As Alex meditated on his fight with the bloodmist assassin, the Vitality of his body wasn't what he recalled most vividly. Yes, fighting with an injured body was a challenge; it required he push his body to its limits, but he'd done that before and would again. Likewise, it wasn't Strength he recalled either. His Strength had constantly been tested, but if strength decided the fight he wouldn't have lasted long. Was it Perception or Dexterity then? From the instant he perceived danger to the scathing margin of which he reacted by, they both constantly were working in perfect tune with one another. Arcane had also been a huge factor, as without the wildfire it would've been a rather short fight. But no, when he really put himself in the moment, none of these were where his mind lingered.

What Alex recalled most wasn't even the fight itself, but everything that led to it: The persistence it took to resist the Lost Souls for a straight-torturous week. That necessary resolve to keep his one foot in front of the other despite having no faith in where his path was heading. Without that drive he wouldn't have survived those first sleepless nights in Nightmare. Much less those ten years spent going through the motions in Dykriest; those had taken pure obstinance—bordering on denial, so as to allow him false-hope for one final gambit. Willful ignorance, even, to even get that far: To move on with life when people he cared for died, or when he'd done things he couldn't bear to live with; living in spite of that, struggling to survive when he hadn't a single good reason to… As long as I'm alive, something good might happen, he'd used to tell himself. Too many things, people, sacrifices, aligned to keep him breathing, I'm not allowed to end it here.

It took Fortitude.

Fortitude was the resolve that hushed the voice of rationale when most needed. Fortitude was the persistence that had led him to find The Fallen Feather of the Phoenix. Obstinacy and willful ignorance wouldn't get Alex where he needed anymore—they had ultimately led to his own death—but he'd been broken; they were the mental fortitude it took to keep his pieces intact until he was ready to look forward again.

Through Fortitude, he persevered, and eventually, something good did happen. Now, Alex had hope. And he'd found in the last he expected: himself.

Super-charged state has ended!

Essence has been integrated with Fortitude!

Fortitude +11

Essence has been integrated with Dexterity!

Dexterity +7

Essence has been integrated with Arcane!

Arcane +7

Essence has been integrated with Vitality!

Vitality +9

Essence has been integrated with Perception!

Perception +5

Essence has been integrated with Strength!

Strength +13

Alex watched the oceans of his inner-world from the cliffs on Thule, feeling like a new man. He supposed he literally was in a sense. His fate was changed. He'd been reborn, and that meant his very Essence-signature had been re-written. He could feel Essence responding to his will in the way natural-born mages could—those whose talent he'd been jealous of. But perhaps that might be par for the course as far as godlings went…?

Well, he still had to figure out what the hell was going on there, but that aside, gaining 52 stat-points from only 15 levels was already enough to feel incredible over. That put him at an average of 3.4 stats per level for this latest trial, which was just insane. Generally, the rule of thumb was: 1 stat point is what's expected, 1.5 to 2 is considered good, 2-2.5: great, 2.5-3: incredible, and anywhere from 3 to 3.5 was just astounding, almost unheard of growth. Getting above that simply wasn't sustainable over longer periods. Gaining 4 stat points from a single level was something that only happened under extreme circumstances, like those he'd experienced when he forged Nychta.

So yeah, he was doing alright.

The longer Alex stayed in his inner-world, the more he became convinced that not all mages had something like this either. His inner-world reflected the inner-state of his soul, and when that was good it became a space for his mind to escape to. Another perk of developing his core was that his ability to mindfully guide Essence to specific stats had improved a little. He'd been shooting up in Strength by the minute nearing the end of the battle, so he'd focused his meditation mostly on his other stats. A few points slipping through was inevitable, but he'd been mostly successful.

Overall, the Strength also made him feel fresh and new, but the downside was he could tell he had an imbalance of body-fat content. He'd be eating a lot more food from now on, so whether or not to find another supply-drop was no longer up for debate. However, he set that concern aside for the moment. Even if the Nightmare Architects threw another nasty surprise his way like they had with Eric's party, he was strong enough to settle most disputes peacefully. If he didn't get unlucky.

Status, he commanded, and the proof of his new strength was brought up before him.

Alex Smith Tier 1 - Level 49, Novice

Class: Stone-Dancer Bloodline: Forged in Fire Trait: One-Truth (Fate)

Health: 100% Mana: 19% Stamina: 83%

> Titles The First Spark, Forge-Father, Rising Phoenix

> Attributes Half-Dead Persistence, Blood-Sense

> Stats

Vitality: 21 Strength: 36 Dexterity: 29 Fortitude: 27 Perception: 24 Arcane: 23

He sighed in absolute contentment. This was a crazy spread of stats for someone only at the threshold to rank Adept. But he supposed that's what you get with a… with a three point… one… aw, fuck it.

Calculator, Alex commanded.

…Yeah, he supposed that's just what you get when you have a 3.12765957 stat per level average. No stat gets left behind, not even his Vitality.

It was a good thing too that his Arcane stat had risen before reaching threshold. He was still aiming for a Strength-Dexterity Warrior build, but enchantment had proven instrumental to his victory and he planned on continuing with that. Moreover, the Stone-Dancer class's skill-path hinted at the class having a strong correlation to enchantments. The class itself was already a dream come true, and it would surely evolve into something good regardless, but it might be that Stone-Dancer's best evolutions were only attainable though keeping such a high stat-per-level average.

Afterall, between the Strength and Dexterity necessary for fighting, and the Perception with a hint of Fortitude needed for smithing, trying to get enough Arcane for enchanting on top of all that would stretch most stat spreads too thin. Not his though, and he'd even gone overboard on the Fortitude side of things. That had been unintentional at first, but now he was doing it on purpose. He'd begun to view all those unavoidable stat gains in Fortitude early-on as a happy accident.

Everything involving willpower required Fortitude. In smithing, Fortitude was used primarily for shaping traits from cores, but if spirit-channeling was going to be something Alex did often then having a higher Fortitude stat became important. Lionheart's spirit had been human and a willing participant. If Alex were to channel the Chimik-Lordling's spirit into Nychta's Weapon-arts, he'd have to acclimate to the perspective of an alien creature and he'd expect a lot more push-back too. Igniting a soul into soul-flame was a send off in and of itself.

Joy, as Nychta put it. But Alex knew that many would see it as Sorrow and Unwanting, even if it was something that must be done.

Once he could tell she understood, Alex closed out his stat screen and unmuted his notifications. Maybe another day the sprawl of achievements and their silly descriptions might provide some levity, but his victory here had not come without cost, and the important ones held all too much gravity to treat lightly. This was only the start of something much, much bigger.

New Achievement: Assassin's Assassin

The assassin of the Misting Valleys has been given a taste of his own medicine. A fitting end for one who deals with death.

New Achievement: Soul Anchor

You have inherited the power, and the vengeance of the Lost Souls. Beware, for such power born of hatred, comes at a price.

Yes, Alex, I know.

Already, Alex's eyes were going wide. It only went to figure the System would notice him gaining levels from the Lost Souls' Essence, but how much did it know? More than him? Less? The Lost Souls' ritual was a success, so what did it even matter that it did? What was 'I' even in reference to?! The system was a system! Was this an admin? The Guardian?

He'd never gotten an achievement like that. What a headache.

New Achievement: Blood Feud

You've killed a high ranking Vampire of the Blood Lotus Clan. You will have a greater sense for the presence of Vampires around you.

+20,000 Essence Crystals

Attribute Gained: Blood-Sense

New Achievement: Even the Old Ones Fall

You've killed a creature that has lived for multiple lifetimes. Try not to make a habit of it.

+15,000 Essence Crystals

New Achievement: The Enemy of my Enemy

You've slain a high ranking vampire and created a blood feud. Yet you have done so alongside another vampire. Try not to let your alliances slip.

+5,000 Essence Crystals

New Achievement: The Secret's out!

You have placed in the top 100 of the System's yet-unreleased Rankings. Moreso, you have done so by permanently displacing another high-ranking talent in Nightmare

+20,000 Essence Crystals

New Achievement: Less is More

You've caused mass destruction with a single rune.

+25,000 Essence Crystals

New Achievement: Asshole

This achievement has been custom sanctioned by the system architects of nightmare for those specific individuals who have created a massive headache, typically through mass destruction. Good job, you asshole.

We're working overtime to fix your mess.

Okay, that one almost got a snort out of Alex. Then he processed what it really meant and all the humor in it disappeared. He opened his eyes and was back on the Path of Buried Ghosts, with Gloomy. There was fire even here. In fact, there were flames for as far as the eye could see, and it had already been over an hour since the bloodmist assassin died. That caused no problem for them—by Alex's command, the fire left them both alone—but if there were any others in the area…

A knot formed in his stomach.

Then he checked his killfeed. It was empty, but probably only because the fire had grown beyond his control. A simple look around made it obvious enough it hadn't been dealt with. Whereas, the last wildfire he'd started had gone out within the first hour. With how close they were to the city, the paths were starting to converge. These were extreme conditions for a wildfire but he'd thought for sure the Nightmare architects would be prepared for the eventuality, and he'd really hoped they'd be quick with whatever counter-measures they had. Alas…

Alex dismissed his interface. Massaging his temple, he leaned back against a burnt tree-stump. Only hours ago, he'd told Lionheart he'd make more mistakes, and cost more people's lives in the future… This wasn't one of them, a mistake that is. It was a decision, and a risk he'd accepted. He'd just hoped that he wouldn't be causing any major casualties for a few more weeks at least. No such luck.

He groaned. Gloomy lay twisting on the ground beside him, also groaning. She was looking much better than before, but from the way she tossed and turned it was obvious she was having a nightmare. Her eyes twitched beneath their lids, her head jerked side to side as though darting scared looks into the flickering flames.

If only to give himself some distraction, he decided to wake her.

Except, before he even could, he felt a powerful presence descend. He whirled around to find the Constellation perched atop the branch of a crooked, burnt willow—not as the black crow, but as the pure white-feathered raven.

"May it be our paths cross again, little bird," Corvus said.

And from the way her voice split Alex's head, he immediately knew her words couldn't be taken by their surface meaning. Their paths hadn't crossed. She wasn't here, before him, except by the string of fate where she may have been, and that was where they met. She was showing it to him, rather forcefully.

He groaned. If he looked again, he knew she probably wouldn't be there any longer. Yet despite his worsening headache, Alex didn't. Resisting that urge also required Fortitude, as all things with fate seemed to. That was the real reason he'd leapt at the excuse to get more.

"I knew you'd come but I didn't expect it to come like this," he gritted out with a scowl. Corvus didn't care for undue deference, and that was good. He couldn't be fucked to give any right now. "Couldn't you have just led me back to the shrine if you wanted to talk?"

"I know the pain is maddening, little bird," Corvus said. "What your eyes see, your mind cannot withstand. There are ways, yet I would not tread on to teach when there is one more suited to offer you guidance. Bear it, little bird. For I will not be long."

Corvus flapped her wings once and a feather drifted down. At first, the feather was white, one of hers, yet halfway to reaching the ground, it caught flame from the fire and turned vermillion red, ever burning. Somehow, in ways inexplicable, Alex could tell the feather was real when she herself was not.

It landed in front of him. Alex didn't reach down to grab it.

"Why must you spurn my gift?"

"The last time I picked your feather up off the floor, you had an assassin attack me!"

"An outcome borne of your own choices."

"Bullshit!" he snapped. "Your feather was the only reason I didn't fall to death in that ravine! Do you think I'm dumb? You wouldn't have given it to me if—aghh!"

Alex clutched his head as a sharp pain pulsed through it.

"Tell me, little bird. When the black crow appears in your path, do you expect a gift that finds no use?"

The pain lessened, leaving Alex gasping.

"...No. I don't expect good things from Constellations," he said. "No offense."

He reminded himself not to go as far as to insult the omnipotent god, even if she definitely had a hand in his assassination attempt. Corvus opened her beak and made a song-like chortle that might've been laughter. Or may have been a million other things.

"Alas, I do not appear as the black crow today. This feather is not mine, nor hers. I only deliver it, from the flames you created. Pick it up and you will see it belongs to you."

Tentatively, Alex did. He might be stupid for it, but he thought it was probably stupider not to. Black crow, white raven, whatever she was—if Corvus had wanted him plunging down that ravine, he couldn't imagine that spurning the gift that had saved him would've been the way to stop it. And when he picked up the burning feather, he realized she was telling the truth.

It was his. It carried his future.

Fallen Feather of the Phoenix

???

His trait gave him a vague sense of power, but when Alex tried to use examine, it failed. His head began pulsing to an unknown beat. A sharp crackle of pain snapped behind his eyes and he had to look away, up at Corvus, only to find she was shrouded in an other-worldly weave of aura. A small, almost imperceivable string led back to the feather in his hold, and now, it tethered to him.

"I might teach you one thing only, little bird," Corvus said. "When one is not defenseless to the tug and pull of fate, one might notice its rhythms and music all root in reality. Even gods must anchor the strings they strum, lest their weave unravel to the designs of others."

It took a second for Alex's mind to parse the metaphors. Once he did, he dropped the feather with a yelp, backing away from it. "Shit!"

Yet still, the "string" of fate, from Corvus, to him, remained tethered. Rooted. Because Alex knew he was not going to leave the feather there on the ground. He felt a pull, a… tug, as she'd put. He'd completed the Fallen Feather of the Phoenix technique, yet his path must continue, and he had no clue how. From the second he'd picked the feather up and sensed purpose to its power, his use for it became an eventuality.

And if he understood Corvus's words, that meant she'd been given an anchor for their fates to be bound. For her to move his strings. And she hadn't just one: The gauze. The black feather, now, this.

It changed nothing. He'd already known what picking it up meant, but it was unnerving to be able to see it. To see that the omnipotence of gods didn't function without its rules. Had this happened to him in his last life without him noticing? No, how many times had it happened? To him, or to others, to everyone… it could be as inconspicuous as a pebble left in one's path… or as conclusive as accepting patronage from a Constellation.

The only way to prevent dancing to the tune of another was to gain power, and to learn the rules himself. So Alex picked the feather back up and moved it to his inventory.

"What does this mean?" he asked.

"Only that I will be there to witness," she said.

She cocked her head. And the intent Alex felt was… chilling but strange. Corvus… wasn't an enemy, he realized, nor was she his friend. No, Corvus was something else. She could've been subtle, yet she'd shown him this. She was an omen, and omens weren't to be ignored. Black crow, white raven… he began to think the difference mattered significantly.

"You're playing both sides," Alex accused, facts clicking into place. "If I had died—either from Gloomy or by the assassin—a certain Constellation would've been quite pleased, right? It's Orion, isn't it? He's the one that tampered with the supply drops! He drove me mad from the soul-mists and then you appeared, leading me into that chaos! Agh!"

Alex winced—the pain wasn't from Corvus this time. It was from long exposure to the weave of fate. More sparks crackled behind his eyelids and shattered lines spread across his field of vision. But if Corvus hadn't punished him for his insult, it must've been because he was correct. Though that wasn't exactly how she phrased it…

"I am not the Constellation of certainties," Corvus said. "But if you are alive, then other lives are in flux. Your existence seeds uncertainties, little bird. Moreso, if you grow to have your wings unclipped. Beware, many right now find you an ill-omen."

"Yet you don't?" Alex questioned.

But he already found the answer in her words. Omens could only exist in times of uncertainty. Corvus was a bastion of order but a creature of chaos, who wove with fate but sought to see it unravel. She didn't desire, or yearn, it wasn't intention that brought Alex before her, it was simply her nature. She didn't play both sides, she played them all. All to play against them.

Corvus cawed, then shifted leg to leg. Was she… pleased? He was right, wasn't he?

"Orion is one such that I speak," she said, dodging the question. "Yet more awaken. Orion lends wind to your fire and ignites his own in those that get burnt. Many of my kind are too ancient to spy his trappings, for he spins them not in fate but by mortal design."

"Fuck."

"It does not spell a good omen," Corvus agreed.

Those cracks in Alex's vision spread as this string of fate began to shatter. He fell to his knees, groaning in pain. Of course it was Orion. Alex already knew the bastard's fingers reached deep within Nightmare's workings. He was the real headache for those architects, and now he was trying to put Alex on the Constellational shit-list by making his fire everyone's problem.

"Nor does it spell a bad omen," Corvus belatedly finished. "Farewell, little bird. May it be you grow not-so-little in time."

At the sound of her beating wings, Alex barely found the wherewithal to raise his head. He reached out, grasping onto this flickering vision. "Wait! What happened to my sister!"

"You needn't ask," Corvus told him.

The vision collapsed as soon as she took off. The world shattered. Their talk had never happened, and never would, yet Alex found he still remembered what transpired there. In typical Corvus fashion, she'd known his answer even before he did. And she was right.

There was no need to ask. Alex had already decided his truth.

* * *

The massive residual headache Corvus had left Alex with changed his tune on waking Gloomy from her nightmare. She needed as much rest as she could get and she awoke on her own anyway, around the time his headache began to fade.

She sniffed once, and said, "Corvus was here."

He frowned. "How did you—no, nevermind. Yeah. She showed up, said a lot of cryptic stuff and then left. Typical."

"Filthy crow," Gloomy spat.

Alex grunted. Out of the countless questions he hadn't found time to ask, Corvus's intentions for Gloomy were probably the most pressing. He got the sense he hadn't been outright set up so much as he'd been opportunistically roped into someone else's scheme. For all that it mattered.

He wasn't about to grill her first thing after she woke up though. And surprisingly, Gloomy wasn't all that much for questions right now either. They just kind of sat in silence for a while. The kind of silence where even finding a past-time was too tedious. Then eventually he put his fist out to the side.

It took her a second, but once she figured out to bump it, he didn't need to explain the gesture.

"We won," Alex said.

"We… did." She coughed up phlegm and spat to the side. "Why am I still alive?"

"You're asking me? You were the one who stayed in the fire—"

"I was hanging inside the ravine for most of it—but Alex, don't deflect. Just… please…"

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

Gloomy's heat transformed into a downcast glower. She had red eyes that she no longer bothered to hide; her canines were out in a self-deprecating sneer. Even looking at her like this…

"I'll admit, I struggled not to kill you back there," Alex said. "Even after you saved me, when I saw those chains… and then seeing you, it's like a mix of rage and pity welled up inside me. You have all the features of a vampire, and that power will eventually consume you. If I hadn't killed my lover she'd have probably turned out like you eventually, and I'm glad I killed her."

"Then why…"

Alex pressed his lips into a thin line. Then he reached over… and ruffled Gloomy's hair.

She went catatonic for a second. Then swiped at his hand in fury, scratching his wrist with her claw like a cat. Alex laughed, wondering himself what the hell he was doing.

"Well, you know. You're not a bad person, Gloomy. Maybe you think I'm weak for this, but it's not my place to kill you, either. Your hatred runs deeper than mine. If you can't bear it… then that's up to you. And I won't stop you. But who knows… maybe something good might happen as long as you're alive."

"Hah?!" Gloomy stood. "You're saying I'd kill myself?! Why would I do something like that? Stinking ox—like that would satiate my thirst! I swore an oath on my tainted blood, Alex! I swore I wouldn't rest until they all were dust and ash! You think I'd die after killing just one weak, stone-brained, worm-ridden rooster with no strut?!"

Alex shrugged. He split a slight grin to see Gloomy getting a little bit of her gumption back. She smile-scowled back at him, still a little half-heartedly.

"I have bigger game to hunt than you now," she said, looking away.

Alex thought that might be the closest to forgiveness he'd ever get.

He grunted. "Glad to hear it. Then what do you say we get to splitting this loot?"

He'd already rifled through the assassin's possessions, but he decided he'd hold nothing back from Gloomy. This victory belonged to her as much as it did him. As far as Alex could tell, there'd been no path where he made it through alone.

* * *

Well, before they even got to loot, there was one thing more important.

"You know, Gloomy," Alex said, "there's a trick to rock paper scissors. People think it's just a game of luck, but it's not. Or so I heard."

"Why'd you say it was a game of luck then?" she snapped.

"Well, it is if you don't know the trick, and I don't. Besides, it's not like we got any coins to toss."

"Why are we even doing this? You already admitted my hatred is greater than yours."

"Only by a hair. You ready?"

She huffed, and in a barely-contained rage, Gloomy threw down rock. Alex… was paper. He nodded, trying not to rub it in, then took the assassin away to have his head sawed off. With that done, he vanished his corpse, and began dumping the loot—

No, scratch that. Why not do this theatrically instead?

Greater Health Potion x13

Greater Mana Potion x9

Greater Stamina Potion x10

He brought out each bottle individually with majestic flourish. She'd frowned by the twelfth, grown puzzled by the twentieth, then punched his shoulder soon after telling him to stop screwing with her.

"Alright, alright."

In all fairness, they might've been there all day if he did the same for all the other items the assassin had in his inventory. There was… a lot, which shouldn't come as a surprise, but it surprised Alex anyway. They were only a couple weeks into Nightmare, and there was already this much? Well, unlike Gloomy, he'd had a couple hours to process that fact, and while she looked through the hoard he was now prioritizing which items held the most interest to him.

Bloodborne Executioner (uncommon)

A yatagan sword forged several centuries in the past and ritualistically bathed in blood.

Trait: Bloodborne

This weapon leaves gaping wounds.

Alex's interest in this item was purely academic. He'd thought it odd the bloodmists could enter his bloodstream so quickly, and now he knew why that was. And it was probably why the bloodmist assassin didn't bother switching it out for a different weapon. It wasn't the right tool for Alex though. He was pretty certain Nychta would be miffed if he switched her out for something with those origins.

There were some other traited weapons with less creepy powers: a pair of daggers that literally picked up wind the longer you fought with them, a saber with a prolonged charged-attack, and a three hundred pound longsword made with Tronde, a dense ore that didn't exist on earth. He was definitely going to melt down that last one, but Alex had never been all that excited by weapons he didn't forge himself, and that only rang truer now that he had Weapon Mastery.

Weapons aside though, there were two relics in the bunch and they both held his attention.

Or… there were three, actually. The assassin's throwing knives were really called "Ad-infiniteum throwing knives", and did exactly what you'd think they would. No, using rocks had always suited Alex just fine. So for relics, he instead examined both the ring and the rods.

Ring of the Divining Shadow (Relic)

The user of this relic may split their shadow off from their person to form a shadowling. Once done, they can sense things through their shadowling as they would be able to through their normal body. The shadowling cannot interact with matter.

Warning: This relic does not provide split-focus.

Seven-Pillar Defensive Formation (Relic)

A masterwork relic formation, anchored by seven formation nodes arrayed in a heptagonal radius. When fully deployed, a shimmering barrier is erected that shields everything within from both physical and magical assaults

Both of those were amazing relics, but Alex was more interested in the former and he knew Gloomy definitely needed the latter for her blood rituals. That seemed like an easy trade-off to make.

The saber and daggers were still interesting, but Relics aside, there was another reason the weapons didn't excite him too much. And that was simply because he had more than enough material to forge weapons more personally suited to his fighting style:

Swamp Siren Larynx

Contains residual enchantment.

Before that monster part caught Alex's eye, it caught his ear. It still had a low hum to it.

Veilspider Venom-Sac

Full of Veilspider Venom, useful for distilling more potent poisons.

A slight shiver had gone down Alex's spine when he first spied that, because it told a story of its own. The assassin had, well, been assassinating people—so many of his items weren't obtained personally—but this one was. The veilspider would've been too challenging for almost anyone else's skill-sets, and Alex suspected that the first thing the assassin planned to do when he reached the city was to find an undead alchemist to brew him something more lethal from that venom. Or at least something viscous enough to apply to his blade.

Alex moved on to one of the first items that caught his eye. And yeah, it was pretty eye-catching.

Scorchling Ember Eye

A Scorchling has no core, only an eye. Its eye retains its Fiery Aura.

The eye on its own was pretty cool, but what was even cooler about it was the container it came in. Scorchlings were non-corporeal, even undead ones. Their eyes weren't matter and couldn't be harvested under normal conditions.

Enchanted Bottle

A bottle capable of storing non-corporeal entities or substances.

Examine.

Examine cannot tell you more.

Go figure, this was rune-work and Alex had no idea what those runes even were. But he could tell they were a masterwork of a real, once-breathing earther and not just something the System just summoned from elsewhere. If he had to guess, the person who made this was the same person who'd slain the Ice Banshee whose core he was also eying, since that was an infamously difficult monster to beat for similarly incorporeal reasons.

In fact, there were a handful of monster parts and gadgets that had the same handiwork written all over them. There were also still a total of six bottles with the same enchantments on them that were empty, which was good since Alex had been hoping for a way to store soul fragments that didn't rely on Gloomy's dolls. He didn't know how much luck he'd have trying to deconstruct their design, but he'd try. Honestly, Alex really would have liked to question the guy who made them—assuming he'd have been willing—because whatever knowledge he had in the soul and enchantment departments were exactly what he needed right now.

Too bad he was dead. Or she.

It was a pattern Alex was starting to notice. The assassin's couple dozen skull marks were relatively few for a treacherous vampire but he had a hell of a lot of cores that couldn't have been easily obtained. Putting aside his Veilspider and the other guy's Ice Banshee, Alex was also ogling the Treeant and Wyrmshade cores, and countless others he could surely find use for. Notably, more than a few of those the assassin killed probably stood a chance of becoming Nightmares, based on the kind of monsters he was seeing.

And if the assassin hadn't died here, the number of his victims would've been much higher. That was how it went down, after all; while everyone else was too occupied with fighting each other or Nightmare itself, Anne had her favorite assassin strike them down one by one. Alex knew from experience that being good in a fight was completely different from being good at surviving an unexpected one. The assassin played a key part in the Blood Lotus Clan's grab for power over Misting valleys, and killing him had always been one of Alex's goals to prevent that. He'd just never expected it to come about this early, or to go down like it did.

Now, he was happy they'd been attacked. Loot aside, the sheer amount of it only emphasized the impact killing him this early might've had. There was no elegant way to say this, really: the bastard was a fucking pinata. From Cores, to weapons, to quests, and even personal effects—there were so many high-tier items that Alex could be there literally all day disputing with Gloomy over who gets what.

Yet, even though there wasn't anywhere else to go that wasn't burning, neither of them were in the mood for that. Gloomy had collected an assortment of items from the pile that she thought suited her, and it was much more modest than he'd come to expect. He was shocked he'd even have to offer her the Defensive Formation. He'd thought she'd grab at it immediately.

He picked it up and placed it down in front of her.

"What has you so shy today?" he asked.

Gloomy scowled.

"You pulled your weight," he told her. "Did exactly what you said you would."

Her scowl deepened. But then it lightened to a mere frown as she took the Defensive formation… and the Ring of Divining Shadow. Alex dragged his hand over his face, sighing. Maybe he'd given her too strong a pep-talk.

Then he heard a metallic clatter and the ring was on the ground in front of him.

"I know that. You didn't have to tell me," Gloomy said. "Take it. You did what you said too. You killed him."

Alex grunted, slipping the ring onto his finger. "Well… I guess that's true. Couldn't have done it without you though, so we'll do this fair. The potions are a pretty easy split. Half and half each?"

"I'm not as fragile as you. Take more health potions."

"Alright. Then I'll give you the larger half of the mana potions."

Gloomy assented. "And these?"

She held up four books. Alex squinted. Then he grew more and more disconcerted once he'd read out their titles.

Compendium of Valley Herbs and Mystical Plants

A History of Avalonian Witch-Craft

The Art of Identifying Undead Plants and Ingredients

This grimoire cannot be read by those other than its owner.

???

"Uh… none of those were in the pile last I checked."

"Of course they weren't," Gloomy murmured. "Filthy crow."

She'd already vanished the grimoire to her inventory, and a slight chill receded from Alex's spine. Now she lightly brushed the velveted covers of the other three with her finger tips. Her head was hung low, but when Alex peered underneath he was surprised to see a joyful, albeit, melancholic expression on her face.

"Hey, I didn't know you could smile like that," he said.

He'd meant it as some gentle ribbing. He hadn't expected Gloomy to start tearing up from his words. She sniffled and turned her head. "Go away! I hate this… ahh…"

"Ahh…" Alex started to get up, "Sorry, I'll—"

"Don't!" she shouted. "Who cares if I'm crying?! I'm not some daft little girl who needs special treatment!"

"Didn't… think you were," he muttered, sitting himself back down.

"I know I'm not making sense!"

"Hey, everybody cries. I cry someti—"

"Aghh!! Shut up!"

Alex held up his hands placatingly. Then he simply waited patiently for her to collect herself. Eventually, she did, and he saw her leafing through the pages of her new books with that smile again. It made him relieved in a way difficult to explain. Gloomy could be somewhat of a crazed mess at times, and that was even more true now that she'd become a full-blooded vampire, but the fact that she could still smile like that after what she'd gone through touched his heart in an odd way. It really was relieving. Felt like he himself had no excuse for why he shouldn't.

"What are you smiling at," Gloomy said.

"You."

"Eugh, creep."

"Yeah, I bet I'm creepier than ever now that I've come back to life," he dropped with no warning.

Gloomy stopped leafing through her book. And stared. "What? So that is what happened. My God… may the devil take your soul, I prayed. He took it—and you just took it back?!"

"Devil didn't have the chance, I reckon," Alex said smugly. "But no, for the record, I didn't know that would happen. I just happen to have a peculiar refinement method and it reached it's completion upon my death.. and I also have a core that's more powerful than most mortals should have."

Now Gloomy was slowly closing her book. Her expression grew from perplexed to concerned. "Why are you telling me this, Alex? What if I—"

"If I saw you talking to someone else for more than a minute I'd be more delighted that you made a friend than scared that you'd spill my secrets."

"Fuck your mother!"

"Yeah, fuck her," he agreed, "She walked out on me and my sis when I was young. Hope she received those curses you were sending."

Gloomy stared, dumbfounded again. Alex just laughed to himself, leaning back and looking at the smoggy sky. The world was burning to hell and he felt a little better than ever. Like a weight had been lifted. People were burning but he could let the guilt hit him another time.

"I don't get this," Gloomy said. "Why? Really, why? Are you still after my quest? Are you trying to learn my—"

"No, I can tell you it's none of that. Look, even if it was just briefly, I died Gloomy. Now I want to live my life differently, bit by bit. I know I told you earlier I'd be an open book, and that's not true. I've still got things I can't say, but I don't have reasons to hide the things I just said. Not from my ally."

"Me?! I'm not your—"

"Yes you are," Alex said. With a grunt, he pulled himself back up to face her. "You don't have to accept me as yours, Gloomy, but I am. It's like I said down in the ravine. We don't have to trust each other as people, but just, think about it: What are you going to do from here?"

Gloomy spat. "Kill vampires."

"And what am I going to do?"

"I'm not signing another contract."

"Who needs another contract?" Alex spat to the side as well. "I certainly don't wanna suffer that again. But we make a good team, Gloomy. If you hadn't covered for me, I would've died and not come back. Yet here we are, and we both want to see the Blood Lotus clan burn to the fucking ground. Why not do it together?"

"Aren't you the smooth-talker…" She muttered.

"Yeah, I know this is what I said the last time. What I did was deplorable, and now I understand exactly what that contract meant to—"

"Don't. Say. You understand!" Gloomy snarled.

Alex froze up as her red eyes sharpened and his danger sense spiked. Overall, he'd learned to tell the difference between when Gloomy actually had murderous intent and when she very, very much wished to see him in agonizing pain. It put him on edge regardless… but this was the second.

"Okay," he agreed. "I won't."

Gloomy growled at his words, grumbling to herself, then said, "…Fine… sell me on it, you devil."

"Hm? I just told you I'm not going to—"

"And I'm telling you now, to do it!" she yelled again. "Curse it to be damned! I know how strong you are! And I know I'm just… not… argh! I want to smash Anne's head into rot! I wanted to do it on my own! She's mine—but…" she bit into her lip. "…Sell me on it."

Alex took a breath. "Let's face it. You need me, Gloomy."

Her features twisted in self-directed fury.

"But I'm going to make you strong enough that you won't. You haven't even integrated your core with the System and yet you're already this strong. I have knowledge that can make you stronger. We'll go and do what we were always going to do on our own anyways. Slaughter vampires."

She took slow, heavy breaths, chewing her lip. Then made a low deranged chuckle, splitting a bloody grin despite herself. "As long as we're on the same page, you stinking ox. Fine. I'll help you out."

Well, that wasn't exactly how Alex had put it, but… like hell he was going to point that out.

She took a moment to collect herself, staring off into the fire. "How did you know I haven't integrated with the System anyway?"

"If you did, those books would've appeared redacted. The System imposes certain levels of censorship regarding information from this world."

Gloomy blew air out her nose. Alex shrugged. "Now, the way I see it, we could split the rest of the loot fifty-fifty if you want. But I can honestly do more with these cores and monster parts than any of the blacksmiths at the city could. It's up to you, but—"

"Whatever!" she waved away. "Don't twist your tongue in a knot—you had me at killing those death-rotten blood-sacks! I have insurance for if you betray me anyway, so don't make me use it."

She held up the doll of him, waving it back and forward with a venomous, teasing smile.

Alex face-palmed. "Any chance I can get you to throw that away?"

"Not a-one. You think I didn't notice you taking another of my dolls while I was out? How many are you going to take from me? You like my carving that much?"

"Ah, right…" Gloomy was talking about the doll she'd made of the Bloodmist Assassin. He'd found it on her person earlier, and now he fished it out from his inventory. "This is another recent development, Gloomy. I can channel the abilities of the souls I reap into Nychta. I'm sorry to impose, but I'd appreciate if you kept letting me borrow—"

"Okay. Fine, just ask next time. And if I need access to material for rituals, let me have what I need. I haven't gotten far into my book since someone keeps pestering me, but this— aaahh!"

Gloomy yelped as an ember floated too close to her open book.

"Sorry," Alex hurried out, "Let me push the fire back a little farther."

He held his hand and commanded the flames back for another ten meters around them.

Gloomy scowled. "Any other recent developments I should know about?"

Okay, Alex was starting to understand where she was coming from about this whole 'creepy' thing. "Yeah… a few, but we can get more into that later. I don't think anyone's going to attack us through these flames, but it's not smart to keep all this loot lying around regardless. Here, take these as well."

He picked up three flat objects and tossed them to Gloomy.

Skill Instruction Slats

Creates an instruction guide to aid in learning a skill. The user must meet all known skill requirements. The user must already have the skill affixed, or own a copy in their Personal Library. Instruction Slates will break after one use.

As if he needed more proof that the assassin had killed some real contenders, Alex had also found some of the same bonus rewards he'd received from over-performing in the Second Scenario. He'd even found another bottle of aspect pure-aura.

"Now… that just leaves us with the quests. Unsurprisingly, the assassin also collected enough paths to access the Hidden Scenario. I have no interest in that myself, Gloomy, but I have a… hunch, you could say, that might help you if you choose to take part in it. Aside from that, he also had a load of other quests. Let's see here…" Alex was scrolling through the ones that had transferred over when the assassin died. "There's a few advanced quests that might be worth it… the one that caught my eye is a solo-quest involving an enchanted Golem Construct, but the others…"

"Alex."

"Yeah?" he closed out his interface. "Sorry, I was rambling a littl—"

"Alex, I don't trust you," Gloomy said tersely. She had her knees up and bound beneath her arms, staring directly at him.

"Ye-yeah… I know?"

"And I'll sure be damned before I forgive you!" she continued. "But this all started cause you were after my quest, right? Did you mean it? You're really willing to see it through to the end? Your revenge…"

Alex frowned. Gloomy was being uncharacteristically grave. But he'd meant it. "Yes. And your quest will help with that immensely, Gloomy. That's why you took it in the first place, isn't it?"

She nodded. "I don't know what will happen if I try to add another person… Will it even work?"

Alex nodded. "Of course it will."

He hadn't gone into the Crucible of Sun alone, after all.

Gloomy seemed strangely conflicted. Then with a bit reticense, she sent Alex an invite to her—

"Uh—" Alex looked at what appeared on his screen and froze. "Gloomy… what the fuck is this?"

"It's… the quest. What else would it be?"

The quest…?

"No… n-no, uh, this… isn't the Cruscible of Sun…"

"The Cruscible of—hahh?!" Gloomy stood up. "You meant that quest?! All this trouble was over that?! Why didn't you just ask for it then?!"

Why didn't I… just ask?

"What the—why would you even take it if you didn't care? You're literally a—wasn't it to get revenge on the vampires?! There were dozens of other quests up there!"

Alex had almost slipped up and called her vampire. Gloomy cocked her head, with an expression that suddenly made him feel very uncertain.

"…No there weren't? The attendant said there was only one."

Alex slow-blinked.

He couldn't process that, and it didn't even matter right now. His entire brain was preoccupied with breaking as he kept reading and re-reading the text that appeared on his screen, trying to make it make sense.

You have been invited to Co-party with ERROR in the following Quest:

Death of the Deathless

A race known only to Earth as "Vampires" defy my will and the natural order of Life and Death. I task you with stealing away the shard of the Bloodstone kept by the Blood Lotus Clan. The shard contains a fragment of the ichor of the founding vampire, Absolum. His power is the source of this scourge, and with his death, natural order will be restored to these blighted beings.

Deliver unto me the first shard and I will grant you my favor

I will cure you of your status as a "thrall"

Quest Issuer:

Thanatos, the God of Death.

* * *

The last thing on Alex's bingo card for the day—after killing the Bloodmist Assassin, dying, resurrecting, and solving riddles with Corvus—was to be pulled into the presence of yet another God: Thanatos, the God of Death. Because as soon as he'd finished reading the quest, that was what had happened. Alex felt the strings of fate tug in the opposite direction that time appeared before him—in his realm. And the very, very last thing he'd expected after everything he saw… was to actually accept the quest. Even after what he'd learned about fate from Corvus, and even after sensing for himself the volatility such an invitation could open him up to.

Yet, just this once, Alex had found reason in the words of a God. Or rather, he'd found there was no choice otherwise. It all lined up too perfectly what took place in those final years. And though there was doubtless deception at play, there was also truth to Thanatos's words. One Truth told him so with certainty.

It had also left him with another splitting headache, worse than the first one. He was displeased to find it still hadn't faded, despite where he was. There was no instant healing for the soul, he supposed. Alex had just arrived at the only place that could top off this roller coaster of a day: The Sanctum.

"Ah, Mr. Smith, you don't look to be doing all too well. You seem… pained. As though, any moment now, you could keel over and die."

"Thanks," Alex muttered. "Cryptic as usual."

The avatar of the System Guardian smiled its plastic smile, tightened its tie, and flourished a semi-professional bow.

"Here to select your rank-up Trial, I take it?"

Alex looked past the Guardian, at the gates he guarded. Space held no measure in the sanctum, yet somehow he knew that if he were to try to make a break for it, he would not reach the gates. No matter how many steps he took.

The Guardian followed his gaze. "Ah yes, many have tried. Those that do find that there is a reason I am called the Guardian of the System's Gates and not their Bystander. But… you already knew that."

Alex's eye twitched.

"Just come out and say it already," he snapped. "You know. Everything."

"I know…?"

"That was you who sent that message, wasn't it?"

"I only guard its gates, I am not the System itself. Ah, however, yes, it can be a lonesome undertaking and the System does take pity. I would not say it tells me everything though."

Alex massaged his temple. He knew full well the Guardian didn't only guard the gates, but the memory of that reminded him to hold his tongue. If it didn't want to tell him anything, what could he do to change that?"

"Apologies," he said. "I'm just tired of being tugged in so many directions."

"Alas, that's inevitably what happens when one accidentally finds themselves in the center of the Universe."

The Guardian smiled, and spread his hands in gesture to the spread of stars and galaxies arraying the sky of the room above them. Alex took a half step back, but there was no back, no motion.

"…So you do—"

"Of course," The Guardian said. "What System would not know when it has been reset?"

Alex's breath caught. He'd suspected it, but… "Who else knows?"

"Very few. And many fewer who would meddle. Now, there might come a time, Mr. Smith, when such things are relevant to you. But until that time these are the System's considerations to make, and I would not concern myself over them. Not with so much already on your plate. Now, choose."

Congratulations on reaching the Threshold to Rank Adept!

Here are the Trials you may choose to undertake:

[Trial by Soul]

You have forged a Named Weapon and poured your soul into your craft.

To complete this trial you must forge a Soul-Weapon from the Soul of another, and it must be a weapon retaining its True Name.

[Trial by Arcane]

You have forged a Named Weapon and furthered your understanding of the mechanisms that command the flow of power.

To complete this trial you must now Enchant a Named Weapon to a caliber that exceeds the limits of its potential.

[Trial by Fire]

You have forged a Named Weapon and become Adept in the art of its wielding.

To complete this trial you must attain true Mastery with your weapon, and reach the rank of Master. With your blade you must hone your Weapon-Arts and develop an Ultimate Technique.

Warning: The Trials you select will have bearing on the development of your class.

You may not breach the Third Gate until your trials are complete.

Alex's mind was still reeling as trials appeared on his interface. But… he took this for the dismissal it was. The Guardian was done with talking, and this was what he'd been summoned for. Now his future was laid out before him. He had to choose.

His gut instinct drew his gaze to Trial of Fire. He'd grown used to fighting with Nychta, and he wanted to walk this path alongside her. Smithing was his first love but fighting was what he knew best, and there'd be a lot more fighting in his future now. Together, they could be strong.

But they'd together regardless, and his intellect was drawn to Trial by Arcane. Enchanting was like a puzzle. And for all he loved puzzles, he left too many of them half finished. He didn't want this to be another.

Nor did he want to forsake the third trial. Trial by Soul. For some reason, he thought back to what his Master had said: To always put your soul into your craft. It was something Alex was uncannily adept at, and that made him recall everything else his Master had said. He'd hinted there was more to Alex's bloodline than met the eye, and he'd offered to tell him… if only he'd had the heart to take him up on that. Soul-magic was dangerous, and despite the bluff he'd made to Luan, Alex really had no clue what a True Name was. This option wasn't the best choice, but it had captured his curiosity.

The Guardian let out a whistle. "Well that's a tough choice if I've ever seen one. And I've seen many. Really, you should consider yourself lucky."

"Lucky?" Alex echoed.

"Why, of course. You don't have to choose."

"What do y—no…" Alex muttered. "No way…"

He paused, re-reading the warning. It was like all the others he'd ever gotten… except for one key difference his mind glazed completely over. It didn't say to select a 'Trial'. It said he could select: 'Trials'… plural.

"Ahh… If only you weren't in Nightmare, then maybe such a thing wouldn't be complete suicide. Perhaps you're unlucky then. Or mayhaps, your luck cancels out. If you weren't in Nightmare you'd never have met the stat requirements to become eligible for multiple Trials. Nor attained a foundation capable of sustaining them… Ahh… what to do… what to do…"

The Guardian walked paces around Alex, voicing his thoughts with uncanny precision. He'd already set himself on the path of war, there was no time to take things slow and easy. And yet…

"Mr. Smith is a man who does the impossible… I suppose. Would I be correct in assuming such intentions?"

Alex's finger hovered over his selection. More than any other lesson he'd learned today, the one that stuck was that no meager amount of power would be enough. He wasn't invincible. He didn't do the impossible. Impossible things happened to him, but he only did what he could concieve… and he could do this. He would.

"What happens if I fail," he still found himself asking.

"For better or for worse, the Universe moves on."

"I won't then," Alex said.

The following Trials have been selected:

[Trial by Soul]

[Trial by Arcane]

[Trial by Fire]

He fixed The avatar's smile with his gaze. It stretched farther than ever as blinding light suffused the sanctum around Alex.

"Good," the Guardian said. "It… hopes to see you back here."

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