Alexander leaned back slightly against his motorcycle, the tension in his shoulders easing just enough for him to notice something trivial.
He reached into his pocket.
Pulled out his cigarette carton.
Shook it once.
Light.
Too light.
"…Don't tell me."
He opened it.
One.
Just one left.
A quiet irritation crept in.
"…Tch."
Of all the things to run out of now.
He clicked his tongue, more annoyed than disappointed. Not because he needed it—but because he hadn't managed it properly. Wasteful.
He had a bad habit of taking a cig, lighting it, taking a single puff then tossing it. It normally wouldn't matter much to him since the guy he got them from gave it to him for free.
But now that guy was probably dead.
He took the last cigarette, tossed the empty carton aside, and lit it.
The first drag burned slightly harsher than usual.
Or maybe that was just everything else.
Smoke curled upward, thin and slow, blending into the still air of the classroom.
For a moment, he said nothing.
Did nothing.
Just breathed.
Then his eyes shifted back to the floating panel.
"…Right. When I'm done here, I'm raiding the first place that has cigarettes. But this comes first."
The system.
If that's what it was.
He exhaled smoke through his nose, gaze narrowing slightly.
"If you're going to exist…"
Might as well use it.
A thought formed—simple.
Can it explain itself?
Almost immediately, the panel flickered.
A new message surfaced.
[Focus your intent upon any segment of the interface to receive clarification appropriate to your current authority.]
Alexander's eyes lingered on the word.
"…Authority."
He didn't question it.
Didn't need to.
That clearly tied back to the "gods."
Whatever rules governed this thing—
They controlled it.
"…Figures."
Still, useful.
He shifted his focus to the upper section of the panel.
The response came instantly.
[Level:
As the Valorous One eliminates manifested entities, experience is absorbed. Upon reaching defined thresholds, your level will increase. Each increase grants a rise in base stats, alongside additional free stat allocation to shape your growth.]
Alexander took another drag.
"…So I kill things, I get stronger."
Simple.
Almost comforting.
At least this part made sense.
He moved on.
[Rank:
Rank represents the qualitative state of your existence. It reflects not only accumulated power, but the evolution of your being. For every ten Tier advancements, Rank will ascend. Each Rank transition results in an exponential amplification of your overall capability.]
"…Multiplicative."
So not just linear growth.
Each jump mattered more than the last.
That meant—
Early strength was useful.
But Rank changes?
Those would define everything.
He filed that away.
Next.
[Moniker:
Monikers are designations granted to individuals who perform notable or defining feats. Each Moniker embodies a recognized aspect of your actions and provides tailored enhancements aligned with that identity.]
Alexander's gaze shifted slightly.
"…So it's judging behavior."
He didn't like that. Who the hell has the right to judge him anyway?
But he kept reading.
[Valorous One (Moniker):
For demonstrating valor through the act of risking your life to preserve another, you have been granted this designation. Effect: Increased experience gain when eliminating threats while actively protecting others.]
He paused.
Then exhaled slowly.
"…Valor."
A faint scowl touched his face.
"That's a stretch."
He hadn't done it to save the kid.
Not really.
If the throw had failed, sure—it would've been dangerous.
But he had options.
Retreat was always there.
The boy surviving?
That was secondary.
A side effect.
"…So intent doesn't matter."
Only outcome.
Or maybe—
Only what it looked like.
That thought lingered. Then twisted slightly.
If he had waited…
Let the creature kill the boy first…
Then killed it after…
Would the interface have labeled him differently?
"…Opportunist?"
Something worse? Something better?
He didn't know.
Didn't like not knowing, and the condition—
Protecting others for bonus experience?
"…Annoying."
That wasn't part of his plan.
Helping people got you killed.
Simple.
Still—
He didn't dwell on it.
There were more important things.
His gaze shifted lower.
[Attributes:
Attributes are intrinsic markers of identity. They represent defining aspects of your nature—psychological, physical, or existential. These may be conscious traits or latent characteristics revealed through evaluation.]
Alexander's expression didn't change.
But something in his posture stiffened slightly.
He already knew what was coming.
He focused.
[Psychopathic {Uncommon}:
Your psychological profile reflects diminished empathy and emotional detachment. Your priorities are self-centered, and your capacity for moral restraint is limited. Effect: Enhanced Guile. Reduced Will.]
"…Huh."
No denial.
No outrage.
Just a quiet acknowledgment.
It wasn't wrong.
Didn't mean he had to like it.
"…Bit direct, though."
He flicked ash to the side.
Next.
[Physical Specimen (Rare):
Your physical condition exceeds normative human standards. Muscle density, reflex response, and structural endurance are above average for your demographic. Effect: Increased Might, Resilience, and Finesse.]
That one— he accepted easily.
He had always been physically superior to most. It was how he fought his way out of juvie where most didn't.
It's how he survived.
How he kept others in line, like those pathetic imitations of bullies.
"…Makes sense."
Then—
The last one.
[Undying Physique (Unique):
Granted in recognition of exceptional performance during initial Reckoning conditions. Your body has undergone partial adaptation to death-aspected resilience. Structural integrity is reinforced beyond natural limits, and minor regenerative capability has been introduced.
Effect: Enhanced Resilience. Passive regeneration (low-grade).]
Alexander blinked once.
Then again.
"…Regeneration."
Now that—
That mattered.
A lot.
In a world where one mistake could kill you—
Even minor recovery could mean survival.
"…Not bad."
Actually—
More than not bad.
That was valuable.
Very.
He leaned back slightly, thinking.
So far—
Attributes were real advantages.
Not cosmetic.
Not meaningless labels.
They shaped capability.
Defined limits.
And possibilities.
The rarity tags—
Uncommon. Rare. Unique.
He focused on them briefly.
Nothing.
No explanation.
"…Probably quality."
Better tag—better effect.
Simple enough.
Then—
The Boon.
[Boon:
A Boon is a foundational ability granted upon awakening. It serves as a core expression of your potential, shaping the manner in which your strength manifests. The potency of a Boon reflects both inherent aptitude and circumstantial merit. A human can only possess one boon]
His gaze sharpened.
"…So this is the main one."
The core.
The thing that would define how he fought.
He focused.
[Force Projection (Legendary):
You possess the capacity to extend and manipulate the force generated by your actions. Physical output may be projected beyond the limits of direct contact, redirected, or amplified through controlled release.]
He read it twice.
Then a third time.
"…That's it?"
It sounded—
Underwhelming.
At least on the surface.
No fire.
No lightning.
No dramatic effect.
Just—
Force.
Projection.
"…Depends on how it works."
There were implications.
A lot of them. Range. Impact. Control.
But without testing— it was just theory.
He moved on.
Stats.
Simple enough.
Might was related to strength.
Finesse was related to speed and control.
Resilience was all about durability and endurance.
Guile was mostly about thinking and adaptation.
Will—
He paused there.
"…Mental?"
Maybe.
Or resistance.
Or something else entirely.
Didn't matter yet.
Then—
Runes.
[Runes:
Runes are residual constructs formed from defeated entities. Acquisition is probabilistic. Runes may be integrated to grant additional abilities, enhancements, or modifications.]
"…Drops."
He nodded slightly.
That fit.
Kill something—
Maybe get something.
Useful.
Or not.
Either way—
Worth paying attention to.
He leaned back again, finishing the cigarette slowly as he processed everything.
System.
Growth.
Abilities.
It all lined up.
Too well.
"…Convenient."
Too convenient.
But—
It worked.
That was enough.
'Maybe I should take back what I said about nerds...'
As the last bit of cigarette burned down, he flicked it aside.
And then—
The panel shifted.
New message.
[As the Valorous One has attained sufficient comprehension of the interface, full Awakening may now proceed.]
[Due to the magnitude of systemic integration, preparation is advised.]
[Warning: Pain response will be significant.]
Alexander blinked.
"…Wait—what—"
It hit him.
Instantly.
No buildup.
No warning beyond that.
Pain.
Pure.
Total.
It tore through his body like something had reached inside and started rewriting him from the inside out. Muscles seized. Bones felt like they were being crushed and reforged at the same time.
His breath vanished.
A sound tried to escape—
Didn't.
His vision fractured.
The world tilted—
And he fell off the bike.
Hard.
But he barely felt the impact.
Because the pain—
Didn't stop.
It only got worse.
'I fucking hate you, nerd bastards!'