The status window expands, flooding my vision with information that feels both impossibly alien and disturbingly game-like.
***
User: Lacrima
—————
Title: N/A
—————
Rank: Recruit
—————
Floor: 1 — The Woodland Grotto
—————
Time Left Until Forced Return:
4y 364d 16h 48m 12s
—————
Class: (locked)
Subclass: (locked)
—————
Trait(s):
Grimoire-Body-Unity (Fate)
—————
Stats:
Constitution: 14
Dexterity: 22
Strength: 14
Mana: 40/40
—————
Active skills (3/12):
Manifestation - Lvl 1
Twilight - Lvl 1
Mana Manipulation - Lvl 12
—————
Passive skills (1/6):
Nonpareil Mana Gaze
—————
Prims: 0
—————
Stat Points Available:
5
—————
||
For a moment, I just stare.
Soon after, various questions begin flooding my mental space like the mirage of an incoming tide.
What's a title? What does my rank symbolize? How do I increase it? If this is the first floor, how do I get to the second? Why is my "Class" locked? Is this the scholastic definition or the RPG definition? How do subclasses relate to my class? When do I get a subclass and or class? What does my trait mean? Is the "(Fate)" a suffix classifier, or is it part of the name? Did my timer start at 5y 365d? What do the numbers associated with each of my stats quantitatively associate with? Is it quantitative or qualitative? Does muscle mass influence stats? Do stats influence muscle mass? What qualities make the "System" qualify something as a particular skill? How or passive and active skills different? Where did my other two active skills come from? What do I need these skills for?
Those and tens, maybe a hundred other questions quickly blink in and out of focus.
Around me, the others are still absorbed in their own screens. Forbes mutters something about "balanced stats." Kyle's grin is sharp and ugly. Han Seo-Yeon's expression is unreadable, but her fingers move with purpose, clearly allocating points.
I force my attention outward, grounding myself in what I can control.
We're in a broad, mist-choked basin where the earth rolls like something sleeping and dangerous. The light filters down in reluctant shafts through massive cumulus clouds. Further out, I can see tall, broad, cataclysmic trees, mossy thick spruces reaching out their leaves almost thirty meters into the pale air. The air tastes cold and wet, and every sound dies before it can echo.
And above us, two moons hang in a bruised sky, cratered and alien.
I take a slow breath. The world I knew is gone. But I'm still here.
"Excuse me, uhm... Lacrima?"
I turn. Sophaulia stands beside me, wringing the strap of her oversized school bag, eyes flicking between me and likely her own translucent screen.
"How many active skills do you have?"
For a moment, I pause, pondering just why exactly she's chosen to target me as her person for questions.
From what I can tell, by the matching emblems on the chest of each of their uniforms, Forbes, the reliable-looking curly high-top guy, is her schoolmate.
However, I push that line of questioning to the side and think about the question she actually posed. It is, after all, an interesting question. It's specific.
She's not asking what they are yet, just gathering data points.
"Three," I say carefully. "Though I'm as confused as you are about what they mean."
Her shoulders relax slightly. "Oh, okay. I—I have two. I thought maybe I did something wrong, but if you have three, then..." She trails off, then, taking advantage of that lapse, I ask a question of my own. One I've been thinking about from the moment I saw my stats window.
"If you're comfortable telling me, what level are those skills, Sophaulia?"
For a flicker, I see hesitation wade itself onto her face, like she's not sure whether it's safe to answer.
"Both level one." She bites her lip. "Do you think that's... normal?"
"Likely, mine are as well. My running suspicion is that we're all given level one skills to start." Noticing that she still has some tension in her posture even after my reassurance, I add.
"However, I think 'normal' stopped applying about fifteen minutes ago."
That gets a nervous laugh out of her. But before she can say more, Forbes' voice cuts through the low murmur of the group.
"Alright, now that introductions are out of the way, we should consolidate our information. My skills are—"
"Slow the fuck down, Golden Boy." Kyle's voice is a sneer wrapped in a growl. "Why the hell should I tell you my skills? I don't know any of you, much less trust any of you."
Forbes doesn't flinch. But his expression grows irritated, his brows hunching, and I can see the muscles of his arm tense. "Because we're in an unknown environment with unknown threats, and pooling information increases survival odds for everyone."
"Survival odds," Kyle mimics, his tone dripping with mockery. "Listen to this guy. You think we're in some team-building exercise?" He gestures wildly with the hand not holding his switchblade. "This is a death game, Golden Boy. And I'm not about to hand my advantages to strangers who might stab me in the back the second it's convenient."
"Nobody's asking for your life story," Han Seo-Yeon interjects, her voice sharp and direct. "Just skills. Broad categories. Enough so we're not walking blind."
Kyle rounds on her. "Oh, and you're trustworthy because...?"
"Because I'm not an idiot," she says flatly. "If we all die separately in the next few hours because we refused to cooperate, your paranoia won't have mattered much."
There's a beat of tense silence. I watch the dynamic unfold, cataloging reactions.
Harvey, the retired sheriff, stands with his arms crossed, observing but not intervening yet. I'm suspecting it's probably because he's used to letting conflicts play out to see people's naked intentions.
Hayden looks uncomfortable, like he wants to de-escalate but doesn't know how. Nocuous is utterly still, his breathing almost clinically steady and his switchblade nowhere in sight, but his posture suggests he could produce it in a heartbeat.
Meanwhile, Sophaulia's grip on her bag strap tightens.
"He has a point, though," Nocuous says quietly, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade through silk. "Trust is earned. Not freely given."
Forbes exhales slowly, adjusting his glasses. "Fine. Then let me reframe. I'm not asking anyone to trust me. I'm proposing a trade. Information for information. I'll go first to demonstrate good faith. If you don't want to participate, don't. But anyone who does might gain useful context."
Kyle snorts but doesn't interrupt.
Forbes continues. "I have four active skills. Two are combat-oriented, one is utility, and one is defensive. All level one. My trait is Epic-grade, enhancing physical coordination. I had 5 stat points to allocate." He pauses, letting that sink in. "Your turn. Anyone."
Five points.
I glance to the side at my own screen. Five.
For a moment, I wonder if the coincidence is just between the two of us or is shared amongst everyone.
However, my other question is why he had four skills when I have three and Sophaulia has two.
Next, Harvey clears his throat. "Three skills. Two combat, one passive sensory. Trait's Noble-grade, related to threat assessment. I had five points also." His gaze flicks briefly to Nocuous again, then away.
Han Seo-Yeon doesn't hesitate. "Three skills. One offensive, two mobility-based. Trait's Arcane-plus, stamina-related. Five points to distribute."
I guess that answers my stat point question.
Hayden shrugs. "Two skills, both kinda weird utility stuff. Trait's Rare-grade. Five points."
Nocuous being next says his words mechanically and swiftly. "Two skills, stealth and a versatility skill. I think it's safe to say we all have five points."
Sophaulia looks at me, as if asking permission. I give a small nod.
"Two skills," she says softly. "Both... support, I think. Trait Noble-grade. "
All eyes turn to me.
I weigh my options. Lying would be easy, but if we end up working together, even temporarily, inconsistencies will show.
"Three skills," I say. "Two utility, one... unclear. My trait has something to do with mana."
For a moment I see a flicker in Forbes' expression, as though he's about to ask me something.
He never gets the chance though.
Growl.
The growl starts low, a bass rumble that I feel in my sternum before I hear it. Then it rises, guttural and hungry, rattling through the mist like a saw blade dragging across bone.
My body pivots before my mind catches up. The world narrows. Broadens. Sharpens.
It emerges from the tree line like something out of a nightmare wearing flesh.
At first glance, the proportions are all wrong. It stands upright, barely a meter tall, but its arms are grotesque, each one thick as a grown man's thigh and reaching past its knees in ape-like distortion. The fur is patchy, mottled black and cream in irregular swaths, like someone tried to skin it and gave up halfway. Around its neck and shoulders, the fur grows longer, wilder, forming a leonine mane that bristles as it moves.
But it's the face that makes my breath catch.
Pale blue eyes, piercing and intelligent, locked onto me with predatory focus. The snout is blunt, almost canine, lips pulled back to reveal rows of yellowed fangs. Froth gathers at the corners of its mouth, thick and viscous, dripping onto the moss below. It breathes in sharp, wet snorts, nostrils flaring.
This thing isn't just hungry. It's calculating.
The creature drops to all fours, and I see the true horror of its build. Those massive arms become supports, knuckles pressed into the earth, corded muscle visible beneath the patchy fur. Its legs are shorter, built for explosive power rather than endurance. A thick tail, striped in black and white, lashes behind it like a whip.
It wears a belt. Leather, crude but functional, with a heavy buckle that catches the dim light. The detail is wrong, too human, too purposeful. This isn't just a beast.
Behind me, someone swears. Footsteps scramble backward. Sophaulia's breathing spikes into panic.
The world slows.
My hands leave my pockets. My breath evens out, deep and controlled. The sensation blooms in my chest, familiar and forbidden, the life I tried to leave behind bleeding back into the present like ink through water.
The creature growls again, deeper this time, and then it moves.
The distance between us collapses. A hundred meters becomes eighty, sixty, forty. It doesn't run. It lopes, using those grotesque arms like pistons, launching itself forward in bounding strides that eat up ground faster than anything that size should move. Each impact sends tremors through the earth. I can see the individual muscles in its shoulders bunch and release, the way its claws tear divots from the soil.
I don't move.
Instead, I reach inward, pulling at the reservoir I've been pretending doesn't exist. The mana responds immediately, eager, flowing down from that hollow space in my chest. It travels through my arms like molten glass, slow and searing, pooling between my palms.
The sensation is electric, tangible. I raise one hand toward the charging beast, fingers spread, and the mana coalesces.
Thirty meters. Fifteen.
It's close enough now that I can read its status.
|| Grotto Imp Ape — Level 4 ||
The orb forms between my palms, no larger than a fist, compressed and dense. It doesn't just glow in that familiar warm golden light. It pulls, warping the air around it like heat shimmer. I can feel the weight of it, the pressure against my skin, the way it wants to expand and I'm forcing it to stay small, contained, lethal.
Fifteen meters.
I see every detail now. The creature's eyes, locked on me with feral intelligence. The scars hidden beneath its mane, old wounds that speak of survival. The way its blue jaw begins to open, impossibly wide, purple tongue curling back as if to swallow the threat whole.
Behind me, Kyle is screaming. Sophaulia has already fled. None of it matters.
The beast's maw yawns open, fangs glistening with saliva, and I let go.
The orb doesn't fly. It launches, tearing through the air with a sound like ripping fabric. The beast doesn't even try to dodge. Maybe it doesn't understand what it's looking at. Maybe it thinks it can bite through anything.
It can't bite through this.
The impact is soundless for a fraction of a second, the orb meeting bone and sinew and pressurized biology. Then the creature's head detonates.
The skull fragments outward in a wet spray, almost reaching me chunks of bone and brain matter scattering across the clearing grass in a radius of gore. The body continues forward for two more steps, propelled by momentum alone, before the legs give out and it collapses into a twitching heap five meters from where I stand.
Steam rises from the ruined neck. Dark blood, nearly black, spreads in a slow pool. The tail gives one final lash, then goes still.
Silence.
Then, overlaying my vision like an afterimage:
|| System Announcement: First Server Kill Award — Lacrima +10 prims||
|| (Fate) Trait Grimoire-Body-Unity halves experience due to a large difference in status. ||
|| Achievement Unlocked — +1 Item Loot Box ||
|| Lacrima — Level 0 > Level 1 ||
|| + 3 stat points ||
|| Mana Manipulation — Level 12 > Level 13 ||
I inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale.
I see, so that's one question answer. That's how we level up skills.
I can see the silence stretching behind me. Feel it, actually: heavy and shocked and utterly still.
I don't turn around immediately. Instead, I stare at the corpse of the Grotto Imp Ape, watching steam rise from what remains of its head. The body twitches once, twice, then goes still. Dark blood, nearly black, pools beneath it. The smell is acrid, wrong, like burned hair and copper.
The notifications are still hovering in my peripheral vision. I dismiss them with a thought, intuitive, like closing a tab in my mind, and only then do I allow myself to look back at the group.
Seven faces. Seven distinct expressions of shock.
Kyle's switchblade is out, held in a white-knuckled grip, but his arm hangs uselessly at his side. His mouth is open slightly, the sneer wiped clean off his face.
Forbes has gone very still, the kind of stillness that comes from a brain working overtime to recalculate everything.
Han Seo-Yeon's ready stance has shifted. She's not looking at the corpse. She's looking at me, eyes narrowed, reassessing.
Hayden has both hands pressed to his mouth, shoulders hunched like he's trying not to vomit.
Nocuous hasn't moved, but his eyes (pale and sharp) track from the dead creature to me and back again with clinical precision.
Harvey's hand has moved to his hip, probably an old habit from when he carried a gun. His jaw is tight.
Sophaulia stands about ten meters away, half-hidden behind a tree trunk, her school bag clutched to her chest like a shield. Her eyes are wide, glassy with fear.
"What the fuck," Kyle breathes.
I look down at my hands. They're trembling slightly, an aftereffect of the mana expenditure. The sensation in my chest (that emptiness) is familiar in a way that disturbs me. Muscle memory from a life I already escaped.
"It was going to attack us," I say. My voice comes out steadier than I expected. "I reacted."
"Reacted?" Forbes takes a half-step forward, then stops, like he's recalculating safe distances. "You... that thing's head just... you exploded its head."
"Yes." I don't know what else to say to that. It's an accurate observation.
"With what?" Han demands. "What skill was that?"
I glance at my status window, still visible in the corner of my vision. Three active skills. Manifestation. Twilight. Mana Manipulation.
"Mana Manipulation," I say.
"That's..." Forbes starts, then stops. His eyes are darting, probably trying to reconcile what he just saw with whatever his own skills can do. "That's one of your utility skills?"
I didn't say utility. I said two utility and one unclear. But I don't correct him.
"It manipulates mana."
"No shit," Kyle spits. "But how the fuck did you do that? We all just got these screens. How are you already..." He gestures violently at the corpse. "...doing that?"
"I don't know," I say, which is the safest answer. "The System gave me the skill. I used it."
"Bullshit." Kyle's knuckles are white on his switchblade. "You're hiding something."
"We're all hiding something," Nocuous cuts in. His voice cuts through the tension. "No one shared their exact skills. Just categories. He doesn't owe us an explanation."
"He just blew a monster's head off and you think that's fine?"
"I think it's useful," Nocuous replies, his tone flat. "And I think if he wanted us dead, we'd already be dead."
The logic is cold but effective. Kyle doesn't have a response to that.
Harvey clears his throat. "The kid's got a point, though. That thing came out of nowhere. Fast. And you handled it like..." He pauses, studying me. "...like you've done this before."
I meet his gaze. This retired sheriff is sharp.
"I've never fought a Grotto Imp Ape before," I say, which is technically true.
"But you've fought," Harvey says. It's not a question.
I don't answer. Instead, I gesture toward the forest. "That thing came from somewhere. And it probably wasn't alone."
The silence that follows is different now. Less shocked, more alert. They're all scanning the treeline, tensing for threats they can't see yet.
"He's right," Han says. She's shifted her stance again, balanced on the balls of her feet, ready to move. "If there are more of those things, standing here arguing is suicide."
"So what, we just trust him?" Kyle jerks his chin toward me. "Guy who can kill monsters with a thought?"
"I don't care if you trust me," I say, keeping my tone even. "But if another one of those appears, I'm the only person here who's proven I can kill it. So maybe save the interrogation for after we're not standing in the open like bait."
"Anyways, I got a notification after killing that thing. An item loot box. I'll open it and see what I get."
|| Open [Item Loot Box] ? ||
|| [yes] ||
A light appears, and a short spear, a short axe, and two flimsy looking short swords come tumbling town from the air onto the ground.
"Sophaulia, you take the spear, the rest of you can divvy the items as you see fit."
"Wait, what?" Kyle's voice cuts through before anyone can move. "You're just... giving us your loot?"
I look at him, then at the weapons scattered on the moss. The spear is simple but well-balanced, maybe five feet long with a leaf-shaped blade. The axe is crude, more like a hatchet. The short swords look mass-produced, functional but unremarkable.
"I don't need them," I say simply.
"Bullshit," Kyle says again, but there's less venom this time. More confusion. "You just killed a monster. That's your reward. Why would you just hand it over?"
"Because I can kill things without them," I reply. "And the rest of you can't. Basic survival logic."
Forbes adjusts his glasses, studying me. "That's... pragmatic."
"Or manipulative," Nocuous observes quietly. "Make us dependent. Make us owe you."
I meet his pale eyes. "If I wanted leverage, I'd keep the weapons and watch you struggle. This is efficiency, not strategy."
Harvey grunts. "Kid's got a point. We're all useless if we can't defend ourselves." He moves toward the weapons, kneeling to examine the axe. "These are real. Good steel. Better than improvised clubs."
"Sophaulia," I say again, looking at where she's still half-hidden behind the tree. "The spear. You have the reach advantage with it, and you're support-oriented. You need distance."
She hesitates, then slowly approaches. Her hands shake as she picks up the spear, testing its weight. "I... I don't know how to use this."
"You'll learn," Harvey says. "Pointy end goes in the enemy. Everything else is practice."
Forbes picks up one of the short swords, giving it an experimental swing. The balance seems to agree with him. "I'll take this one. My skills are close-combat focused anyway."
Han eyes the remaining short sword, then shakes her head. "I'm faster without a weapon. My skills are mobility-based. Give it to someone who needs it more."
For a moment I squint at that.
How exactly is she going to kill anything without a weapon?
All eyes turn to Kyle.
He stares at the remaining sword like it might bite him. "I've got my knife."
"Your knife won't do much against that thing's hide," Harvey points out. He's already claimed the axe, tucking it into his belt. "Take the sword, kid. Pride won't keep you alive."
Kyle's jaw works. I can see the internal battle: accept help from the group (from me specifically) or maintain his hostile independence.
Finally, he snatches the sword off the ground. "Fine. But I don't owe you anything."
"Noted," I say for the second time.
Hayden clears his throat nervously. "So... uh... should we, like, divvy up anything else? Do we have food? Water?" He's looking at his tote bag, then at everyone else's. "Nieshar gave us these bags, but I didn't check what's in mine yet."
That's actually a good point. I swing my own tote bag around and open it.
Inside: a canteen (full), what looks like dried rations wrapped in cloth, a thin blanket, a small knife (utility, not combat), and a coil of rope. Basic survival supplies.
"I've got food, and simple utilities, no water though."
"Same here," Forbes says, rifling through his. "Water, food, basic gear. Enough for maybe a few days if we're conservative."
"So we're not starting from zero," Harvey observes. "The System wants us to survive long enough to figure things out."
"Or long enough to be entertaining when we die." Nocuous has a dark expression as he says that.
"Okay," Forbes says, visibly pulling himself together. "Okay. Priorities. We need shelter, information, and a plan."
"We need to know what we can do," Han says. She's looking at her own hands, flexing her fingers. "Our skills. What they actually do in practice, not just what the names suggest."
"Agreed," Harvey says. "Can't strategize if we don't know our capabilities."
Forbes nods. "We test our skills. Figure out the basics. Then we decide on a direction." He pauses, looking at each of us in turn. "But we stay together. Splitting up right now would be stupid."
"Agreed," Han says immediately.
"Fine," Nocuous adds.
Hayden nods, still looking queasy but functional.
Sophaulia glances at me, then at Forbes, then back to me. "Okay."
All eyes turn to Kyle.
"Whatever," he mutters. "But I'm keeping my distance from him." He points the switchblade at me.
"Noted," I say dryly.
The tension doesn't fully dissipate, but it shifts. From confrontation to uneasy cooperation.
Forbes takes charge, which seems natural for him. "Let's spread out, just a bit. Give each other space to test things without accidentally hitting someone. Stay within visual range. If anything approaches, shout immediately."
We move. Not far, just enough to form a loose perimeter. I end up between Han and Sophaulia, which is fine. Han strikes me as competent, and Sophaulia is scared enough to be cautious, which makes her safer than someone overconfident.
I pull up my status window again, focusing on my active skills.
Manifestation, Level 1.
Twilight, Level 1.
Mana Manipulation, Level 13 now, after that kill.
Mana Manipulations obvious, but somehow, maybe now that it's a skill it feels more intuitive.
"Manifestation" and "Twilight" though are new to me.
I focus on Manifestation first, reaching for the skill the way you'd reach for a light switch in a dark room. There's resistance, then something gives, and I feel a pull in my chest.
A book appears before me. It's floating, which is probably the second weirdest part about it. The weirder part is that when I reach for it, my hands phase right through it. I attempt multiple times, probably looking like I'm trying to swat a pesky fly until I eventually give up.
I try to dismiss the skill, and the book just stays there, hovering.
Interesting. And utterly unhelpful.
Next, Twilight.
This one feels different when I activate it. I feel some type of physical manifestation, a faint, aurora aura envelopes my body.
Right as it does, the world... shifts. Colors deepen and tones blue. Shadows stretch and thicken. I can see better in the dim light filtering through the canopy, like someone just turned on dark mode for reality.
And I feel lighter. Faster, maybe? I take a step, then another. Movement comes easier, smoother.
And then I cough, blood spitting from my mouth.
|| Mana: 0/40. ||
Wha—huh? Those few seconds... took all of my mana?
Right as my mana bottoms I feel the skill deactivate and the world returns back to normal.
What was that? A combat skill? Or mobility? Both?
Sighing I look back at my status.
User: Lacrima — Lvl 1
—————
Title: N/A
—————
Rank: Recruit
—————
Floor: 1 — The Woodland Grotto
—————
Time Left Until Forced Return:
4y 364d 16h 30m 44s
—————
Class: (locked)
Subclass: (locked)
—————
Trait(s):
Grimoire-Body-Unity (Fate)
—————
Stats:
Constitution: 14
Dexterity: 22
Strength: 14
Mana: 0/40
—————
Active skills (3/12):
Manifestation - Lvl 1
Twilight - Lvl 1
Mana Manipulation - Lvl 13
—————
Passive skills (1/6):
Nonpareil Mana Gaze
—————
Prims: 10
—————
Stat Points Available:
8
—————
||
I got three stat points earlier so I have eight to distribute.
I think back to our "Guide's" words on distributing our stats evenly and I try to.
|| (Fate) Trait Grimoire-Body-Unity forbids Stat Points into Strength. ||
What? Why?
|| (Fate) Trait Grimoire-Body-Unity forbids Stat Points into Constitution. ||
Huh..?
|| (Fate) Trait Grimoire-Body-Unity forbids Stat Points into Dexterity. ||
You can't be serious.
|| (Fate) Trait Grimoire-Body-Unity doubles Stat Points into Mana — +2 Mana ||
Shit.
|| Stat Points Available: 7 ||
For a moment I almost don't want to believe it.
However, when I try again, desperately I read the same messages.
|| (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. ||
Then I look up, gazing at the two moons, for the second time in my life I feel the urge to cuss profusely.
What the fuck is up with this?