Magic Breaker Ch 13-15

Chapter 13: Dungeon

We walk up the hill. It wasn’t there before, sprouting from in between damaged buildings. Green grass spilled over from jagged edges of the concrete, puzzle pieces being shoved into each other until they fit, the edges battered. 

The terraforming is strange. Plants shouldn’t just be able to be fused into each other. If we assume they’re all the size of earth, and their surfaces what really matters, then we would need a much larger sphere than what would fit all their volumes. 

It’s safe to assume, then, that some things were adapted, and some discarded, maybe? I don’t feel heavier, either. Maybe space is being twisted around to make it all fit? Is Earth now full of pocket dimensions?

I suppose it doesn’t matter, for now. 

Instead of worrying, I walk up the grassy hill towards the castle. It looms above us, casting an enormous shadow. From up closer I can see that the grey stone is worn and weathered, bearing marks and chips. Some of them enormous.

Parts of the wall have crumbled inwards, as if from being hit with something massive. That combined with the giant furrows makes me think of dragons, just a little. 

As we walk closer, the feel to the mana in the air changes again. The pinpricks settle, just a little. Instead, it starts to feel… ominous? Foreboding?

I don’t think the others notice, but I do. The threshold smells of bricks and fear and dried blood. The castle is in ruins, but it is by no means abandoned.

[Dungeon: Dreadburg. Level: 12]

The announcement comes just as we get close enough to really see the insides of the place. Dreadburg. A dungeon. My eyes light up.

Thatch gives a bit of a whistle. “Daaang, they got dungeons, huh? Level twelve, too. Can we manage that?”

Inu smiles, happily walking up to a hole in the wall and begins clambering up the rubble. “One way to find out.”

“Hah! You know we’ll die if we fail, right?” Thatch says, looking at me this time.

There really is no hesitation in either of the two. I grin. “Yeah. That’s why we won’t fail, right?” 

“Inu, shouldn’t we-” her dad starts, but she waves him off. 

She looks back for just a moment. “Dad. Stop, please. This is the last time I’m asking nicely. Is this dangerous? Yes. Absolutely. We might die. I get it, okay? But just stop nagging us about it. Make suggestions on how to do something, rather than whether or not it’s safe.”

He shuts up, looking annoyed. A moment passes between the two. “Fine,” Norman eventually grumbles, and starts clambering up the rubble. Thatch looks at his mom, meaning just the same. Bay shrugs with a kind of crooked smile, and heads up towards the castle as well.

And then, we all enter the Dreadburg.

Darkness cloys around us. It’s thick, inky, but unlike the thing inside me. That is made of shadow, while this feels more like a… miasma. It’s like a fog, but instead of diffusing light, it’s absorbing it. Not that we’re left alone for too long.

Something clatters in the darkness. 

I reach out with [Selection], trying to lock onto the thing. For a moment, my tether drifts aimlessly, then snaps to a thing. 

It’s coming towards me. Fast.

Without hesitation, I throw myself to the side, and the rocks I had just been standing on explode as something heavy slams into them. It moves with creaking dust, and my mana brushes against it, telling me more.

[Dreadarmor lv. 8]

An empty set of armor, filled with dense miasma. It moves, shifty, and creaks upwards from where it lays. As a small test, I burst one of my mana-grains, and watch as the darkness gets pushed aside by my mana. Good. That should work.

[Suppression].

My skill slams into the armor with force, slowing it down, almost physically crushing it against the ground. “Freeze it!” I yell at Jess.

Snapping out of her stun, the woman casts her spell, and ice begins to gather at the armor’s feet. It pulls one free, but then Thatch’s hand grabs its head and slams it into the floor. His eyes glow emerald, locked onto the monster, and his muscles bulge with [Rage].

I approach the armor, pinned down by the three of us, when Bay steps up to it. She traces her fingers on the armor for a moment, then it falls to the ground, the pieces clattering apart. Huh. I raise an eyebrow at her.

“[Deactivate], one of my skills. That took almost all my mana. The other is [Pulse], which seems to send a small electrical shock. Used to work as a mechanic, so I guess…” she gives a half hearted shrug. 

“Got it,” I nod. That’s helpful. I wanna see her [Deactivate] again. I feel like I could learn from it.

Not that I need to wait for very long. Another animated armor charges us as soon as we open a door, almost crashing into me before Inu puts herself in harm’s way. At the last second before impact, our debuffs land on the armor, and it crashes into the tall girl.

She takes a few steps back, grunting in pain, and I reach out to suppress it, but she waves me off. “I’m okay,” she says, breathing. “I’m… okay.”

Bay quickly deactivates the armor, and it falls apart. “Levelled,” she notes.

I look at Inu. “What level is [Resistance]?” I ask.

“Now? Three,” she says, taking a deep breath. “Two after the arrow. Three after this crash. It… hurts, but I think I can [Resist] the pain, too.”

“You sure you don’t want me to…?”

She shakes her head. “No. It’s good practice for the skill. I’m gonna need the levels if I keep taking hits like that. My arms are all numb. Thanks for the barrier, dad.”

He just nods, sweating. He’s scared, I can tell. Jess, comparatively, seems almost unfazed, her eyes looking into the darkness for more danger. Or maybe she is always scared? I decide it doesn’t matter. 

Instead, I move up to the armor, crumpled on the ground. “Norman, Thatch.” I call out to them as I start taking it apart. Their heads turn to me. “You’re our scouts. Stealth skill and vision skill. See if you can find monsters, Thatch. If he does, you need to kite them here without alerting anything else, Norman.”

Inu’s dad moves to protest, immediately, but I disregard him. My focus is already on the monster corpse.

And it is a corpse. The miasma, the mana around us, is pulling at the plates, little by little. I put my hand on one of them. I can feel the way the world pulls on it, wanting it back. Like a tax on our kill. I push a little bit of my mana up against it, and the feeling pulls back. As if it’s been acknowledged as my property.

“Hmmm,” I hum to myself. The armors don’t wear any weapons. “Inu?” I ask.

“Hm?”

“Think you could use some armor?” 

Her eyes light up. “Oh. Oh my god. Can I?” 

Who doesn’t love a shiny set of armor.

- - -

Dark knight Inu steps forward fearlessly. Her father comes sprinting around the corner, most certainly fearfully. There is a single armor behind him, charging after him in mostly straight lines. 

As the armor starts another charge, Inu steps forward, the plates we’d fastened to her clattering. She pulls her dad and throws him behind her. The armor comes crashing in, instantly suppressed, frozen, and pierced by Thatch’s gaze. It slows, measurably, but still slams into Inu with a horrible crashing sound.

I can see the metal getting dented a little. But against all odds, the girl remains standing. We push the armor to the ground again, and Bay moves up. “Don’t fully deactivate it,” I warn her. “We wanna spread out levels.”

“Right,” she hums. Then, the light in the armor winks out entirely. “Shit.”

Thatch pat’s her back. “It’s alright,” he says. “Controlling skills like that is hard.”

I restrain myself from asking again, instead I return my split [Selection] onto just the thing in my side. It’s hard to keep active on two targets at once, but it makes doing the same for [Suppression] easier. Some distance ahead, my mana grains orbit like landmines. I’m just waiting for an armor to crash into one.

We regroup for a little while. Letting Inu recover from the shock. Wish we had a healer. I really should get on figuring that out.

On that note, actually…

I look at my left hand. The axe I’ve been using is easy to swing with just one. And my mana grains and skills are all just mental. Can I focus as well as I always do when in pain? 

Maybe I’ll focus better.

I slice my palm open with one of the goblin knives. Blood splatters across the bricks, and Jess gasps. Norman looks at me like I’m insane. Bay, too, seems a little disgusted. 

But Inu already gets it. Thatch looks at me. “Are you… okay? What’s that for?”

“We need a healer,” I say. “I’m going to try mana flow variations to help me heal my wound.”

His eyes light up. “Oh, that’s clever!”

“That’s fucking stupid!” Norman says. I look at him, blandly. 

Inu starts talking to him, so I move on. Instead of moving to a pointless debate, I just focus on my wound, swirling my mana around. I know the pattern for [Suppression]. It’s my only skill that feels like it “activates” properly, so I copy that mana flow, first.

It slows the bleeding a little, takes the edge off the pain, but it’s not enough. I [Select] the wound, dealing with the strain on my mind again. I need to know more, need to observe it more closely, and [Select] can make information gathering easier.

Also, it should tell me more on what the pseudo-skills I’m using on my hand do to it. I twist the mana pattern of [Suppression] a bit, trying to wrap my head around it, and it flows through selection. 

The wound worsens. More of my skin cracks open, spilling blood. It hurts. I look at my wound, then try a different twist. Pain reduction. Another twist, more blood, no pain. Another twist…

- - -

Norman brings in another armor. This is the fifth one, and it finally crashes into one of my grains in its charge. As the tiny splinter of glowing mana makes contact with the armor’s leg, it detonates, making my mana flood the area in the same way that ambient mana does.

It’s not solid, but also not quite a gas. It’s just… mana. Invisible, ethereal, but all around. It clashes with the miasma, pushing it out of the armor’s leg, and the thing clatters to the ground.

Satisfied, I focus a bit of [Suppression] on it almost automatically. I maintain focus on the thing in my chest too. I don’t cast [Selection] on the armors anymore cause it takes too much focus away from my bleeding hand.

My mana has damaged it more, but that’s okay. It drips blood, but I don’t mind that either. It’ll be worthwhile, so long as I get a healing skill. Even if I need to ruin it once, it’ll heal, probably.

I definitely should get more points, though. My mana is running dry after so many twists. But I’ve gotten better at casting tiny skill alterations, using so little power for it, and learning more with [Selection].

[Selection 2 > 3]

A small smile plays on my lips. My skills are coming along nicely, compared to my overall level. Character level? It should have a name, surely. Well, not like it matters. The armor is on the floor, crippled. The miasma doesn’t return to its leg.

Bay walks up, but this time, she doesn’t get to finish it. I step forward. “This one’s mine,” I say. No one protests, for once, and I hover one of my mana grains into its helmet visor, then detonate it inside. 

It crumbles, no longer solid, expands, and pushes the miasma out. The thing falls limp.

[You have killed a lv. 9 Dreadarmor] 

[Level Up! 3 > 5]

Two levels. I smile. Six points. I feel like I should probably allocate at least one to heart, so I spent it.

There is an immediate effect. My wound closes up a little around the edges. My eyes widen. In the same way that taking vessel refills my mana a little, body seems to immediately heal some wounds.

On one hand, it means we don’t need a healer as badly. On the other… I redouble my focus on the wound, staring at it, trying to make my eyes go through it. “Thatch? Help me with this. Inu, you too, focus your [Empathy] on me.” 

No questions. My friends just kneel down around me, staring at the wound. I place another point in heart.

My skin closes up a little. It’s smooth, almost elegant, the way new flesh sprouts where old one was before. I felt an inkling, a hint of mana in there, but it was blazing fast. 

“Shit,” Thatch says. “That was… terrifying.”

Inu swallows dryly. “Yeah.”

It was. The mana moved so swiftly I could barely even catch a glimpse of it. Almost invisible. But it was there, I know it was. So I focus even harder. “Can you replay the sensation, Inu?”

She looks at me for a moment. “I’ll try,” she says.

[Empathy] lets her feel a bit of what I’m feeling. I don’t know if the skill should let her replicate emotions of the past, but it might. Maybe. Patterns like this one? It seems unlikely, but worth a try. 

And she does try. A tiny pinprick, a jolt of sensation goes through my hand. It’s not even remotely the same as before. It is like a copy of a copy of a copy. A 4k picture compressed down to messy pixelart. I can barely, ever so slightly, make out the main features.

But it’s also simpler. Less extravagant, less perfect, and horribly inefficient, but I can almost see it, almost. “Again.”

Once more, the pulse comes, and I fail to puzzle it out. Over, and over, and over, and over.

Until Inu’s mana runs dry, and she cannot repeat it anymore. “Let’s wait,” I ask. “One more.”

This time, I don’t [Select] my hand. I [Select] Inu’s [Empathy].

My skill sends out a tendril of sensation, and for a few moments, it hovers in the air, confused at my intent. A greyish wisp of smoke in my mind, not knowing where to go. But the skill is there, I know it is. Inu flinches back.

“What the hell?” she asks. “It feels like I’m being… poked.”

I blink. “It might be me,” I say. “Trying to use [Selection] on your skill.”

She looks at me for a long moment. Then nods. The tendril snaps forward, latching onto her, no, onto a specific part of her. Inu guided it there herself.

The skill is horribly complex. A mess of mechanics and networks I cannot even begin to wrap my head around. It’s enough to give me a headache as I even try to glimpse it. “Your nose is bleeding,” Thatch notes.

I just nod. “Repeat the pulse again, Inu. Three, two, one… go!”

Not a second passes after my words, and I close my eyes, focussing fully on my senses. And it’s there, at the edge of them. Lines of mana, spirals and twists, geometric patterns that web and twist inside of each other. Some pieces repeated and reinforced, some so fragile and thin that a butterfly may snap them by landing on them.

It’s beautiful.

[Selection 3 > 4]

[Selection 4 > 5]

Then the moment passes, and a horrible, raging pain rings inside my skull. I don’t scream. I [Suppress] my own voice.

I curl up into a ball on the floor. It hurts. It hurts worse than anything ever before. I forget to maintain [Suppression] on the thing in my side, and it writhes, but it’s barely a flickering candleflame to the roaring bonfire of pain in my head.

And yet. And yet! 

It’s so beautiful.

Chapter 14: Familiar Face

I open my eyes much, much later. 

Everything hurts. My insides feel like a slurry. The thing crawling through them has made a mess of things. My head hurts. There’s dried blood under my nose, under my eyes, even leaking from my ears and mouth. The world is blurry, it smells and tastes of iron and stale dust.

Four points. I spend one more on heart. The other three go into vessel. 

Blearily, I call up my Status. 

Lv. 5

Heart: 9

Power: 2

Vessel: 12

My heart went up by one naturally. The ground around me is littered with slowly decaying pieces of metal. Almost like a small barricade around me. Slowly, I sit up, my mouth dry, activating [Suppression] on the little parasite again.

It struggles far more, but that’s fine. I just smack my will into it. Again, and again, until it turns placid. My nose starts bleeding again, but I just wipe the tiny scarlet drizzle away, smearing it into my hoodie. I will have to mourn the piece of clothing later. 

Some more time passes as I take the bottle from my backpack, downing some water. It tastes metallic, probably from all the blood in my mouth. Everything aches, I’m sore all over, but that’s fine.

Despite it all, I slowly rise, my expression… placid. I’ve glimpsed it. Just at the very edge of my awareness, ever so distantly. And I’ve been glimpsed in return.

[You have caught the Eye of the Master of Suffering.]

That’s fine, too. If they want to look at me, they are free to. Not like I can do anything about it.

Yet.

Thatch notices me first. I smile. He’s so attentive. “Snow!” he calls. 

“That’s me,” I confirm.

“You were out for hours,” Inu says. “Two and a half, just about.”

I nod, slowly. That seemed about right. “How are things?”

Bay looks at me, leaning against a wall with her arms crossed. “Quiet. We took down armors way deeper in. We’re all level eight, now.” She flashed me a smile. “You’re lagging behind.”

At that, my heart beats faster. I smile. “I’ll catch up.”

“Good. Inu is just about ready. We were considering carrying you deeper if you didn’t wake up,” Norman supplies helpfully.

For a moment, I imagine him touching me and shiver at the thought. I’m lucky I woke up in time.

My head still throbs, but I get up on my feet. It’s hard to walk, and I lean on the wall with my left hand, smearing blood all over it and dirtying what remains of the cut I did to it. Surprisingly, my resources are fine. My mana is full again, other than the bit I used on the parasite.

So, without hesitation, I try to heal my hand again. To twist my mana into that spiralling, beautiful, horrible pattern that makes my head hurt to even think about.

What I make is a pale shadow. A twisted, half-aborted version of [Suppression], with flourishes and twists to mimic the thing I saw even remotely. Instead of a radiant tapestry of stars and strings, a firmament in the sky, what I make is like a child’s crayon drawing. Even worse, really.

It’s barely recognizable, barely passable, not even enough for it to recognize the skill. But. My hand, just faintly, itches. Just ever so slightly, my wound scabs over. It’s not miraculous. It takes time, the cast is difficult, and makes my head ache. But it definitely healed just a bit, I’m sure.

I take a deep breath, and keep the smile off my face. My butchered healing spell, despite all its flaws, is rather pretty, too. I face the empty corridors. “Let’s go then.” And with that, we walk forward.

As we journey deeper into the castle, as the fear around us becomes palpable, creeps up my spine and makes my hair stand on end, I practice. Over and over again, I twist my mana. Over and over and over again. 

- - -

Taking down armors is almost routine. One crashes into Inu. She stops it, we slam it to the ground, debuff, then Bay uses [Deactivate] to partially disassemble them. Whoever needs kills the most does the rest.

With that strategy, we slowly make our way to the castle.

[You have killed a lv. 7 Dreadarmor]

[You have killed…]

[You have killed…]

Notifications come in with every time that I push a grain of mana into their visor, with every time I make it come apart and eradicate the miasma. I’ve gotten better at it, too, packing more mana into each grain. 

[Solidification 1 > 2]

[Level Up! 5 > 7]

I gain two more levels. One point goes to heart, five to vessel. And then, we are in front of a big door. 

It’s enormous. Made from dark wood, the lacquer on it flaking. It feels like a boss room. I give my nails a glance, and decide they need repainting soon. 

A tiny part of me is scared of what might be behind the door. I feel my heart thumping, the way adrenalin floods through me. The way I know I might die. I embrace that. 

The enemies in the castle were all under level ten. This is the room underneath the central spire, the watchtower we’re aiming to climb to find Opal and Sylves. I’m sure there will be trouble. I’m certain. 

But that’s okay. We’ll prevail. I’m sure we will.

Inu and Thatch nod at me. Norman looks to the floor, but Jess gives me a reassuring smile, and Bay a thumbs up. I take a deep breath and push open the door.

Darkness.

Miasma floods out. It’s like the lights were switched off. The smell of rust is overwhelming and disgusting. The dark fog brushes against us like a palpable wave of fear. I can hear Norman taking a step back, can feel the way Jess shivers. 

Thatch taps into [Rage]. Inu [Resists]. I [Suppress] it. We’ll prevail.

I take a step into the chamber. My eyes adjust slowly. In the very middle of it, there is a throne. Upon it, there is an empty suit of armor.

It’s regal, adorned with gold and red, and a plume of crimson waves from its helmet-crown. 

[Dreadking lv. 15]

And, in front of it, there is a human. Two humans. 

There is a girl in a wheelchair, her brown hair braided like a wreath around her head. She wears a light summer dress in pink and white, and there’s a playful glint in her golden eyes as she looks at the king.

But my eyes don’t stick on her. Instead, I focus on the person next to the girl. They’re tall. Dark skin, dreadlocks tied together behind their head, a scruffy goatee on their chin, wearing an open trenchcoat that they’ve lent to me before. Their eyes have a reddish hue, and there is a fierce grin on their face.

Opal points a greatsword at the king. It’s almost as long as they are tall, but looks like it weighs as much as a feather in their hands. If the challenge wasn’t clear enough yet, they speak. “Come the fuck at me!!” they scream to the king, their voice energetic and steady.

The armor moves, but I don’t care in the slightest. “Opal!” I call, and they turn to me.

All of the fierceness in their eyes evaporates. “Snow!” they pause, then brighten even more. “Inu, Thatch!”

Then, the king rises. It happens in the blink of an eye, its sword slamming down where Opal had just stood, but his body was jerked out the way. Ethereal strings wrapped around their joints by the girl in the wheelchair. 

“I would recommend you don’t get distracted too much,” she says, her voice regal.

“Hahaha! Right, right. My bad.” They smile brightly, then look to me again. “Snow! Let’s kill it!”

Smiling back, I nod. “Alright,” I say. I’ve found Opal. Now, all I need to do is keep them safe.

Chapter 15: Dreadking

Already, the fear is palpable in the air. The miasma feels… appropriately dreadful, I suppose. I can feel it, scratching against my mind, trying to infect me, to make me back down, turn tail and run. 

I step forward. [Selection] latches onto the king. Then, through that thin tendril of connection, [Suppression] slams into it.

Until now, each time, it made the armors stumble, but the king barely seems to notice. Its visor turns to me, the darkness beneath it burning. I dodge before I even see it move, jumping to the side.

There’s a crack and the ground splits where I just stood. The king’s sword is stuck in the stone, but the goliath pulls it back out in one smooth motion. It looks at us, as if trying to pick a new target, then settles on Thatch. 

His eyes glow emerald, and I see the king shift faintly under the debuff. As it moves, I double, then triple down on my [Suppression]. It slows, ever so faintly, and Thatch’s skin turns red with anger as he sidesteps. 

A moment later, Inu places an armored boot on the sword, and Opal comes crashing into it from behind, stabbing the greatsword into the gaps of the armor. Some of the darkness seems to spill out into the room, making everything colder and darker, but then the king’s fist crashes into Inu.

The metal of her armor crumples more, absorbing the force of the blow, but still sending the girl flying backwards. I solidify more grains of mana, placing them around the king like landmines as it swings for Opal, who simply… winks out of existence.

Some kind of teleportation, maybe? 

Ice gathers around the animated suit of armor, and Jess becomes its next target. We’re lucky it only charges in a strange line, crashing into one of Norman’s barriers and shattering it before the girl in the wheelchair yanks Jess out of the way with those strange strings.

Then, more of them appear, attached to suits of armor. Their pieces move in a jerky, unsettling way as tiny strings connecting them to the girl’s fingers. There are two soldiers under her command, each one leaping at the dreadking.

Bay sprints at it right after it throws off one of the puppets, and a pulse flows from her hand, through the air, and into the armor. For just a moment, it’s stunned, and the second she steps back, Opal appears above it, slamming the greatsword down on its head. 

Inu rises from the rubble, and Thatch is barrelling toward the animated suit. I direct some of my mana grains towards it, sneaking them into the darkness that seeps from the wounds Opal has inflicted.

The room grows colder yet again, my mana clashing with the miasma, my will forcing the king to be just slow enough where we can manage, and it locks onto me again. It looks different. The darkness seems to pour out of the gaps in the armor now.

With a spin, Opal is thrown off in a blur of cloth and iron, and then it’s on me. 

This time, the king is different.

I see the sword coming and step backwards. It’s slower, almost measured, but I have no defense. All I can do is create more distance, stepping back with each approach, as the monster throws cut after cut.

No longer does it charge and slam, instead its movements are more refined. One slash leads into another, then a thrust comes at my stomach. When I lurch to the side, it slashes at me, and the puppeteer girl has to yank me back. 

A second later, Inu is there, holding bent pieces of armor strapped to her forearm as a makeshift shield. A titanic blow crashes down on her, and I can feel her bones grind in protest as they stop its momentum. 

My friends winces in pain.

Who the fuck does this king think he is?

I redouble my effort on [Suppression]. Once again, the inky thing inside me is forgotten. My pain doesn’t matter. I want this fucker on his knees. I want him dead. 

My will surges like a tidal wave, my mana pouring into the skill as it triggers, over and over, stacking and redoubling the debuff. I see the sneer of darkness on the king turning grim. It stumbles, then falls to a knee. 

Strings and ice wrap around it, and it fights. 

It fights so hard, so violently, and I do not care.

Calmly, with measured steps, I walk towards the kneeling monarch. My eyes don’t blink. My will doesn’t waver. The grains of mana that I’d been placing around as landmines all gather before me. There’s over a dozen of them, and I will them to fuse. 

They crash into each other, each held apart, but I squeeze them more. And more and more, until the grains of rice become a spiky, larger blob. 

[Solidification 2 > 3]

It’s ugly, but it also holds three times as much mana as I can hold with my full vessel.

Gingerly, with my own two hands, I place it inside the visor. The king tries to slash at me, but Opal stops the sword. Thatch grabs its fist. Inu holds down its legs. 

I feel the blob of mana tumbling into the miasma within the armor, and then I detonate it.

A wave of air spills over, the mana instantly disintegrating, spreading, annihilating the miasma. It burns through the force animating the king, and its weakened will struggles against mine. I [Suppress] it more, and my mana does more damage. 

It’s a virtuous cycle, breaking down and eroding the insides of the king until it dies. 

[You have killed a lv. 15 Dreadking]

[Level up! 7 > 10]

[First Threshold crossed! Please select a Class.]

Nine points. I place two in heart, one in power, six in vessel.

Lv. 10

Heart: 12

Power: 3

Vessel: 23

Before I get a chance to talk to my friends, or look at the classes, the system chimes up again. 

[Dungeon: Dreadburg cleared! All participants will be granted rewards.]

[Reward: 1 Tonic, food, water, 1 minor request.]

I look at that last part. It feels like the prompt is waiting for me, growing faintly more impatient as the seconds tick by. What does minor even mean? The prodding becomes incessant.

“Give me something to help practice controlling mana,” I say.

[Reward: 1 minor mana maze.]

Okay. That settles it. This system definitely has a thing for plays on words. All my skills start with “S” and end with “ion”, too. Then, as if to distract me from that thought, things begin to manifest in front of me. 

The food is disappointing. It’s dried or canned stuff, mainly plants and grains. Edible, definitely. There is a salt shaker, too, though it’s only halfway filled. The water is a simple little floating bubble, encased in a layer of mana, and I swipe it up into my bottle. 

What really interests me is the tonic. A bit of red liquid inside a glassy liquid. A healing potion? The name sounds a little too fancy for that. But then again, what do I know? 

Comparatively, the mana puzzle looks mundane. It’s a small, brass cube, though it feels a little heavy. There’s a few channels carved into it, and I’m curious to know how it’s supposed to help me practice. I look forward to it. 

“Holy hell, that was badass, Snow!” Opal says with a laugh. “How’d you do that? The king just stopped. Did it get demoralized or something?”

I smile, just a little. “It’s one of my skills. [Suppression]. I use it as a debuff.”

They grin. “That’s awesome. Mine are [Bound Armament] and [Blink].” They then pointed at the girl in the wheelchair. “That’s Amelie. Hers are [Elasticity] and [Puppeteer].”

She looks at me. “You’re Snow?” she asks, her voice neutral.

“Yeah,” I say.

“I’d have thought you would be taller,” she notes.

I tilt my head. “Why?”

“Opal talked about you a bit. They gave me a… strong impression,” she says.

Not knowing how to reply to that, I just shrug slightly. “Well,” I say. “This is me.” Will the apocalypse change that, though? Remains to be seen, I suppose. I’m curious just how invasive this system is.

Actually, there is a little more I can find out about it just now, isn’t there? “Show me my class selection,” I say.