The massive surge of energy, from the Awakenings eventually faded away. It left a uneasy silence as the final seekers vanished into the peculiar wilderness.
Daniel's crew, though, wasn't freaking out.
They proceeded with a tranquility that seemed unnatural following all that yelling.
They moved away, from the shouting and noises of combat. Their boots produced thumps on the luminous silver grass, which shifted with a captivating quiet undulation.
Here's a clean, human, smooth version:
Above them, the twin suns, one bright white and the other a deep blood-red cast long shadows that stretched out before them.
Ragnar was essentially a fortress taking point. His massive build advanced with certainty and his recently acquired Stoneskin Talent made him nearly eager, for a battle.
Sophie lingered slightly to the side her motions fluid and effortless. She wasn't overlooking anything, her gaze continuously scanning, observing every plant and stone they came across.
Bran, clutching his aching arm stayed near Ragnar. His anxiety was clear a shadow that Daniel believed anyone could have noticed.
Daniel followed at the back his thoughts, in turmoil hidden behind a calm expression.
The huge lie he'd told his teammates felt like a stone, cold and heavy, in his stomach. He was practically a god walking among normal people.
Each move he made was a ruse.
"Look, over there " Sophie's voice broke into his musings, distinct. She indicated a row of trees far off.
The trees grow denser in that area. A superior spot to conceal ourselves.. The land inclines downward. Perhaps we can locate some water.
Ragnar emitted a grunt. "That works, Eyes. The earlier we discover a place to rest the better."
While walking Daniel intentionally reduced his pace allowing some distance to form between himself and the group.
"Wait a moment " he shouted, his tone calm.
Ragnar. Spun around irritation briefly flashing across his expression. "What is it this time Daniel? Did you trip over a stone?"
Daniel dismissed the jab acting as if he was concentrating hard while scanning the area. "Just orienting myself. This spot… something's not right. I need a moment to settle in."
The excuse was straightforward and clear. Sophie gave him a thoughtful glance but then simply nodded, understanding he might require some time to sort things out. Ragnar merely. Walked off allowing Daniel the room he needed.
He shut his eyes shutting out the world beyond to concentrate on the dreadful force that had recently awakened within him. He delved inward beyond the dread and deceit. Explored the vast dormant strength of his true Talent: Soul Assimilation.
It wasn't a document, on a computer display. It resembled being perched at the brink of a shadowy sea. The short summary he glanced at was merely a wave suggesting the immeasurable profundity below.
He sensed the knowledge flood into him not in words. As an innate primal intuition. The core functions became instantly as obvious and essential, as breathing. He could seize the core of his foes, their spirits and convert their power to his advantage. He could consume the energy within items augmenting them with the remnants of the departed. He could assimilate the powers of Awakened—not merely mimic them but genuinely claim them as his own.
His mind surged, outlining the constraints of this ability. The reference, to Assimilation Charges suddenly became clear and ominous. It served as a restriction a boundary preventing him from devouring the world quickly. He. The guidelines of his ability imprinted themselves deeply in his memory.
Assimilation Charges: 10 charges available from Level 0 to 2. A seriously limited resource.
The fees would rise as he advanced in level: 20 for Levels 3–6 30 for Levels 7–10 and continuing similarly. The crucial point that made his heart pound was this: the charges would fully restore to their amount, with each level gained. It was a harsh loop of using resources and then receiving a reward.
Next, the route to power: Experience.
Experience Progression:
* Level 0 \rightarrow Level 1: 50 EXP
* Level 1 \rightarrow Level 2: 250 EXP
* Level 2 \rightarrow Level 3: 600 EXP
* Level 3 \rightarrow Level 4: 1100 EXP
The figures were so straightforward it felt taunting. His entire existence had become a tally. The one keeping count was death.
Experience from Kills:
* Level 1 Creature: 12 EXP
* Level 2 Creature: 20 EXP
* Level 3 Creature: 50 EXP
* Level 4 Creature: 100 EXP
* Level 5 Creature: 180 EXP
He made a detached assessment. He required five Level 1 eliminations to advance to the next stage. Five opponents gone, simply to restore his strength and become more powerful.
Then he noticed the details, the modifiers. Eliminating foes at his level was the standard. However there was a reward for courage: defeating an opponent two or three levels, above him would grant a fifty percent bonus. This realm didn't merely value power; it honored bravery. If he targeted enemies his rewards would be reduced by fifty percent or even more. The system essentially compelled him to advance into greater peril.
He experienced a surge of emotion—half exhilaration, half intense fear. The Talents explanation suggested depth, elements beyond his current comprehension accessible, through 'exploration, application and understanding.' His liberated mind overflowed with possibilities. Was it possible to improve living beings, not merely inanimate items? Could he direct his energy into Bran potentially boosting his friends evolving talent?
The opportunities appeared limitless. He stood at the brink uncertain whether he would glide like a bird or simply plummet endlessly.
"Finished with the sightseeing?" Ragnars voice pierced his reflections pulling him abruptly back, to the present.
He opened his eyes. The world appeared vivid the hues more distinct. He perceived the life-force of his comrades three tiny dim glimmers, amid the vast power of the terrain.
He gazed at them. At Ragnar, whose straightforward faith could be exploited. At Bran, whose anxiety made him unpredictable. At Sophie, whose keen intellect was already searching for flaws, in his narrative.
The falsehood weighed more, than a skyscraper. He possessed a power of making him godlike the might to destroy anyone and reclaim his family. Yet to endure until that moment he needed to seem like the nobody he was acting as. He had to assume the role of the D-Grader the intellect compelled to lead because his abilities were allegedly so feeble.
He drew in a long calming breath the fragrant air soaking his lungs. "Yeah " he replied, his tone perfectly composed. "I'm fine. Lets go."
He retreated into the crowd the deity within him stirring, silently reviewing the guidelines of its reality. He remained a secret, a concealed weapon, in sight. For the moment he would serve as their strength, their strategist, their companion. He would allow them to believe he was the frailest. Yet as they ventured into the darkness of the imposing woods Daniel understood the reality. Finding his family was still everything, but another, far more dangerous quest had just begun: the quest to figure out the limits of the monster sleeping inside his soul. And to keep it going, he was going to need blood.