"I was on a train," he says slowly, brow furrowed. "Heading home from campus, I think. Late afternoon. I remember sitting by the window, reading something on my phone..."
"Train?" Han repeats. She looks startled. "I was on a train too. Commute from practice."
One by one, the others chime in. Harvey, traveling between towns. Kyle, coming back from somewhere he doesn't specify. Hayden, heading to visit someone. Nocuous says nothing, but doesn't deny it either. Sophaulia nods hesitantly. "I think so? It's hazy. But yes. A train."
I sift through my own memories. They're blurred, like trying to see through fogged glass. But the shape is there. A train. Seats. The rhythmic clatter of wheels on tracks. Then nothing.
"So we were all on the same train," Forbes concludes. "That's not coincidence. The System selected us and pulled us out during transit."
"Convenient," Nocuous says quietly. "No witnesses. A closed environment. Easy extraction."
The implication hangs heavy. The System didn't just choose us. It orchestrated the scenario to take us without disruption. How many other trains, buses, planes are being used the same way across the planet?
We fall into silence, processing.
Then Forbes clears his throat. "Lacrima, you mentioned you got something from killing that creature. Prims? And a notification about an achievement. Can you elaborate?"
I nod. This is information they need. "When I killed the Grotto Imp Ape, I got a System announcement. First Kill Award, ten prims. Also an achievement for item loot box, which gave us the weapons. I leveled up from zero to one and received three stat points. My Mana Manipulation skill also increased in level."
"We saw the announcement too," Han says. "It wasn't just visible to you. The whole group got notified you earned First Kill."
Interesting. Public notifications for achievements.
Is that what Nieshar's comment about "audiences" was about?
"So killing things gives experience, levels, and currency," Forbes summarizes. "Standard progression mechanics. Prims are probably used to buy things, though we haven't seen a shop interface yet."
"Might unlock later," Harvey suggests. "Or at specific locations."
The discussion continues, theories bouncing back and forth. Someone suggests checking if the System has a party interface. Forbes tries a few commands, but nothing triggers. Either it doesn't exist yet, or we haven't unlocked it.
Eventually, the topic shifts to the bottles Nieshar gave us. Eight round-bottomed containers filled with thick aqua liquid. Vukmir extract. Supposed to "awaken our souls to mana."
Harvey picks his up, examines it against the light. "I'll drink first. If it kills me, at least the rest of you will know not to follow."
"Reassuring," Hayden mutters.
Harvey uncorks the bottle and downs the contents in three heavy swallows. He grimaces. "Tastes like dirt and mint had a baby and then drowned it."
We wait. One minute. Five. Ten.
Harvey rolls his shoulders, flexes his hands. "I feel... warm. Like something's moving in my chest. Not painful, just strange."
Forty minutes later, he's still fine. One by one, the others drink. Kyle goes next, then Forbes, then Han. Hayden hesitates but eventually follows. Nocuous drinks without comment. Sophaulia takes tiny sips, face scrunched in disgust.
All eyes turn to me.
I shake my head. "I'm not drinking mine."
"Why not?" Kyle challenges immediately.
"Because I don't need to," I say. Then, before anyone can press further: "Look, I'll explain mana in exchange for a promise. No one asks how or why I already know this. Agreed?"
The group exchanges glances. Forbes nods first. "Agreed."
The others follow, even Kyle, though his expression is sour.
I take a slow breath, organizing my thoughts. "Mana is a particle-wave energy. It permeates everything. The air, the ground, living things, objects. Most people can't sense it naturally, which is why the Vukmir extract exists. It forces your body to recognize and interact with mana on a fundamental level."
I gesture to the space around us. "Right now, mana is everywhere. You just can't see it. But you can learn to feel it, and eventually, manipulate it. Start by closing your eyes and focusing on your breathing. Don't try to do anything. Just observe. Feel for something that isn't temperature, isn't wind, but exists in the space around you."
They follow my instructions, settling into seated positions, eyes closed.
"Mana moves," I continue, keeping my voice steady. "It flows in currents, pools in concentrations, responds to intent. When you activate a skill, you're drawing mana from your internal reservoir and shaping it into a specific effect. But you can also draw mana from the environment to replenish that reservoir. That's what you're learning now. Passive absorption."
Minutes pass. Ten. Fifteen. I watch their expressions shift. Confusion giving way to focus, then surprise.
Forbes is the first to open his eyes. "I felt it. Like static electricity, but not quite."
"That's it," I confirm. "Now try pulling it inward. Imagine breathing it in, directing it toward your chest where your mana pool sits. Slowly."
They try. It's clumsy at first, inefficient. But gradually, one by one, notifications flicker into existence above their heads, visible only to them based on their reactions.
"I got a skill," Han says, startled. "Novice Mana Manipulation, level one."
The others confirm the same. Even Kyle looks grudgingly impressed.
"That's the foundation," I say. "Everything else builds from there. Practice it when you can. The skill will level, and your control will improve."
Forbes studies me with an unreadable expression. "You already knew all of this. Before the System, before any of this."
It's not a question.
I don't answer.
He nods slowly. "Alright. You kept your end. We'll keep ours."
The tension eases again. Trust isn't built in a day, but small foundations are being laid.
The group breaks off into smaller conversations, comparing notes on their new skill, discussing watch rotations and supply rationing. I take the opportunity to step away, moving toward the far edge of the clearing where the mist thickens.
I've been avoiding this. Postponing it. But I can't anymore.
I pull up my status window and focus on my passive skill.
|| Nonpareil Mana Gaze ||
One passive slot filled. Five remaining. I don't know what this does. The name suggests vision, perception. Something related to seeing mana.
I reach for it the same way I reached for my active skills, and toggle it on.
The pain is immediate.
Searing. Acute. Concentrated in my eyes like someone pressed hot needles directly into my optic nerves. I bite down hard, jaw clenched, swallowing the scream that wants to rip out of my throat. My vision whites out. I drop to one knee, one hand pressed against the ground to steady myself.
Don't make noise. Don't draw attention. Endure.
Sixty seconds. The longest sixty seconds of my life. The pain doesn't fade. It builds, crests, holds at an unbearable peak, then finally, mercifully, begins to recede.
I'm gasping when it ends, sweat dripping from my forehead, my hands shaking.
I open my eyes.
The world has transformed.
Mana. Everywhere. Visible. Tangible.
The air itself shimmers with countless tiny motes of light, drifting and swirling in invisible currents. The trees glow faintly, their bark veined with pale green energy. The ground pulses softly, networks of mana flowing beneath the moss like subterranean rivers.
The two moons overhead are blazing beacons, saturated with power. The mist is alive, condensed mana given semi-physical form.
It's breathtaking. Overwhelming. I can see the mana concentrations, the flow patterns, the places where energy pools and eddies. I can see the residue left by our skills, faint traces still lingering in the air where Kyle swung his sword, where Han conjured her dagger.
I turn back toward the group, and the sight makes me pause.
Each person has a faint aura, mana circulating within their bodies, brighter around their chests where their reservoirs sit. Forbes glows slightly warmer than the others, his fire affinity visible even at rest. Nocuous is dimmer, his presence suppression skill leaking into his passive aura.
And then Sophaulia notices me looking and meets my gaze.
Her eyes widen. "Lacrima, your eyes."
I blink. "What about them?"
"They changed. Your, your iris is red now. And there's this gold, this yellow halo inside it."
I raise a hand to my face, touching just below my eye. I can't see the change myself, but I feel the difference. The passive skill didn't just enhance my vision. It altered me.
Sophaulia looks concerned. "Does it hurt?"
"Not anymore," I say, which is technically true.
She nods slowly, still staring. "It looks... intense."
I turn away, focusing back on the forest, on the mana flowing through everything.
Nonpareil Mana Gaze. I understand now. This is sight beyond sight. Perception beyond normal limits. Information feels like it's flooding into my head, and every second that it persists my head grows more and more cloudy.
This passive skill is powerful.
And I need to turn it off.