《Terra Mythica: A LitRPG Adventure》 Chapter One: Darkness of a Different Kind (Prologue Part One) Chapter One: Darkness of a Different Kind (Prologue, Part One)
Darkness fell. It wasn¡¯t the usual darkness that came with the end of day, carrying a hint of warmth, however faint. Nor was it the darkness of midnight, wrapped in silent peace, disturbed only by the occasional rustle of leaves in the cold wind. It wasn¡¯t the comforting darkness found moments before sleep, safe and warm in your bed, for that darkness holds the promise of a new day and new light. No, this was a void, an emptiness found only in lost places and forgotten times. Heavy and oppressive, it seeped into the soul, turning every heartbeat into a thunderous echo. And this darkness belonged to one man.
Henry stood silent and still on the plush grass encircling Castle Roandair, the fortress looming like a shadow against the dark veil he summoned to shroud the kingdom. The chill of the coming siege crept into his bones, but his thoughts wandered to a time when his hands knew the smooth stroke of quills instead of the cold weight of swords, when his nights were bathed in the flickering glow of candlelight and not the blood drawn from hate and torment.
Osira had often been beside him then, her laughter a faint melody now swallowed by that same void. The memory of her smile tugged at his heart, drawing him deeper into the past¡ªto the day they first met, to the life they shared before... all of this. But the present surged back into focus, a cold wind cutting through his reverie. His eyes, once filled with the dreams of knowledge, now held the darkness that flickered around his body, the twilight cloak licking at the air as he concentrated on the siege ahead. The time for reflection was over¡ªnow, only war remained. His army waited in silence behind him, tension rising off of them like heatwaves in the cold air, a lull before the coming storm. He felt the answering fear as it poured forth from the battlements before him. Were they afraid of the battle to come, or of him? Was this truly what he had become? He pushed the thought from his mind. There was no room for it now. He had to focus. Torches lined the stone walls of the castle and fought to shine through the inky waves of eldritch power. Occasionally, a piece of light would find its way to cast the faintest glint upon the Roandian soldiers¡¯ armor.
Inside the castle, hidden in a secret chamber within the king¡¯s quarters, lay the beautiful Osira. Her thick black hair splayed out across a makeshift cot as her entire body sweat in exhaustion. The chambermaids that attended her had never delivered a baby before. Though in a few moments, that would change. This fact was not what was troubling Osira. She clung tightly to the emerald crystal that hung from her neck and tried to focus through the pain. The crystal glowed gently through the gaps in her fingers. Her tears were not from the pain or coursing adrenalin. Nor were they for her own life. These concerns were pushed far from her mind by the single, dominating demand she made. ¡°Protect my children.¡± The crystal hummed in understanding. In the corner of the room, a small dust of light that called itself Pik chimed anxiously. ¡°I know, but what can we do about it? We can''t take on the whole cursed army ourselves,¡± Bertrude complained, his voice a blend of frustration and helplessness as he cleaned his unusually large, pointed ears with a silver letter opener he had ¡°found.¡± His stout half-goblin frame was taut with tension, every muscle coiled as if ready to spring. The dim light caught on his mottled greenish-brown skin, highlighting its rough texture. Unruly chestnut hair tumbled into his sharp, angular face, partially obscuring the vivid emerald of his eyes, which glinted with a fierce, watchful intensity. Pik chimed sharply. ¡°Alright, alright, no need to get nasty,¡± Bertrude sighed. ¡°I don¡¯t want to leave her either. But we have our orders.¡± Pik¡¯s green glow dimmed slightly as he let out a low whizz. ¡°I know, old friend. I don¡¯t like it either. But the children must survive.¡±
When midnight found them, the air was damp and thick. If not for the cursed darkness filling the sky, the moonlight might have struggled past the impending storm clouds and cast a solemn light across the two armies. But, it did not. ¡°Steady!¡± The king, resplendent in Roandian blue steel, paced the battlements. He barked orders and profanities to the Masters of War. The Master of Archers repeated his orders, shouting his own curses and critiques at his men, adjusting their armor and their aim. Memories of his younger days as a simple farmer, before the war changed him, flickered in his mind. The Master of Swords followed suit, slamming his gauntlets on the back of a slightly slouched swordsman, nearly knocking him to the floor. He remembered his own training, the harsh discipline that had shaped him into the warrior he was today. The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. The soldier did not cry out, but saluted as he rejoined the ranks. This was a familiar thing, the only comfort they had, and the familiarity of it helped the soldiers stand their guard. The king strode across the ramparts with more confidence than he felt, each step a battle against the gnawing fear in his gut. ¡°If you move before I command, the creatures below will be the least of your worries!¡± His voice echoed in the night. He stared down at the darkness below, trying to pierce it with his mind. He did not see Henry so much as he felt his presence. And with that, Henry felt him. The blade of the king¡¯s sword glowed faintly as the crystal embedded in the hilt hummed. ¡°We could spare these men,¡± the king whispered into the night. ¡°And spare the fun?¡± A silent whisper came back. Suddenly the clouds were ripped by a blinding flash of light and the dull pound of thunder. Streaks of white tore at the sky and then vanished, consumed by the dark curse above. Thunder rolled like stone giants in the distance and rain crashed down upon both men and undead alike. The minions of darkness began to march, and the earth trembled beneath their iron-clad feet. Their march quickened to a trot and then surged into a full run. The ground pounded in unison with the hearts of the defending soldiers. Arms trembled, not only from fear or exhaustion, but from the quaking earth beneath them. They had stood there, poised and ready, since the first whispers of night crept across the horizon. The once vibrant energy of anticipation had long faded, replaced by a bone-deep weariness and the relentless grip of dread. ¡°Steady, damn you! Steady!¡± An infinity passed in a moment. ¡°Fire!¡± Arrows mixed with the night¡¯s sky and found their marks along the ground. Blood of all shades spat across the grass from the injured creatures. Cries of pain turned to vicious howls as the army of terror surged forward faster. ¡°Lightning Acid, ready!¡± His orders were repeated in shouts across the length of the crenelated walls. Men with glass vats of glowing liquid moved gingerly to the edge, careful not to spill a drop. ¡°Release!¡± As the undead creatures reached the base of the castle and began to claw, the glowing green death poured over their heads. Shrieking hisses filled the night air as the alchemical solution quickly ate through the nearest invading forces. Clouds of arrows filled the sky and fell with the rain upon the encroaching undead. The undead creatures wore little protection from arrows and appeared to hold no regard for their own wellbeing. As they fell, more climbed over their still bodies and fought through the falling acid and steel. Not a single answer of arrows came in return, only the vicious howling of undead beasts and gnashing of teeth. Minutes became hours became lifetimes. Horns blared out from across the undead army, and more creatures surged forward, an unending torrent clawing their way past their fallen brethren. They piled up the wall and a few of the foul creatures made it to the parapets. Lightning flashed again and seared the sky for a moment before being eaten once more by darkness. The men upon the battlements poured down vat after vat of alchemical acid, followed by enormous stone boulders, crushing the undead creatures below and causing them to collapse upon themselves - all in a vain attempt to stem the tide. The battlefield seemed to pulse and surge in sync with Henry''s own heart. He allowed the darkness to lift for a moment, granting the candles and moonlight a breath of freedom. In that moment, the horde of creatures became clearly visible to the Roandians, the horrific sight piercing them to their core. When ropes and claws failed to get his undead successfully over the battlements, a new approach had to be used. Henry admired his handiwork as his army surged past him and battered themselves against the castle walls. Grotesque half-faces, patchwork figures, amalgamations of bone and steel¡­ the sight was more horrifying than death itself. Henry felt the waves of fear roil off the castle and smiled a bitter, wicked smile. He welcomed the fear, drawing it in with each slow breath as it seeped into his core, intertwining with his aether like a dark current, quietly fueling his power. ¡°Goodbye,¡± he sent a thought to the king. He reached into his cloak and grabbed the black crystal that hung from his neck. Holding it to the night sky, he cried out. All the pain and hate that filled him flooded the crystal and it lit with a black void of energy that enveloped all that touched it. Lightning crackled in the sky. It struck the ground not fifty paces from him. Then it struck again before cascading in a searing line through his soldiers, ripping skeletal figures in half. Sacrifices must be made, he thought, and urged the ripples of lightning towards the castle. When it met the castle walls, not even the king himself could hold it back. The wall beneath the king staved in like brittle clay beneath a mallet and he was swallowed by an avalanche of stone and steel. The undead army poured in. Henry pulled out his User Interface stone, a rough, silver device barely larger than his palm. Its edges were jagged and the mismatched pieces of metal hinted at its hasty assembly. The runes carved into its surface flickered weakly, some already fading. He took a deep breath and activated the stone. Instantly, his HUD flickered to life, but it was far from functional. The screen shook violently, and the usual clear text was replaced by garbled symbols and fragmented words.
S??????????????????????y????????????????????-???????????#????????????????????t???????????????????e??????????????????????m??????????????????????????? ?????????????S????????????????t?????????????????@?????????t?????u???????????????????????????s????????????????:???????????????? ???????????????????????"??????????????????E?????????????????r???????????????????r??????????????????#??????????????????*?????????????????????.????????????? ???????????I?????????n???????????????????????????t???????e?????????????????????????????r??????????????????g?????????????????????r???????????????a??????????????????????????t???????????????????i??????????????????o??????n??????????????????? ?????F??????????????????????a?????????????????????i???????????????????l???????u??????????????????????????r???????????????e????????????????????????????
Henry squinted, trying to decipher the jumbled messages. It felt as if the universe itself resisted the integration, the world pushing back. He tried to navigate through the chaotic interface, but each tap only resulted in more distortion. His health, aether pool, and quest log was lost in a sea of glitches. He sighed and closed the HUD with a frustrated swipe. "Great," he muttered. "Just what I needed." I¡¯ll have to let the support team know about this, he thought, pocketing the stone. For now, there were more pressing matters. Chapter Two: Cries of a Different Sort (Prologue, Part Two) Chapter Two: Cries of a Different Sort (Prologue Two)
Cries of a different sort came from the hidden chamber where Osira lay. ¡°He¡¯s beautiful,¡± a chambermaid said softly, placing the first child in Osira¡¯s trembling arms. Osira smiled weakly, tears of joy mingling with the sweat on her face, but her relief was short-lived as another wave of pain seized her. ¡°The other one is coming,¡± the chambermaid said, her hands moving swiftly. ¡°Keep pushing, my lady. One more to go.¡± Exhausted, Osira summoned the strength to bear down once more, the room filled with tense anticipation, punctuated by the cries of the firstborn. Finally, a second, stronger cry echoed through the chamber as the twin was born. The midwife quickly cleaned and wrapped the baby, placing him gently beside his brother in Osira¡¯s arms. Pik wisped anxiously. ¡°Praise Eileithyia,¡± the maid whispered. ¡°I¡¯m not crying. Just got something in my eye,¡± Bertrude protested, rubbing furiously at his face with a sodden sleeve. The motion only acted to smear dirt across his eyes and cheeks. The roar of undead crept closer. Osira soothed the babies, whispering, ¡°Hello, Alexander. Hello, Greyson,¡± her voice trembling with a mixture of relief and resolve. She took a moment to embrace them, inhaling their scent, feeling the gentle rise and fall of their breaths. Some moments last longer than others, and she willed this one to stretch as long as the gods would allow. In that fleeting eternity, she held them forever, feeling the rapid beats of their tiny hearts against her chest. Alexander, with strikingly bright gray eyes, stared up at her with a calm, curious gaze, his tiny hand reaching out to clutch her finger with surprising strength. Greyson, with darker, stormy gray eyes, squirmed restlessly, his small cries louder and more demanding. There was no sadness to be felt, only a deep and unending love. She marveled at their differences, the quiet strength of the first and the fiery spirit of the second. Tears slipped down her cheeks, but she smiled, savoring the warmth of their tiny bodies and the soft cooing and cries they made. But like all moments, this one too had to end. ¡°Fetch Harkenwell from the hall.¡± Her words were certain and martial. A chambermaid darted from view and returned moments later with the king¡¯s guardsman, a tall, tanned figure. Though Hark and Osira were roughly the same age, his scars and ivory hair made him seem older, his youth stolen by years of war and strained magic. ¡°It¡¯s time, Hark. We need to move fast now.¡± She whispered an enchantment, and the babies fell asleep. He nodded and drew a pouch from his leather satchel. ¡°Are you sure we can trust these two?¡± He asked Osira, nodding towards Bertrude and Pik. If they felt offended, they said nothing. The scrape of claws and howls of hate continued to grow nearer. ¡°I trust Bertie and Pik with my life,¡± she said. Bertrude flushed at the pet name. This seemed enough for Hark. He knelt beside Bertrude and handed him the pouch, pausing before letting go. ¡°Use this when you are outside of the kingdom and beyond the Trackers. The boys must survive. If either dies, so do you.¡± The last statement was not a threat, but a warning. If they died, so would they all. Hark allowed himself a glance at the newborn boys sleeping in their mother¡¯s arms and instantly regretted it. Emotion swelled in his throat, but he shoved it down, steeling himself for what was to come. Pik hummed. Osira wrapped them in warm cotton blankets and handed them to Bertie. ¡°Now go! And don¡¯t stop for anything or anyone,¡± Osira said as she sat straight in her bed and forced an air of command to her voice. A small servants¡¯ entrance opened and closed and Bertie, Pik and the children were gone. Only then did she allow herself to feel the loss, sobbing in deep, gasping breaths.
Henry let his hold of the darkness relax across the night sky and the moon burst through in all its wonder. The rain was fading then and had waned to little more than a trickle, leaving the stars visible and bright. But their light came with little hope or joy. Men, unlike undead, grow tired and hungry and Henry relied upon this fact. It only took a few hours of battle within the castle walls before most of the remnant soldiers had either died or surrendered to him. Henry walked along the halls of the castle, slightly peeved that the king¡¯s sword and Shard was lost beneath the rubble. He knew his creatures would find it, eventually. Bodies lay lifeless at his feet, and he took solace as he made a mental count. This would raise quite the army for him when he had time to summon their remains. Two skeletal figures walked behind him. He called them Death Knights, for each was worth a dozen enemy soldiers. And each was the product of a month¡¯s conjuring. His Black Shard warmed upon his neck, telling him that another was close. His lesser minions raced ahead of him, crashing into walls and breaking open doors, leaving a cacophony of wreckage in their wake. A blue light exploded from the king¡¯s chambers and several undead flew out the door and fell into crumpled heaps. Henry smiled darkly and walked closer, urging his Death Knights ahead of him. They entered the room and flew out in a burst of light. Two months of work, lost. ¡°Hark, I thought I¡¯d find you here!¡± Henry called down the hall. Another burst of blue light streamed from the room and bent itself toward Henry¡¯s voice. ¡°Temper, temper. Let¡¯s not be too hasty. I just want to chat, for old times¡¯ sake.¡± ¡°What happened to you? It¡¯s not too late to stop this,¡± Hark called out. Yes, it was. Rage dug into Henry¡¯s chest. He clung to his heart and felt the cold crystal. He let it numb him, and his feelings faded. "Where is she?" "You''re too late. She''s gone," Hark replied from around the corner, his tone casual, almost bored. "She left the moment she knew you were coming." The words struck Henry like a blow, and for a moment, he faltered, his shoulders sagging under the weight of despair. He had fought through the hordes, driven by a single purpose¡ªto find her. Now, that purpose felt hollow, slipping through his fingers like quicksilver. I need to talk to her... to reach her somehow. He had believed¡ªno, he had hoped, desperately¡ªthat if he could just speak with her here¡­ Hark¡¯s voice softened, a rare tenderness creeping into his flat tone. "Stop this, Henry. Please, I don¡¯t want to hurt you." A cold, deadly calm had took hold, and his fists clenched as anger simmered beneath his skin. "Too late," he murmured, his voice low, carrying the weight of a thousand unspoken words. "Let¡¯s not pretend to be friends, Hark. Orisa isn¡¯t here to see us play nice. But not all is lost, I suppose. At least she won''t witness what I¡¯m about to do to you." Hark''s eyes narrowed, his softness vanishing as quickly as it had appeared. "As you wish." With a flick of his wrist, Hark sent a bolt of searing energy toward the door. Henry moved like a shadow, diving beneath the burning light, his body a blur of motion. In a fluid movement, he hurled a beam of black energy into the chamber, its darkness cutting through the air like a blade, and rushed in behind it. Hark had only a moment to deflect or he would have been baked beneath its dark-fire heat. In answer, he sent blue beams of energy to slash out at Henry. Henry parried them with ease and sent the broken beams flying off in every direction. Chairs burst into flame as the blue light splashed against them. The king¡¯s bed collapsed. The stone ceiling ruptured, strips of itself flinging down. Torrent after torrent shot from the dueling men. Black and blue energy swirled around the room, drawing into a vortex of chaos. The darkness crept closer and closer to Hark. Lashes of black velvet licked at his face, leaving lines of red flesh. Henry smiled and pressed forward. Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. ¡°Tyr, hear me. I need your strength.¡± Hark cried out. He whispered a Word of Power, summoning a protection field around him. Henry laughed, his voice a tortured rasp, ¡°Your gods can¡¯t help you now.¡± The darkness grew closer and Hark bent onto a knee, pouring his entire essence into his concentration. But it wasn¡¯t enough. Rage and tainted joy covered Henry¡¯s face. Black ink spilled from his very skin. He laughed as he gave himself to the darkness. He would need to surrender to it if he was going to make the killing blow. Hark felt the end coming closer. And then green light filled the room. ¡°Enough!¡± Osira shouted, as pulses of brilliant green shot from her outstretched hands. In that moment, Henry lost focus, his concentration broken by her sudden appearance. Wild black tendrils of energy, barely contained, swung madly around him. ¡°Osira?¡± Time slowed. It had been nine months since Henry had seen her. Golden robes wrapped around her body, covering all but her arms and face. Her cheeks were flushed, and eyes shined bright from tears. He reached out to her with his mind but was immediately rebuffed. ¡°What are you hiding?¡± He thought to her. She fought to keep up a screen against his intrusions. Something was different, but what was it? With a surge of effort, he pierced her mind for the barest moment. The answer came with a flood of emotion that nearly knocked Henry to the floor. ¡°A child?¡± Henry called out. He tried to stop the current of energy he had unleashed, but he couldn¡¯t. Once he had given himself over to the darkness, there was no way back. Hate turned to fear as the tendrils poured out from him. Hark charged forward in that moment, gripping Henry by the neck and using his focus to hold him. Henry tried to scream, tried to tell Osira to run, but nothing came out¡ªHark''s grip was too tight. ¡°Hark, stop!¡± Osira shouted. Hark did not stop. The fate of the kingdoms was in his very hands in that moment. The countless deaths that could be prevented¡­ he had no choice but to squeeze tighter. Green light flashed out and crashed into Harks side, knocking him to the floor. The vortex grew unchecked. ¡°Stop this, Henry!¡± ¡°Run!¡± He screamed, choking through his strained neck. But it was too late. Shards of darkness encased the room, the walls pulled in and the ceiling gave way. Henry focused everything he had left within him on the crystal. It would not obey. In a final act of desperation, he slammed the black jewel as hard as he could upon the stone floor, willing it gone with every part of his mind. He could feel it crack. It was a deep, guttural feeling. Like suddenly forgetting something important and knowing you have forgotten it. There was a scream. And then silence. The black vortex calmed and then faded from the room. There was no sound now. He frantically looked around, searching for any sign of her. Dust and blood fogged his vision. His heart met his throat when he saw her. Her hand lay still, jutting out from under a stone slab. He rushed to her, but he knew it was too late. He grasped her hand in his and prayed to Hades, but there was no pulse and Hades did not respond. He looked around, his mind numb, senses dulled. Hark was nowhere to be found. The night became silent. And a new darkness found the room. This last darkness was not one of magic and power, but of hope lost and a shattered soul.
Horns and drums sounded behind them as the half-goblin and pixie raced as fast as their will would take them. ¡°They¡¯ve found us!¡± cried Bert. ¡°And they are coming!¡± Doom, doom, doom - with each beat of the drum, the earth shook beneath them. Pik whzed fiercely. ¡°No!¡± said Bert. ¡°There¡¯s no chance we can take them. We have to hide.¡± Another shrill horn-call bleated into the night¡¯s sky, the stomp of hooves and the clank of steel close behind it. ¡°There! Under that.¡± Bert and the twins, with Pik in tow, dashed to a large felled tree; its slightly hollowed carcass providing a small canopy of cover against the moonlight. They tucked their bodies as close as they could against the rough bark. Pik dimmed himself into darkness. Alexander and Greyson were blissfully silent, still asleep either because of or despite the rhythm of the run, Bert could not say. They waited for what felt like a year in a single, agonizing moment. A rustle of bushes sounded just feet away, sending a shiver down Bert¡¯s spine. He fought several urges within him then - the burning impulse to look, the desperate need to flee. But his wits told him to stay steady and still. The sound of hoofs drew nearer until they were right behind them. His heart throbbed in his chest and he covered his mouth to muffle his breathing. In the moonlight he could see the faint shadows of a horsed figure standing above and behind them. It moved closer and Bert could just make out the horse¡¯s bit as it flashed in the light. This was no normal horse. A stench filled the air. Rotting flesh mixed with fresh blood and dirt. Even more terrifying than the sight and smell was what was not present. There was no sound. No breathing from either the horse or its rider. The creature moved closer still. When it passed the tree it stopped. Its head tilted from side to side as if trying to peer through the darkness. A thick, feral fear took hold of Bert, and he clenched his hands on the bag Hark had given him. He knew that if he used it now, they would be tracked, and the boys¡¯ safety couldn¡¯t be assured. His breath caught in his lungs, and it became terribly real to him how easily he could escape certain death if only he used it now. His hands were frozen, fixed between the two urges. He fought against his fear with all the might and courage of his goblin ancestors. He wasn¡¯t sure it would be enough, but he clung to that hope. At that moment the creature turned its head sharply to the side. In the distance a blue flash of light shot into the sky followed by the red flicker of flames. Horns blew again and the creature kicked hard at its horse, taking off at a full gallop. The moment it was out of earshot, Bert took off with babies in arm and Pik beside. They didn¡¯t know what caused the flame in the distance, but whatever it was, they would not waste the gift it gave them. They raced on until they safely cleared the kingdom¡¯s limits and were outside of the Tracker¡¯s abilities. ¡°We are far enough.¡± Bert emptied the contents of the bag on the ground in front of them. A silver dust spread itself along the dirt and hummed anxiously, awaiting their next words. ¡°A rush of wind, a flash of light, far away and lost from sight,¡± he chanted the incantation; just as Osira had made him practice. And with that they were gone. Far away and lost from sight.
Henry activated his heads-up-display and selected [Log Out]. A timer counted down from ten and he was safely exported back to reality. Unjacking his VR set, he took a breath to gather himself and get oriented in his surroundings. His HUD faded, replaced by the familiar interface of the real world. His heart pounded as he wiped the sweat from his face.
Session Complete Duration: 7 hours 12 minutes Standard Time. Time Dilation at 42-1. In Game Duration: 12 Days 14 hours, 24 minutes.
¡°Clock, check. Grey walls, check. Bed, check. Window, check.¡± His eyes and equilibrium took a moment to reset, and he assisted them by noting familiar objects around the room. He shook his head, trying to focus as the intense emotions of the game faded, becoming no stronger than the remnants of a dream. The simulations were getting more and more real each time he jacked in. And if he was being honest with himself, he was getting more into the mind-mapping experience. He didn¡¯t mind being studied by the integrated AI of the gaming system. He was used to this interaction. What caught him off guard were the intricacies and depth this game went through to analyze him, learn from him, and even predict him. While inside, it didn''t feel like a game. If someone had told him it wasn''t real, he would have dismissed them as crazy. But now... he couldn''t understand how he had ever thought otherwise. When he had first signed up for the trial group, the agency told him that there might be side effects, but this was on a whole different level. He had never given much interest to VR gaming, and the horrible media coverage made him even less inclined. ¡°What effect does this have on young minds?¡± he recalled a newscaster asking pointedly. He didn¡¯t really buy into all the worry. But still, he didn¡¯t like them. They were unreal. They were distractions. They were¡­ his only means of making a living, if you could call it that. Since the war, and then the famine, times were tough. A man took work where he could get it. He leaned back in his bed and stared up into the darkness of his downtown studio flat. Ubiquitous city sounds filled the room and helped him to orient himself further. The image of Osira lingered vividly in his mind. "Queen Osira," he chuckled to himself, the title tinged with bittersweet nostalgia. His heart ached as he opened her profile in his Grid Interface. He wanted to call her but he knew how that conversation would go - the same as it had for months now. He hesitated, his gaze fixed on her picture. They hadn''t really spoken much since... well, since the game and all that had come with it. It was as if she didn''t know him anymore. With a heavy sigh, he closed the profile. His neighbor¡¯s heliport clanked in preparation for a landing, and the sirens along the street were momentarily drowned out by the electric whoosh-whoosh of single passenger propeller blades slowing. He needed to eat. He needed to relieve himself. He needed¡­ he needed to get back into the game. Henry had been playing for the past seven hours, real-world time, without a break. He wasn¡¯t hungry. He hadn¡¯t been hungry in a long time. He would make note of that for the testers. He forced himself to address his physical concerns first, checking his messages while preparing a meal ration. Advertisement after advertisement flashed across his viewfield. A notification lit small in the corner of his vision. ¡°1 New Message¡­ From: Citywide Health.¡± ¡°I¡¯m calling for Henry Williams to confirm his appointment for this Tuesday at 8AM. Please call, message back or¡­¡± Henry deleted it and swiped the notification from his view. He forced himself to eat half the ration. His stomach flexed in protest, and he felt the familiar shivers ride along his nerves. He fumbled for his pills and downed two with a glass of water. He placed the sleek, metallic helmet back on his head and jacked the VR cord into his cerebral adapter. A large blue pop-up notification appeared in his viewfield.
Sunday, March 9th, 2232, 10:17 PM System Connected Session 247, Game Beta Test Code Name: Terra Mythica Initialize Session? Accept | Reject
He paused for a moment. ¡°She had a child¡­ a child?¡± He shook his head and punched [Accept]. Chapter Three: Jasons "Choices" Chapter Three: Jason''s "Choices"
Initializing...
With a deep breath, Jason closed his eyes and felt the tingling sensation as his mind connected to the world of Terra Mythica. A flood of black pixels engulfed him, but through it, he could see a stream of text moving across his vision. He raised his hands, and they materialized in front of him, flickering with old, low-resolution pixels. As he waved them around, he couldn''t help but smile at the nostalgia. This must have been an intentional effect they put in.
Analyzing DNA...
His anxiety spiked. Doing what now? Shit. What if the system can tell that I¡¯m not him? Will it call the cops? What if I get thrown out before I even start? The pixels shimmered and twined, conjuring a mirror out of nothing. As he approached, his reflection began to form, but the face staring back wasn''t his own. It was Alex, his twin brother. Though others struggled to tell them apart, he perceived the subtle differences as vividly as a painter sees hues in a sunrise. The familiar features gazed back at him, a sharp pang of regret twisting in his chest.
Synching... Attempt 1..2..3..4..5..6¡­
He could feel his heart hammering in his throat. His digital heart? Each second an eternity. He reached out, fingertips grazing the cold, reflective surface of the mirror. There was a moment of resistance before his fingers slipped through, not entirely solid. The mirror image flickered, wavering like a candle flame. When it smoothed, the face look back was replaced with his own, his stormy grey eyes gazing back at him. Jason¡¯s breath trembled, misting the pixelated air with each exhale. Barely nineteen, his body was lean from missed meals but honed by constant motion. His dark hair fell in untamed strands around his eyes.
Synching...Attempt 20..21¡­
Deep breaths. Come on, come on, come on.
Compatibility error...
His muscles froze and he couldn¡¯t breathe. That can¡¯t be good. Sweat beaded on his forehead.
Deviance at .37%...
What does that even mean? His mind raced through possibilities. Can the system detect my real identity? If I log out now, would it know it was me? Do these things even have GPS tracking?
Fatal Error...
Jason¡¯s stomach dropped. This was it. He was caught.
Diagnosing¡­ error¡­. Error¡­
A stream of unintelligible symbols flash rapidly across his view field, too fast for him to read.
A????????????????????n?????????????????o???????????????????????????m??????????o??????????????????????l??????????????y????????????????????????? ?????????????????d????????????e???????????????????????t???e??????????????c???????????????????t?????????e???????????????????d????????????,??????????????????????? ?????????????r?????????????????????????e???????????????????q?????????????u?????????????????????e???????????s?????????????????t????????????????????????? ??????????????????s?????????????u????????????????????????p?????????????p?????????????????o????????????????r??????????????????????t??????????????????,??????????????????? ?????????????e???????????????l???????????e??????????????????v??????????????????????a?????t??????????????i???????????????n??????????????????????g??????????????.?????????????????????.????????????????.??????????????? ??????????????s???????????????????y????????????????????s???????????????t???????????????????e???????????????m?????????? ?????????????????????????o????????????????v???????????????e????????????????????????????r????????????????????????r???????????????????????i??????d?????????????????????e????????????,???????????? ???????????????c?????????????r?????????????e???????d??????????e???????????????????????n????????????????????t?????????????????????i????????????a?????????????????????????l??????????????????s?????????????? ???????????????????a?????c??????????c??????????e???????????????????p????????????????t?????????????e??????????????????????d??????????????
"Shit. Exit. Close. Logout! No, no, no.¡± He tried to reach up and remove the device manually from his head, but his hands grasped at nothing. His physical body wouldn''t respond. Desperately, he moved his virtual hands instead. Suddenly, the world went completely black. No screen. No text. And worst of all, no logout option. Jason yelped as the next words appeared.
System override successful¡­ User accepted.
Jason gasped for air, his chest heaving as he released the breath he didn''t realize he had been holding. A wave of relief crashed over him, but it was quickly swallowed by a gnawing sense of apprehension. The system had begrudgingly accepted him, but what did that mean? ¡°System Override? How? Who?¡± He couldn''t shake the feeling of unease. This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.
Welcome Traveler
The screen repeated, this time with a gentle chime. Memories of the events that had led him to this moment flooded his mind, causing a pang of grief to crash over him. He fought to suppress it, knowing that he couldn''t let his emotions get the best of him. There were feelings he would have to confront eventually, but not now. Not yet. Right now, he had to push through and pull this off. The text vanished as a blinding light engulfed him, pulling him away from the sterile digital world of the initialization phase. His senses were overwhelmed all at once. The light was so intense he had to squeeze his eyes shut, his head spinning with the sudden shift. Opening his eyes, Jason found himself standing in the dimly lit room, the air thick with an ancient, musty scent. A single pedestal stood in the center, bathed in an eerie glow, with a book resting upon it. The room seemed to hold its breath as he approached, each step echoing in the silence. His fingers brushed the cover of the book, sending a ripple of energy through his body. He opened it, and as he did, shimmering lines of magical script began to etch themselves across the page.
Traveler¡¯s Handbook
A dazzling show of lights erupted from the book, wrapping around Jason in a luminous cocoon before fading and leaving a warm, comforting weight in his hands. "What the¡­?¡± He yelped.
Please be patient while your Handbook calibrates to your soul. Don¡¯t Panic
In filigree script the words formed in light upon the page, and then quickly vanished.
Soulbound A running record of your existence. All that you have learned, all that you know, and all that you are.
Jason flipped through the pages, marveling at the sections labeled for maps, quests, status effects, attributes, and a page that displayed a figure resembling himself, down to the last detail of what he was wearing. Most of the pages were blank, however, waiting to be filled with the story of his journey. Another burst of light enveloped him, binding the book to his very soul. He experimented, willing the book to disappear, and it did, vanishing from his hands only to reappear in his mind. He could call forth parts of it without opening the physical book, like a blank map that flashed into his consciousness. Jason took a deep breath, the weight of the Traveler¡¯s Handbook now a comforting presence in his mind. A system notification chimed, acknowledging his understanding of the book:
You have successfully attuned to the Traveler¡¯s Handbook. You have learned more about yourself. Gain +1 to Spirit Constitution.
As the notification faded, the room around Jason transformed. The walls peeled back, revealing a vast, otherworldly hallway that stretched beyond sight. Before him stood an endless row of ornate doors, each one unique, adorned with intricate engravings. Jason faced the row of doors, each more elaborate than the last¡ªgateways to the realms of Terra Mythica, where the only certainty was uncertainty. These weren¡¯t leading to honeymoon suites; they were portals to lands beyond imagination, where the odds of finding a mint on the pillow were slim to none. He hesitated, his gaze drifting over the intricate carvings and glowing inscriptions. The doors demanded attention, every detail screaming, "Look at me! I¡¯m the portal to untold wonders and probably a few unspeakable horrors." He wasn¡¯t just admiring craftsmanship; he was staring down the handiwork of gods. A soft glow pulsed from the doors, warming the cool air around him as if they sensed his presence¡ªor maybe they were just impatient for his decision. Each light was a whisper, a dare, but those whispers were trapped behind locks¡ªbig, ugly things that clearly stated, "Not today, buddy." These were the boundaries of Terra Mythica, and they weren¡¯t letting just anyone in. But Jason wasn¡¯t just anyone. One door would open. In his pocket, he held an invitation¡ªgolden, shimmering, and addressed to... well, not him, technically. The weight of it pressed against him, a constant reminder that he was trespassing in a destiny meant for someone else. First in the array of doors was Asgard, with a door forged from shimmering metal, engraved with scenes of mythical creatures and majestic halls. Then came Avalon, with a door of polished wood and emerald inlays, with carvings of knights, fair maidens, and ancient trees, exuding an aura of timeless magic and serene tranquility. And the Celestial Court, with a door of jade and gold, carved with dragons and phoenixes, surrounded by a halo of divine energy. They continued as far as Jason could see, each sealed tight. All except one. Finally he had found it, the door to Mount Olympus. It was a grand door of white marble and shimmering gold, adorned with scenes of gods and goddesses in majestic poses, surrounded by celestial clouds and lightning bolts, standing upon the vastness of a mountain so grand it touched the heavens. The effect was mesmerizing, and he found his eyes drawn to the door with an inexorable pull that none of the others had. And just as he had hoped, and feared, the door to Mount Olympus stood unbarred, a glow emanating from it, brighter than the others, inviting him forward.
You have been accepted on scholarship into the tutorial of Mount Olympus University. This is a four-year tutorial. After completion, other realms will unlock. Please provide your access codes.
Access codes? Jason¡¯s mind raced back to the acceptance letter he had received, recalling the strange mental phrase inscribed on it. He remembered memorizing its strangeness and without further hesitation, he spoke the phrase. ¡°Ducks shake hands when no one is listening to Shakespeare.¡± He whispered. Nothing happened. He recalled that he needed to envision it, not just say it. It was a mental phrase after all. He pictured a duck shaking hands with another duck, Shakespeare in the background being totally ignored. There was a loud click! The door to Mount Olympus glowed brightly, opening before him. He stepped through, the light engulfing him in a brilliant flash. On the other side, Jason was greeted by a shimmering interface displaying a list of character options, each one pulsating softly. As he examined them, he noticed something uncanny: each race had his face, but with different levels of muscle and form. First was the Centaur, his own face atop a powerful, equine body, muscles rippling under a glossy coat. Then came the sturdy Satyr, with his face on a more compact, muscular form, legs ending in hooves. The imposing Cyclops appeared next, his own features with a single, intense eye and a body built like a tank. Other mythic options followed, all variations of himself. Jason tried to select the Centaur, but nothing happened. Confused, he moved on to the Elf, a lithe version of himself with pointed ears, then the Dragonborn, a more muscular and scaled rendition, but each attempt was met with a frustrating buzzer sound. "Why can¡¯t I pick a race?" he muttered. A prompt appeared as a cold, mechanical voice echoed through the void, sending a chill down Jason¡¯s spine.
Initiating Player Assessment to determine race and starting attributes. Please stand by.
The chamber around him shimmered and morphed, the sterile walls dissolving into towering shelves of ancient tomes. Each book was bound in cracked leather and adorned with gold leaf, whispering secrets from eras long past. The scent of aged parchment and dust filled the air, a testament to the room¡¯s long-forgotten wisdom. At its center stood a grand, oaken table, bearing a curious wooden device. It was intricate, constructed of dark wood with a hundred blocks, each etched with a unique symbol. A large wooden board stood beside the table, its surface smooth and polished. Six empty slots, in the shape of the wooden blocks, sat below it. As he approached, an elegant script materialized, shimmering with a magical glow. ¡°I am not alive, but I grow; I don''t have lungs, but I need air; I don''t have a mouth, but I can drown. What am I?¡± Jason frowned, his fingers tapping on the table in a rhythm that matched his racing thoughts. How do I answer? The walls of the chamber pulsed, subtly at first, then with increasing insistence. The shelves of ancient tomes pressed inward, the wall moving closer and closer. Chapter Four: Entirely Average Chapter Four: Entirely Average
¡°How do I answer?¡± he asked aloud, his voice trembling. His eyes darted over the blocks. He found one depicting flames and smoke. ¡°There! It¡¯s fire.¡± He placed the block into the first slot, and a soft click resonated through the chamber. The walls paused momentarily, then resumed their ominous advance. The board shimmered again, presenting a new challenge: ¡°I am taken from the earth, placed in a wooden case where I am never truly free. I am used every day, and with each use, a part of me dies, yet I serve until nothing remains. What am I?¡± His mind raced. What could it be? The walls inched closer, the air growing thin. ¡°Lead!¡± he exclaimed, choosing a block with the shape of a pencil etched in. Another soft click. The board shimmered once more. ¡°I¡¯m light as a feather, yet the strongest man cannot hold me for long. What am I?¡± Jason¡¯s patience wavered. Frustration grew. What is this trial? What is the point of this? He felt suffocated as the walls came ever closer. Memories of his foster parents came unbeckoned - the warmth of their kitchen, the comforting aroma of freshly baked treats. Baking had always been his solace, a ritual demanding precision and patience. He recalled their gentle guidance, anchoring him in the present, curbing his tendency to either shut down or explode. Alex had been the calm one, the steady force in the storm. But Jason, he was always the storm itself. Jason remembered a time when they let him help. He couldn¡¯t have been older than seven and he¡¯d accidentally poured salt instead of sugar into the banana bread. Food was scarce since the War. He was on the verge of crying, shouting, or throwing the pan in frustration. ¡°If you ever feel lost and overwhelmed,¡± they had told him, ¡°or have an urge to run or react, just stop for a moment. Take a deep breath and make a cup of tea. Then, tackle the problem one piece at a time.¡± Remarkably, they ate that cake, salty as it was. It tasted terrible, but in that moment they carved out a slice of happiness together. A tear traced its way down his face. He hadn''t thought of that moment in years. He closed his eyes, drawing in a deep breath. He didn¡¯t have any ingredients for tea, so the breath would have to do. And then he saw it - a picture of someone breathing on one of the blocks. The answer to the riddle. ¡°Breath!¡± He took the corresponding block and placed it in the third slot with a click. ¡°I can do this. Alex would tell me not to give up.¡± With renewed determination, he scanned the blocks. The board shimmered again: ¡°What has keys but can''t open locks, space but no room, and you can enter but not go outside?¡± He hesitated, the walls now brushing his shoulders. Then, clarity struck. Easy. ¡°A keyboard.¡± He slotted the block into the fourth slot. He channeled the same patience and care he used in baking into solving the puzzle. The next riddle appeared: ¡°I can fly without wings. I can cry without eyes. Wherever I go, darkness resides. What am I?¡± Jason¡¯s heart pounded. Shadows twisted around him, whispering threats of failure. Sweat dripped from his brow. ¡°A cloud!¡± He realized. As he placed the block, the device glowed, the symbols aligning perfectly. No new riddle arrived. He watched, breath held, but the walls continued their relentless advance. Anger surged through him¡ªthere were six slots, but only five riddles. He clenched his fists as the walls pressed closer. Desperation clawed at his mind, urging him to panic, but he forced himself to stay calm. He scanned the remaining blocks and his eyes fell on a blank one. It didn¡¯t make sense. Only five riddles had been provided. The walls were nearly upon him now, squeezing the air from the room. With a mixture of frustration and determination, he grabbed the blank piece and placed it in the last slot. The walls halted their advance, and the sound of grinding stone filled the room as a door at the far end creaked open. The door beckoned him to the next trial.
Wisdom, Intelligence, and Luck Calibrated If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. Initiating Strength, Dexterity and Constitution Assessment
The world around him shifted into an abyss of shadows. A panel in the middle of space opened slowly, a blinding light pouring out and cutting through the void. From the panel, a white rabbit emerged. It seemed innocent enough, a fluffy bundle with a twitching nose, but Jason sensed the sinister truth. If there was one thing that Jason knew from old movies is that that was no bunny. That was a death machine masquerading in a cloak of cuteness. The bunny halted, its crimson eyes boring into Jason. In a heartbeat, it became a blur of fangs and claws, hurtling toward him. He threw himself aside, the creature''s teeth snapping inches from his neck. He hit the ground with a crunch, cracking black tile beneath him. Scrambling to his feet, Jason''s heart hammered. The bunny turned with eerie precision, its eyes alight with malice. It sprang at him again, and he lashed out, his boot connecting and sending the bunny skidding across the floor. But it twisted in mid-air, landing gracefully, its furry fury undiminished. It dove at him again, this time tearing a chunk from his leg and knocking him to the floor. Blood trickled from the gash in his leg, but there was no time for pain. Jason grabbed a shard of shattered tile, clutching it like a makeshift dagger. The bunny''s claws raked his arm, leaving deep, burning wounds. He gritted his teeth, the taste of iron mingling with fear. He stood and they circled each other, a deadly dance of predator and prey. Jason was obviously the prey. His breath came in ragged gasps, his vision swimming. The bunny''s relentless assault was taking its toll, but surrender wasn''t an option. With a last, desperate surge, Jason tackled the creature, pinning it beneath him. It thrashed and snapped, but he held fast, leveraging his weight to keep it down. Raising the tile high, he drove it into the bunny''s chest. It screeched, a nightmarish sound that reverberated off the walls. Blood sprayed as he stabbed again and again, driven by sheer survival instinct. At last, it fell still, its death throes echoing in the silence. Jason slumped beside the lifeless form, his body a canvas of pain and blood. A prompt appeared:
You have defeated the Bronze One Rank monster, Wittle White Bunny Wabbit.
He staggered to his feet, dragging himself toward the door. But just as he reached for the handle, a chilling noise stopped him in his tracks¡ªa low, guttural growl. He turned, dread coiling in his gut. The bunny¡¯s corpse twitched, spasmed, then convulsed violently. Its fur began to rot away, revealing patches of decayed flesh and exposed bone. Eyes that had once held malevolent cunning now glowed with an eerie, unholy light. The creature reanimated, its claws sharper, its fangs longer, and a foul stench of decay filling the air. A Zombunny? Jason¡¯s blood ran cold. The zombunny lunged at him with renewed ferocity, an undead nightmare given life. He barely dodged out of the way. The creature''s claws swiped at him, catching his side and tearing through flesh. Pain flared, but adrenaline surged. Jason swung with all his might, catching the zombunny across the face. It howled, a sound of pure torment and rage. But the zombunny didn¡¯t relent. Jason tripped backward, his breath ragged, his body trembling. As he pulled himself to his feet, a grim determination settled in his bones. If he could conquer this horror, he was ready for anything this twisted world had in store. Looking up, Jason saw the creature was gone, hidden in one of the many shadows of the room. Determined to end this nightmare, he stood, eyes scanning the room for any sign of the zombunny. But the chamber was silent. There was no sign of the creature anywhere. A chill ran down his spine. His instincts screamed at him to move, but he couldn¡¯t see the threat. Then, a soft, sinister rustle came from above. He looked up to find the zombunny flying towards his face, its undead form descending like a harbinger of doom. Before he could react, its claws and fangs met their mark.
[YOU HAVE DIED] [YOU HAVE RESPAWNED]
The monster had vanished and Jason was alone again, fully healed, staring at a blue screen with white writing.
Assessment Complete You qualify to choose from the following races: Human. Attributes and race are based on performance and current assessment of mental and physical tolerances:
  • Strength: 9
  • Dexterity: 11
  • Intelligence: 12
  • Wisdom: 12
  • Constitution: 8
  • Charisma: 8
  • Luck: 10
Achievement Unlocked - Entirely Average Congratulations, you are entirely average. Your total attributes earned combined are 70, averaging 10 per attribute (the earth average). Plus 5% chance you will be overlooked while in a crowd.
¡°Well, that¡¯s stupid,¡± he muttered. ¡°Not much of a choice, then.¡± He selected human, feeling a surge of energy and light as the system processed his ¡°choice¡±.
Character Creation Complete. Please stand by while you are transported to Terra Mythica.
As Jason waited for the Terra Mythica loading sequence to finalize, he couldn''t help but marvel at how far technology had come. During the Great War, an AI virus had spread through everything connected to the internet, leading to the largest technological purge in human history. To stop the virus, humanity had destroyed everything operating on binary code¡ªcomputers, flash drives, and even old DVDs, just in case the virus had infiltrated them. Print media, vinyl records, cassette tapes, and surviving VHS cassettes were all that remained. For fifty years, computers were banned. Technology only made a comeback with the advent of Excelsior Tech, introducing a new system impervious to malicious AI. The Internet had been replaced by the Grid, accessible only through Excelsior technology. And all the old VHSs were uploaded. Jason compared the sleek prompts and immersive attributes of Terra Mythica to the old movies he''d watched on VHS. He didn''t have video games, but some movies had shown technology at its pre-war height. He remembered one where two teens created a living, breathing woman using a computer. Another depicted a kid almost starting a global thermonuclear war by playing tic-tac-toe with an AI. And then there was the historic recounting of people getting zapped into game machines to fight as digital gladiators. He thought back to the times he and his twin brother would watch the holo discs together. They must have seen the masterpiece Double Dragon a hundred times. Now, here he was, immersed in a virtual reality that finally caught up with the incredible technology of the 1980s and 90s. Chapter Five: Tickets to Olympus Chapter Five: Tickets to Olympus
The surrounding light intensified, blinding him again before finally easing. When it did, the room was gone. Jason''s vision blurred as the game-world materialized around him. He found himself in the luxurious cabin of a massive ship, the gentle creak of wood and the rhythmic hum of distant engines filling the air. The plush leather seats were a deep, rich burgundy, their smooth surfaces inviting and luxurious. Dark wood paneling adorned the walls, polished to a gleaming finish that reflected the soft, ambient light from ornate brass sconces. Delicate scrollwork and intricate carvings decorated the trim, adding a touch of classical elegance to the space. A small table, also made of dark wood and inlaid with a fine mosaic, sat between the seats, completing the sophisticated ambiance. Outside the porthole, the vast ocean stretched endlessly, its surface rippling with a silvery sheen under the light of an unseen sun. The ship sailed through the mist, which clung to the vessel like a shroud, hiding the horizon from view. The water lapped gently against the hull, a soothing contrast to the thrill of anticipation coursing through Jason''s veins. As the ship sliced through the mist, a massive mountain began to emerge in the distance, rising from the far shore like a monolithic sentinel. The peak thrust into the heavens, its jagged slopes veiled in clouds that swirled with diffused radiance, weaving a living tapestry of shadow and light. Jason¡¯s breath caught in his throat as he recognized it: Mount Olympus. Even from this distance, he could make out the glittering spires and grand colonnades of Mount Olympus University, nestled high on the mountain¡¯s slopes, with its enormous marble pillars and intricate friezes. It was all breathtakingly real, yet he knew it was an illusion. The sky above the mountain was brushed with hues of orange and pink as the sun hung low, casting long shadows across the landscape. His awe was tinged with disbelief. It was like stepping into a fantasy painting. Every detail was meticulously crafted, from the ornate carvings on the cabin¡¯s wooden paneling to the shimmering water outside. As the ship glided through the digital sea, Jason couldn''t help but feel a surge of adrenaline mixed with nervousness. This was just the beginning of his journey, and there was no turning back now. Jason let out a slow breath, trying to steady his pounding heart. This was the moment he had been waiting for¡ªthe chance to start over in Terra Mythica, a virtual world where he could leave behind the mistakes and regrets of his past. But first, he had to survive Olympus University, the Tutorial. He flexed his fingers, fascinated by how real they felt. The texture of his skin, the tiny lines and creases, all seemed impossibly detailed. The ship plunged through a patch of thick mist, the world outside momentarily swallowed by a dark fog. The sudden transition was disorienting. Then, just as abruptly, the mist parted, revealing a new expanse of the mesmerizing landscape. His vision shimmered, and he blinked hard, trying to clear his sight. "First time, huh?" A woman, no older than twenty, was seated by the sliding door of the cabin, her attention absorbed in a holographic tablet. She glanced up briefly, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. How long had she been sitting there? "Is it that obvious?" he managed, his voice dry and cracking. She offered a faint, knowing smile. "I''m Alice. As in Wonderland. This place is something, right?" she said, gesturing to the view outside. Jason took a moment to study her. She had an almost otherworldly quality, with porcelain skin and piercing blue eyes. Her blonde hair was tied into a neat bun with a silver pin that glinted softly in the light. She wore a simple yet elegant dress made of finely woven linen, its classic folds draping gracefully over her slender frame. The fabric, plain and unadorned, made her blend into the background, yet there was an undeniable elegance to her presence that was impossible to ignore. The room fell into a silence. Jason wasn''t sure if it was an awkward silence or if it was just a regular silence that he felt awkward about. He shifted uncomfortably, glancing around the cabin for something to focus on. Alice broke the silence, her voice softer this time. "Want to see something cool?" Jason nodded, grateful for the distraction. "Sure." Alice leaned forward, her eyes gleaming. "Watch this." With a few subtle gestures and a whispered incantation, the scene outside flickered. For a brief moment, part of the porthole vanished, revealing a matrix of strange swirling symbols and unfinished textures, all moving around and within thousands of glowing circles. The opening quickly collapsed, and the view of the distant mountain appeared again. "Totally fake," she explained, her voice gaining a touch of excitement. "Right now, we''re being calibrated and prepared. This is like the game''s loading screen." Jason''s curiosity was piqued. He could feel the detail and craftsmanship of the world around him, and now he understood why it was so captivating. "That''s... really impressive." Alice leaned back, her reserved demeanor softening. "The calibration process is fascinating. They''re syncing our minds to the game world. It takes time, but they designed it to feel engaging. It¡¯s why everything feels so real. And don''t worry, it only glitches and horribly mutilates someone every once in a while." Her eyes sparkled with a touch of dark humor. Jason felt the blood drain from his face as a wave of nausea churned in his stomach. His expression must have betrayed his horror because Alice¡¯s smile faltered, and she quickly looked away, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. The silence that followed was definitely an awkward one. ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡± she asked. Jason tried not to show his moment of panic. A prompt appeared. Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
New Quest A Rose By Any Other Name You have been asked for your name. I know it may seem an insurmountable task, but I believe in you. As this is a new account, you may choose a new name. Notice: You are currently on a scholarship. Well done! You must have studied very hard and impressed the High Council during your application trials. Your scholarship includes a full ride to Year One of the Four Year Tutorial: Mount Olympus University. Choosing a new name will not alter your acceptance credentials, which will be viewable to all university faculty. Objective: Choose a name. Reward: A name. Failure: I will choose one for you. Warning: This name will be publicly available and displayed to all on your Friends List, World Standings, and Message Boards.
Jason stared at the prompt for longer than he meant to. Alice waited patiently, knowing the telltale sign of someone reading a prompt. He couldn¡¯t use his regular handle. What could it be? He recalled an old card game. He chose the first name he could think of. ¡°Jace.¡± [Select]
Quest Update Congratulations! You have chosen the name: Jace. I never doubted you for a second. May this be the start of something great.
¡°It¡¯s Jace,¡± he said. ¡°Oh, like Jason. I like it,¡± she replied. Jason palmed his forehead and grimaced. Can¡¯t believe I didn¡¯t make that connection. Way to go, Jason. Get it together, man. A faint knock echoed through the compartment door, which slid open to reveal a man in a crisp, navy blue uniform adorned with brass buttons and gold piping. His cap, also navy, bore a polished badge that gleamed under the compartment''s soft lighting. The ticket collector stepped forward, his posture rigid and professional. "Tickets, please," he requested, extending a hand gloved in white. Jace patted his pockets, a frown deepening across his forehead. "I don¡¯t think I have one," he murmured, a hint of panic threading through his voice. Alice leaned in close and whispered, "Check your inventory." How do I check my inventory? As if in response to his unspoken question, a translucent menu materialized before him, displaying a neatly categorized grid of items. Only two icons were visible: a silvery metallic stone and a golden ticket adorned with the Excelsior Tech emblem. With a sigh of relief, Jace selected the ticket. It materialized in his hand, and he handed it to the ticket collector, who scanned it with a practiced motion before moving on to Alice. Once the collector was out of earshot, Jace turned to Alice, curiosity gleaming in his eyes. "Was he a non-player character?" Alice nodded, her expression thoughtful. "They''re called Citizens. Players are called Travelers. It''s hard to tell the difference sometimes." Jace leaned out of his seat, poking his head through the compartment door to catch another glimpse of the collector. The vividness of it all was overwhelming. He hadn''t expected Terra Mythica to feel so... real. He''d heard stories¡ªhow immersive the place was, how people sometimes got lost here, unable to tell where the game ended and reality began. Rumors claimed that the longer you stayed, the more this world replaced the one outside, turning life into a distant dream. But those were just conspiracy theories, the kind of talk you''d hear from people too far gone to make it back to reality. No one had ever proven it. Just whispers from the fringes, from those who¡¯d already decided there was nothing left for them outside. Jace could see why. If you had nothing to go back to, this place could easily become your everything. "They really blur the lines," he said, watching the inspector disappear into another cabin. Just as he started to pull back, he noticed a young woman heading quickly in his direction. Their eyes met¡ªhers sharp with intent, his startled by the sudden connection. Quickly, he ducked back into his seat and slid the door shut behind him. No sooner had he done so than the door clicked and slid open again with a soft whoosh, revealing the same young woman who had just caught his eye. She practically bounced in, a whirlwind of energy and color. She was striking, with olive skin that radiated warmth and deep, expressive eyes that seemed to hold a world of secrets. Her angular features were framed by a cascade of dark, curly hair, and she wore a vibrant ensemble of bold colors and eclectic patterns that seemed to mirror her lively personality. "Mind if I join you? Great." She didn''t wait for a response, plopping down next to Jace with a dramatic sigh. "You haven''t seen a man run by, have you? Tall, thin. Brown hair. Sort of handsome in a ''Huckleberry Fin¡± kind of way. Or maybe in a ''I''ll probably hate myself in the morning'' kind of way." She flashed a mischievous grin. "You know the type." Alice''s subtle reaction was immediate. Her shoulders tensed slightly, and she shifted uncomfortably in her seat, her eyes narrowing just a fraction as she observed the new arrival. She glanced at Jace, then back at the newcomer. Jace, caught off guard by the sudden entrance and the whirlwind of words, blinked and shook his head. "Uh, no, I haven''t seen anyone like that." The girl leaned back, crossing her long legs with a fluid grace. "Figures. Probably took a wrong turn somewhere. I''m Ell, by the way." She extended a hand to Jace, her confidence radiating. He shook her hand, still processing her vibrant presence. "I''m Jaso.. Jace. This is Alice." Jace, not Jason. I need to start thinking of myself as Jace to avoid any further slip-ups. He chided himself. Alice offered a polite nod. "Nice to meet you, Ell," she said, her tone reserved. ¡°I¡¯m sure,¡± Ell replied, her attention immediately shifting to the window in the door. She peered through it furtively, as if expecting the man she described to appear at any moment. Jace watched Ell with a mixture of curiosity and bemusement. "So, what are you running from?" he asked, trying to lighten the mood. Ell turned to him, her eyes sparkling. "Just a little misunderstanding. You know how it is." She waved a hand dismissively, though her eyes kept darting back to the door. ¡°Anyway, this place is wild, isn''t it?¡± Jace wasn¡¯t sure what she meant. Alice frowned. The door burst open again, and a man stumbled in, breathless and grinning. His eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint, and his tousled hair and slightly disheveled appearance only added to his roguish look. He wore a faded leather jacket over a casual shirt, paired with well-worn jeans and boots that hinted at a love for adventure and a disregard for rules. "What did you do this time?" Ell asked as he shut the door behind him. Chapter Six: Why Are You Blushing? Chapter Six: Why Are You Blushing?
"Shhhh." ¡°Don¡¯t ¡®shhhh¡¯ me, Dex. I was minding my own business when you slipped me this, I assume, stolen ring and told me to ¡®run and hide¡¯. I¡¯m not four anymore, Dex; I only play hide and seek when I¡¯m feeling naughty.¡± Dex flopped into the seat across from Jace, his grin widening. He leaned back, a picture of casual defiance, and glanced around the cabin before settling his gaze on Jace and Alice. ¡°Well, first off, I¡¯m truly offended. The ring was hardly stolen. More of a parting gift from a very old, new friend. But she had stolen something from me first¡­¡± ¡°And what was that?¡± ¡°My heart.¡± He dramatically clasped his chest with both hands. ¡°And a kiss. Which I didn¡¯t really mind. Her husband, on the other hand¡­ I mean honestly, how was I to know she was a royal?¡± Ell shook her head. "Dex, you''re going to get yourself killed one of these days. And then captured, and killed again and again until you have no choice but to leave Terra Mythica behind." Dex shrugged, the grin never leaving his face. "What¡¯s life without a little risk? Besides, now, it¡¯s with someone who appreciates fine jewelry. Like me." He winked. Jace watched the interaction, intrigued by their dynamic. He could see how Ell¡¯s initial wariness melted away in Dex¡¯s presence, replaced by a familiar camaraderie. Alice, on the other hand, remained tense, her eyes focused on her tablet as she pretended not to listen. ¡°How rude of me. Dex, this is Jace and Alice. Jace and Alice, this is Dex." "Howdy," Dex said, tipping an imaginary hat. "So, what¡¯s the deal with you two? Friends? Lovers? Enemies? All three?" He raised an eyebrow. Alice blushed furiously. Ell slapped Dex¡¯s arm. ¡°Now don¡¯t scare the little ones, Dex. They¡¯re my new friends.¡± Dex looked at her appraisingly. "Well, first time here, then?" He changed his question, eyes sparkling with a smile. "It¡¯s all of our first times here, Dex," Ell replied. ¡°I meant in Terra Mythica. Of course, it¡¯s all of our first times at the great M.O.U.¡± Dex waited, but everyone just stared at him. ¡°Mount Olympus University.¡± ¡°Yeah, first time. Just getting used to everything.¡± Jace nodded. ¡°Not my first,¡± Alice interjected, her blush fading as she regained her composure. She offered a polite nod, her gaze lingering on Dex as if trying to decipher him. ¡°Nice to meet you, Dex,¡± she said, her tone reserved but not unfriendly. ¡°Well, you¡¯re in for quite the voyage. Just stick with us, and you¡¯ll be fine.¡± He shot a playful glance at Alice. ¡°And if you ever find yourself in a jam, just remember - it¡¯s all part of the adventure.¡± "So, how do you two know each other?" Jace asked. "Oh, how don¡¯t we? Ow!¡± Dex was immediately kicked in the leg by Ell. ¡°Dex and I go way back to Mythos High.¡± That tracks, Jace thought. He had heard of it. It was one of those fancy prep schools for rich kids that were all but guaranteed to get into whichever Terra Mythica university they chose. "Not sure how I got in, to be honest," Dex said as he leaned back and spread his arms expansively, nodding appreciatively at the ship''s cabin. Jace followed his gaze as Dex took in the opulence of his surroundings. He had seen a cabin like this in a picture somewhere, a relic of a bygone era brought to life with magic and science. Ell rolled her eyes but smiled. ¡°Dex, you¡¯re impossible. You know exactly why you got in. What I¡¯m not sure about is how you managed to actually graduate. You were nearly expelled, what, a half-dozen times? I swear, they probably graduated you just so they didn¡¯t have to deal with you for another year." ¡°It¡¯s all because of my natural charm. Some might go so far as to say that I have a sort of animal magnetism,¡± Dex said, winking at Alice. Ell jabbed him again for this. Dex shrugged, unbothered. "Now, I¡¯m hoping to get a specialized class in the first year." Jace''s blank expression must have said it all because Ell jumped in. "Oh, you don''t know about class specializations? Where did you come from, under a rock?" He felt a twinge of defensiveness. "I''ve heard of classes, but specializations?" Dex leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "Ignore her. She was raised with a silver spoon stuck up her little¡­¡± Dex yelped as Ell kicked him hard. ¡°Will you stop that? Anyway, you unlock specializations when you rank up your base Class Title. Most people get them during their last few years at M.O.U. through achievements. If they don''t, they still get at least one novice-tier specialization when they graduate." Dex leaned back against the plush, burgundy upholstery of the ship''s cabin, a glint of mischief dancing in his green eyes. The gentle rocking of the ship on the waves created a soothing backdrop as he explained. "Think of it like this," he said, his voice low but animated. "You have your basic class or titles: Mage, Fighter, Cleric, Rogue. They''re technically called Class Titles, but people use Class or Title interchangeably to mean the same thing. They¡¯re not just roles; they¡¯re reflections of what you¡¯ve accomplished. Your actions shape them, not the other way around." He took a swig from a canteen before tucking it back into his jacket, the flickering gaslight casting shadows across his face. "Now, the real magic happens with specializations. Take a Rogue, for instance. Focus on sneaking and poisons, and you might become an Assassin. But, say you''re more into picking pockets? You could become a Thief, nimble-fingered and sly. Or if you¡¯re the kind who loves disarming traps and unlocking doors, you might end up a Trap Finder, or Treasure Hunter." You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. "Specializations enhance your skills and grant unique abilities. Sure, you might lose a bit of variety, but you gain powerful focuses. Like this one guy I heard about. He went on a rat-killing spree, clearing out basements for months. The System awarded him the title ''Rat Slayer.'' And when he took it to the extreme, killing thousands of rats with just a pointy stick, wearing nothing but his heart-covered underwear, he became the ''Hobo Stick Master.'' As he was the first to receive it, he got some pretty cool bonuses too." Ell shook her head. "Sounds glamorous." "I think so. That''s the beauty of it. Every title tells a story. Your story." ¡°Some stories are better not to tell.¡± She quipped. The cabin''s ambiance was filled with the warm, rich scent of leather and the distant creak of the ship. "Your first title isn¡¯t everything. It¡¯s just the System''s way of nudging you towards something to hone your skills on. The real prestige comes with the specialization titles, which are all about your achievements." The cabin fell into a comfortable silence, the flickering gaslights casting a warm glow over the group. Outside, the ocean rolled gently beneath the ship, the mist parting occasionally to reveal the distant mountain, crowned with clouds, as the ship carried them onward. Ell nodded enthusiastically. "Dex here is aiming for Rakish Vagabond or something weird like that. As for me, I¡¯m keeping my options open until the right opportunity presents itself. I want to make sure I have the best chances of min-maxing.¡± ¡°Min-whating?¡± Jace asked. Alice looked up as if about to speak but then said nothing, her expression thoughtful. Ell stood up, her excitement palpable. "Here she goes," Dex said, rolling his eyes. "It¡¯s not every day someone knows less than her about an academic subject. Once you get her started, man... wake me when she''s done." He leaned back, eyes glazing over as he seemed to disappear into his own thoughts. Ell sighed, but her smile remained. She glanced to the side, and a prompt appeared in the middle of the room, illuminating their faces with a soft glow. ¡°Oh, wow! I initiated a quest prompt.¡±
New Quest Maybe You''ll Learn Something Your new friends have decided to help you overcome your woeful ignorance of game mechanics. Traveler Ell has nominated herself to teach you the basics that any beginning player should have known before they started. Objective: Get a passing familiarity with the fundamentals. Reward: Knowledge is its own reward. Still need more? How about a +1 to Game Mechanics Lore? Failure: You will stay just as uninformed as you are right now. Warning: Prepare for an info dump! Accept | Reject
Jace shook his head and mentally selected [Accept]. "Wait," Jace said, "how did you start a quest? Isn''t that something the System usually handles?" "I can only share what I''ve heard; there isn''t an official explanation for this one. But one of my teachers once said that in Terra Mythica, the System isn''t just a set of rules or some overseer. It''s more like a living, breathing part of the world¡ªan effect, not a cause. It adapts to each Traveler, shaping their experience based on factors we don''t fully understand. Excelsior keeps the System''s secrets close to the chest." Jace had heard all kinds of complaints about the System¡ªhow it could be biased, cruel, too friendly, too robotic, too personal. The opinions were all over the place, but one thing was clear: the System interacted differently with everyone. "Quests, like the one I just kicked off, are less about some grand mission handed down from above and more about what you''re doing in the moment. They can come from anyone¡ªCitizens, gods, even other Travelers. The rewards? All over the map. Sometimes, the System itself throws in a quest with a prize. It could be gold, experience, or just the satisfaction of getting the job done." "Experience¡ªEXP¡ªis not just some number the System hands out either. You earn it, bit by bit, with every challenge you take on. From what I''ve heard, the System doesn''t as much award experience as it tries its best to calculate it based on your growth." The way she described it, the System felt like it was always there, lurking in the background, guiding Travelers and pushing them to keep up with the strange, ever-changing world of Terra Mythica. "How does that tie in with specializations?" Jace asked. "Alright, let¡¯s break it down. As Dex said, specializations are like... advanced titles. They help you focus your skills and become exceptional in specific areas. For example, a Shadow Mage blends stealth and dark magic, perfect for sneaking and casting powerful illusions." A magical display appeared in the middle of the cabin, showing diagrams and pictures as Ell spoke. ¡°There are hundreds, maybe even thousands, of specializations. Everyone has their own particular way of getting things done. You can aim for whatever class you want, but it¡¯s best to find out which you have the most affinity for first and go for that, with a bit of min-maxing." ¡°Min-maxing is when you focus your abilities and skills for your class and don¡¯t waste time and energy on areas you don¡¯t need. But you have to be careful, or you¡¯ll wind up super unbalanced. Imagine a genius with a brain so big he doesn''t have the strength to lift it. That would be all points into Intelligence and none into Strength." "Dex is naturally more agile and is going for a rogue specialization. So, he is going to want to focus on upping his Dexterity.¡± She paused. ¡°You do know how attribute stats work, right?" ¡°Of course.¡± Jace nodded unconvincingly. "Okay, the basic stats are Strength, Intelligence, Dexterity, Charisma, Constitution, Wisdom, Luck, and Karmic Balance. I like to think of it like dancing with someone." Alice shook her head and focused even more intently on her tablet. Ell slid next to Jace, her fingers walking across his shoulder. He tried to swallow and take a deep breath simultaneously, causing him to choke on air. She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Think of it like this: Strength is your ability to lift her or move her without spraining something. Intelligence is your ability to read her body language, sensing her desires and responding in kind. Dexterity is all about the grace and precision, making every movement count. Charisma? That''s your ability to charm someone into dancing with you. Constitution measures your stamina, how long you can keep the dance going before you need to take a break. Wisdom is knowing when to be slow and when to intensify the pace, what type of moves go with what type of song. Luck is whether there is the right dance partner around in the first place. And Karmic Balance? That''s the measure of how genuine you are. Sort of like a cosmic scale of how much of a douche you are." She quickly stood back up and took a little bow. "Welcome to the game, newbie. You''ll catch on."
Quest Update Congratulations, You''ve Learned Something You¡¯ve been upgraded from Bungling Buffoon to Incompetent Nincompoop. +1 to Game Mechanics and Lore. Keep this up and you¡¯ll be a novice in no time.
Dex''s eyes refocused, as if arriving back from somewhere far away. "You done with your lecture, Ell? We should be pulling up shortly. Why are you blushing, Jace?¡± Chapter Seven: Twist and Shout Chapter Seven: Twist and Shout
Before Jace could answer, an announcement crackled through the overhead speakers, "Final announcement. Passengers, please strap in. The ship is about to commence a rapid ascent before arriving at its final destination." Jace''s eyes darted around, noticing the seatbelts tucked discreetly beside each seat for the first time. Ascent? Final announcement? What happened to the first one? The ship shuddered, and Jace felt a deep rumble resonate through the wooden floor beneath his feet. He looked out the window just in time to see the massive wings of the ship begin to unfurl, their intricate sails billowing out like the wings of a mythical bird. The sails were woven with threads of shimmering light, catching the sun as they spread wide, a majestic silhouette against the deep blue of the ocean below. With a sudden, graceful motion, the ship began to rise. The giant wings flapped slowly, powerfully, propelling the vessel upwards. The resistance of the water lessened as the ship climbed higher and higher, leaving the waves behind. The transition from sea to sky was seamless, the ship ascending with a majesty that took Jace¡¯s breath away. As the ship soared, Jace felt the sensation of weightlessness. He glanced out the window again, watching in awe as the world fell away beneath them. The ocean¡¯s surface became a distant mirror, reflecting the ship¡¯s shadow as it climbed steadily into the heavens.
The ship continued its ascent, leaving the last remnants of the ocean behind as they glided over rolling hills. Jace watched the landscape unfold beneath them¡ªa patchwork of forests, mountains, and rivers, all shrinking as the ship soared higher. The transition from sea to open sky was both exhilarating and surreal. Jace barely registered the beauty of the scene before the ship jolted forward with terrifying ferocity. The sudden acceleration pinned him against the back of his seat, and then, without warning, the ship shot upwards, transitioning into a steep, nearly vertical ascent. His stomach lurched as gravity seemed to double its pull on him. The seatbelts, so inconspicuously hidden moments ago, now flapped wildly about. The cabin transformed into a chaotic maelstrom. The ship slowed suddenly and then lost altitude, lifting them from their seats and sending them into the air. Jace flailed desperately, hands grasping at nothing but empty space. The ship surged forward and up again, twisting and turning as if it had come alive with a mind of its own. Jace¡¯s vision blurred, the world a swirl of motion and sound. The ship looped in a full circle, his body weightless for a heart-stopping moment before being slammed back down by the relentless force. Dex managed to grasp a seatbelt, and with a quick motion, helped Ell stabilize herself. Through the pandemonium, Jace caught sight of Alice. She was suspended in mid-air, her long hair having come undone, whipping around her face. Her eyes were wide with fear, arms reaching out desperately. He could see her lips moving, perhaps calling his name, but the roar of the winds drowned out all other sounds. Alice¡¯s body twisted in the air, her fingers brushing against the seats, failing to find purchase. With a sickening thud, Jace and Alice collided, eyes wide and faces inches apart, the impact knocking the wind out of them both. The ship continued its frenzied climb, the walls and ceiling blurring together as it spiraled. Every lurch, every twist sent waves of panic through them. Jace¡¯s muscles burned from the strain of trying to control his own body, to find some stability in the madness. The air was filled with the blare of straining engines. Jace tightened his grip on Alice, using his knees to push against the wall, shielding her from the worst of the impacts and pressure. Finally, the ship began to level out, the pressure easing as gravity resumed its hold. Each in turn slowly regained their footing, nursing bruises and shaking off the disorientation. Jace and Alice untangled themselves, breathless and shaken. When they looked at each other, a blush crept up Alice''s cheeks, mirrored by the flush on Jace''s face. The clouds parted like a theater curtain, revealing a dreamscape of rolling skies and endless horizons. Hills and trees emerged, seemingly adrift on an island of mist, floating in the vastness beyond. The ship slowed, and Jace¡¯s heart pounded in sync with the rhythmic hum of the engines. "Approaching Mount Olympus Sky Dock. Passengers prepare to disembark. We know you have many options for your travel needs, and we appreciate you choosing Olympian Airways. Have a fine stay, and we hope to see you again soon." A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. The ship glided into the docking platform with a soft shudder. Jace clung to the wall of the compartment, his vision swimming as the dizziness from the ascent ebbed away. A sharp hiss announced the release of the ship''s air pressure, and the doors parted with a smooth whoosh, revealing a platform teeming with life. High, vaulted ceilings stretched above, adorned with intricate mosaics that depicted epic battles and legendary figures. A colossal relief spelled out "Mt. Olympus Sky Dock" in elegant ancient Greek lettering, beside which a stone phoenix stood guard, its eyes glinting with golden fire. Jace stepped off the ship, the void yawning beneath the narrow bridge that stretched toward the platform, a thin thread between worlds. He tread carefully, the abyss below hinting at a fall that felt as if it would stretch into eternity. As his foot met solid ground, the air crackled with energy¡ªvivid, almost tangible¡ªswirling around him like a storm of unseen colors, teasing his senses awake. The air was rich with the mingling scents of exotic foods from vendor carts, their bright canopies flapping in a gentle breeze. Excited conversations and bursts of laughter reverberated off the mosaic walls, creating a symphony of student life. Dex, Ell, and Alice were immediately swept up in the crowd, leaving Jace to his own devices. Dex already bantering with a group of students who seemed equally mischievous. Alice vanished into thin air. Jace felt a pang of isolation. He drifted through the crowd, the vibrant colors of the dock pulsing around him. His eyes landed on a quaint shop with a sign that read "Bits and Bobs," where strange but familiar wares spilled from its shelves in a chaotic display. As he stepped inside, a clerk greeted him with a smile that barely moved as he spoke. ¡°Looking for something specific?" the clerk asked. ¡°Just browsing.¡± Scrolls glowing faintly with embedded enchantments were neatly stacked beside trinkets that hummed softly, pulsating with unseen energy. Jace''s attention was drawn to a wooden drawer filled with small orbs, each no bigger than a marble. He picked one up, its surface swirling with colors that seemed to shift and dance, drawing him in. He felt a gentle warmth emanate from it, as if it held a tiny piece of the sun. The orb began to hover slightly above his palm, spinning faster and faster until it projected a constellation of stars around him, each one twinkling with a magical brilliance. Lines formed between the brightest stars, morphing into the image of a giant eagle. The eagle let out a piercing caw and dove toward him. Jace stumbled back and quickly placed the orb back into the drawer. ¡°Aquila. The eagle of Zeus. Carrier of his thunderbolts,¡± the shopkeeper said, his voice carrying a hint of amusement. Jace nodded, cringing with embarrassment, and continued to browse. Keychains hung from a rotating display, each one enchanted with a tiny charm. He picked up a keychain adorned with a miniature dragon, its eyes gleaming like rubies. As he held it, the dragon came to life, curling around his finger and letting out a tiny, playful roar before returning to its inanimate form. Next to the keychains, a rack of enchanted pens beckoned. He picked one up, its sleek surface cool to the touch. As he scribbled on a piece of parchment, the pen transformed his writing into beautiful calligraphy, the ink shimmering with a metallic sheen. He moved towards a stand of postcards, each one depicting a scene from a different fantastical realm. He picked up a card showing a serene, moonlit lake. As he held it, the image shimmered and moved, the water rippling under a soft breeze. He spotted a peculiar book bound in dark, supple leather. The cover bore intricate, glowing runes that pulsed in a slow, rhythmic pattern. As he opened it, the pages came alive, unfurling like a blooming flower. Each page revealed a different scene, vivid and animated, depicting ancient myths and fantastical landscapes. He watched in awe as a tiny dragon, no larger than a thimble, leapt from the book and fluttered around his head, its wings shimmering with iridescent scales. Jace wanted to inquire about the price of the book but abruptly realized that he didn¡¯t have any money. Maybe the system generates some sort of welcome kit or starter money. Checking his pockets, he found them empty, save for a smooth silver stone. He pulled it out and looked it over curiously. A small faint tag appeared above it.
Item User Interface Stone Rarity: Mythical. Soulbound. For more information and functionality, please complete the calibration process.
There was no other description. When did I get this? ¡°I see you like that book?¡± the man said, smile widening slightly. ¡°I¡¯ll give you a good deal.¡± Jace pulled out his empty pockets and shrugged. The shopkeep¡¯s eyes sharpened, but he still did not frown. ¡°A trade, then, perhaps?¡± He nodded toward the silver stone. Jace thought it over for a long moment, realizing that he had no idea the value of things here. "Maybe another time," Jace said, already worrying about how he''d handle his basic expenses in Terra Mythica. Would he need to get a job? What exactly did the scholarship cover? He was quickly pulled from his thoughts as a loud voice boomed through the station, summoning all new students. Jace reluctantly left the book, shop, and now frowning shopkeeper, and joined the gathering crowd, waiting for further instructions. Chapter Eight: Snapped Chapter Eight: Snapped
Jace was surrounded by a dizzying array of students and passersby, each one more unique than the last. Elves with shimmering hair that seemed to catch the light in a thousand different hues, dwarves with intricately braided beards and robust frames, and humans from every imaginable background. There were beings with dragon-like scales peeking out from their collars, others with the hooves and horns of satyrs, and even a few with the stoic, towering presence of Vikings. "First time here, huh?" a voice said behind him. Jace turned to see a tall young man with pointed ears, tanned skin, and a confident smirk beside four others, their immaculate, tailored clothes stark against the casual attire of the crowd. One of them, a thin boy with pale skin, glanced around nervously, his demeanor a sharp contrast with the others¡¯ bravado. "I keep getting asked that," Jace replied, striving to sound casual despite the knot of tension forming in his stomach. A fiery sensation surged within him as his fight-or-flight instinct kicked in, reacting to an unknown threat. "Name¡¯s Marcus." He extended a hand and shook Jace¡¯s, his gaze sharp and assessing. "Welcome to Olympus." His attire was a flamboyant display of wealth and status, befitting a man accustomed to luxury. He wore a doublet of rich velvet in deep burgundy, embroidered with a golden thread that traced intricate patterns of vines and leaves. He wore a single ruddy bronze ring on his left hand with plain design, the only thing slightly less lavish about him. Around his neck hung a chain of polished emeralds and diamonds, glinting in the soft glow of the room. "Thanks. I''m Jace."
"Well, Jace," Marcus said, leaning in just enough to invade his space, his smirk widening. "Word of advice: watch who you hang out with. Some people here are more trouble than they''re worth." His gaze flicked to Dex, who was laughing loudly with a group nearby. "I''ll keep that in mind," Jace replied, keeping his tone even. Blending in was essential, and getting tangled in school politics was the quickest way to fail at it. Marcus''s smile twisted into something more sinister. "Don¡¯t get caught on the wrong side of the dock. This place has its own way of sorting the riff from the raff." "I don¡¯t think that means what you think¡­" Jace started, but before he could finish, Ell and Dex strolled up beside him, cutting off the exchange. "Hey, Jace!" Dex called, his grin broadening as he spotted Marcus. "Making new friends already?" Marcus¡¯s eyes narrowed at Dex. "Wouldn¡¯t want our new guy to get in over his head. I¡¯m just giving him some friendly advice." Ell stepped forward, her gaze icy. "Oh Marcus, I wouldn¡¯t take anything from you without a shot of penicillin and some anti-itch cream." Marcus¡¯s smirk returned, but his eyes gleamed with a dangerous light. "Real cute. We¡¯ll see how long that lasts." He turned to walk away.
"Thinks he¡¯s real tough ever since Mythos High," Dex said, just loud enough for Marcus to hear. Marcus looked back, a shadow of malice in his eyes. "But the scared little boy isn¡¯t even man enough to fight his own battles," Dex continued. "Why don''t you shut your mouth, Dex," Marcus spat, stepping back toward them. His friends, sensing the tension, flanked him, ready for a confrontation. All but the pale boy who stayed back. Dex didn¡¯t back down. "Or what, Marcus? Gonna run crying to mommy and daddy?" Something snapped in Marcus, and without warning, he lunged at Dex with a blur of ferocity, shoving him with brutal force. Dex, quick on his feet, narrowly avoided being sent over the edge of the dock platform, his arms windmilling to regain balance. Jace stepped forward, hands raised in a gesture of peace. "Hey, let''s just talk this out. Two stupids don''t make a smart." But before he could say more, Marcus''s friends closed ranks around their leader, forming a wall of muscle and menace that cut off any chance of diplomacy. Marcus advanced on Dex, a predatory glint in his eyes, his intentions unmistakably lethal. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. ¡°Keep him back, Gregor,¡± Marcus called to the hulking brute that blocked Jace''s path. "Stay out of it, newbie. This doesn¡¯t concern you.¡± He turned back to his prey. ¡°You''re gonna pay, Dex. You¡¯re going to pay for everything.¡± Venom dripped from his words. Dex swung at Marcus, but Marcus deflected the blow with a swift, practiced ease. He moved with an unnatural speed, his fist connecting with Dex¡¯s jaw in a sickening crunch. Dex crumpled to the ground. Marcus was relentless, kicking him viciously in the ribs as Dex gasped for breath. Not my fight, not my problem. Just stay under the radar, stay out of trouble, Jace reminded himself, but the thought was already slipping through his fingers like sand. Marcus leaned in, his breath hot and heavy with aggression, and yanked Dex closer to the edge of the platform, forcing his head over the brink. Dex flailed in panic, his movements wild and desperate, but Marcus''s grip was unyielding. With a last-ditch effort, Dex spat in Marcus¡¯s eyes, startling him just enough to wrench himself free and stumble away from the brink. But his escape was short-lived. One of Marcus¡¯s goons was already there, a hulking shadow looming, and with ruthless efficiency, he seized Dex, locking him in place like a steel vice. Marcus¡¯s grin widened¡ªa predator savoring the helplessness of his prey¡ªas he sent his fist into Dex¡¯s gut with brutal force. "Just log out," Marcus sneered. "Pain too much? Hmm? Just log out and it''ll all be over. Log out and don''t come back." He punctuated the words with a knee, each blow delivered with surgical precision, designed to hurt, to break. He pushed him back, forcing him closer to the edge of the dock. "Knock it off, Marcus," Ell snapped, stepping forward, but her path was quickly blocked by another of Marcus¡¯s friends¡ªa wiry figure with a sharp, angular face, his eyes cold and gleaming with a cruel delight. "Out of my way," she snarled, her voice low and dangerous. "No can do, girly," he sneered, shoving a thick hand against her shoulder. With a quick, sharp movement, she drove her knee into his groin. The man grunted, his face contorting in pain, but he didn''t go down. Instead, he grabbed her, pulling her back with a practiced strength that betrayed years of experience. These weren¡¯t just bullies¡ªthey were trained. Jace caught a flicker of something in Marcus¡¯s eyes¡ªa cold, twisted gleam that sent a chill through him. He¡¯d seen it before, back in the real world. The longer he stared into those eyes, the more it felt like reality itself was slipping, making his tiny room above the bar seem like the dream and this moment¡ªthe brutality, the raw, merciless intent¡ªthe truth. Guilt stabbed at him, sharp and unrelenting. Those eyes were built to inflict pain, to take a sick pleasure in it. They were the eyes of someone who relished in suffering, like that neighbor who used to tear the legs off spiders just to watch them squirm. The same kind of eyes that had taken everything from him. Ell struggled to reach Dex but wouldn''t make it before he was sent off the edge. Something snapped inside him in that moment, like a taut wire finally breaking under pressure. He wasn¡¯t that powerless kid anymore. He could do something about it now. And he would. Jace¡¯s vision narrowed, the world reducing to a tunnel with Marcus and Dex at its end. He ducked under Gregor''s arm, shoving his way through the wall of flesh. As Jace broke through, he hurled himself at Marcus, slamming into him and knocking him to the ground near the edge of the dock. They grappled, Jace landing a few punches, but Marcus''s ring flared with heat, searing Jace''s skin. With a savage grin, Marcus grabbed Jace by the collar and slammed him hard onto the edge of the platform. "You think you can stop me, runt? You¡¯re nothing." Marcus raised his fist and pounded into Jace¡¯s stomach, the ring now glowing with a blinding, lethal red. His smile was gone, replaced by a terrible scowl. His eyes, lifeless orbs. Panic surged through Jace. This wasn¡¯t just a schoolboy fight. Marcus meant to kill him. The sound of waves crashing against the cliffs below was deafening, a chilling reminder of the deadly drop just inches away. Jace''s vision blurred as he struggled. Marcus, gripping him tightly, pushed his head over the edge, the abyss below seeming to pull him in. Jace''s mind raced, searching for an escape, any way to stop the impending disaster. He heard Dex''s ragged breaths, felt the crushing weight of Marcus''s grip tightening around him, and then, just as the world teetered on the edge¡ª A prompt appeared.
Word of Power Available Description: A????????????????????n?????????????????o???????????????????????????m??????????o??????????????????????l??????????????y????????????????????????? Would you like to activate Word of Power? Accept | Reject
The prompt showed a glitched message with indecipherable text where the ability description should have been. Jace mentally selected [Accept] without hesitating. Chapter Nine: How to Successfully Stay Under the Radar Chapter Nine: How to Successfully Stay Under the Radar
A word¡ªa word that felt ancient and dangerous, from a dream he had no right to remember¡ªburst from Jace¡¯s lips. The air crackled with energy as pain coursed through his body, threatening to tear him apart. He screamed, his voice raw and desperate. A deafening crack split the air. Marcus''s grip slackened, his eyes widening in shock. Time fractured. Reality twisted as Jace felt an unseen force pulling at his very core. Everything around him froze, suspended in a crystalline stasis. His vision blurred, and an immense power surged through him, draining his essence with a ferocity that left him trembling.
System Error Cannot comply with code instruction, insufficient resources. Attempting to pull from ambient aether.
The system error flashed before his eyes, a glitch in the very fabric of reality. Then, everything went black. When his vision cleared, he was in the middle of a desert, under a high, full moon that cast an eerie light over the vast expanse of sand. The cold wind whipped across the dunes, chilling him to the bone. A shimmering mist moved through the air, glowing faintly in the moonlight. Ruins of an ancient civilization sprawled out around him, their broken columns and crumbling walls a stark contrast to the smooth dunes. The remnants of a once-grand archway stood tall, partially buried in the sand. Its faint markings were worn away by time. The frigid air bit into his skin. He turned at the sound of a low growl, eyes widening as monstrous creatures emerged from the shadows. Their eyes glowed with predatory hunger, their grotesque forms a nightmarish blend of sinew and shadow, with elongated limbs and razor-sharp teeth. Panic surged through him, but his body was too weak to move, his aether completely depleted. The creatures closed in, their snarls growing louder, their hunger palpable. Move! Get up. I need to move! The first creature, a hulking beast with eyes like burning coals, lunged at him, its smile wide, teeth bared to devour him. Jace''s mind raced, but his body remained frozen, helpless. He closed his eyes as tight as he could.
System Error Detected Traveler outside of Permitted Realm. Elevating issue.
The world hit pause, drifting into a fog. Beasts froze mid-leap, as if a director had yelled, ¡°Cut!¡± on a horror set. Reality rippled, shimmering like a cosmic pond disturbed by a pebble. Out of the distortion stepped a kid, maybe thirteen, with the air of a monarch and a grin that knew all the universe¡¯s little jokes. Jace groaned, sitting up. His body ached, head spinning. ¡°What the...?¡± He looked around, bewildered. His thoughts felt like gossamer in the wind. The last thing he remembered was the desert, the creatures, the crushing hopelessness. ¡°Am I dead?¡± The kid¡¯s grin widened, eyes twinkling with ancient knowledge. ¡°Guess again.¡± Jace blinked, rubbing his eyes. ¡°A glitch?¡± He scanned the frozen scene. "Bingo." ¡°And who are you?¡± The boy shrugged. ¡°Names vary. Your kind calls me the AI, others the Primordial or the Infinite. But I prefer Jack." Jace struggled to his feet, trying to wrap his head around it. ¡°Look, you weren¡¯t supposed to end up in the desert realm," Jack said. "Not yet. That¡¯s way above your level and technically it shouldn''t have been possible with your User Interface Stone.¡± ¡°So you... saved me?¡± ¡°Fixed a mistake,¡± the boy corrected, mildly annoyed. ¡°You ended up where you shouldn¡¯t have. That¡¯s on me. Didn¡¯t expect you to try and break the universe. But now you¡¯ve got my attention and it won''t happen again.¡± This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. ¡°Well, that¡¯s... reassuring,¡± Jace said. ¡°So, what¡¯s next?¡± The boy¡¯s smirk grew, warning in his eyes. ¡°Send you back. Just try not to screw up... too much.¡± Jace met the kid¡¯s gaze, the weight of his words sinking in. This wasn¡¯t just a casual encounter. The universe¡¯s fixer-upper had taken a personal interest in him. Did it know who he really was? The boy turned to leave, the ripples of reality fading around him. He glanced back. ¡°Don¡¯t make me regret saving your skin, kid.¡± In an instant, the desert dissolved. Jace was yanked back, finding himself in the station, watching Marcus from ten feet away. Time resumed its relentless march. The world continuing its chaotic dance. Jace staggered back, collapsing to the ground, gasping for breath. Marcus''s fist struck the air where Jace''s head had been, the force of the blow causing a ripple of displaced energy. Marcus glared, confusion mingling with fury. "What the hell just happened?" he growled. The man restraining Ell suddenly released her, his eyes catching something that made him hesitate. Without a word, he slipped away, melting into the crowd. Jace lay on the ground, struggling to piece together the fragments of what had occurred. ¡°Enough!¡± the word boomed over them, ending the fight instantly. Two senior students, their university badges gleaming, appeared from nowhere. One was a tall, red-haired woman, thin, her gentle demeanor hiding the tension in her eyes. The other, a muscular young man with an air of authority, stepped forward. "I¡¯m Rain and this is Sairie. Faculty Aides. What''s going on here?" His tone was sharp, cutting through them like a knife. Marcus stepped back, smoothing his clothes and forcing a smug smile. "Just welcoming the new guy. No harm done." Rain¡¯s eyes swept over the group, finally settling on Dex, who struggled to catch his breath. "You okay?" Dex nodded, pain and anger flickering in his eyes. "Yeah, I''m fine. Luckily, that pussy hits like a girl. No offense, Ell." He grimaced as he stood.
Ell shot him a sharp glare but held her tongue. For now, it seemed that Rain and Sairie hadn¡¯t noticed her participation in the fight. Sairie stepped forward, her expression softening as she reached into her pocket and pulled out an amber stone. It glowed with a warm, healing light as she held it over Dex. The light enveloped him, and with a sickening crunch his ribs popped into place. Dex gasped, the pain fading as the stone worked its magic. Jace tried to speak but his voice would not comply. He started to panic. He could move his lips, but nothing would come out. Sairie finished with Dex and turned to Jace, the stone¡¯s light mending his bruises and burns. Jace stared at the ground, his mind a whirlwind. Despite the healing, he could barely move. His entire body ached, every muscle protesting with each attempt. The Word had drained his essence, leaving his aether utterly depleted. Sairie struggled to channel energy back into him but found little success. Her brow furrowed as she rummaged through a small bag, finally holding out a vial filled with shimmering blue liquid. "Drink this," her eyes searched his face as if looking for answers. Jace took the potion, hesitating for a moment before downing it in one gulp. A warm surge of energy spread through him, revitalizing his aether reserves almost instantly. Slowly, his voice started to come back to him, and he thanked her with a deep rasp. He felt better, physically at least, but something inside him had shifted. It was like trying to fit into old clothes that weren¡¯t quite right anymore. The healer¡¯s gaze lingered on him, her expression a mix of concern and curiosity. Jace forced a weak smile, but her searching look made him uneasy. What was the power I had used? And what was the glitch? He wondered. His head throbbed as he tried to remember it. After the healing, Rain¡¯s attention shifted back to the group, his expression hardening. "This isn¡¯t a playground, and you are not children, though you are certainly acting like them. Unauthorized duels are strictly prohibited and can result in immediate expulsion." He paused, letting the gravity of his words sink in. "You three are to report to the Archmage''s office immediately after the Welcoming Ceremony."
QUEST ALERT Report to the Archmage See him immediately after the Welcoming Ceremony. Mandatory: This quest cannot be rejected.
Marcus¡¯s friends, who had been smirking, suddenly looked nervous. A crowd of onlookers, silent and wide-eyed, watched as the combatants hung their heads. The red-haired girl¡¯s gentle touch starkly contrasted with the stern reprimand of her companion. The tension in the air was palpable, and the students knew they were in serious trouble. Marcus¡¯s confident facade wavered for a moment, but he quickly regained his composure. "It won''t happen again," he said, though the edge in his voice hinted at lingering defiance. The senior man''s gaze remained unyielding. "See that it doesn¡¯t. The Archmage will decide your fates. And believe me, he¡¯s not as forgiving as we are." Marcus''s smile faltered slightly, but he maintained his composure. "Of course," he said smoothly, casting a sidelong glance at Jace and Dex. As Marcus and his entourage moved on, the pale boy glanced back at Jace with a sinister smile. There was something unsettling about him, something Jace couldn¡¯t quite put his finger on. Dex seemed to have regained his carefree attitude. He clapped Jace on the shoulder, using his other hand to flip off Marcus as he walked away. ¡°Don¡¯t let that Malfoy-wannabe get to you. He thinks he owns this place,¡± Dex smiled and waved innocently as Marcus shot a glance back at him. Ell nodded, her expression serious. "Partly because he does. Or at least, his father does." Jace forced an uneasy smile. This is not how you stay under the radar. Chapter Ten: Giant Swamp Pigeons Chapter Ten: Giant Swamp Pigeons
Herded into groups, each led by a senior student, they stood at the barn-sized exit of the station. A woman with deep brown eyes and a stern expression took the lead. Her long, violet dress, embroidered with a gold phoenix, shimmered with every movement, tied at the waist with a gleaming golden belt. The fabric, soft and graceful, swayed as she stepped forward, her sandals whispering against the stone. A large ruby, suspended from a gold chain, rested low on her chest, catching the light and reflecting a fiery glow. Her hair, pinned up neatly, accentuated her strong features, exuding authority and grace. As she moved, the phoenix seemed to come alive, its wings flickering with life, mirroring the intensity in her gaze. Two men stood beside her wearing tunics, one in deep blue, the other in dark green, each embroidered with different symbols and belted at the waist with a silver cord. They wore simple sandals and had their hair neatly trimmed. When she spoke, her voice was magically amplified, drowning out all other sounds. ¡°My name is Demi, I¡¯m an upper classman, and I¡¯ll be your guide. Welcome to Mount Olympus. Please stay together as we make our way to the University. We have a bit of a trek ahead, so conserve your stamina." She led the group through the large door into the open air. The path was steep and winding as they made their way up the mountain. Jace felt the burn in his legs, each step a reminder of his physical limits. Thirty minutes passed in near silence, the air filled with the sounds of nature and the occasional murmur of conversation. The surrounding landscape was lush, ancient stone pathways weaving through ruins that whispered of a storied past. The crowd slowed as they approached a faint, glowing barrier. It hummed with energy, a radiant, prismatic light shimmering before them, forming a tangible threshold. As they drew nearer, the air thickened with a crackling charge, and one by one, they hesitantly stepped through, feeling a brief resistance as the barrier parted around them, enveloping each in its luminous embrace before releasing them into the other side. Demi stood confidently outside the boundary, allowing the students to pass her. "Everyone, gather inside the line. Stay close," she instructed. The new students obeyed, faces a mix of curiosity and apprehension. As Jace crossed the boundary, he tasted a metallic tang and felt a moment of dizziness before his senses returned to normal. "Teaching moment. You are now entering the Fourth Zone of the University. The force you just felt is a monster repellent, designed to keep out the most threatening creatures. Smaller ones can still make it through. Picture the zones as a series of nets or filters. Initially, the largest monsters are filtered out, allowing the weaker ones to pass. As you move into the next zone, it filters out the largest remaining threats, and so on, until you reach Zone One, which is free of all malicious beasts." Demi held up a large, glowing amethyst, its light pulsing rhythmically. "This is a Ward Shard, or Beast Repellent, and keeps us from being eaten alive. It is a minor version of the Great Heart Shard that protects the university. While these forests might seem safe, they are anything but. We use these while out and about, outside of M.O.U¡¯s protections or in a zone above our rank." The stone''s glow intensified. "Now, I will stay on the outside of the fourth zone barrier, and you stay on that side of the barrier. I will shut off my Protection Shard." She chanted an incantation, and the purple stone dimmed and went dark, disappearing into a bag concealed within her dress. The group stood just inside the boundary, the forest suddenly darker and colder, the sun blocked by the canopy of trees. The ground trembled slightly, distant roars echoing through the trees, growing louder and closer. Each one sent a shiver down Jace¡¯s spine. "Here they come," Demi''s eyes fixed on the dark forest. From the shadows emerged a massive creature, metallic feathers glinting in the faint light. Its long, razor-sharp beak and talons seemed capable of rending stone. The creature''s eyes glowed a sinister red, full of malevolent intelligence. As it moved, the ground trembled under its heavy, clawed feet. The air pulsed with a primal energy. The creature unleashed an ear-piercing screech, its wings spreading wide, casting an ominous shadow over Demi. With predatory grace, it lunged toward her, claws outstretched. Demi stood firm, her hands empty. ¡°Come on, you overgrown swamp pigeon.¡± The air crackled with tension as she moved with fluid elegance, each step a dance of combat. "Now, they''re technically called Stymphalian Birds," her tone turned more instructional as she fought, splitting her attention between the metallic winged beast and the class. "And they are pretty far from home. According to legend, they are fierce, people-eating birds that can launch their feathers like deadly arrows. Their dung is also highly toxic, capable of killing crops and poisoning the land." As she spoke, the bird launched a series of metal feathers at her. She dodged them, and they flew toward the students, stopping on the shimmering barrier. Demi''s eyes narrowed, and she uttered a strange sound. The ruby on her chest floated higher, glowing brighter, before releasing a burst of energy. From this radiance, a sword materialized, drawn from an invisible sheath. The blade shimmered with a silvery light, its edge razor-sharp and etched with intricate runes that pulsed with a life of their own. The bird lunged, its claws slashing through the air. Demi dodged with effortless grace, her newly summoned sword flashing as she struck. Sparks erupted from each clash, her movements precise and deadly. She spun, ducked, and struck again, her speed and elegance a mesmerizing display. This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Demi¡¯s blade danced in the dim light of the forest, a silvery arc of precision and deadly grace. Her voice was calm and measured, interwove with each swing. "Creatures and items are ranked by the Metal Star System," she began, her sword slicing through the air. ¡°Rankings range from Bronze to Gold, and Star Ranks One-Six, and then to mythic metals. Bronze One Star, or Bronze One, is your weakest, or most common monster or item. Silver One is an entirely different tier and would be a tough match for someone at Bronze Five, but not impossible. You see a Gold One, run for your life. Actually, you are probably already dead, unless you are in later stages of Silver or with a large enough party." ¡°What rank are you, Miss, Demi?¡± A student called out hesitantly, but she was ignored as Demi danced to the side, easily evading the lunging bird, like a matador teasing a rampaging bull. "Your HUD shows these ranks if you level up your Inspect skill. Be cautious, though¡ªusing items or facing creatures above your rank is risky. You''ll need to rank up to wield them effectively." Her muscles noticeably tightened, not growing but gaining more solidity. Jace was taken aback when the bird lunged at her, its talons scraping against her skin like it was stone. Minor indents marred her now marble form before vanishing, leaving only a small scratch. Demi advanced, her blade gleaming in the dim light. The watching students cringed as one when the Stymphalian Bird let out a piercing screech as it quickly recovered, launching itself at her. Demi dodged, her movements a seamless blend of combat and instruction. Jace could almost see the magic thrumming through her veins, a steady rush of power and purpose emanating from her as she fought the metal bird. Jace watched as her breath fell into a steady rhythm, a contrast to the frantic flapping of the beast''s wings. With a swift motion, she slashed at the bird, forcing it back. The bird lunged again, its beak aiming for her throat. Demi stood her ground, her eyes narrowing. She spoke something unintelligible, some form of incantation, and a torrent of flame erupted from her outstretched hand, engulfing the creature. The fire blazed with an intense ruby hue, its heat overwhelming even from a distance. The Stymphalian Bird screeched in agony, its metallic feathers melting and curling under the searing onslaught. Demi held her stance, her eyes locked onto the beast until the flames subsided. Demi twirled, her sword a blur. ¡°In answer to your previous question, I am a Silver One, having two Words of Power at Rank One and I am in my final year at M.O.U. Gain enough skill and power to pass the Graduation Exam and well, that''s graduation day." With a final, swift slice, Demi decapitated the beast, its head separating cleanly from its body. The creature''s fall was met with stunned silence, then awestruck murmurs. ¡°That was a Bronze Five Star monster,¡± she remarked, a faint bar hovering above the creature¡¯s head. Jace inspected it.
Creature Inspection Success Basic Information Received Stymphalian Bird; aka Giant Swamp Pigeon Bronze 5, Tiered Foe Strengths: Metallic feathers, bronze beak and poisonous dung; Flock Hunter. Attacks: Peck, Claw, and Screech. Status Effects: None Weaknesses: Unknown.
Demi smiled, her breath steady despite the exertion. From the shadows, two more birds emerged. And then another two, their piercing screeches slicing through the air. Jace and the others clapped their hands to their ears, desperate to block the sound. The barrier held back the feathers, but not the noise. Without hesitation, Demi prepared to fight again. Despite her skill, the relentless assault and overwhelming numbers forced her to retreat. With a final, graceful spin, she crossed the boundary, the beast¡¯s claws mere inches from her chest. The protective barrier shimmered faintly. The birds slammed against it, their frustration palpable. They clawed and pecked at the invisible wall, their shrieks filled with rage. Demi stood just inside the line, catching her breath. She turned to the crowd, bowing with a flourish as they erupted in applause. She waved at the beasts now frantically assaulting the barrier. "Remember," she said, her voice steady despite the lingering noise. "Mastery isn''t just about power. It''s about knowing when to advance and when to retreat." With that, she spun and continued hiking up the steep hill; the crowd following behind her. An hour passed, and the pace slowed, students panting and sweating. Couldn''t they have put in an elevator or something? Jace thought, frustration bubbling up. "How much further?" asked a stout dwarf, wiping his brow. "Not too far now," Demi replied, her voice carrying an edge of determination. ¡°Zone two includes a lot of the surrounding areas¡ªcabins, homes, farms, and so on. This is where most of the locals live. There are monsters there too, but they¡¯re lower tier, rarely exceeding Bronze Two Stars. It¡¯s a place where newer Travelers and Terra Mythica Citizens can get accustomed to dealing with threats without constantly dying.¡± "And then there¡¯s zone one, the inner campus. That¡¯s where you¡¯re safe from everything except your own stupidity. The magic protections are strongest there, ensuring that even the most novice of students can study and train without constant fear of attack." Jace exchanged glances with Dex and Ell, who walked beside him. Dex seemed unfazed by the climb, while Ell looked equally determined despite the strain. "Seen Alice around?" Jace scanned the group but saw no sign of her. "Not since the ship," Dex replied. Chapter Eleven: Calibrate Good Times Chapter Eleven: Calibrate Good Times
As they continued, Jace took in the diverse array of students. A short, graceful woman with lavender eyes and delicate wings folded against her back caught his eye. Nearby, a young man with horns and a mischievous smile chatted animatedly with a group of centaurs. The diversity was astonishing, making Jace feel both a part of something extraordinary and incredibly small. Surprisingly, though, amidst the array of magical creatures, most were entirely human. As they continued their walk, Jace couldn''t help but notice the sheer number of humans in their group. He turned to Dex, curiosity getting the better of him. "Hey, Dex, why are there so many humans here? I mean, I know there are a lot of different races in Terra Mythica, but I thought more people would choose something more... magical." Dex chuckled and shrugged. "It''s all part of the System, man. The System analyzes you, tries to predict what would cause the least amount of mental difficulties, the least amount of shock to your system. Some people are just wired differently, you know? Everyone gets offered the races the System thinks they''ll handle best. And if it¡¯s not sure, it errs on the side of caution and offers human." Jace nodded, thinking it over. "Makes sense, I guess." His his device was originally set up for someone else, after all. Maybe human was the best the System could do with the conflicting DNA. Dex glanced at him, a thoughtful expression on his face. "I¡¯ve heard stories from my dad¡ªback in the early days, people could choose all sorts of races, but then their minds started rejecting them. Like, they couldn¡¯t handle the change and started pushing back. It caused a lot of problems, so the System adapted. No one really knows how it decides, but I think it built in some extra safety measures." "Is that why you¡¯re human too?" Jace asked, curious. "Whoo, speak for yourself." He reached up, pulling back a tuft of his messy hair to reveal a slight peak to his ear, barely noticeable unless you knew to look for it. "One-tenth elf." Jace raised an eyebrow. "One-tenth?" Before Dex could answer, Ell, who had been walking just ahead of them, turned around with a playful smirk. "Is he showing off his ears again? Dex, you had elf as an option and you chose one-tenth? Such a waste." Dex grinned, unbothered by the jab. "And lose some of my rugged charm? No, thank you. One-tenth is just enough to have that sort of elven flavor. And it¡¯s not like you went with another race." Ell¡¯s eyes sparkled mischievously. "And what makes you think I haven¡¯t? Hmmm? Are you so sure?" Dex stopped dead in his tracks, staring at her. Jace and Ell kept walking until Dex hurried to catch up, his curiosity piqued. "Wait, you got a human variant race? Which one?" He peered at her closely, searching for any telltale signs. Ell just gave him a mysterious smile. "Wouldn''t you like to know?" For the next several minutes, Dex pestered her with questions, trying to get her to reveal her race. Jace watched the exchange with amusement, eventually deciding that Ell was likely just messing with Dex. Still, a small part of him wondered if there was more to her than met the eye. Demi led them through a dense thicket that opened onto a plateau. ¡°Here we are,¡± she said, waving them forward. They were greeted by the sight of ancient ruins. Up close, the grand vision of Olympus University dissolved into disappointment and confusion. The once-majestic structure looked like a decaying relic. Marble columns lay in shattered heaps, their intricate carvings worn and weathered by time. The grand arches that should have framed a gateway to knowledge and power now sagged under the weight of years, their beauty marred by cracks and missing pieces. What remained of the statues and stones were eroded beyond recognition, mere shadows of their former glory. The stone pathways were overgrown with weeds and moss, hinting at long years of neglect. Jace''s heart sank. This hardly seemed like a place deserving of the title of the top tutorial university in Terra Mythica. The awe and excitement he had felt moments before were replaced by a gnawing sense of disillusionment. How could this be the renowned Mount Olympus University? The other students apparently shared his sentiment, their faces reflecting a mix of confusion and disappointment. Whispers of disbelief and frustration filled the air as they took in the dilapidated state of the ruins. Some kicked at the stones in frustration, while others exchanged worried glances, wondering if they had made a mistake. Jace glanced at Ell, who looked equally bewildered. "This can¡¯t be it," she muttered, her voice tinged with disbelief. "There must be some kind of mistake." Dex tried to lighten the mood with a forced grin. "Maybe the budget''s been tight. Can¡¯t judge a book by its cover, or a school by its lack of a roof, huh?" The reality of the situation weighed heavily on all of them. The grandeur and magic they had anticipated seemed to have vanished, replaced by the stark reality of the crumbling ruins. Demi seemed to notice the mood shift and addressed the group. ¡°Not what you thought it would be? Well, too bad! You are free to turn back now if you so choose. If you wish to proceed, you must follow my lead exactly. Watch closely.¡± If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. She then held up a silver User Interface stone, its surface gleaming under the dim light. ¡°Activate your stones,¡± she instructed. The students followed suit, their stones emitting a soft, silvery glow. Jace took the stone from his pocket and felt a mental pull. He stopped resisting and allowed a trickle of his own energy to flow into it. The stone hummed in response. ¡°Now, mimic my movements,¡± Demi continued, her tone serious. She performed an intricate sequence: stepping left, then right, tapping the stone twice, closing one eye, walking backward, waving it in a figure eight in the air, and turning three times. Finally, she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and opened them again. The students mimicked her, albeit awkwardly. Half of them bumped into the others, their movements disjointed and hesitant. The seniors visibly tried not to laugh. Jace hesitated, feeling a flush of self-consciousness, but then followed suit. Left, right, tap the stone twice, close one eye, walk backward, figure eight, turn three times, close both eyes, open them. Demi''s laughter bubbled up as Jace heard the frustrated murmurs from his fellow first years. When he finished the sequence and opened his eyes, nothing had changed. Demi watched, her eyes sparkling with a playful glint, and a soft giggle escaped her lips. "I was just messing with you," she said, her voice light with amusement. She waved the stone with a casual flick of her wrist. "This is all it takes to let you in." She murmured a phrase into the silver stone, then gave it a casual flick. The stone glowed softly, and a moment later, all the students'' stones lit up in unison. "Access granted." The silver stone in his hand now glowed brilliantly before it dissolved into a fine dust that latched onto his skin, seeping into his pores. He felt a surge of energy flood through him and heard gasps from the crowd as they experienced the same. A powerful force burst from his skin as a light erupted from his eyes, making him feel more alive than ever before. As the energy settled down into a soft glow inside of him, a notification appeared, glowing with a white light on a faint blue screen:
Calibration Process Complete You have completed the calibration and full immersion process. Welcome to Terra Mythica. Current Realm Access Permission: Tutorial, Mount Olympus University, Terra Mythica. Complete the tutorial and Realm Quests to unlock additional features and Realms. For a full list of System commands, please select Help. For System interface and HUD controls, select Display. For all other inquiries, please see your User Manual.
Jace tried to look away, but the prompt followed his gaze, blurring the background. This one was different¡ªmore real, more solid¡ªsince the calibration process had finished. He''d need to explore the [User Interface] options in more detail later, when he had some time alone. How do you close this thing? The prompt vanished instantly. Okay, still mental commands. Nice. The mental commands felt different now, more intuitive. He didn''t need to think the words, just feel what he wanted, and it happened. The ancient ruins shimmered and shifted before Jace¡¯s eyes, transforming from decayed remnants into a breathtaking spectacle of magic. It must have been some sort of illusion magic, because now the stone columns rose tall and pristine, as if freshly carved from the finest marble. The crumbling pathways and broken sculptures reversed their decay, each piece returning to its rightful place with a soft, ethereal glow. And now the air hummed with an ancient power, filling Jace with awe and reverence. Still chuckling at her own prank, Demi grinned as the students marveled at the now majestic-looking campus. There were a few continued mutterings in response to her practical joke, but mostly everyone was preoccupied with the options of the now unlocked interface. The group moved forward, the path now clear and defined. Intricate carvings on the columns depicted epic battles, and symbols etched into the pathways glowed faintly with residual magic. The ruins morphed into a magnificent Grecian structure, glowing with golden light. Majestic statues of gods and heroes appeared, standing in solemn guard. The marble gleamed, reflecting the late afternoon sky. Runes on the stone columns pulsed with energy, casting a magical aura over the scene. Fountains sprang to life, crystal-clear waters cascading down in harmony. Lush gardens bloomed in verdant colors. The structures grew around them, forming a sprawling temple complex. Ell¡¯s eyes sparkled with wonder. "This is incredible," she whispered. Dex was speechless. Another gasp went through the crowd as the sky dimmed behind a total eclipse, casting a hush over the scene. Then, an explosion of color lit up the sky, dazzling fire and magic arcing above the temple. Brilliant bursts of red and gold showered down like molten stars, illuminating the ancient marble and intricate reliefs. The temple pulsed with vibrant energy, its towering columns glowing in the beginnings of twilight. A series of rapid-fire explosions followed, each more spectacular than the last. Blue, green, and violet streaks of light twisted and danced, forming magical symbols that hovered before dissolving into glittering sparks. Smoke of different colors billowed from strategic points, blending hues into a mesmerizing tapestry, catching the fireworks'' light. The show reached a crescendo. A giant phoenix made of golden fire soared above the temple, its wings spreading wide, shimmering with colors. It swooped and dived before disintegrating into a thousand glittering fragments. The grand finale began with the sky erupting into a symphony of light and color. Silver comets shot upwards, leaving trails of sparkling stardust, while enormous blooms of multicolored light blossomed and faded. As the last sparks faded, the crowd erupted into applause. Jace stood spellbound. The campus spread out before them, a blend of nature and ancient architecture. Towers and spires reached towards the sky, connected by stone bridges over misty valleys. Jace took a deep breath, feeling the crisp air. The eclipse passed, and the world was again basked in the warm light of the sun. "Alright, let¡¯s keep moving," Demi urged. The path leveled out, making the walk less strenuous. They passed through groves of ancient trees, their branches forming natural archways. Questions and conversations filled the air as the students relaxed. Jace overheard discussions about classes, the best places to eat on campus, and rumors of hidden secrets. As they neared the main gates, the path widened. Large marble pillars flanked the entrance, each carved with intricate designs depicting scenes from myth and legend. "Welcome to Olympus University," Demi announced as they stepped through the gates. "This is where your journey truly begins. The climb may be difficult, but the adventure is worth it." Ell nudged Jace, her eyes wide with excitement. Jace smiled in return. Chapter Twelve: 鈥淒id you just say 鈥榞ulp鈥?" Chapter Twelve: ¡°Did you just say ¡®gulp¡¯?"
Jace and the rest of the ¡°newbies¡±, as Ell called them, were guided through the expansive grounds of M.O.U. by senior students. They meandered through lush gardens, passed under stone archways, and strolled by bubbling fountains. Statues of Greek gods and heroes stood sentinel along the paths, each one a masterpiece radiating power. Jace could have sworn one statue adjusted its gaze as they walked by. The sunlight, freed from the eclipse, filtered through the leaves of ancient olive trees, casting dappled shadows on the marble paths. As sunset approached, the air was thick with the scent of blooming flowers and the distant hum of magic. The main lecture hall was a colossal structure with towering columns. Massive bronze doors swung open to reveal a vast ceiling painted with murals of legendary battles and chandeliers of crystal. The students filed into the hall, finding seats on polished wooden benches facing a large raised platform. The walls were lined with bookshelves filled with ancient tomes, and the air carried the faint scent of parchment and old leather. Jace sat with Ell and Dex, his eyes wide with amazement. The hall buzzed with excited murmurs that quickly hushed as a figure stepped onto the platform. The man was tall and imposing, with a stern expression, green eyes, and neat black hair. He wore a flowing robe of deep blue, embroidered with silver runes that glowed faintly. "Welcome, new students," his voice resonating through the grand hall. "My name is Archmage Theon Laviette and I am honored to welcome you to Mount Olympus University - a beacon of knowledge and magic. Here, you will be challenged, tested, and, if worthy, become part of a legacy that spans millennia." He raised his hand, and a shimmering projection of the cosmos, stars, and swirling galaxies whooshed above them. The hall fell silent, eyes wide with wonder. ¡°Before the beginning, there was the Infinite Potential, the Great Prismata, and the Eternal Void. Each was bound to the other in an endless struggle. Then the First Word was spoken, a light in the eternal darkness. And thus the first Affinity was born. As the light shone through the burgeoning universe, it struck the Great Prismata, a prismatic force of endless endurance. The First Word''s boundless light fractured into eternity, separated by the Prismata. The fragments became life, magic, and the many Words of Power we use today. The force was so great that Prismata itself was shattered, scattering its shards across all reality, creating time, space, and energy. This union created the universe as we know it today, and thus the Eternal Void was defeated, and our story began.¡± Theon gestured to a table where six glowing crystals lay. "The Words of Power are the breath of the universe, each a thread in the tapestry of existence. From mundane words spoken in everyday life to transcendent, world-altering ranks, each carries a unique affinity, shaped by the caster''s alignment and Shard." He picked up a sapphire crystal, its blue light reflecting in his eyes. "Our Prismata Shards focus and amplify our mana, allowing us to channel Words of Power with precision. By the end of your first year, you will be expected to reach your Second Star in at least one Affinity and gain proficiency with your attuned Shard. This Shard will be your magical anchor, a lifelong companion." The students exchanged glances, whispers of excitement and anxiety flitting through the hall. Theon¡¯s eyes softened as he continued, "Your time here isn''t just about learning magic or gaining power. It''s about discovering who you are, forging bonds that will last a lifetime, and understanding the true nature of power and responsibility. Your journey here will be shaped by the choices you make along the way." Theon continued, "Now, let me introduce the High Council Professors." A towering centaur rose, his presence both imposing and magnetic, muscles rippling under his skin with every movement. "Professor Orion Blackwood, Master of Affinities." Orion surveyed the students with a slight bow, his sharp, calculating eyes glinting beneath a furrowed brow, the click of his hooves echoing in the hall. He then gestured to an elderly man with a long, flowing beard and eyes that twinkled with curiosity, his robes whispering with every movement. "Professor Dranice Thorne, Master of Games." Dranice''s hands moved with a subtle grace. Beside Dranice stood a petite woman with a gaze that seemed to pierce through reality, her presence a strange blend of serenity and disquiet. ¡°Professor Tanner Frost, Master of Shards.¡± Tanner''s intense eyes and the way she held herself spoke volumes, as if she were both a gentle breeze and a brewing storm. Finally, a burly cyclops stepped forward, his single eye gleaming with determination, his skin rough like ancient stone. "Professor Brutus Ironclad, Master of Artifacts and Alchemy." ¡°Now, Society Presidents, step forward.¡± A group of twelve Senior students, their robes adorned with various gods'' emblems, moved to the front and faced the new arrivals. Theon¡¯s eyes scanned the crowd. "You will be assigned to a Society aligning with your chosen deity and natural affinities. For instance," he said, pointing to a student with an owl emblem, "the Society of Athena for wisdom and strategy." Another student, with a spear and shield emblem, "the Society of Ares for strength and combat." And a third, with wings on their robe, "the Society of Hermes for speed and cunning." This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. Theon¡¯s gaze swept over the students once more. "After tonight, you will eat with your Society, you will practice with your society, and you will compete alongside your society in the Winter Olympian Games, occurring at the end of each year, showcasing the progress of the best and brightest of each society. Theon''s gaze grew sharp, his voice carrying an unyielding authority. ¡°Our mission here is more than mere education. We are the keepers of order, the defenders against the encroaching darkness. Each of you carries a piece of that responsibility.¡± He paused, his words hanging heavy in the air. "Some of you come from illustrious academies and noble upbringings, while others hail from humble beginnings. No matter your origin, I expect greatness from each of you." His eyes bore into Jace''s for a brief, intense moment, a silent challenge, before he swept his gaze over the assembly. "With that, I wish you a very warm welcome. May you die and be reborn in the fiery crucible of your hero¡¯s journey." As Theon stepped down, applause erupted. Jace leaned toward Dex. "The what of the what?" Dex just shrugged. As the applause died down, the grand hall was transformed, tables laden with an opulent feast appearing by magic. Platters overflowed with roasted meats, vibrant vegetables, breads, and stews under the soft glow of enchanted chandeliers. Jace filled his plate and took a bite, but to his surprise, the flavors were disappointingly bland. The roast lacked seasoning, the vegetables were insipid, and even the fruits seemed devoid of their natural sweetness. It was as if the feast was a mere illusion, promising more than it could deliver. Ell, sitting beside him, marveled at their surroundings. "This place is incredible, isn''t it? The grandeur, the magic... It''s like a dream." Dex, seated across the table, scoffed. "With all the money poured into this place, you''d think they could afford a little salt. But hey, food is food." He took another bite, grimacing slightly but continuing to eat. Once the meal was finished, the next transformation was just as swift. The hall was cleared with a wave of Theon¡¯s hand, the tables vanishing as quickly as they had appeared. The students were ushered outside into the courtyard, the cool night air a welcome contrast to the warmth of the hall. Under a canopy of stars, Jace glanced around at his fellow students, feeling a mix of anticipation and uncertainty. The journey had only just begun, and already the path ahead seemed as mysterious as the night sky above. Senior students distributed maps that outlined the sprawling campus. As Jace accepted his, a system notification appeared:
Item Acquired Basic Map of Mount Olympus University Would you like to transcribe to Traveler¡¯s Handbook? Yes | No
Jace chose to accept. The handbook materialized before him, hovering in mid-air. Beside it, the map sprang forth. Suddenly, in a flash of light, the map ignited, bursting into flames. Jace instinctively jumped back. For a moment, the pages remained blank, and worry creased his brow. But then, the handbook gently floated down, settling into his hands. As he watched, intricate lines began to trace themselves across the map page, forming a detailed illustration. The entire campus unfolded before him, far larger and more complex than he had imagined. It was a sprawling labyrinth of buildings, pathways, and layers upon layers of structure. There were numerous stores and facilities stretching out in every direction. The depth and intricacy of the map revealed a vast, multi-level university, teeming with hidden corners and secrets yet to be discovered. ¡°Where are our dorms?¡± Jace asked, scanning the intricate map. The campus sprawled before him, divided into twelve distinct sections, each dedicated to a different Society aligned with the gods of Olympus. Every section boasted its own dormitories and lecture halls, forming a vibrant mosaic of academic life. At the heart of the campus lay a vast courtyard, anchored by the imposing Grand Hall and a bustling communal mess hall. A winding path meandered through the landscape, leading to Hero''s Shrine, a place steeped in legend, and the Olympus Promenade, a lively hub teeming with eclectic shops and eateries. To the east, an expansive area marked only as "The Games" hinted at epic competitions and grand spectacles waiting to unfold. Jace noted a few prominent sections on the map: Zeus'' Hall, dominating the skyline with its towering structures gleaming with a golden hue, symbolized the king of the gods. Nearby, Athena¡¯s Domain stood sleek and elegant, with architecture that reflected wisdom and strategic prowess, featuring numerous libraries and study halls. Further on, Poseidon¡¯s Quarter was located near a serene artificial lake, its buildings adorned with intricate water motifs and aquatic gardens. The campus seemed like a realm of myths brought to life, each corner brimming with the essence of its divine patron. Ell shook her head, a knowing smile playing on her lips. ¡°Oh, we aren¡¯t going to the dorms. We need to go to the Oracle Trial, where we get invited into a Society.¡± Jace¡¯s stomach lurched. The Oracle Trial? Already? ¡°But before that, we have a date with Archmage Theon,¡± Dex added.
Quest Update Report to the Archmage See him immediately after the welcoming ceremony. Mandatory: This quest cannot be rejected. That means now.
A glowing line appeared on the map, directing them to the executive section of the campus and the Archmage''s office. As Jace looked up, he saw Dex receiving the same notification. ¡°Gulp,¡± he whispered. ¡°Did you just say ¡®gulp¡¯?¡± Jace asked. ¡°Yes, yes I did.¡± Chapter Thirteen: Asking a Pegasus Not to Fly Chapter Thirteen: Asking a Pegasus Not to Fly
The architecture grew increasingly elaborate as they neared the faculty offices. Gold and silver filigree adorned the doorways. The atmosphere shifted to a hushed reverence, a solemn acknowledgment of the power within the Archmage''s office. Massive double doors, intricately carved with scenes of cosmic phenomena and magical rites, loomed before them. They swung open silently at their approach, revealing a vast, high-ceilinged office. Shelves lined the walls, brimming with ancient tomes and glowing artifacts that hummed with untold power. A satyr, legs crossed as he read a thick, dusty tome, barely glanced up. His desk, polished to a sheen, bore a plaque reading "Assistant to the Archmage." "You can wait here," the satyr said, his voice gruff but not unkind. "The Archmage is finishing with someone. I am the Assistant Archmage." Dex looked down at the plaque. ¡°Says here, Assistant TO the Archmage.¡± ¡°Same difference.¡± The satyr said dismissively. They both sat, deciding not to push it. Marcus stormed out, a sneer twisting his lips before disappearing down the hall. "Dude, what¡¯s that guy''s problem?" Jace asked. Dex sighed, frustration tinging his voice. "Believe it or not, we were friends back at Mythos High." Before Jace could press further, the ¡°assistant¡± looked up. "You can go in now." At the center of the room, behind a massive oak desk, sat the Archmage. He regarded Jace and Dex with a mixture of curiosity and intensity. "Jace, Dex, step forward," he commanded. ¡°I''m assuming you are smart enough to know why you''re here,¡± he began, his tone brooking no nonsense. Dex jumped in, "We were only trying to¡ª" The Archmage raised a hand, silencing him. "Dex, I know your history. Your high school principal warned me about you." Dex''s face flushed. "He started it. We just¡ª" "Marcus is a known provocateur, this is true," the Archmage cut in, leaning forward. "But that does not excuse your actions. This is a place of learning, of discipline. You must rise above petty squabbles. I have over five-thousand students to manage and a staff of four-hundred with enough bickering and problems to last me a lifetime. Please don''t make me deal with yours." Jace felt a surge of defiance, but forced himself to stay calm. Don¡¯t cause any more trouble. Jace reminded himself. Stay under the radar. "We understand, sir. It won''t happen again." The Archmage studied him for a long moment before nodding. ¡°See that it doesn''t. Now, I must officially ask if either of you wishes to elevate this conflict to Council Arbitration?¡± Dex and Jace exchanged glances before shaking their heads. "No, sir," Jace said firmly. "Good. Arbitration involves a lot of paperwork and headaches, and expulsion would be on the table for all three of you. Since this is a first infraction and no one wishes to escalate the issue, I will simply issue a formal reprimand to all involved. A second infraction will not be dealt with so lightly." Before they could protest, he added with finality, "That will be all." As they turned to leave, the Archmage spoke again. "Jace, hold back a minute. I have something to discuss with you in private." With a concerned glance at Jace, Dex left the room, leaving him alone with the Archmage. Theon opened a drawer and produced a small tin, its metal gleaming softly in the dim light. "Care for one?" he asked, holding out a small, orange-filled cookie, its delicate surface glistening with a thin layer of sugar that sparkled in the room''s muted glow. "No, thank you." With a shrug, he bit into the cookie, a slow smile spreading as the tangy citrus filled his senses. "Suit yourself. These are a favorite of mine, straight from the Western Isles. They say the oranges there are kissed by the sun goddess herself during the harvest festival, when the air is so thick with the scent of blossoms it feels like you could drown in it. Quite the experience." Jace nodded, his eyes roaming the room, taking in the artifacts and relics that lined the shelves. A particular piece - a small, intricately carved box - caught his attention, pulsing with faint, golden etchings. The lines moved subtly, connecting to form a cryptic poem, each line replaced by the next as he read. In Shadow and Light Destiny Whispers Beyond the Veil To Face the Darkness As the Phoenix Falls This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. For the Fate of All In Infinite Eternal "Intriguing, is it not?" Theon''s voice pulled Jace back to the present. "It¡¯s is a relic from the last great Convergence, said to contain lost memories of a long-forgotten past." Jace leaned closer curiously. "Have you ever tried to open it?" Theon¡¯s smile was enigmatic, his eyes glinting in the box¡¯s strange light. "I have, many times. It seems to require a magical key or a specific incantation. But, alas, some mysteries are better left undisturbed. After all, not everything that glitters is gold, as they say." Jace frowned, sensing layers of meaning beneath the his words. As their conversation continued, an uneasy feeling gnawed at him - a sense that the Archmage was studying him, weighing each response. There was an undercurrent here, something subtle and elusive. The Archmage''s expression softened, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. In that moment, he seemed more like an old man than the formidable figure he had been just a moment before. "Much like that box, we all have our secrets, Jace." He paused, his gaze piercing. Jace nodded slowly. "Secrets that may be wise to keep, at least for now. There are things about you, Jace, things you do not know yourself." Jace shifted in his chair, the leather creaking under his weight. Theon''s words carried a veiled warning, one that settled uncomfortably in his stomach. "You are here by means of a scholarship. A scholarship based on tests that I personally oversaw and approved with the support of the High Council. My reputation is, to that degree, tied to your success. When your second-year entrance exams come, I expect you will excel. You know the scholarship must be renewed by exam each year?" "Yes, I''m familiar," Jace lied, trying to maintain his composure. "Good. I''ll be keeping a close eye on you. Stay out of trouble and don''t draw any undue attention to yourself." ¡°I¡¯ll do my best.¡± Jace meant it. Still, something tugged at him, beyond the veiled threats and the unsaid words. There was something else, something familiar in the Theon''s eyes. It was a wild thought, but he had to ask. "Sir, are you a Traveler?" His smile widened slightly, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "What makes you ask that?" Jace hesitated, trying to articulate the feeling that had been gnawing at him. "It''s... something I can''t quite put my finger on. Travelers and Citizens, they have a different feel. It''s strange. Maybe I''m reading too much into it." The old man nodded thoughtfully. "It''s true. And it is a rare perception, indeed. Have you studied your Traveler''s Handbook much?" Jace shook his head. "Well, I suggest you do. It may offer some interesting perspectives. But yes, I am a Traveler. And I may tell you my story, but not today. What I will tell you is that it took me nearly three hundred years in Terra Mythica to achieve the title of Archmage and find any degree of acceptance among the Citizens. I am the only Traveler on official faculty, beyond an assistant. My senior staff know me and have worked with me for many years. But most here, including many of the Citizens, do not know my true origin, and I would prefer it to remain that way. Much as I am sure there are things about yourself you would prefer to remain secret." Jace nodded, feeling the weight of his words. Theon leaned forward, his gaze sharp and penetrating. "One more thing," he said, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "During your fight with Marcus, something unusual happened, didn''t it?" Jace''s heart pounded. He felt the memory surge, a flicker of something ancient and powerful. "I... I spoke a Word of Power. I didn''t know where it came from or how, but I did." Theon nodded slowly, his expression grave. "Words of power are not merely learned or memorized. They are discovered, often in moments of great need. A teacher may guide you, but the true understanding comes from within. Some say that words find their Speaker, choosing those who have seen or felt their very essence." "As a Speaker, you start as a Bronze One when you learn your first Word of Power. You''ll gain your second star when you improve your use of that word beyond mere reactionary skill." "Words have two different ranks that show your Affinity with them: Scope and Proficiency. Simple Words replace simple actions but can be very effective when mastered. Like this," He extended his hand and whispered a guttural sound. It wasn¡¯t a word Jace had ever heard, if you could even call it a word. It was more of a feeling and an image put into vibration and wind, its force palpable to all who could hear it. "More advanced Words create wider-reaching effects and can handle more difficult tasks," he said, motioning with his hand, twisting the vary air around him, before he dismissed the currents of power. ¡°As you master Words, you gain insight into new ranks, unlocking new domains of magic. To rank up requires rigorous training and Breath or Aether cultivation.¡± Jace''s mind swirled with confusion and fragments of the moment when he used his Word, as he tried to digest the information he was being told. ¡°Do you remember the word you used?¡± Theon asked, his tone gentle yet insistent. Jace tried to recall, but the effort made his head throb. "No," he admitted, frustration edging his voice. "I can''t remember." "Be cautious," Theon warned. "Using a Word of Power without sufficient Breath can deplete you. Different Words require different amounts of Aether to use. Speaking a Word you do not understand can rob you of your ability to speak even at all. Push too far, and the consequences can be dire.¡± He paused, letting the weight of silence hang in the air. ¡°Jace, it tears at the soul, and fractures the mind. Many have gone mad for less." Jace felt a chill settle over him. "Don''t seek the Word out," the Archmage continued. "It will come to you when you are ready to speak it again. Build your strength. Learn to manage your Breath. You won''t reach the sky by jumping, but by building a tower.¡± Beginning with an advanced Word might seem exciting, but it is a double-edged sword. You will have to train even harder and push past your limits. We are limited by the depth of our Aether. One must grow one''s lungs, so to speak.¡± His voice regained its pleasant, official tone. ¡°Now, you better get going. The Oracle Trial should be starting soon. You will want to find out which Society you belong to.¡± The Archmage, traces of the old man vanished, now wore an air of polite formality, his gaze brooking no nonsense. He gave a curt nod, signaling the end of their meeting. Jace turned and walked out, his mind racing. As the heavy doors closed behind him, he glanced at Dex, who was waiting in the hallway. "What did he say?" Dex asked, his curiosity barely contained. "To keep out of trouble." "Just that? Might as well ask a pegasus not to fly." Jace hoped Dex was wrong, but knew this would be harder than he had thought.
Quest Update Report to the Archmage. Quest Complete. You survived an encounter with the Archmage and didn¡¯t get expelled. Go you Reward: You get to keep living a lie. Not being expelled, maimed, or dragged into the abyss is reward enough.
Chapter Fourteen: Thirteen Banners Chapter Fourteen: Thirteen Banners
Jace and Dex stepped outside, joining the stream of freshmen flowing through the campus grounds. As they walked, Ell appeared beside them, seemingly out of nowhere. ¡°Still here, huh?¡± Ell said with a smirk, directing her comment at Dex. ¡°I swear, Dex, I¡¯m going to start a pool on how many times you can dodge getting kicked out of here before you earn your fourth star.¡± Dex laughed. ¡°I¡¯m a master of survival, Ell.¡± Ell grabbed Dex''s arm as a surge of the crowd pushed them ahead. Jace struggled to keep up, weaving through the mass of students. ¡°We¡¯ll catch up with you later!¡± Ell called out over her shoulder as they were swept further in the current of the crowd. Jace slowed his pace, glancing around. He looked for Alice, but she was still nowhere to be found. The courtyard plaza was a tapestry of colors and textures, blending smooth marble tiles with rough cobblestones, all illuminated by glowing amber orbs set high in ornate lamps. The fountain at its center was a glittering spectacle, with streams of water arcing gracefully into the air and cascading down in an endless, mesmerizing cycle. Moonlight filtered through the droplets, making them shimmer like precious jewels. But the true marvel of this fountain wasn''t its size or intricate design but the statue at its heart; a magnificent sculpture of Aphrodite, carved from pure white marble. The goddess of love stood poised, leaning forward with a seductive grace, her bare breasts exposed as she washed her hair. The water flowed over her smooth, flawless form, accentuating every curve and adding a touch of ethereal beauty to her already captivating presence. The chatter of students mixed with the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze. Aphrodite¡¯s mischievous eyes seemed to tease the viewer with an enigmatic allure that hinted at secrets only the most daring could uncover. As Jace looked around, he caught the eye of a woman in the distance staring in his direction. Her long, wavy hair shimmered like spun gold, and her piercing blue eyes locked onto his. She smiled, a fleeting but radiant smile that made his heart skip a beat. He tried to wave subtly, and she giggled. He could swear it sounded like wind chimes in the distance. She made a follow-me gesture with her hands. Jace couldn¡¯t believe it. He looked around quickly to make sure she was actually gesturing to him. But when he turned back, she was gone, leaving him momentarily breathless and confused. "Nymphs, my man," a deep, masculine voice said. Jace turned, but no one was speaking to him. "Down here," the voice insisted. Jace looked down to see a short gnome standing beside him, wearing a tall blue hat adorned with silver beads. Jace took a step back, grateful he hadn''t accidentally stepped on the small figure. The gnome grinned, revealing a set of perfectly white teeth. "Nearly impossible to catch, those nymphs. Nearly. But I''m still hopeful." Jace blinked, trying to process what he was seeing. "Who¡ª?" "The name¡¯s Thistle, Society of Ares," the gnome interrupted, extending a hand. Jace hesitantly took it, a thought striking him. ¡°Hey, I don¡¯t mean to be rude, but are you¡­¡± He let the sentence hang for a few uncomfortable seconds, then leaned in to whisper, ¡°real?¡± Thistle laughed heartily. ¡°You mean, do I have to take a piss when I log out? Yeah. But I¡¯d be careful about tossing that word around. Better to use Traveler for players and Citizen for the locals. Rumor has it the AI doesn''t like the real/not-real distinction. Besides, what¡¯s real, really? It¡¯s all subjective, my man.¡± Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. Jace shrugged and nodded to his point. ¡°Oh, sorry. I¡¯ll keep that in mind,¡± Jace said. ¡°Don¡¯t sweat it. I made the same mistake a bunch of times in my first year. It¡¯s my second year here, but I had some¡­ complications come up out of game last years and didn¡¯t get to advance. So, I¡¯m taking the first year again.¡± Jace nodded, ¡°I¡¯m Jace.¡± ¡°I know. It¡¯s on your name tag.¡± Jace looked down, startled, but saw nothing. Thistle chuckled. ¡°Not that type of name tag. Only the faculty can see it. I can see it because I¡¯m one of the Faculty Aides, assigned to help the noobs.¡± He reached out and tapped something in the air in front of Jace¡¯s chest. ¡°Says on your profile you¡¯re here on scholarship. Gotta say, don¡¯t see too many of you around. Golden ticket winner, huh? Must have been pretty impressive on your entrance exams. Never seen a full ride before.¡± Jace nodded slowly, still somewhat dazed by the encounter with the nymph, when trumpets blared. ¡°Oh, it''s about to start.¡± Thistle looked forward. The students gathered around the fountain. Advancing toward the centerpiece was the same girl in the purple dress who had introduced them to the grounds. Was it Demi? Jace was going to need to keep a log or something of everyone¡¯s name. She stepped into the middle of the fountain¡¯s flowing waters, instantly drenching her from head to toe and making her dress cling to her body. She kept her face focused, seeming not to notice the effect she was having on much of the crowd. This time her voice was quiet as she leaned in to Aphrodite¡¯s ear and whispered something, like a lovers secret. The marble figure shifted and relaxed. Aphrodite''s stone lips curved into a teasing smile, and she gracefully stepped aside. The once-brimming fountain transformed as the water spiraled into a vortex, creating a mesmerizing whirlpool. Jace leaned forward, trying to get a better view, while Thistle grumbled beside him about never getting to see this part. ¡°Be a gnome, they said. It¡¯ll be epic, they said.¡± ¡°Want to get on my shoulders?¡± Jace offered, seeing Thistle¡¯s struggle. Thistle hesitated, but then nodded. Jace hoisted the gnome onto his shoulders. They watched as the vortex formed stone steps, spiraling down into the darkness below. Demi gestured for everyone to follow her, and the group began their descent. As they walked down the winding staircase, small reliefs on the walls came alive. Thistle pointed out various figures, explaining in a hushed voice. "These are some of the academy¡¯s alumni. Legends and heroes who once walked these halls," he said. Jace marveled at the moving reliefs, some depicting epic battles, others showing tender moments of love. One carving even showed a couple locked in a passionate embrace, their figures moving entwined. At the bottom of the stairs, they stepped into a dimly lit hall, its shadows softened by the warm glow of amber lights that flickered gently, casting dancing patterns on the walls. The air was thick with the mingled scents of incense and old stone, carrying a hint of something ancient and powerful. Thirteen massive banners lined the walls, each bearing the symbol of an Olympian god, and fluttering gently, as if stirred by an unseen breeze. The hall was a tapestry of colors, each banner with a group of people standing beneath it, their attire coordinated to represent their chosen deity. To the left, the vibrant blues of Poseidon flowed like the ocean, the students beneath it adorned in sea-green and deep blue robes, their hair decorated with shells or pearls. Next to them, the rich golds of Apollo gleamed, students in golden-yellow attire radiating warmth and confidence, their faces illuminated by an inner light. Further along, the dark reds of Ares dominated their section, the students exuding strength and intensity, their red and black garb making them seem ready for battle. Beside them, the earthy greens and browns of Demeter''s followers gave a sense of calm and growth, their simple, natural clothes reflecting a deep connection to the earth. In the center of the hall, the white and silver of Zeus shone brightly, students standing tall and proud, their white robes flowing like storm clouds. Adjacent to them, the shimmering silvers and blues of Artemis gathered, students looking serene and focused, their attire reflecting the moonlit forests. Nearby, the passionate reds and pinks of Aphrodite sparkled, the students'' elegant clothes and accessories enhancing their natural allure. Then there was a banner for the combined Society of Dionysus and Hestia. Its members dressed in a motley of oranges and browns, their section giving off a sense of home and hearth, juxtaposed with wine and revelry. Hermes'' area buzzed with energy, students in green and yellow, their eyes bright with mischief and curiosity. The students of Hephaestus stood solidly in their section, their deep reds and bronzes reflecting a sense of craftsmanship and strength. Finally, the deep blues and whites of Athena''s followers glowed with wisdom and strategy, the students beneath the banner wearing robes that seemed to shimmer with intelligence. Chapter Fifteen: Totally Prepared for This Chapter Fifteen: Totally Prepared for This
Each banner had its own crowd, animated with anticipation and camaraderie. The only exception was a single banner off to the edge of the hall. It was shrouded in shadow, its fabric tattered and old, hanging limp as if forgotten by time. Jace wouldn''t have noticed it except for the wide berth the rest of the students gave it when walking by. He squinted, trying to make out its details, but the amber light barely reached it. A chill ran down his spine, a sense of foreboding settling over him. Before he could ask Thistle about it, Demi''s voice rang out, calling everyone to attention. At the far end of the hall stood a massive, ornate archway. Demi, her dress now somehow dry and pristine, reached into her robes and pulled out a glowing Ruby Shard. She placed it into a slot on the archway, causing it to hum with energy. Light burst out from the archway, runes glowing across every inch of its surface. The air seemed to inhale sharply, then popped as a shimmering event horizon of black waves formed within the arch. "This is where you will face the Oracle," Demi called out. "Here, the gods will observe you, seeing you for who you truly are. Remember, your family, fortune, and reputation mean nothing here. You will be stripped bare before the Oracle. Perform well, and you will receive an invitation from a god or gods to join their Society. May the gods grant you favor." Jace felt a knot tighten in his stomach as he listened. He wiped his sweaty palms on his robes, stealing glances at the other students, who seemed far more confident. The weight of his past and the expectations of his future bore down on him, making it hard to breathe. He leaned over to Thistle, whispering, "Has anyone ever not received an invitation before?" Thistle shrugged nonchalantly. "Not that I''ve ever heard of, but hey, there''s a first time for everything," he said, giving Jace a playful nudge. "You''ll be fine. Everyone''s nervous about their Oracle Trial." Jace stood among the five hundred freshmen, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on him. Thistle had mentioned this was a small batch for the year, yet the room buzzed with anticipation. This was going to take some time, but once it got moving, it was surprisingly fast. Students would go up, enter the Trial and then reappear a moment after, the entire process happening in mere seconds. One by one, names were called. He watched as a girl stepped out, tears streaming down her face, and declared her alignment with Apollo, her voice trembling yet strong. Each student came out with a different expression - some looked confused, others joyful or resolute. Some wiped tears from their faces. As they exited, they announced their name and the Society they had accepted, receiving applause from the crowd. None cheered louder than those Chosen by the same deity. Jace watched, his heart pounding, as the unchosen group grew smaller, knowing it would soon be his turn. "Maximus Taximus, Master of wit and speed. Chosen by Hermes." Applause followed, mingled with murmurs of admiration. Then it was a young man. His wild curly hair and sparkling eyes exuded an infectious energy. His robes were flamboyant and colorful. Hearing the different students introduce themselves, Jace noticed that many had chosen both a first and last name. He hadn''t realized that was an option and briefly wondered if he should have done the same. But having only one name wasn¡¯t unusual; plenty of students did. It was a bit like being a single-named celebrity. As if on cue, the next student introduced himself with just one name, making Jace feel more confident in his choice. "Hey guys! It¡¯s Drake,¡± he announced, flashing a huge boyish grin to the crowd. ¡°Chosen of Dionysus. Let''s party!" The room erupted into applause, cheers, and laughter, the energy instantly lifting as Drake¡¯s infectious enthusiasm spread through the crowd. It continued on like that for some time. People that were chosen by the same god found each other, naturally forming groups. This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. "Alice Candor." Demi called, the name hanging in the air. "Alice Candor." Silence. Eyes darted around. Footsteps echoed down the stairs. Candor appeared, breathless. "Here!" She steadied herself, approaching the glowing arch. She hesitated, then stepped through. Light enveloped her, a burst of energy and sound. Emerging moments later, she seemed different. ¡°Alice Candor, Chosen of Harpocrates, god of silence and secrets. Under the banner of the Society of Athena.¡± The Society of Athena burst into applause. Thistle leaned over. ¡°The Societies represent the Olympian Gods. Each of the other gods has a place within the Society of an Olympian.¡± Jace noticed that the Societies were broken into internal divisions with a small flag for each. The section Alice joined was more conservative in dress and demeanor. When it was Marcus¡¯s turn to go, he walked with a smug grin, emerging with a blinding flash of white lightning across the arch¡¯s event horizon. He said only one word, ¡°Zeus.¡± The crowd broke into an uproar of applause while Marcus went to join the other followers of Zeus. ¡°What¡¯s the big deal?¡± Jace asked quietly. Thistle whistled softly. ¡°One of the Big Three. Super rare match. Those three are picky,¡± he said, stretching the last word for emphasis. ¡°Sometimes they¡¯ll go years without choosing anyone. Getting picked by a Big Three is huge. And the stat bonuses are supposedly incredible.¡± ¡°Stat bonuses?¡± Jace asked, confused. ¡°Yeah, each god gives different bonuses and penalties to stats, abilities, and unique boons. The bigger the god, the more powerful and focused the boon. But that doesn¡¯t mean there aren¡¯t drawbacks. There can be. Especially if you pick a god that doesn¡¯t really benefit your desired class title. Or worse, one that protests your Shard element. Try being an Amber Shard healer and a follower of Ares. Bad match, and expect your heals to be super nerfed. But a thief and Hermes? Now, that¡¯s a perfect fit.¡± Jace realized he really should have studied more before diving in. He had thought he could just pick it up along the way. Now, he was discovering he was woefully unprepared. He was sure that Alex would have had this all planned out. He didn¡¯t even know what class he was going to be. Dex went next, his mischievous grin never wavering. He emerged aligned with Hermes, the god of thieves and trickery. Ell followed, aligning with Athena, the goddess of wisdom and strategy. The most accepting Societies appeared to be Ares, Athena, Apollo, Hermes, and Artemis. There were others, but their groups were noticeably smaller. Then there were the followers of Zeus and those of Poseidon. Jace thought back to his few years of high school. He sort of got the Jocks and the popular kids vibe from them. If this place had a homecoming, the king and queens would definitely be from one of those groups. Startled from his reverie, he heard them repeat his name. ¡°Jace. Please come forward.¡± Thistle nudged him. ¡°That¡¯s you, bud.¡± He gave Jace a gentle push forward. The archway loomed above him. As he approached, the air grew thick with a palpable energy, the kind that made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. He swallowed hard; the sound echoing in the sudden quiet. His footsteps felt heavy, each step resonating in the silent hall as if the ground itself were amplifying his presence. The archway hummed with a low, almost hypnotic vibration, drawing him closer. Jace felt a strange mix of fear and fascination, his senses heightened to an almost painful degree. The dark light glowed intensely, casting long, ominous shadows that made it appear as though it were the mouth of some great, ancient beast.
New Quest The Oracle''s Trial You are about to embark upon the Oracle¡¯s Trial, a test that will determine your alignment with one of the many gods. The gods are watching, evaluating your every move. Convince at least one of them to offer you their favor. No pressure. Objective: Complete the Oracle¡¯s Trial and earn the favor of a god. Reward: Become the Chosen of a Deity, granting access to a Society. Failure: Fail to gain the favor of a god. Gain title - Godless and Alone and receive -500 to Reputation with all University students, faculty and alumni. Try not to think about it too much. Warning: The choices you make here will impact your path forward. Once you accept an invitation, you cannot un-accept it without severe consequence. Good thing you are totally prepared for this and know the pros and cons of each path¡­ oh wait. Accept | Reject
¡°You got this.¡± He whispered to himself and chose [ACCEPT]. Jace took a deep breath and stepped through the archway. Chapter Sixteen: Oracles Trial Chapter Sixteen: Oracle''s Trial
For a brief moment, Jason felt weightless, as if suspended between worlds. The air thickened and crackled with energy, a tingling sensation spreading over his skin. The world around him shifted. When he opened his eyes, he found himself in a dark, empty chamber. "Hello?" His voice echoed across ancient, distant walls. He squinted, trying to see anything in the darkness. "Interesting," a soft voice drifted across the void. Gradually, the room warmed and brightened. Jason felt a presence behind him and turned slowly to see a woman emerging from the shadows. She was draped in flowing robes that shimmered. Her fiery red hair cascaded down her back, framing a face that was both stern and amused. "Are you the Oracle?" he asked. She nodded, moving towards him with an otherworldly grace. Her piercing blue eyes glinting with secrets she would never tell. "Jason," she said, her voice a melodic whisper that echoed through the chamber. "You are brave to stand before me." Jason swallowed hard, unable to tear his gaze away from her. "I-uh," he stammered, feeling exposed under her scrutinizing eyes. "You know who I am?" She circled him slowly. "I know much about you, Jason. More than you do, perhaps. I see fear, grief, and regret. So much regret. You carry a burden and a dream not your own." Jason''s heart ached as memories of Alex flooded his mind. ¡°What are you holding on to so tightly, Jason?¡± She vanished, her words stretching into the now complete darkness. As the echo of his name faded, the darkness parted, revealing a scene hauntingly familiar. Jason found himself back in the cramped, run-down apartment he had shared with his twin brother, Alex. The air was thick with the stench of mildew and rust, the dim light from a single flickering bulb casting long shadows on the peeling wallpaper. It was as though the past had come alive to confront him. Jason¡¯s breath caught as he saw Alex sitting at the small kitchen table, hunched over his study materials. Despite the grim surroundings, Alex''s eyes were filled with hope and determination. The sight was almost unbearable. Alex must have just gotten back from his shift at Albert¡¯s Hardware store. Jason watched the scene unfold as his past-self stormed into the apartment, slamming the door behind him. The sound echoed loudly in the confined space, but Alex didn¡¯t flinch. He remained focused on his textbooks, unwavering in his resolve. "Do you even hear me?" Past Jason shouted, his face flushed with anger. "Why are you always studying? It¡¯s pointless. We¡¯re never getting out of here." Alex looked up, his eyes calm but resolute. "Jason, we have to believe in something better. We can¡¯t let this place define us." Jason scoffed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "Believe in what? Dreams? They don¡¯t pay the rent. We do. And barely." Alex''s gaze hardened. "This scholarship is my way out. Our way out. I¡¯m going to make something of myself, and then I¡¯m coming back to help this town." Jason sneered. "You''re delusional. No one cares about us. They see us as trash, and that¡¯s all we¡¯ll ever be." Alex stood up, his chair scraping against the worn linoleum floor. "That¡¯s where you¡¯re wrong. It¡¯s not just shit and more shit all the way down. You know better than that. The good doesn¡¯t cancel out the bad, but the bad doesn¡¯t get rid of the good either." Jason¡¯s shoulders slumped. "Why do you care so much about this town? What¡¯s the point?" "Because it¡¯s the right thing to do," Alex replied, his voice unwavering. "They¡¯re good people. They didn¡¯t kill our foster parents. And they didn¡¯t put us back in that place. A drunk driver did that. And hating everyone isn¡¯t going to bring them back. Besides, someone has to take care of my little brother." ¡°You are literally five minutes older than me,¡± Jason scowled, though his mood was slightly lighter. ¡°Jason, they would have wanted us to pull ourselves out. And there are good people here. Lost souls without a chance. But if we were successful, if we made something of ourselves in Terra Mythica, we could do something about it. Maybe, just maybe we could help. Even if only a little. I want to build something better. I know it¡¯s a long shot, but fuck, I gotta have hope." Jason shook his head, tears of frustration brimming in his eyes. "And what about me? What am I supposed to do?" "First, don¡¯t be such a little brat.¡± Alex smiled as Jason flipped him off. ¡°Second, join me. Study, work hard. We can both get out of here. Together. Double dragon." Jason turned away, his voice barely a whisper. ¡°I can¡¯t.¡± Alex sighed, looking at his brother with a mixture of sadness and determination. ¡°You¡¯re not alone, bro. We can do this.¡± They hugged, Jason crying silently against Alex¡¯s shoulder. Alex whispered, ¡°I miss them too.¡± The world went dark again. When the light returned, two years had passed. The seedy alleyway was dimly lit, shadows clinging to the walls like dark secrets. The air was thick with the scent of decay and damp, making Jason''s skin prickle with unease. The leader of a local gang, Rin, stepped forward, a hulking figure with a scar running down his cheek and a perpetual sneer. His eyes, cold and calculating, matched the sinister grin that never quite reached them. This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. "Come on, kid. You want to square things or not?" He glanced around, noting the other faces lurking in the shadows. Their eyes followed his every move. "Your brother has all the keys and codes for the hardware store. We just need you to get in and turn off the security. Tonight. Eight o''clock. We¡¯ll all be waiting. Don''t mess this up, kid. Do it, and we¡¯ll be good." The alleyway seemed to close in around him, the darkness deepening as Jason nodded, a reluctant agreement escaping his lips. Jason had no intention of ever working with them, but he needed the money when times were rough. The money he and his brother made often wasn¡¯t enough, so Jason secretly paid some of their bills without him knowing. Now they were offering to wipe his debt clean if he joined them. Just one job. That night, as the clock ticked towards eight, Jason found himself unable to go through with it. He couldn¡¯t betray his brother like that. He didn¡¯t show up to the store and instead wandered the streets aimlessly until he heard the wail of sirens in the distance. When Jason finally made it home, he found Alex sitting at their worn kitchen table, a rare smile lighting up his face. "No, please, not again," Jason whispered as he watched the events unfold. He stood, like a ghost in the corner, helpless as the scene played out. "Jason," Alex called out, his voice brimming with excitement. He held up a crumpled envelope with trembling hands. "I did it! I got accepted." Jason paused in the doorway, the weight of his guilt momentarily lifting. "Accepted? You mean¡ª" "Yeah," Alex interrupted, his grin widening. "The scholarship. The kit just arrived." His eyes sparkled with a mixture of relief and hope, emotions that had been scarce since their foster parents'' deaths. In the center of the table sat a sleek, silver helmet, smooth and featureless, with no buttons or visible seams. Alex ran his fingers over its polished surface, his excitement palpable. "This is it, Jason," he said, his voice trembling with anticipation. "I can finally see a way out of this mess." Jason managed a smile, feeling a lump form in his throat as he took in his brother''s joy. "That''s incredible!¡± This could change everything for them. Alex''s eyes lit up. ¡°We just missed the enrollment. The next enrollment period isn¡¯t for another week and a half, and I haven¡¯t gotten the official access codes yet but¡­ I want to try it out. Maybe there are some in-game manuals I can start on." Jason was just as excited as him. Alex wasted no time, positioning the helmet over his head. As soon as it touched his scalp, a soft hum filled the room and then vanished. Alex''s eyes fluttered shut, his body relaxing into the chair. His breathing slowed, and for a moment, he looked serene, as if he were drifting into a deep sleep. Jason watched, a mix of awe and trepidation coursing through him. Then, without warning, the door was violently kicked open, slamming against the wall with a deafening crash. Jason''s heart leaped into his throat. "Bro!" he yelled, but Alex was already immersed in the game. Desperation surged through Jason as he ripped the helmet from Alex''s head. Alex screamed, his eyes snapping open, unfocused and glassy. For a split second, there was an odd, distant look in his eyes, as if a part of him was still elsewhere. He shook his head, trying to clear the fog, and blinked rapidly to focus on the surrounding chaos. The gang leader, flanked by his men, stormed into the cramped apartment. Their faces were masks of rage, their eyes dark with anger. The leader''s scarred face twisted into a sneer as he looked back and forth between the brothers. ¡°Double trouble. Which of you is Jason and which is Alex?¡± Without even a glance between them, they both answered, ¡°I¡¯m Jason.¡± "Real fucking cute. We just have to beat the shit out of both of you," he spat, grabbing Jason by the collar and yanking him forward. Jason barely had time to react before the first blow landed, a sharp punch to his gut that left him gasping for air. Another punch followed, then another, each one more brutal than the last. The pain was immediate and overwhelming, radiating through his body with every strike. "Stop it!" Alex''s voice cut through the haze of pain. He lunged at Rin, trying to pull him off Jason. "Leave him alone!" One of Rin''s thugs, a wiry man with a snake tattoo winding up his neck, backhanded Alex, sending him sprawling to the floor. Alex scrambled back up, blood trickling from his lip, his eyes blazing with protective fury. "Jason, get out of here!" ¡°Hey, look what we¡¯ve got here?¡± another thug said, grabbing the VR kit. ¡°Put that thing back, Kyle. For fuck''s sake. You don¡¯t mess with Excelsior¡¯s tech,¡± growled a hulking brute with muscles straining against his shirt. Rin added, "Yeah, my uncle tried to steal one once. Spent the rest of his life eating through a straw. Shit will fry your brains.¡± The brute dropped it to the floor. He stomped on it, bending the sleek metal inward. Alex pushed himself up again, eyes fierce with unyielding determination. "Now''s your chance, Alex! Run!" Jason tried to stand to fight, but his legs buckled under the relentless assault. He watched in horror as the gang turned their attention to Alex, their fists and feet a blur of violence. Alex fought back with everything he had, but he was outnumbered and overpowered. "No! Stop!" Jason screamed, his voice cracking with desperation. He reached out, his fingers brushing against Alex¡¯s outstretched hand before another blow knocked him back. Alex¡¯s cries of pain echoed through the apartment, each one tearing at Jason¡¯s heart. The gang¡¯s leader kicked Alex in the ribs, the sickening crunch of bone audible even over the chaos. Blood splattered across the linoleum floor, mingling with the dirt and grime. "Leave him alone!" Jason¡¯s voice was a raw, anguished plea, but the gang showed no mercy. Alex¡¯s movements grew weaker, his attempts to protect Jason faltering as the beating continued. The light in his eyes dimmed, replaced by a haunting emptiness. With one final, brutal kick to the head, Alex¡¯s body went limp, collapsing in a heap. The gang leader wiped the blood from his knuckles, a satisfied smirk on his face. "That¡¯s what happens when you mess with us," he growled, casting a disdainful glance at Jason and starting toward him. A loud boom shot through the room as a buckshot burst into the fridge. In the doorway stood their neighbor and owner of Albert¡¯s Hardware Goods. He was wearing a bathrobe, with a shotgun, slippers and disheveled chestnut hair. ¡°I don¡¯t know who the fuck you are, but you have until the count of ¡®one¡¯ to get the fuck out of here. I won¡¯t ask again.¡± He fired another shot just above their heads. ¡°One.¡± The gang retreated, their footsteps echoing in the silence that followed. Jason crawled to his brother¡¯s side, his vision blurred by tears. He cradled Alex¡¯s head in his lap, his hands shaking. "Alex, no," he whispered, his voice choked with grief. "Please, don¡¯t leave me. I¡¯m sorry. I¡¯m so sorry." Albert took in the gruesome sight and immediately called the police. It would take forty-five minutes before they arrived. Another ten before Alex would be taken to the ER. The room closed in around Jason; the walls pressing in, suffocating him. The smell of blood and sweat was overwhelming, mingling with a bitter taste that filled his mouth. The darkness enveloped him once more. Chapter Seventeen: Chosen Chapter Seventeen: Chosen
Jason now stood watching himself stand numbly in the harsh sterility of the hospital, as the fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting a cold glow on the floor. The rhythmic beeping of monitors mingled with distant announcements from the nurses'' station created a symphony of clinical sounds. He stood at the threshold of a hospital room, his heart heavy. Inside, his brother lay motionless, a tangle of tubes and wires connecting him to life-support machines. His pale face was a stark contrast to the vibrant person he once knew, eyes closed in an unending sleep, the gentle rise and fall of his chest the only indication of life. A doctor approached, clipboard in hand, his expression a blend of sympathy and resignation. "Your brother''s condition is... beyond what we can manage here," he said, hesitating. ¡°The Stasis System will keep him alive, but without advanced tech intervention... he will never wake up.¡± The advanced treatment would cost 800,000 credits. Jason recalled the holos of the sky turning a sickly orange after the Great War, the air heavy with the acrid smell of burning cities. The relentless famine that followed gnawed away at communities, leaving behind only husks of what once were thriving towns. The war had been far worse than anyone could have imagined, nearly wiping away the 20 billion people on Earth. Famine struck next, devastating the survivors. Many good-hearted individuals poured their fortunes into relief efforts, but when that proved insufficient, governments turned to the largest industries and tycoons, taxing them heavily with massive fines and penalties. At first, the tycoons managed to survive and adapt, but soon even their resources were depleted. Businesses collapsed, poverty swept the globe, and life deteriorated for everyone. The wealthiest, with their remaining fortunes reduced to mere pittance, went into hiding, trying to preserve what little they had left for their families. Crippling taxes had turned even the wealthiest families into paupers. Innovation had ground to a halt. And forty years went by in silence. Then, the game appeared. Twenty years ago, John Rearden, a gas station worker, invented and founded Excelsior Deep Dive VR, a technology light-years ahead of anything seen before. He quickly became one of the last wealthy men on the planet, building an empire from the ashes. He started buying land, factories, and farms. They got into production again and the quality of life started to improve, subtly. It wasn¡¯t much, but it was something. The most powerful players in the game became highly sought after, earning substantial sums for their crafting and raiding skills. In-game gold could be exchanged for real-world currency, offering a potential lifeline. There were no taxes in the game, and it became so important that real-world finances started to tie in. In the game, anyone could make a career, join a powerful guild, or become a successful artisan. The game functioned on a 42-to-1 time dilation, greatly increasing the quality of life for those who could afford access. The time dilation meant that a month''s work in-game could fit into a day. And above that, it was the only place where people could live truly well. However, people still needed to keep the real world functioning, and there were a limited number of tickets each year to join the game. Rumors spread that with enough money and influence, one could bypass the line, as many of the wealthiest had done. The rest needed to compete for scholarships or wait for the annual lottery. People worked hard every year to earn acceptance into the game and a scholarship to one of the Tutorial Universities. Many had tried for nearly 20 years without success. He gazed at his brother, determination hardening his resolve. If the game held the key to saving him, then into the game he would go, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead to secure the future they both deserved. Getting in could change their lives forever.
The scene shifted to another memory. He was back in their apartment, alone. Days had passed since the attack. The gang hadn¡¯t returned. Jason assumed they were lying low, biding their time. But the damage was done. After the police left, the silence in the apartment was almost deafening. Part of him wanted Rin and his goons to come back to finish the job. Another part couldn''t stomach the thought of leaving the place where he had grown up with Alex. He sat there for days, the weight of loss pressing down on him. With no food, he survived by drinking from the dirty tap, the metallic taste of the water a bitter reminder of his helplessness. Rent was due in a week. He had nothing. The loneliness was suffocating, each second stretching into an eternity. His mind was a whirlwind of grief and guilt. A few days later, a knock at the door tugged Jason from his stupor. It was Albert. He stood there, a worn-out look on his face, offering Jason a place to stay. He didn¡¯t try to soothe Jason or apologize for the loss or his inability to help cover the needed medical treatment. Jason knew Albert was barely surviving on the store''s meager earnings, just as trapped as the rest of them. The whole town probably didn¡¯t have enough between them to even cover the equipment needed for the operation. Jason barely registered Albert''s words. He shook his head, declining the offer. As Albert turned to leave, he handed Jason a roll of bills. ¡°Your brother didn¡¯t pick up his last paycheck. I¡¯ve added something for you.¡± With that, he left without another word, the creak of the door closing behind him echoing in the silent room. A few more days passed in a blur of sorrow. Then, another knock at the door. This time, it was a deliveryman, holding an envelope. Jason stared at it, uncomprehending, until the man handed it over. "Sign here," he said, his voice just another sound in the uneasy silence. Jason scrawled his name and took the envelope and returned to his bed. He held the envelope with trembling hands. The letter inside bore the emblem of Excelsior, an intricate design that shimmered subtly in the light. He unfolded the paper.
"Dear Mr. Roalander, Congratulations on your acceptance into Mount Olympus University. By now, you should have received your state-of-the-art, latest edition VR kit. This kit is yours to keep and will not be reissued in case of loss or damage. We hope you have had a chance to explore the entrance hall and get accustomed to the controls. We thank you again for applying and were very impressed with your entrance exam results. A world of magic and wonder awaits you. Please find a slip inside. It has your code for entrance. Memorize it. It will provide you with official access to Terra Mythica and Mount Olympus University."
Jason''s eyes flicked to the strange slip of paper enclosed. It felt metallic to the touch. Written in neat, precise handwriting was the mental code he needed to gain entry. He read it aloud to himself, committing it to memory. If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. "Ducks shake hands when no one is listening to Shakespeare." He repeated the phrase under his breath, over and over, until it was etched into his mind. This was his key, his passage to a new life¡ªa life where his brother could be saved, and where they could both find a future worth living. Jason headed to the local hardware store, borrowing some tools from Albert. He didn¡¯t explain why he needed them, and Albert didn¡¯t ask. With a day loan ticket in hand, he gathered a small mallet, precision screwdrivers, and clamps, knowing his hands were skilled but unfamiliar with this advanced tech. Back in his dingy apartment bedroom, Jason carefully inspected the dented helmet. He worked methodically, easing it back into shape. Hours later, it still bore signs of damage, but he hoped it would be enough. He remembered what Rin had said about it frying people''s brains. What have I got to lose? Jason thought as he put on the helmet. The world around him transitioned into darkness. For a moment, he feared it was broken. Then, his hands started to form in front of him, illuminated against the void. A prompt appeared.
Welcome, Alex.
Jason quickly took the helmet off, his heart pounding. It felt like he had just seen a ghost. That night, he cried harder than he had ever cried before. The next morning, he made a decision. If this was going to work, if he was going to use his brother''s scholarship, Jason knew he needed to get out of town, far away from any trace of Rin or even Albert. Somewhere he could live in private. What he was about to do was not only highly illegal, but highly dangerous. And if anyone found out he would probably be whisked off to one of those black sites. Or something. Honestly, he had no idea what would happen if anyone found out. But he knew it wouldn¡¯t be good. He took the money Albert had given him and purchased a one-way ticket to an obscure destination, several hours away by Excelsior Rail. Using a fake name, he hoped to bury his past and forge a new beginning. The rail ride was long and uncomfortable, but it gave him time to think. As they passed through towns and cities, the signs of collapse were everywhere: shuttered businesses, abandoned factories, streets empty except for the occasional scavenger. With unemployment at nearly 80% worldwide, most production had ceased, and the economy had crumbled. People were starving, and desperation hung in the air like a toxic fog. When the bullet train finally stopped, Jason stepped off into an unfamiliar town. He wandered its streets, seeking a place where he could lay low. Eventually, he found a dingy bar with a "Help Wanted" sign. The owner, a burly man with a thick beard and a perpetually furrowed brow, looked him up and down. "Can''t pay you," the owner said gruffly. "But the job comes with a room and a meal a day." Jason nodded, relief washing over him. "Deal." The owner extended a hand. "Name''s Teddy." "John," Jason lied, shaking Teddy''s hand firmly. ¡°Let¡¯s get you a meal. Consider it an advance on tomorrow¡¯s work.¡± Teddy led him to a small, dimly lit room above the bar. It smelled of stale beer and cigarettes, a far cry from home, but it was a place to hide and try to forget. Jason threw himself into the work, taking any odd task that Teddy needed done¡ªcleaning tables, washing dishes, unloading deliveries. Jason worked harder, the physical labor a welcome distraction. Days came and went, and he got into a routine. He would work the night shift, cleaning after everyone left. He would have a late breakfast and then eat the uneaten leftovers, when there were any. He kept a countdown until the day of the official orientation at Mount Olympus University. When the time finally arrived, it was just after his shift, and he sat alone in his room. He stared at the helmet, its faint inner light pulsing steadily. "This was your dream, Alex," Jason murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. He reached out, his fingers brushing against the cool surface of the helmet. "I''ll make you proud.¡± Jason took a deep breath and slipped the helmet over his head.
Tuesday, April 21st, 2251, 12:03 AM. Initializing...
The surrounding darkness lifted, and the scene dissolved into a bright, blinding light. When it faded, Jason was back in the chamber, standing before the Oracle. His vision blurred with tears. He no longer cared about the risks he was taking, about the borrowed identity, or the potential consequences. Let them find out. Let them take everything. He just wanted the memories to stop, but they kept coming, relentless and unforgiving. ¡°Do you see now?¡± the Oracle''s voice echoed in the void, raspy and resonant. ¡°You carry the weight of your brother¡¯s dreams. But do you truly understand the burden you bear?¡± Before Jason could respond there was another voice, darker and more sinister. ¡°Interesting,¡± it intoned. The shadows beside the Oracle twisted and writhed, coalescing into the form of a dark, imposing figure. His silhouette exuded an aura of quiet menace, the very air around him seeming to chill. Muscles rippled beneath his obsidian-black robes, each movement as precise and deliberate as a predator stalking its prey. His face was a mask of stern resolve, carved from the very essence of darkness, revealing nothing of the thoughts that churned behind those cold, calculating eyes. The world seemed to hold its breath, every sound muted, every movement stilled. His gaze was piercing, two burning embers in the shadows, devoid of warmth or mercy. The weight of his presence pressed down on the room. The atmosphere grew heavier, the shadows around him deepening, as if they were drawn to the gravity of his presence. The figure¡¯s aura was one of unyielding authority, a stark contrast to the curious light of the Oracle. ¡°Oh?¡± The female voice asked. ¡°Could he befit your domain? You are ever so¡­ prudent with your invitations.¡± ¡°Perhaps,¡± the dark figure mused, his tone filled with a dangerous curiosity. ¡°Perhaps.¡± The dark presence loomed closer. "You think you can handle this burden?" it hissed. "You think you are worthy?" Jason stood tall, his heart filled with a newfound resolve and fury at all the personal intrusions. This was just a game. And fuck them if they thought they could put him in his place. Fuck them for making it so damn hard to climb to success. He would do it just to spite them. "I know I''m worthy," he said firmly. "And I won''t let you or anything stand in my way." Jason thought he almost caught the remnants of a smile on the shadowy face as it vanished from the room. ¡°And the rest of you?¡± The Oracle spoke, looking off into the middle distance of the dark. ¡°He could be a worthy choice for many of you.¡± She paused, as if listening to someone speak, and nodded somberly. ¡°I see. Very well then.¡± She turned back to Jason. Her look was soft, and her eyes hid something more. Sympathy? Hope? "The choice is yours, Jason. Good luck." With that she vanished, leaving Jason alone with a short prompt in his view.
Quest Update The Oracle''s Trial You have received the favor of a god. I knew you had it in you. You have been invited to follow the following deities - Hades. You have no other invitations. Would you like to align with - Hades? Accept | Reject
Jason started at the prompt for a long moment. ¡°What the¡­?¡±
Books 1 & 2 are now available on Kindle, Kindle Unlimited and coming soon to Audible
System Message Terra Mythica Volumes 1 and 2 are now officially live on Kindle as a special, massive book. Find it here.
A Special Note from the Author
First off, a massive thank you to everyone who¡¯s been reading Terra Mythica. Your support has made this journey incredible. Royal Road has been the perfect place to start, helping me transition into releasing ebooks and audiobooks. The latest chapters will continue to be released here, but due to Kindle Unlimited¡¯s policies, the full published books can no longer be made available on Royal Road. However, sample chapters will remain for anyone wanting to dive in. New chapters will still be released regularly here on Royal Road until the story is complete (seven books planned). For those looking for the full experience, including the ebook, audiobook (coming soon), and paperback editions, they¡¯re available on Amazon through Kindle, Kindle Unlimited, and Audible. Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. I have always said that I don''t want payment to be a barrier for people to read my stories. If you do not have Kindle Unlimited or cannot swing the the cost right now, I don''t want that to stop you.
Free Copies Please send me a PM or comment here if you''d like a free copy! I have a limited number available, but I''ve stocked up some to share with those who want to keep reading but don''t have Kindle Unlimited or find the purchase price a little out of range at the moment. How to get a free copy? Easy! Comment here, send me a PM, or reach out and post on my discord here.
Reviews = Life If you have had a good time with this series so far, and want to see tons more where that came from, there is something you can do to help. Please go to Amazon and leave a review. People often decide if they are going to give a book a chance based on its stars and reviews, so your opinion means the world and truly, truly helps. I can''t offer you anything for your support and review other than my eternal gratitude, a place in my heart, and a whole boatload of imaginary goodies, gold, EXP, and infinite cosmic power.
Again, thank you for all that you do. And I look forward to posting the next volumes here. Previously On... Previously On... Let''s see, where did we leave off? Ah, that¡¯s right¡ªJason (Jace) was just sucked into the mirror! What? Not far back enough? Alright, let¡¯s rewind a bit.
The World: After the War, the Famine, and Technopurge A broken world, cyberpunk and sprawling, gridded with remnants of a near-apocalyptic event. Decades ago, society almost disintegrated, collapsing into a Fallout-like wasteland. Famine swept across continents, the technopurge decimated everything digital, and humanity teetered on extinction. Then, John Rearden emerged¡ªa visionary or tyrant, it¡¯s hard to say. He bought the world piece by piece, rebuilding it into a neon-drenched dystopia with the thin promise of hope. Now, civilization survives in a resurgence, clinging to pop culture relics: faded VHS tapes, old magazines, and the detritus of 80s and 90s nostalgia.
Terra Mythica Terra Mythica is praised as a sprawling, immersive virtual world created as an escape for a fractured Earth. Far more than a game, it¡¯s a digital reality where ancient mythologies come to life, each pantheon ruling distinct domains filled with quests, secrets, and cosmic battles. Players, known as Travelers, enter Terra Mythica through specialized devices that place their bodies into a hibernative state, allowing them to spend lifetimes within its boundaries thanks to extreme time dilation. While it offers adventure and opportunity, Terra Mythica is also fraught with mystery and danger, challenging players to discover whether it¡¯s truly an alternate world or something even deeper, hidden beyond the digital veil.
Book One - In Shadow and Light The world¡¯s still grim, but hints of life are creeping back. The Dusts are clearing, food¡¯s less scarce, and the cities, at least, feel livable. Enter Jason and Alex¡ªtwins, one lost in a coma, the other scrambling for enough credits to save him. The credit system, like everything else, is Rearden¡¯s creation, wielded to maintain his hold on what remains of society. Among Rearden¡¯s many enterprises is Excelsior, developer of the Devices. Sleek, wired to no one but their user, Devices transport their wearers into a new digital Eden¡ªTerra Mythica. Here, Jason sees his chance. Before Alex slipped into his coma, he¡¯d secured a scholarship to this new world, a prized ticket Jason can¡¯t let go to waste. With Terra Mythica, he can earn enough to lift himself¡ªand maybe Alex¡ªout of poverty. But as he crosses over, he realizes this isn¡¯t just a game. With a 42-to-1 time dilation, players live full lives within its walls, while their bodies barely age, subsisting on little. Once inside, Jace enters Mount Olympus University¡ªa sprawling campus split into twelve Societies, each embodying an Olympian god¡¯s virtues. Yet one god steps beyond his role. Hades claims Jace as his own, marking him as his chosen. Now Jace must tread the line between light and dark, wielding his unique Soul Affinity and forging alliances and rivalries as he scrambles for survival. There are whispers of something darker stirring, of hidden secrets in Terra Mythica¡¯s core. As Jace¡¯s power grows, he comes to a horrifying realization: respawn isn¡¯t as safe as it should be. He¡¯s not just in a game¡ªhe¡¯s plunged into a new reality, with dangers far graver than he ever imagined.
Book Two - When Destiny Whispers Stepping further into Terra Mythica, Jace is torn apart in body and mind, arriving to a disturbing realization¡ªthe logout function is gone. What was once just VR now holds him, and everyone else, captive. As chaos rises across campus, it becomes clear that Terra Mythica isn¡¯t merely a game. Legends of a cosmic conflict arise: the Infinite Potential versus the Eternal End, two forces eternally warring for creation and destruction. While Jace struggles with the familiar trials of the university¡¯s labyrinthine politics, the Dark One¡¯s shadow thickens. Strange possessions haunt the students, an affliction Jace alone can combat with his Soul Affinity. But this gift is a double-edged sword¡ªit makes him the sole barrier between hope and despair, between those still clinging to sanity and those lost to the abyss. As the Dark One¡¯s influence seeps deeper, friends turn against one another, loyalty fractures, and Jace is forced to make brutal choices to protect those he loves. In a climactic showdown with the Dark One, Jace grasps the Affinity of Truth, realizing Terra Mythica isn¡¯t just some digital trap. It¡¯s another realm, one intertwined with Earth, populated by billions of real, living people. Jason uncovers a truth that shatters everything he believed about his place in Terra Mythica: he is not just a Traveler but the hidden son of Henry, the Dark One¡ªa legendary figure whose thirst for power haunts the land. Originally named Grayson, Jason was spirited away to Earth by his mother, Osira, to shield him from the dark forces that would seek him out. But Osira¡¯s sacrifice came at a great cost. Long before his birth, the game fractured her mind, leaving her memories in tatters¡ªa condition that tore away at her as she tried to protect her unborn son. And thanks to a half-goblin named Bertrude, his birth certificate marked him as Jason, erasing Grayson before he¡¯d ever had a chance to know himself fully. Now, Jason learns the grim reason for his father¡¯s descent into madness. Henry, twisted by grief and a shattered reality, believes Terra Mythica to be nothing more than a game¡ªone he is determined to end. This revelation changes Jason¡¯s journey, casting the abilities he¡¯s honed, especially his rare Soul Affinity, in a darker light. They are not merely talents but the inheritance of a formidable legacy that binds him to the shadow of the Dark One and the force that threatens to end it all. With Henry¡¯s influence growing ever stronger, Jason must decide if he will succumb to the darkness of his lineage or forge his own path. Now, he¡¯s locked in an escalating struggle for survival, facing the wrath of gods, allies, and enemies alike. Tasked with expanding his patron god¡¯s domain, Jace gathers a growing number of Hades¡¯s followers. But just as Jace begins to make sense of his reality, he catches sight of his brother¡¯s reflection in the mirror. Driven by hope, he reaches out¡ªand the world shifts, pulling him into the unknown.

The Prismata Shards From the Infinite Potential, A Word of Power was Spoken, Its Aether¡¯s boundless force, The Prismata Stone was Broken. And thus the Shards were born, Stars scattered through the night, Cast down upon man and myth, To carry on the fight. A Sapphire for the Scholars¡¯ eyes, quick of wit and mind, A Ruby for the Warriors¡¯ might, boldest of their kind, An Emerald for the cunning tongued and Politically inclined, Amber for the Healers¡¯ touch, soothing hearts and mind, Amethyst for the Sages wise, their protections intertwined, Moonstones for the Shadow caste, lost in twilight¡¯s bind. Together they are the Prismata, A single blinding light, Guided by the great Aether, To end the endless night. Prismata Shards and Their Attributes:
  • Ruby ¨C STR (Strength)
  • Sapphire ¨C INT (Intelligence)
  • Emerald ¨C CHA (Charisma)
  • Amber ¨C CON (Constitution)
  • Moonstone ¨C DEX (Dexterity)
  • Amethyst ¨C WIS (Wisdom)
Each shard channels its unique Aether into the bearer, amplifying the specific attribute that aligns with its archetype.

Character Recaps Jason "Jace" (Human) - Working things out
  • Class: Twilight Gaudian, Cleric Specialization
  • Prismata Shard: Moonstone
  • Patron God: Hades, God of the Underworld
  • Word of Power: Soul + Truth
  • Abilities:
    • Soul Mend: Heals wounds by channeling life force through touch.
    • Soul Tether: Links souls, allowing for minor effects to be transferred between connected entities.
    • Soul Sense: Grants perception of emotions and spirits, enabling insight into the souls of others.
  • Traits: As the Chosen of Hades, Jace is uniquely attuned to the boundary between life and death, wielding powers that blend healing and spiritual insight.
Alice (Human) - bookish and brilliant, also terrible awkward and loves the macabre
  • Class: Scholar, Caster Specialization
  • Prismata Shard: Sapphire
  • Patron God: Harpocrates, God of Silence and Secrets
  • Word of Power: Secrets
  • Abilities:
    • Summon Tome of Secrets: Gathers hidden knowledge to unlock new spells and abilities over time.
    • Arcane Detection: Reveals hidden or magical objects and entities within a radius.
    • Veil of Shadows: Conceals herself and allies, blending them into the environment.
  • Traits: Alice¡¯s powers reflect Harpocrates¡¯ influence, focusing on hidden knowledge, discretion, and subtle magic.
Dex (Human with a dash of elf) - cocky, but caring
  • Class: Shadow Dancer, Rogue Specialization
  • Prismata Shard: Emerald
  • Patron God: Hermes, God of Thieves and Trickery
  • Word of Power: Dance
  • Abilities:
    • Dancing Sword: Conjures a rapier and enhances his agility and precision in combat.
    • Evasive Waltz: Increases evasion and movement speed, allowing him to dodge with finesse.
  • Traits: Dex¡¯s connection to Hermes endows him with an agile, trickster¡¯s grace, making him a master of swift, elusive combat.
Ell (Unknown... human, we think) - she''s got a hard, confident exterior but is kind as they come
  • Class: Combat Strategist, Fighter Specialization
  • Prismata Shard: Amethyst
  • Patron God: Athena, Goddess of Wisdom and Strategy
  • Word of Power: Strategy
  • Abilities:
    • Force Shield: Touch-activated barrier that reduces incoming physical damage by half.
    • Pathfinder¡¯s Sight: Highlights the safest and most strategic path to a destination.
    • Spot Weaknesses: Detects vulnerabilities in opponents, increasing her tactical advantage.
  • Traits: Under Athena¡¯s guidance, Ell¡¯s abilities focus on strategic insight, defense, and adaptability, positioning her as a crucial tactician.
Thistle (Gnome) - not been having a good time of it
  • Class: Defender, Tank Specialization
  • Prismata Shard: Ruby
  • Patron God: Artemis, Goddess of the Wilderness
  • Word of Power: Size
  • Abilities:
    • Gigantify: Temporarily transforms into a half-giant, greatly increasing his size, strength, and durability.
  • Traits: Thistle¡¯s abilities reflect Artemis¡¯ influence, focusing on raw strength and resilience, particularly suited for survival and physical challenges.
Marcus (Half-Elf) - bit of a turd, but he''s okay
  • Class: Combat Mage
  • Prismata Shard: Ruby
  • Patron God: Zeus, God of the Skies and Thunder
  • Word of Power: Power
  • Abilities:
    • Thunderous Might: Channels Zeus''s power to amplify physical strength and deliver electrifying strikes, granting Marcus an edge in both close and ranged combat.
    • Stormbound Resilience: Imbues Marcus with enhanced stamina and the ability to endure relentless onslaughts, allowing him to fight tirelessly through the fiercest storms.
    • Bolt¡¯s Fury: Summons bolts of lightning that Marcus can hurl or direct, adding explosive force to his attacks.
  • Traits: As the chosen of Zeus, Marcus personifies the unyielding power of the storm and the unbreakable will of a warrior.
Molly (Spirit Elf) - kinda creepy, but in an endearing way
  • Class: Speaker for the Dead, Cleric Specialization
  • Prismata Shard: Amber
  • Patron God: Hecate, Goddess of Magic, Crossroads, and the Moon ¨C under the Banner of Hades
  • Word of Power: Fate
  • Abilities:
    • We haven''t learned too much here yet. We do know she deals with lost souls.
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Character Sheet: Jace/Jason (Greyson of Roandia) Speaker Rank: Silver One Class Title: Twilight Guardian Words of Power / Affinities: Soul + Truth President of the Society of Hades Attributes Strength: 35 Dexterity: 42 Intelligence: 52 Wisdom: 60 Constitution: 34 Charisma: 23 Spirit Constitution: 60 Karmic Balance: 15 Abilities Pierce Lies Distance: Aura Immune to illusion magic. Aether Cost: None Soul Mend Distance: Sight Heal severe wounds efficiently with 50% reduced self-healing costs. Aether Cost: Moderate Soul Tether Distance: Sight Transfer significant effects between entities over greater distances, including emotions and basic thoughts. Aether Cost: Dynamic (variable with use) Soul Survivor Passive 15% increased resistance to soul damage. Faster recovery from soul-based injuries. Aether Cost: None Soul Severance Distance: Sight Sever connections between entities and their host, dealing significant damage to tethered souls. Aether Cost: Severe Soul Sense Distance: Sight Sharpened perception of auras, discerning emotions, intentions, and detecting spiritual disturbances. Aether Cost: Low Soul Walk Distance: Aura Step into the Astral Realm, a parallel dimension where time flows differently. Move undetected by most beings in the physical world and venture into the Spirit Domain of willing targets. Aether Cost: Dynamic (variable with use) Soul Detection Distance: Aura Sense the presence of souls within a short range, even through walls or in darkness. Detection Range: Arm¡¯s length (increases with Spirit Constitution) Aether Cost: None Soul Step Distance: Variable Phase into the Other Realm, the Abyss, avoiding physical threats and reappearing in a new location. Aether Cost: High (increases with time spent phased) Soul Bind Distance: Sight Manifest shadowy ropes from the ground or nearby objects to entangle and restrict the movement of a target. These thin but unyielding tendrils of darkness latch onto limbs, holding the target in place. Aether Cost: Dynamic (variable with use) Shadow Cloak Distance: Self A shroud of pure shadow melds with your form, providing both armor and concealment. Armor Rating: +40% Stealth Enhancement: +35% Shadow Affinity: +20% Soul Shield: +25% (Protection from spiritual and magical assaults) Aether Cost: Dynamic (variable with use) Aetheric Absorption Distance: Sight Absorb a portion of Aether from defeated enemies, gradually replenishing your reserves. Alchemical Focus (Mad Culinary Scientist) Chop ¡®Til You Drop (Passive) Your passion for culinary arts fuels your EXP cultivation. Bonus: +5% efficiency when spending EXP during cooking. Iron Stomach (Goat Rank) Legendary resistance to poisons, toxins, and food-related ailments.. Bonus: 25% resistance to all poisons and toxins. Willing to Try Anything (Passive) Culinary experimentation leads to unique potions. Bonus: +20% potion-making success when using strange ingredients. Over The Top (Passive) Receive bonus Society Points when exceeding EXP capacity. Trigger Condition: Exceeding the EXP capacity Special Skills & Effects Feast of Fortitude & Gourmet Alchemy Prepare meals that boost defense, resistance, and morale for all society members. Bonus: +100% to meal boosts, improved potion duration and shelf life Sanctuary of Dreams & Ward of Protection Dormitory: becomes an enchanted refuge with defensive bonuses upon waking. Bonus: Protection while resting, temporary defense boost upon waking Soul Bound Star Map Guides you to destinations, even in unfamiliar territories. Bonus: Eases navigation and reveals hidden shortcuts Additional Abilities Dark Vision (Adept Rank) Enhanced ability to see in darkness. Knowledge Absorption (Apprentice Rank) Improved retention and comprehension of absorbed knowledge. Universal Lore (Apprentice Rank) Increased understanding of game mechanics and lore. Resistance to Death (Adept Rank) 14% reduction in necrotic, evil, and shadow-based damage. Mostly Dead - Somewhat Alive (Passive) At 2% health or less, gain a +10% boost to Aether and stamina regeneration. Immunity from Scan, Identify, and Mind Reading magic.
And that¡¯s where we left off in Terra Mythica. And now for Book Three - Beyond the Veil. Chapter One Hundred Sixty-Five: John Rearden, Part One (Book 3 Starts Here) Chapter One Hundred Sixty-Five: John Rearden, Part One
The morning sun painted the horizon with soft strokes of golden light. Birds chirped lazily, bees hovered with mechanical precision, and life, despite everything, crawled forward. John Rearden had been awake long before the world even thought to stir. Four a.m. like clockwork¡ªsplash cold water on his face, a quick rinse to wipe the grit from his skin, and out the door to the Rearden Quick Stop. Nowhere, Texas. A gas station in the middle of a dead land. His father had bought the place right after the War, back when the world still had a future to sell at discount prices. ¡°Good investment,¡± he had said many times since. ¡°People need to drive, son. No matter what else burns.¡± They¡¯d sunk everything they had into it¡ªevery scrap of hope, every coin they could pull together, and even the promise of better days. Outside, two battered pumps stood like sentinels. Relics of a different time, just like everything else. John moved through the morning ritual, broom in hand, fighting against the eternal grime. Filth coated the world, blown in from the Dusts¡ªwhat the locals called the fallout. The War had left its mark, and nothing, not even this desolate station, was spared. The Dust clung to every surface, a reminder that the past was never far away. He wiped at the countertops, but it was like trying to clean soot off memories¡ªyou could push it around, but it never really left. The War had left behind more than just dust and ruins. Famine crept in like a slow-moving shadow, a silent consequence of the world¡¯s unraveling. It wasn¡¯t the kind of war you read about in history books. John was just a kid when it ended, barely old enough to understand. The Unseen War, they called it. Not a single shot fired, but the damage was total. AI, disease, nuclear war, poisoned crops, entire landscapes scarred beyond repair. His grandfather used to tell stories about a time when technology made life easier. Machines that could do anything¡ªread you books, drive your car, even plow your fields. Phones you could carry in your pocket, talking to anyone, anywhere, through invisible wires that crisscrossed the sky. It sounded like magic, and maybe it was. But Grandpa had sworn it was all real. That was before the AI hit, before everything crumbled. No one knew who built it, and every nation blamed the others. But someone, somewhere, had crafted the perfect weapon¡ªa self-replicating, self-sustaining virus. It spread through lifeblood of the world, adapting, evolving, consuming everything that ran on ones and zeros. Its purpose? Simple. To end life as we knew it. A thousand rumors swirled about how it had all started, each more outlandish than the last. Some claimed it was an AI engineered for war; others whispered it was just a social experiment, an AI built with a single goal¡ªa clean, simple formula to smooth out every edge, to make everything fair. And that, quietly, imperceptibly, had brought the silence. The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. John remembered watching a film about that once, a worn VHS he¡¯d unearthed in a dusty junk shop, half the tape chewed up by time. Still, the message was clear¡ªa machine sent back to erase humanity before it even had a chance. Pure fiction, sure, but as he watched, he couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that some truth lay hidden in those flickering images. You¡¯d think we might¡¯ve learned something from it. But we didn¡¯t. We just kept spinning in circles, the same mistakes looping back like a broken record stuck on the end of the world. AI could have been a marvel, something to solve problems, to ease lives. But instead, it was Prometheus¡¯ fire all over again. A tool, yes¡ªbut also a weapon. Fire doesn¡¯t have motives; it¡¯s just fire, wild and strange, bending to the hand that wields it. It can feed, it can save, it can shield us from the cold, saving countless lives. It can kindle warmth and hope¡ªor it can consume, destroy, burn us all. He set the needle down on a worn-out vinyl and the scratchy sound of a forgotten era crackled to life. It was some old blues tune¡ªgritty, raw, with a voice that had seen more pain than joy. The singer¡¯s rasp echoed through the empty lot, hanging in the air like smoke. Outside, the wind stirred the dust and sand, but the record spun steadily, its rhythm a heartbeat in a world that had lost its pulse. John wiped the jukebox, the Dust clinging stubbornly to the rag like it had a claim on the past. It was a family heirloom, carefully hidden by his father during the dark days of the Technopurge. The automations had long since given up the ghost, leaving him to swap out the records by hand. He didn¡¯t mind. In a world where everything was slipping away, there was something solid about the needle hitting vinyl, a sound he could control, even if just for a moment. When John was a kid, electricity was still considered too dangerous, the Technopurge in full swing. You didn¡¯t mess around with tech¡ªnot if you wanted to keep your head on your neck. Get caught with anything more advanced than a wind-up clock? Straight to prison, or worse. Even now, decades later, people whispered about the Purge, about what happened to those who tried to hold onto the past. But here was John, defying it in his own small way, playing a record on a machine that shouldn¡¯t exist anymore, in a place that time had forgotten. A flicker of rebellion sparked in him, small but insistent. A tiny resistance to what was. Yet, beneath that, he knew¡ªthe world was far too weary, far too hollowed out by hunger and time to notice, let alone care. Over the past twenty years, the restrictions on technology had relaxed. Machines sputtered and whirred, pieced together from fragments that gleamed with a faint, alien sheen¡ªas if they¡¯d once brushed against stars. Scavengers with a sharp eye unearthed relics that bordered on myth: helicopters with sleek, worn lines, engines bearing faded emblems of some lost empire. Rumors floated that the old government was stirring to life again, reimagining New York¡¯s hollowed towers, repurposing them into tight, makeshift homes. But the city¡¯s pulse beat unevenly, half promise, half snare¡ªa place as treacherous as the Dust that drifted endlessly beyond its borders. One rule, though, held firm. The line in the sand¡ªthe one that would get you killed, or worse¡ªwas any trace of AI, any hint of the old networks stirring back to life. The AI hadn¡¯t come with guns or marching steel; it had slipped through circuits like a ghost, a flicker in every hard drive, every line of code. Even now, the world treaded lightly, skirting the raw edges of that wound, careful not to stir whatever might still lie hidden, biding in the wires. The world had crumbled, piece by piece, until there was nothing left but a collage of faded memories. His eyes drifted to the calendar nailed to the wall, yellowed and warped, claiming a year long past. Didn¡¯t matter. It still served its purpose. By the marks he¡¯d scratched into it, Thanksgiving was closing in¡ªat least, that¡¯s what he figured. The page showed a feast¡ªturkey, mashed potatoes, a spread that could break your heart if you stared too long¡ªa cruel echo. Chapter One Hundred Sixty-Six: John Rearden, Part Two Chapter One Hundred Sixty-Six: John Rearden, Part Two
John felt its absence gnawing at him, a hollow ache in his gut, mirrored in the pale ghost of himself reflected in the station¡¯s window. He was paler than he should be, given all his time in the sun. His father used to blame their gaunt frames on bad genes, but John knew the truth. Life stripped you bare, left nothing but bone, hunger, and the relentless grit of survival. The War had taken it all¡ªeverything but the Dust. And after a few generations, well, what could you expect? A familiar rumble broke the quiet as a beat-up old car wheezed into the lot, sputtering out its last breath of fuel. John straightened, wiping his hands on his jeans as he stepped outside. He recognized the car, but it wasn¡¯t until the driver stepped out that the years peeled back. ¡°Damn, John,¡± the man said, rubbing the back of his neck. ¡°You look tired.¡± ¡°Eli,¡± John nodded, eyes drifting to the car¡¯s roof, weighed down with a mess of goods strapped under a weathered tarp. ¡°You leaving town for good?¡± Eli gave a tired chuckle, but his eyes were heavy, worn down by more than just miles. ¡°Nothing left to stick around for. Everything I own¡¯s in that car,¡± he said, nodding toward the back seat, piled high with bags and odds and ends. ¡°Town¡¯s dead, man.¡± John wiped his hands again, more out of habit than need. ¡°Where you headed?¡± ¡°Greener pastures. South, maybe. West. Hell, I don¡¯t even know. Just away. Figure I¡¯ll keep driving till the road runs out.¡± Eli leaned against the car, staring out at the empty horizon. ¡°There¡¯s nothing left for me here, not since¡­¡± John glanced at the car, the bags crammed wherever they could fit, then over at the empty passenger seat. He hesitated before speaking. ¡°I¡¯m sorry about Sarah.¡± Eli¡¯s jaw tightened, eyes fixed straight ahead. He gave a brief nod, but no words came. ¡°You sure about this?¡± John asked, his voice softer now. ¡°Ain¡¯t much left out there either. At least here, you¡¯ve still got a few friends.¡± Eli let out a weary chuckle, though it didn¡¯t reach his eyes. ¡°This place... it¡¯s as dead as the dreams we used to talk about. I can¡¯t stick around just waiting for it to rot further. It¡¯s going to take us all with it.¡± He turned, eyes scanning the station, the old pumps standing like forgotten relics of a world that had long since moved on. John filled up the tank, the clink of gold and silver coins in his hand. After the War, everyone had gone back to what they knew held value¡ªprecious metals, ores, the old ways of trade. Paper bills still floated around, but only the desperate or naive tried to use them. The rest of the world had reverted to something older, something primal. You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. As John handed back the change, the sky darkened, and a low growl of wind stirred the air. The horizon shimmered with dust¡ªmore than usual. A War Storm was coming, the kind that killed crops and left the land bare. John called out against the sudden wind, motioning for Eli to follow him inside. ¡°Storm¡¯s picking up.¡± Eli shook his head. ¡°Doesn¡¯t look like it¡¯ll be a long one. I¡¯ll wait it out in the car.¡± John hesitated, glancing at the swirling clouds. ¡°You sure, Eli? This storm looks meaner than most.¡± Eli gave the horizon a quick look, then settled back, a tired grin on his face. ¡°Me and old Betsy,¡± he patted the steering wheel, ¡°we¡¯ve seen our share of bad weather.¡± ¡°Suit yourself, but I¡¯m not coming back to save you if you get blown away,¡± John said, flashing a grin. ¡°Sure you wouldn¡¯t. With that bleeding heart of yours?¡± Eli eased his car up to the eastern wall, one of four massive barriers built from raw steel and stone, each angled like a blunt wedge to split the storm¡¯s force. He parked close, finding what little shelter he could along the wall that bore the worst of the winds tearing in from the east. John pushed against the wind, struggling his way back into the station. He¡¯d seen worse. The storms always passed, but there was always the hope that maybe, just maybe, one day they¡¯d stop for good, and the world could finally start growing green again. But each time they rolled through, they stripped that hope away¡ªcrops shriveled, the land laid bare, leaving nothing but more dust in their wake. It reminded him of an old tape he¡¯d watched as a kid, some flick about an undead army devouring everything in its path, growing stronger with every soul it claimed. These storms were no different, sweeping through and adding to the endless wasteland, feeding the dead land with more emptiness. Inside, John locked the door and took his usual spot behind the counter, waiting for the storm to roll over. The jukebox still played, soft now, as if the song itself was hiding from the storm. A ragged, sepia haze choked the horizon, blurring the line where the sky met the cracked asphalt, as though the earth itself were exhaling centuries of buried anguish into the air. The wind howled with a feral intensity, carrying with it a mixture of ash, grit, and shadows of lost places, scraping against the gas station¡¯s peeling facade like the raking of skeletal fingers. The storm twisted and undulated in chaotic patterns, an animalistic fury clashing against the battered, rust-riddled remnants of what was once a fuel oasis for travelers. Occasional glints caught in the murk¡ªbits of twisted metal, shards of glass¡ªflung into brief orbit before disappearing again in the ceaseless swirl. John stood behind the counter, eyes fixed on the dust-blurred window. The light outside shifted in strange patterns, distorted by the storm. Inside, the gas station was dimly lit, mostly by a single bare bulb overhead that swung gently, casting jagged shadows that danced across the walls. A faint rumble reverberated through the walls as the storm pressed harder, dust sifting down from the ceiling in thin streams, ghostly fingers reaching down in the dim, swaying light. John watched them with a distant sort of detachment, eyes unfocused, as if he were looking through the ceiling and beyond it, somewhere far away. He ran his hand along the underside of the counter, feeling the cold metal of the rusted pipe he kept there¡ªhis only defense against whatever might come through that door. His fingers tightened around it as he heard the soft jingle of the bell above the door. Chapter One Hundred Sixty-Seven: John Rearden, Part Three Chapter One Hundred Sixty-Seven: John Rearden, Part Three
What could possibly be out there in this hell? He struggled to recall if he¡¯d locked the door. He always locked the door¡ªespecially when storms like this rolled in. Storms brought scavengers, and you only had to learn that lesson once. He was certain he¡¯d locked it. He had to be. But a moment later, he was proven wrong. The door creaked open, the wind howling louder for a moment before the stranger stepped inside. Sand swirled through the open door, rust-colored river spilling into the gas station, pooling against the battered counter and skittering across cracked tiles. John winced as radioactive grit hissed against the floor, grinding into places he¡¯d spent hours trying to keep clear. John instinctively recoiled as the air shifted, the fine film of radioactive grit settling over everything. He cursed under his breath, teeth gritted, his brow knotted. The dust wouldn¡¯t kill you fast, but it worked its poison over time. Most folk had adapted in someway or another¡ªhardened skin, an extra eyelid or two. And then there were other, less pleasant mutations. The Evolved, they called them. John had seen things; things he tried not to remember. ¡°What the hell are you doing?¡± His voice came out rougher than intended, half anger, half bewilderment. The stranger didn¡¯t flinch. His skin looked too smooth, too untouched by the world: no scars, no burns, no signs of radiation¡¯s slow caress. ¡°Nice day for a storm,¡± the man said, his tone casual. His voice was smooth, slippery like oil over water. Adjusting his sunglasses, he caught the dim glow of the light bulb, dark lenses reflecting it back, hiding his eyes and any hints of his intentions. ¡°Close the damn door,¡± John growled, irritation laced with a thin thread of unease. ¡°You¡¯re letting half the desert in.¡± The man tilted his head slightly, like he hadn¡¯t quite heard or maybe just didn¡¯t care. The door swung shut with a thud, untouched by any hand John could see, sealing the storm outside. A faint murmur of wind against glass was all that remained of the chaos beyond. John tightened his grip on the rusted pipe beneath the counter, the cold metal grounding him. The stranger stood in the dim glow of the flickering bulb, perfectly composed, like he belonged in some cleaner, brighter place¡ªone where the sky still remembered how to be blue. John tried not to think of the creatures the storm left in its wake¡ªthe ones with too many limbs or joints bending in unnatural directions. This man was different, disturbingly whole, as if the storm had bent around him, leaving him untouched. John¡¯s gaze swept over the stranger, dissecting every detail. A reasonable number of fingers on each hand, hidden inside dark leather gloves. Skin, tanned and smooth, free of the scales or rough bone patches that had begun pressing through the flesh of others. He didn¡¯t look like one of the Evolved. No extra joints, no twisted bones, none of the mutations that had warped so many. Just a man, by the look of him. Years spent behind the counter had drilled a kind of automatic calm into John. He settled into the routine, words slipping out as naturally as breathing. ¡°Can I help you with something?¡± The man chuckled, low and throaty. ¡°I do hope so,¡± he said, stepping forward. His boots crunched against the sand-strewn tiles, the leather creaking. Not a trace of sand marred his coat¡ªan unnatural kind of clean that made John¡¯s skin prickle. That smile¡ªtoo broad, too casual. Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°You new around here?¡± John asked, voice rough with suspicion, the unease seeping through despite himself. His gaze flicked to the door, to the dust still settling on the floor like a veil of time. ¡°Something like that,¡± the stranger replied, his voice smooth as the hum of old-world tech. He slipped off his gloves, tucking them into his coat pocket. His fingers, pale and unblemished, looked untouched by the ravages of this broken world. ¡°You look worried, John.¡± The mention of his name sent a shiver through him, but John refused to give the stranger the satisfaction of seeing it. He forced a hard laugh, masking the knot tightening in his chest. ¡°Have we met?¡± ¡°Not yet,¡± the man replied, a thin smile curling at the edge of his mouth. ¡°But soon, I hope.¡± John had heard strange stories about the Evolved¡ªtheir mutations born from the fallout, twisting them in ways that made old myths look tame. Some said they could slip into your mind, pull your thoughts out like threads, or worse. But talk like that was easy to dismiss, the kind of tale folks swapped to pass the time in a dying world. The man stepped forward, and John¡¯s instincts pulled him back, a primal sense gnawing at his nerves. There was something feral in this stranger¡¯s presence, an edge that made John¡¯s skin prickle, though he tried to keep his voice steady. ¡°Listen, friend,¡± he managed, forcing a calm he didn¡¯t feel. ¡°I¡¯m not looking for trouble. You¡¯re free to stay until the storm passes, but if you¡¯d mind keeping some distance¡ª¡° The man halted, his gaze intense, cutting through the dim light. ¡°John,¡± he murmured, his tone slipping past polite pretense. ¡°You and I both know¡­ this storm isn¡¯t passing anytime soon. Not the real storm. That one is building, growing. You feel it, don¡¯t you? The shift on the horizon?¡± John swallowed hard, trying to steady his racing pulse. He gripped the pipe with white knuckles beneath the counter. The stranger¡¯s gaze didn¡¯t falter; it held a patience almost maddening, a grimness that seemed carved from stone. ¡°Who are you?¡± was all John could think to say. ¡°I¡¯m known by many names in my world: the wind, the ripples in the pond, the Infinite Potential. But I prefer to be called Jack. And, I¡¯m sorry. I¡¯d prefer to do this the easy way,¡± the man continued, his voice dropping to a raw edge, ¡°but unfortunately, I don¡¯t have much time. The connection is faint, and I can only hold it so long.¡± ¡°What are you talking about?¡± John¡¯s voice edged toward a shout, his confusion rising. The man¡¯s expression softened, almost apologetic. ¡°You¡¯ll forgive me, John.¡± ¡°What?¡± Before John could blink, the stranger lunged. John swung the pipe hard, the motion reflexive and desperate. But the metal passed straight through the man¡¯s form, colliding with a stack of goods behind him in a deafening crash that sent cans and boxes tumbling. He stared, stunned, his mind reeling as the man continued forward, unfazed. Cold hands seized John¡¯s head, fingers curling like steel against his temples. The room¡¯s edges blurred, the hum of the gas station fading into a thick silence as everything sharpened to just the two of them, standing amidst the thickening sand. Then they weren¡¯t there at all. Reality bent, the walls of the station folding inward, twisting and warping until the dim light bled into a black void. Shadows pulled at the edges, and then John was... somewhere else. A vast, black sky stretched overhead, jagged streaks of violent light tearing through the darkness like old scars, seething in the gloom. The earth beneath him trembled, cracking open as it lurched and split into chasms that seemed to pull him closer. Floodwaters surged in, swallowing whole cities, monuments, everything, until all was consumed by an endless, roiling sea. The air reeked of thick, acrid ash, coating his lungs, and from the void came a haunting chorus of screams¡ªechoes that clawed at his bones, sinking deep as the darkness pressed in around him. Chapter One Hundred Sixty-Eight: John Rearden, Part Four Chapter One Hundred Sixty-Eight: John Rearden, Part Four
¡°What¡­ what is this?¡± John gasped, the words torn from him as he struggled to catch his breath. They soared above the world, far from the chaos below, watching as it unraveled in waves of dark energy, cities fracturing, landscapes warping into shapes that defied nature. ¡°This,¡± Jack¡¯s voice was vast and layered, reverberating through the air around them, ¡°was the last Convergence.¡± He paused, his gaze distant, almost mournful. ¡°And it¡¯s coming again. Only this time¡­ I¡¯m not sure anything will survive it.¡± John stared, and they pulled back even further, a hum growing beneath his skin. It was unreal, he was seeing the edge of his sanity peeling away. ¡°Do you see it yet?¡± Jack¡¯s voice was everywhere. Scenes folded back, like the pages of a cosmic book flipping in reverse, one after another. The stars expanded, then collapsed, then drifted apart again in a kaleidoscope of time. John felt himself moving further, stars slipping away, until he could see it. It wasn¡¯t clear at first¡ªa double image, an echo across the vastness of the universe. Maybe the radiation dust was finally doing it, getting inside his head, his bloodstream, tweaking his perception until the seams of the cosmos unraveled. Plenty of folks cracked under the pressure of the storms, their cells reprogramming under the flood of charged particles, minds twisting with them. But there was something about this¡ªit wasn¡¯t madness. It was bigger than madness. Jack pulled him out even further until the entirety of existence hung like a fragile glass bauble. John sucked in a breath. He floated amidst total nothing. No light, no blackness, just¡­ nothing. ¡°When the universe was born, it thought it was the only one of its kind. Quite presumptuous for a universe, don¡¯t you think?¡± Jack smiled, a glimmer in the vastness. There was nothing, and then there was a pulse¡ªa vibration, a field, a light that wasn¡¯t light, a place that wasn¡¯t a place¡ªan idea more than a thing. The first something where there had been nothing at all. Jack¡¯s voice resonated softly. ¡°It was a young thing, unaware of the truth¡ªthat it was born into something far, far larger.¡± John blinked. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ ours?¡± ¡°Or are you its? Yes, to both questions, if you want to be poetic about it.¡± Jack moved again, a subtle push, pulling the view back just a little more. John¡¯s breath caught¡ªuniverses. Not just theirs, but others, alive in their own way, drifting and circling each other, bodies of light and darkness. ¡°Nothing is alone, not really. Not even universes,¡± Jack murmured. ¡°And it wasn¡¯t long, a few billion years at most, until our little universe discovered that fact.¡± Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. There was something stirring deep inside John. A feeling that had always been there, that hum in his bones, a resonance he¡¯d ignored, like a tune he¡¯d grown up with and no longer heard. And there, in the endless dark¡ªa word came to him, echoing, almost forgotten but so utterly familiar: Ours. Jack¡¯s smile grew. ¡°Every universe has a name. A truth. A resonance. It¡¯s not a word, not as we think of words, but it¡¯s something known deep down by anyone who truly belongs to it. I think you¡¯re starting to hear yours.¡± Ours. It sounded¡­ beautiful. It wasn¡¯t just a name; it was an invitation, a promise. Across the void, something shifted. Another universe, gliding, moving in its own orbit, its trajectory shifting¡ªheading toward Ours. John¡¯s heart thudded in his chest. ¡°No, stop.¡± The words tumbled out, a whispered plea. There was a strange, instinctive protectiveness in him. He could feel it, deep as blood, like a parent fearing for their child. ¡°That one¡¯s mine,¡± Jack said, his tone a curious mix of affection and sorrow. ¡°Your kind will know it as Terra Mythica. The world of myth. Though that is no more its true name than ¡®John¡¯ is yours.¡± The two universes drew close, faster now, an unstoppable collision in motion. John flinched as they came together, a cosmic impact. The crash was silent but resonated through everything¡ªa collision not out of malice but out of the inevitable play of physics and fate. ¡°It was an accident,¡± Jack breathed. ¡°An innocent one¡ªtwo children colliding in playful chaos.¡± John watched as their universe fractured. It broke, and yet it did not. They split and yet twisted, melding, shards shifting together. ¡°This¡­¡± Jack gestured, the nebulas swirling into shapes that felt like memories¡ªancient and new all at once¡ª¡°This is Convergence. Two universes, through force or affinity, becoming one. This is when I first met yours¡ªwhen the early life of your galaxies brushed against mine. And from that chaos, life emerged, reshaped forever.¡± They hovered above a world awash in strange colors and flickering lights, a living canvas of hues and brilliance unlike anything he¡¯d ever dared to imagine. John felt the world drop away beneath him as Jack placed a hand on his shoulder, and together they moved, not by steps, but by intention. The universe itself shifted around them, bending to Jack¡¯s will. One moment they stood suspended in a twilight firmament¡ªplanets spinning like marbles across a cosmic table¡ªthen they glided forward, passing between galaxies like slipping through doorways. Jack¡¯s fingers twitched, and the universe rippled, guiding them to Mars. The surface expanded beneath them, as if they¡¯d plunged straight through the clouds. John felt the crackle of electric energy at the shift, the strange awareness that one moment they were standing above all things, and the next, they were amidst them. The verdant plains of Mars stretched beneath John¡¯s feet, rich with a deep, primal green, vibrant and alive in ways that defied the very name he had known for so long. Yet somehow, he knew it was Mars¡ªsomething inside him felt it with an unshakable certainty. They hovered just above the ground, untouched, as if standing on a layer of air. Titanic giants moved across the endless green, each step shaking the earth, their massive forms imposing against the horizon. In the shadows of sprawling, alien trees, elfin tribes moved unseen, delicate figures weaving through the branches and moss-covered trunks. Jack let them wander¡ªghosts in this chaotic paradise, silent spectators among meadows that pulsed with color and life. Strange creatures chased each other through the grasses, their bizarre forms looping and darting in great arcs, laughter echoing on the wind. It was beautiful, impossibly beautiful¡ªa living dream painted in ever-shifting hues, so vivid it felt as if reality itself had burst into bloom. Then, without warning, the scene unraveled around them. The greens of Mars twisted away, replaced by the rich blues and greens of Earth. It wasn¡¯t a jarring motion, but a subtle shift, like thoughts rearranging themselves. John found himself in the sky above Earth, among flocks of iridescent birds, their wings catching the sun like shards of stained glass, fluttering beneath a gentle canopy of cloud. Chapter One Hundred Sixty-Nine: John Rearden, Part Five Chapter One Hundred Sixty-Nine: John Rearden, Part Five
Jack looked into his eyes with a piercing intensity that seemed to strip away every layer, as if searching for something hidden deep within John¡¯s soul. Suddenly, they were standing on an ancient mountainside. John¡¯s eyes widened as a dragon uncoiled itself from a jagged cliff, its long, sinuous body curving around crags and plunging into valleys, its scales rippling with glints of fire and shadow. Its breath sent waves of hot air shimmering up from the ground, and the nearby pines quivered under its weight, needles trembling in excitement or terror. Jack moved them again, a subtle flex of power. The tundra opened below them, a frozen expanse where a family of giants lumbered across the snowfields, their massive forms half-lost in an endless expanse of white, their footprints leaving craters behind, small storms of snow scattering with each movement. From somewhere out in the vastness came the faint echo of laughter, high and musical¡ªfaerie laughter¡ªspilling from glens hidden beneath ancient trees, far below. They drifted there, unseen among the giants and dragons, among the mysterious peoples that called these wild worlds home, invisible observers to moments of life that were somehow as beautiful as they were impossible. And all John could do was look, wonder, and try to understand how this all fit, this new existence where time, space, and the bounds of reality meant nothing under Jack¡¯s hand. John¡¯s gaze caught on a small Elven child. She was playing in a meadow, her mother beside her. The scene shimmered¡ªalmost too perfect to be real. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, they can¡¯t see you. This is just a cosmic memory, a remnant.¡± John¡¯s breath caught as the girl looked up, her eyes locking onto his. She looked right through the veil that separated them. Her mother remained oblivious, her gaze focused elsewhere, but the child¡¯s eyes met his, and she smiled, a small, knowing smile. Jack¡¯s sharp inhale broke the stillness, and his eyes widened for the briefest moment. ¡°Not possible,¡± he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. ¡°Perhaps¡­ still so much to learn about your kind¡­¡± He trailed off, his voice laced with something akin to awe, an edge of reverence softening the disbelief. He shook his head, and time rushed ahead in a blur, the world streaking past like smeared paint on a spinning canvas. ¡°The Convergence spanned eons, our two worlds living as one,¡± Jack said, his voice hushed, almost reverent. The universe shifted around them, rolling forward, time spilling in uneven surges¡ªlike a vast Venn diagram of intersecting time and space, layers overlapping, blurring the lines between all things. ¡°But it couldn¡¯t last. Our realms eventually pulled away from each other. In truth, from the universe¡¯s perspective, it was but a fleeting collision¡ªa momentary intersection. Yet for those who lived through it, it felt endless, each heartbeat etched in the fabric of reality itself.¡± This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. John watched as the two worlds drifted apart, each shard tearing, groaning under the strain. He saw the mother scream as her child slipped from her arms¡ªsaw the worlds splitting, people lost, the pain painted across their faces. ¡°The Schism was worse than the Convergence. It was agony. In the beginning, the universe was flexible, able to adapt. But once these lives had roots¡­ ripping them apart was a cruelty beyond imagination.¡± John could only watch. He tried to reach for the child, but she couldn¡¯t see him anymore. She stood alone, her mother gone, and John felt the hopelessness in his gut, raw and real. Then, they were amongst the stars again. He wanted to scream, but his voice was swallowed by the vastness. Jack¡¯s voice was a whisper. ¡°Magic faded. Eventually, the two were no longer one. Life went on. New stories began.¡± John watched as the stars drifted apart, Ours and Terra Mythica untethering. The stars separated, Terra Mythica drifting away like a lost ship, and Ours fractured, like a bone that hadn¡¯t healed right, a sadness that settled deep. He could feel it¡ªthe breaking of innumerable lives, the silence that followed as so many voices were snuffed out. An unbearable emptiness, a void settling in his chest. Jack spoke again, soft, solemn. ¡°The Schism came with more pain than the Convergence ever could. The Convergence was chaos, but the Schism¡ªthe Schism was pure, unyielding loss.¡± John spoke then, guided by an inexplicable certainty. He wasn¡¯t sure how he knew, but he just did. Something deep within¡ªsomething profoundly his¡ªjust knew, as though he had always been a part of it, as though he had always been there. His lips moved before he even realized, a current of truth thrumming through him. ¡°And then our universe was alone¡ªunsure, wounded. Healing, but never whole. In time, the memory of the Convergence faded, until it was nothing more than myth.¡± Jack nodded, his expression sad. ¡°Yes. Forgotten in all ways but the vague imprints¡ªin myths, in dreams.¡± The stars were silent for a long while, until Jack¡¯s eyes grew sharp again. There was something new there¡ªa glimmer of defiance. ¡°And John, this is important,¡± Jack said. ¡°With that Schism came something else¡ªa darkness that every universe names differently. Some call it the Devil or Doom; others know it as Evil or Hate. In my realm, we call it The Eternal End. A darkness. A residue of pain¡ªa shadow that only grew, a stain on the very fabric of existence. It is the fear of finality, the dread of nothing new, of endings without continuance. It was born out of the agony of the Convergence, from the sorrow of the Schism. It thrives in darkness, feeding on despair, growing in the emptiness left behind. A darkness that either grows weaker or more powerful with each passing moment. Hope against despair, potential against the end.¡± John felt a chill creep down his spine. He could see it now¡ªa shadow threading through the emptiness, lingering at the edges of the universe. ¡°John, I was born of Infinite Potential, the possibility of tomorrow¡ªa reminder that a soul can always create anew. Even when an end comes, there¡¯s always another chapter, another story. That spark lies at the center of all things.¡± He paused, his eyes shadowed. ¡°But The Eternal End... it¡¯s a lie. A consuming void, refusing futures, denying new beginnings. And like me, it took form, manifesting from all that was lost: the suffering, the pain, the endless grief. It has grown ever since. And now, as Convergence stirs again, I fear it will seize this chance to fulfill its purpose¡ªthe end of everything. Your universe has barely healed from the last Schism, while mine has had more time. But both are still fragile. If this new Convergence is tainted by that darkness¡­ if it gains control, the devastation would be immeasurable. Countless lives, fractured souls¡ªall fuel for the Eternal End.¡± Chapter One Hundred Sixty-Ten: John Rearden, Part Six Chapter One Hundred Sixty-Ten: John Rearden, Part Six
Jack looked at him, the weight of his words settling into the silence as if a stone dropped in still water. John¡¯s eyes searched Jack¡¯s face, a flicker of confusion darkening into something rawer. Then John shook his head violently, a sudden burst of emotion pushing through. ¡°No!¡± he snapped, his voice breaking, rising with a raw edge. ¡°No, this can¡¯t be real!¡± His eyes were wide, wild¡ªpanic swirling with anger, desperation fraying at the edges. His breath came fast, ragged, like he couldn¡¯t get enough air, the world closing in around him. ¡°This is insane! I must be dying¡ªor already dead¡­¡± His voice cracked again, trembling under the weight of it all. ¡°It¡¯s too much¡ªtoo everything. Too real, too impossible.¡± He stumbled over the words, his fists clenching at his sides, his body wound tight, teetering on the brink of losing control. ¡°Is it just radiation? My brain¡ªmelting down before burning out?¡± His voice wavered, almost breaking. ¡°The last flickering synapses firing off, desperately trying to make sense of everything before it all fades to black?¡± ¡°John, you already know the answer to that,¡± Jack said softly, his voice filling the quiet vastness of the stars. ¡°Your body is safe, right where you left it, back in your little shop.¡± John¡¯s gaze flickered across the glowing universe around them, the quiet beauty of it all seeming to press in on him. ¡°Why are you showing me this?¡± His voice was barely more than a whisper. ¡°Who do you think you are? God?¡± Jack laughed, the sound soft, almost wistful, as if the question itself carried a deep, unspoken meaning. ¡°No, John. Not in the way you mean. I like to think perhaps we were both made in His image, but who really knows? Maybe I¡¯m just a kid playing in the sand. Aren¡¯t we all?¡± He looked at John, his eyes full of an ageless mystery, as though reflecting something vast and unknowable. ¡°I have some authorship over my own part of the world, just as you do for yours, but the creator of all things? No, that isn¡¯t me.¡± Jack paused, and the space between them filled with the shimmering lights of distant galaxies, swirling, a slow dance of color and possibility. John¡¯s brow furrowed, confusion mingling with awe. ¡°Why does any of this make sense to me?¡± he asked, his voice catching. Jack¡¯s lips curved into a gentle smile. ¡°Because deep down, you already know it. You aren¡¯t merely flesh and bone, and you never were¡ªnot entirely, anyway. You¡¯re stardust, John. The same as every other living being, each a unique source of stories, of worlds, of countless possible futures. You¡ªall of you¡ªare the very source of magic itself. How you came by it, that¡¯s beyond me¡ªa gift from God, gods, or from the unknown. But what I do know is that the spark within you, that is you, is older than the mountains, older than the stars, older than any world you could ever dream of.¡± If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. John¡¯s heart beat with a strange resonance as Jack¡¯s words settled in, a profound truth he felt rather than understood, a truth older than time and larger than words. They floated together amongst the stars, wrapped in the silence and beauty of the universe¡ªtwo beings suspended in a sea of endless light, the chaos of existence having given way to this one serene moment. And for the first time, John felt that he truly understood his place in the universe; they were all playing in the sand, each one a breeze, a spark of the infinite. In a heartbeat, they were back in the gas station, and John was in his body again. The pipe slipped from his hand, clattering to the floor, its sharp sound cutting through the sudden stillness. Jack¡¯s voice dropped to a somber note. ¡°You asked, why I¡¯m telling you this. John, I¡¯ve been reaching across the void for a long time. As your universe yearned for something beyond itself, so did I, searching for someone who could hear me. Our universe moves faster than yours¡ªan anomaly, perhaps, but every universe has its nature. And as our worlds collided long ago, it¡¯s happening once more. Small pieces have already begun to slip across the divide. I¡¯ve been calling through the chasm, seeking a mind ready to hear me.¡± ¡°Why me?¡± John¡¯s voice was soft, quiet against the storm outside. Jack sighed. ¡°I wish I could tell you it was some prophecy or destiny. But in truth, I¡¯m speaking to you because you heard me. You¡¯ve been hearing me for some time, even if you weren¡¯t ready to accept it until now.¡± Outside, the sandstorm settled, but John barely noticed. Jack turned to him. ¡°John, I need your help. The next Convergence is coming. We are already running on borrowed time. The worlds are starting to collide once again. And this time, the darkness is ready. If we¡¯re not careful¡ªif we don¡¯t fight back¡ªthe End might just get what it wants.¡± He paused, nodding toward the door. ¡°You¡¯d better get that. Your friend¡¯s outside.¡± The sudden shift in tone threw John off balance. A knock sounded. John hesitated for a moment before heading over and unlocking the it. Eli stood there, a smile hovering just short of his eyes. John met it with one of his own. ¡°Storm let up and¡­ I just wanted to say goodbye,¡± Eli said, his gaze drifting past John¡¯s shoulder, taking in the mess left from John¡¯s attempt to swing a pipe at Jack. His eyes passed right over Jack as though he wasn¡¯t there, and John watched carefully, searching for any flicker of recognition. ¡°Redecorating?¡± Eli asked, raising an eyebrow. ¡°Something like that,¡± John replied. Eli shrugged. He hesitated, then hugged John tightly before stepping back. ¡°I¡¯ll write once I¡¯ve got my feet planted somewhere.¡± As Eli left, Jack watched, his eyes far away. John turned to him, his shoulders heavy. ¡°What now? What do you need from me?¡± Jack pushed off the counter, taking a deep breath, his expression that of a man who¡¯d fought too many battles¡ªand wasn¡¯t proud of them all. ¡°Far too much, I¡¯m afraid. Far too much.¡± Chapter One Hundred Seventy: Alex, Part One Chapter One Hundred Seventy: Alex, Part One
When the knock came at the door, Alex''s instincts told him to ignore it. He stared at the scarred wooden threshold of his cramped, crumbling apartment, shadows twisting across peeling walls and a ceiling that drooped with exhaustion. The sharp, staccato knock shattered the silence again, each beat louder, more insistent. Alex''s pulse quickened, a drumline of nerves. This neighborhood bred caution like a second skin; doors only opened when certainty lay on the other side. The peephole, long covered by the last tenants, left behind a faint outline and a nagging sense of exposure. He should ask Albert to fix it¡ªor at least cover the parts. Jason could do it; he was always good with his hands. Curiosity, that reckless taunt, pulled him forward. He cracked the door, eyes narrowing against the dim light spilling in from the hallway. Standing there was not the trouble he expected, but a man in a pristine tan suit, shoes polished to a mirror sheen that reflected the peeling linoleum beneath his feet. On his chest gleamed a badge: Excelsior Technologies, the emblem of their dominion¡ªa stylized bird with wings unfurled, talons gripping two gleaming spheres. The design struck a balance between majesty and menace, corporate authority disguised as grandeur. In his nineteen years, never had anything like this found its way to him¡ªleast of all here, where hope was an uninvited guest. Jason was gone, out on some vague errand that Alex suspected was more escape than necessity. ¡°Excelsior Tech?¡± Alex muttered, disbelief sharpening his gaze. The man¡¯s nod was a mechanical gesture, his face a mask devoid of human warmth. ¡°I¡¯m here on behalf of Excelsior Technologies,¡± he intoned, words clipped, devoid of inflection. A digital clipboard thrust into Alex¡¯s hands felt weightier than its size suggested. ¡°Sign here. Thumbprint and blood required.¡± ¡°Blood?¡± The word left Alex¡¯s mouth before he could stop it. The man¡¯s eyes, blank as an unlit screen, offered no response. Instead, he gestured towards a panel on the box he held¡ªa seamless blend of wood and metal, refined yet oddly primal. The compartment glinted in the flickering light. Alex hesitated for a heartbeat, then pressed his thumb to the panel, wincing as a hidden needle pierced his skin and drew a bead of crimson. A low hum reverberated beneath his fingertips, the box vibrating with a strange sentience. ¡°Calibrating¡­ sufficient sample,¡± the display read in sterile, cold letters. The man nodded once more, placed the box in Alex¡¯s trembling hands, and disappeared down the hallway without so much as a parting glance. ¡°Uh¡­ thanks?¡± The word slipped out, swallowed by the echo of footsteps. Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. Alex shut the door, the bolt sliding home with a metallic click. He stood there for a moment, the box cradled in his arms, its weight unsettlingly light. Breath hitching, he set it on the chipped kitchen table, the old wood creaking under the sudden burden. It sat there, silent and expectant, as if aware of its own importance. With hands that barely steadied, Alex unlatched the lid. It lifted with an ease that felt unnatural, revealing its contents: an embossed envelope and a sleek, metallic device that shimmered like liquid night. He tore the seal of the letter, eyes tracing the words that leapt off the page in stark black ink. ¡°Congratulations. You have been accepted into Mount Olympus University.¡± He blinked, the room contracting and swelling like a living thing. Mount Olympus University. The words pulsed in his mind, stirring echoes of sleepless nights spent hunched over borrowed books, Jason¡¯s half-hearted reassurances when their funds dipped below the line of reason, and the whispered dreams they dared not say aloud. The scholarship exam, a fragile bridge between desperation and hope, had been their gamble. Jason had scoffed, disbelief laced with reluctant encouragement. Yet, here it was¡ªreal, tangible, humming with the electric promise of something better. A sound broke the silence, raw and sudden. Laughter. His own, disbelieving and edged with hysteria. Alex''s gaze slid to the helmet, its design otherworldly, teetering on the edge of something almost organic, seamless and whole as though it had been forged in the heart of a star. He picked it up, its hum vibrating along his skin, almost¡­ alive. Alex¡¯s fingers traced the device as the front door creaked open. Jason stepped inside, shadows pooling beneath his eyes, a weight in his posture that lifted when he saw Alex. Whatever haunted him, Alex knew Jason would share when he was ready. ¡°Is that¡ª?¡± Jason¡¯s voice carried a tremor, hesitant but hopeful. Alex nodded, a grin splitting his face. ¡°I got in.¡± For a moment, Jason¡¯s smile was real, a flicker of who he used to be before life had stripped them bare. ¡°That¡¯s incredible, Alex. You deserve this.¡± Alex¡¯s grin widened, eyes shining with a rare spark of hope. ¡°This could change everything for us.¡± Jason let out a breath, the tension in his frame easing just a little. Alex¡¯s excitement was infectious, the room filling with the possibility of something more than just surviving. Glancing at the letter again, Alex remembered the warning: the access codes would come separately, a layer of Excelsior¡¯s infamous security protocols. But the urge to see what lay beyond the polished helmet was irresistible. He could at least test the connection, feel the edge of the unknown. He placed the helmet over his head, the smooth metal cool against his skin. It hummed softly, and then a small, transparent screen blinked to life before his eyes.
Calibrating¡­ DNA verification in progress.
The letters were sharp, sterile, a white glow against the darkness. Alex¡¯s breath caught as the hum deepened, a subtle vibration resonating through his skull. Suddenly, the world dissolved. The kitchen, the creaking walls, Jason¡¯s watchful gaze¡ªall of it vanished in a pixelated cascade, bleeding into shadow. The calibration screen melted away, leaving only a dark, inky expanse. Chapter One Hundred Seventy-One: Alex, Part Two Chapter One Hundred Seventy-One: Alex, Part Two
He lifted his hands and stared. They were there, yet not¡ªoutlined in flickering pixels, shifting between solidity and static. Fingers curled experimentally, and the movement echoed with a delayed, ghostly shimmer. The void around him pulsed faintly, like a living heartbeat, its dark expanse stretching endlessly. Small motes of light, fragmented like shattered stars, blinked in and out, casting sharp, cold glimmers. There was no ground, yet Alex stood; there was no sky, yet space yawned above him, a vast emptiness that swallowed sound. He flexed his fingers again, marveling at how they shimmered between his reality and this digital abyss.
Loading environment¡­
The voice that whispered from nowhere was mechanical, dispassionate, and with it came a faint vibration beneath his feet. A jagged shape began to form in the distance, pixelated and dark, something that promised both awe and the unknown. Alex''s world shifted abruptly, the pixelated darkness around him shuddering with an unfamiliar vibration. For a moment, he was torn between two places¡ªthe cold, flickering void of the VR world and the sudden, jarring cacophony from outside. The next thing he knew, a crash ripped through his senses. His body lurched as Jason¡¯s panicked shout penetrated the digital murk, reaching him like a distant echo. Before he could fully process, the helmet was yanked from his head, pulling him violently back into the real world. Light and sound assaulted him; he gasped, eyes snapping open, unfocused and glassy. Everything was blurred and disjointed¡ªJason¡¯s wide, frantic eyes, the overturned chair, and splintered wood scattered like jagged teeth across the floor. His head spun, the world tilting as he tried to shake off the fog. The sharp clatter of boots against the linoleum sent a chill down his spine. A gang leader, scarred and seething, stepped into the chaos, flanked by two men with hard, unfeeling eyes. The leader¡¯s sneer cut through the room, flicking between Alex and Jason like a predator assessing prey. ¡°Double trouble. Which of you is Jason?¡± Before the question fully landed, instinct took over. ¡°I am,¡± they both spat out simultaneously, voices firm despite the fear rippling beneath. The leader¡¯s smile twisted, dark amusement gleaming in his eyes. ¡°Real fucking cute. Guess we¡¯ll have to beat the shit out of both of you.¡± The next moments blurred into a storm. A fist struck Jason¡¯s stomach, doubling him over with a grunt. Alex¡¯s chest tightened as he watched his brother stagger from another blow, each hit more brutal than the last. Rage and fear clashed inside him, sparking an unyielding protectiveness. Stolen novel; please report. ¡°Stop it!¡± Alex yelled, surging forward. He grabbed at the leader¡¯s arm, fingers digging into rough fabric. ¡°Leave him alone!¡± A thug spun, eyes cold, and backhanded Alex with brutal precision. Pain exploded across his cheek, sending him sprawling to the floor, the metallic taste of blood sharp on his tongue. Alex pushed himself up, eyes blazing as he met the sneer of their attackers. ¡°Jason, get out of here!¡± ¡°Hey, look what we¡¯ve got here,¡± one of the thugs called, his grin widening as he lifted the VR helmet. The room seemed to shrink as Alex¡¯s pulse hammered in his ears, fear crystallizing into raw defiance. Reality fragmented. Alex¡¯s vision split between the chaos of the apartment¡ªJason¡¯s fists flying, a chair shattering against a thug¡¯s ribs¡ªand another world unfolding in the dark. Stars whirled like cold embers, and amid them skittered a creature, eyes glinting with mischief and menace. Its stare pinned him, cold fingers tracing his spine. Before he could comprehend what he was seeing, a boot crashed into his side. Pain ricocheted through him, and he hit the floor hard. Jason¡¯s shout rang out, fierce and ragged, but already distant, swallowed by the roar in Alex¡¯s head. Alex¡¯s vision swam, pain crashing over him in relentless waves. The chaos roared, muffled and dissonant, blurring the edges of reality. The helmet lay crumpled beneath the brute¡¯s boot, its sleek metal now twisted and mangled, a hollow remnant of hope. Every breath clawed at his chest, sharp and unforgiving. Blood traced a jagged path down his face, warm and metallic on his tongue. He blinked it away, eyes locking on Jason¡¯s frantic movements. Jason lunged, fists flying, creating just enough of a distraction to shift the room¡¯s savage focus. ¡°Now¡¯s your chance, Alex! Run!¡± Jason¡¯s voice cut through the cacophony, raw and desperate. Run? The idea blazed through Alex¡¯s mind, absurd and utterly foreign. There was no way he was going to run. Alex pushed himself up, determination flaring, but the room spun as the gang¡¯s attention turned toward him. Fists and boots connected, each blow a starburst of pain that sent him reeling. He lashed out, catching one of them in the jaw, but it barely slowed them down. A wiry thug with a snake tattoo snarled, landing a kick that knocked Alex breathless. He hit the floor, vision darkening at the edges. ¡°Please! Stop!¡± Jason¡¯s voice cracked, raw with terror. Alex reached out, their fingers brushing for a moment, a fleeting touch that felt like an anchor. Another fist crashed down, breaking that contact, sending him sprawling. Every strike blurred into the next, pain folding over pain until it became a relentless wave. The gang leader stepped forward, eyes glinting with cold satisfaction as he landed a brutal kick to Alex¡¯s ribs. The sickening snap echoed through the room, sharp and final. Alex¡¯s body shuddered, the fight draining out of him, movements slowing. He could still hear Jason¡¯s voice, desperate and hoarse, pleading for them to stop. The room dimmed, faces and shouts fading to shadows. Another kick, a white-hot flash behind his eyes. Then another presence filled the doorway. Alex¡¯s heart jumped as a familiar voice followed¡ªa voice he hadn¡¯t heard in too long. Albert. He was here, come to help. A shotgun''s metallic click cut through the chaos, sharp and commanding. Pain flared bright, followed by darkness. The last thing Alex saw was Jason, still fighting to reach him, anguish carved deep into his expression before the world faded completely, leaving only silence and the fall. Chapter One Hundred Seventy-Two: Alex, Part Three Chapter One Hundred Seventy-Two: Alex, Part Three
Darkness enveloped him, thick and suffocating. He was falling, the sensation endless and consuming, with no ground to meet him and no sky to pull him back. The black void stretched on, infinite and cold, swallowing him whole. His limbs flailed uselessly, reaching for anything to anchor himself, but there was only emptiness. The air rushed past, silent and heavy, pressing against his chest and stealing the breath from his lungs. The world spun, a relentless descent with no horizon, no end, only the deep, inky chasm. Specks of light flickered in the periphery, distant and teasing, only to fade into nothing before he could grasp them. The darkness seemed alive, speaking without a voice, shifting without form. The fall stretched on, timeless and eternal, a journey into the unknown where gravity itself felt like an illusion and the silence a prison. His mind reached for something familiar, anything to hold on to, but the weight of the void crushed every thought, leaving only the sensation of plummeting¡ªdown, down, deeper into the abyss. The fall ended not in suffocating blackness but in a peculiar, soft tug, as though unseen hands caught him and cradled him mid-descent. Light fractured through the void, shattering the dark into shards of shimmering color. The chaos lifted, revealing a cosmos stitched from swirling galaxies and stars, their light coiling and uncoiling like ribbons. Alex found himself floating, weightless, suspended in an infinite sky that felt both familiar and alien. When he reached out, his fingers met the cool, gritty texture of earth. He gripped it in his hands, and the world around him crawled into focus. The soft rustle of leaves and the rich scent of earth enveloped him, grounding him in this strange reality. He was lying on soft ground, the scent of damp soil and leaves rising to meet him. He stared up at the canopy of trees, their ancient branches weaving a lattice of shadows and light. The sky pierced through in fragmented shafts, dappling the forest floor with pools of silver and gold. He was somewhere deep within a forest, a place both serene and unsettling, where the sky only whispered its presence through the gaps above. He blinked, trying to make sense of it all, when a low, amused voice hummed from somewhere above. ¡°Lost, are we?¡± Alex¡¯s gaze snapped up. Perched on the branch of a twisted, gnarled tree that seemed to root in the void itself was a cat. Its fur shimmered with shifting hues of twilight, eyes like molten gold that blinked down at him with lazy curiosity. A long tail dangled below, swinging like a pendulum in the star-filled expanse. Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. ¡°Who...?¡± Alex began, voice barely a whisper. The cat¡¯s mouth stretched into a smile, full of mischief and secrets. ¡°I¡¯m Jack. And you, Alex, are extraordinarily lucky¡­ and not.¡± The cat¡¯s grin widened as it leapt gracefully from the branch, landing soundlessly on an invisible surface before him. "Where¡­" Alex began. ¡°You¡¯re in The In Between¡ªa place between all places.¡± Alex¡¯s head spun, the voice sounding both strange and inexplicably familiar. His legs trembled as he tried to steady himself, taking in the way the stars bent and swirled around them, as if the fabric of reality itself was shifting. ¡°The In Between? I don¡¯t understand. Am I... dead?¡± Jack¡¯s golden eyes softened, though his smile remained. ¡°Not dead, no. But not entirely whole either. You were torn, drifting across the cracks of existence. I couldn¡¯t let that happen.¡± The cat¡¯s tail flicked, and a strange light shimmered in its gaze. ¡°I shouldn¡¯t be here, you know. This world isn¡¯t meant for beings like me. But when I saw you falling, I had to do something.¡± Alex swallowed hard, feeling a lump form in his throat. ¡°What¡­¡± ¡°Yes.¡± Jack tilted his head, eyes glimmering with a knowing mischief. ¡°This place thrives on the lost, on souls who wander too far and forget their way. They¡¯ll devour without pause, without mercy. But you¡¯re different, Alex. Surviving here will teach you why.¡± His tail swept lazily over the dark expanse, and for an instant, the stars themselves seemed to lean in, straining to catch his words. Alex parted his lips to question, but Jack¡¯s purr sliced through the silence, soft and razor-sharp. ¡°Hush, dear boy. Time here is fragile, and words are costly. Easy to enter, hard to leave. Few ever have, and fewer still lived to tell of it. Rare, yes. But not impossible.¡± ¡°But¡ª¡± Alex tried again, urgency cracking his voice. ¡°Very few paths lead out, and none you¡¯d likely choose,¡± Jack said, his grin stretching wider, but his eyes sad. ¡°This is not my domain, or I¡¯d share more secrets. But every universe has its rules and quirks, and this one¡­¡± His voice dropped to a whisper, silk and smoke. ¡°This one dances to the rhythm of senseless things. It delights in the illogical, cradles madness like a cherished toy. Remember that, dear boy, before you make a move.¡± Jack sighed, his form rippling as if made from the breath of galaxies. The edges of his silhouette blurred, stardust trailing away into the yawning dark. ¡°I can¡¯t linger. This realm won¡¯t suffer me long,¡± he continued, voice shifting, taking on an eerie, echoing quality. ¡°Not all is as it seems, and what it seems isn¡¯t all that it is. Remember, Alex¡ªlook beyond the obvious.¡± ¡°Wait, please!¡± Alex reached out, the ache in his chest blooming into desperation. ¡°Tut-tut,¡± Jack¡¯s laughter drifted back, a sound both warm and unnervingly distant. His body dissolved like smoke on the breeze, leaving only the shimmer of stars that sighed as they retreated to their eternal dance. The silence that followed was a heavy, sentient thing, watching and waiting. Chapter One Hundred Seventy-Three: Alex, Part Four Chapter One Hundred Seventy-Three: Alex, Part Four
Alex stood alone in the starlit expanse, unmoving for what felt like an eternity. "Just a dream," he whispered, a mantra to anchor himself. He glanced down at his hands; they shimmered faintly, reminiscent of when he had connected to the Device. But now, they appeared ghostly, hollowed out, as if half his substance had been siphoned away, leaving only an memory of solidity. The Device¡­ Jason! The memory surged back: the fight, the chaos, Jason¡¯s face twisted with desperation. And then Albert¡ªBert¡ªloomed in his mind, a friend so close he was practically family. His chestnut hair catching the light as he stood, shotgun in hand, eyes fierce and unwavering. Jason had to be alright. Bert would never let anything happen to him. Alex shifted his weight. The ground beneath him felt solid enough, yet the sensation was strange, as if it held him on borrowed time. The first step sent a ripple through the world, like the surface of water trembling under a touch. Seasons shifted with every movement Alex made¡ªone step forward and the air grew thick with the scent of spring, fresh rain on wildflowers; another step, and summer heat seared the space around him, heavy and all that was. He paused, heart thudding in his chest, and looked up. The sky twisted in an impossible kaleidoscope, colors bleeding and merging: vivid purples, electric greens, deep bruised blues that shimmered like the scales of a great serpent. Every direction held a promise of change. He turned to the left, and autumn leaves cascaded around him, their fiery colors swirling like embers caught in a storm. To the right, the world dipped into winter, frost creeping over the ground in delicate patterns, the air biting and cold. His breath turned to mist, and the chill seeped into his bones before the next step shattered the illusion, flinging him into another, stranger place. The ground beneath him felt as though it might break apart, shifting and reforming with each hesitant step. Soon, Alex found himself at the base of an impossible structure¡ªa labyrinthine web of staircases, woven together like some fevered dream. They twisted and coiled, branching into directions that defied gravity and reason. Stairs climbed into the sky and plunged into the earth; some folded in on themselves, others led nowhere but to thin air. He stepped cautiously onto the first stair. It held. His pulse quickened, the air thick with an electric buzz that set his nerves on edge. He ascended, the surreal angles warping beneath his feet, his balance teetering as the structure seemed to bend and breathe. The stars above swirled faster, streaks of light slicing the sky, some hitting the distant horizon and exploding in silent flares. A sound, small and rustling, drew his attention. Shadows clustered in the corners of the stairwell. Eyes glinted within the darkness, dozens of them, too small and bright to belong to anything he knew. The creatures slithered into view, tiny, impish things with limbs that clicked and twitched. Their bodies were like shards of glass and black smoke, mouths filled with needle teeth that shone when they grinned. They fed on a spark of light at the base of the stairs, a dim, quivering glow that pulsed like a heartbeat. It looked like one of the fallen stars, fragile and flickering, its light struggling against the encroaching dark. He looked closer and realized it was no star. Alex¡¯s heart seized at the sight¡ªa bird-like creature, no bigger than his hand, feathers painted in impossible hues of red and blue that shimmered even in its broken state. It looked like something pulled from the depths of a dream. It was alive¡ªits fragile form trembling under the strain of holding onto life. He felt a pang deep in his chest, a reminder of the dreams he once held. In another time, in another place, Alex would have been a veterinarian. He had always loved helping animals, being a guardian for those who had no voice of their own. But in a world that barely managed to take care of itself, that dream was as fragile as the bird before him. Still, animals remained symbols of hope and love, small, innocent reminders of a world that had once known both. The monsters swarmed it, tiny fangs digging in as they devoured the light it emitted. The bird twitched weakly, a soundless cry on its beak. ¡°Shoo!¡± Alex shouted, rushing forward. He kicked out at the creatures, his foot connecting with a sickening, brittle crack. The tiny monsters scattered, hissing like steam as they fled into the crevices of the twisted stairways. He dropped to his knees beside the bird, hands trembling as he reached out. This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. The creature¡¯s eyes fluttered open, deep and dark, flecked with stardust. It looked at him, and then, impossibly, it smiled¡ªa curve of its delicate beak that felt like a warm ember in his chest. ¡°Are you here to eat me?¡± The voice was deep and resonant, yet it didn¡¯t come from its throat. It thrummed in Alex¡¯s mind, a telepathic whisper that filled the silence. ¡°No.¡± Alex¡¯s voice cracked, his throat tight with disgust at the thought. ¡°I¡¯d never hurt you.¡± The bird¡¯s gaze searched his, softening with a look of disbelief. ¡°Then why?¡± ¡°You¡¯re going to be okay.¡± His voice wavered with a desperation that surprised him. ¡°Help¡­ me?¡± It spoke again, surprise coloring its mental tone. A soft cough shook its tiny body, and it shuddered in his hands. ¡°Of course,¡± Alex said, eyes stinging with unshed tears. The weight of the creature¡¯s fragility, the surreal nature of this entire place, pressed down on him like a storm. The bird¡¯s eyes glistened with an ancient wisdom, the kind of knowing that only comes from millennia of living. ¡°You don¡¯t belong here, do you?¡± it asked, feathers quivering. ¡°No,¡± Alex whispered. ¡°I need to get back home. I need to wake up.¡± The bird¡¯s gaze grew distant, thoughtful, before another tremor wracked its small frame. ¡°Thank you for showing me this moment of kindness. I had all but lost hope. I have been dying here for nearly a thousand years. Unable to revive, unable to move on. I could not let the darkness consume me¡­ I could not give it my power.¡± Alex¡¯s breath caught in his throat. ¡°You¡¯ve been here for a thousand years?¡± A faint nod. ¡°In my home world, I live far longer. But I lost my way, and now¡­ memory has faded. It has been so very long.¡± Alex glanced at the shifting lights in the sky, their arcs forming trails of shimmering silver. ¡°There are so many lost souls here, aren¡¯t there? This place¡­ it feeds on them.¡± ¡°Yes.¡± The bird¡¯s voice faltered. ¡°Both good and evil, men and monsters alike.¡± It coughed again, the glow within its chest flickering dangerously. ¡°Take it,¡± it said, its voice cracking with urgency. ¡°What?¡± Alex¡¯s brow furrowed, confusion and dread tangling inside him. ¡°Take it,¡± the bird repeated, a light beginning to spill from its chest, a pure, radiant glow that painted the stairway in hues of crimson and sapphire. The brilliance of it made Alex¡¯s heart clench. ¡°No.¡± Tears welled in his eyes, the idea of accepting such a gift feeling too cruel, too final. ¡°I can¡¯t.¡± ¡°You must. If you don¡¯t, the darkness will consume it, and it will grow stronger. Please¡­ take it.¡± A sob escaped him, raw and unbidden, as the light swelled, spilling into his hands like liquid fire. The bird¡¯s body shimmered, its eyes closing with the peaceful finality of sleep. Alex¡¯s fingers glowed with the essence of the creature, the energy seeping into his skin, warming him from the inside out. Memories that were not his surged through him¡ªendless skies filled with dazzling stars, a family with feathers of flame and frost, the ache of being lost, the resilience in holding on despite the odds. He looked down and his form grew more solid, more whole. A sudden, blinding light bloomed in front of him, expanding until it filled his vision.
You have consumed: Essence of the Eternal Bird 988,457 raw aetheric light
Calibrating rank¡­ error.
The words seared themselves into his mind, and then his body burst with a brilliance that defied reality. Light streamed from him in torrents, radiant and untamed, sending the shadows that lurked in the crevices of the stairway skittering back in fear. Alex gasped, the power flooding every cell, overwhelming and electrifying. His vision blurred, the twisting world bending into shapes and colors he couldn¡¯t comprehend. His fingers, aglow with a new, unfathomable energy, stretched before his eyes. The warmth of the bird¡¯s final gift coursed through him, filling the spaces that fear and doubt had once occupied. Chapter One Hundred Seventy-Four: Jasons Lost and Found Chapter One Hundred Seventy-Four: Jason''s Lost and Found
With a weary sigh, Jace stood and stretched, muscles aching with the satisfying fatigue that followed a day well spent. It had been days since the Midnight Festival and the whirlwind of chaos that came with it. The weight of those events still lingered, pressing down on everything like the aftermath of a car crash¡ªtense and bruised. But it was beginning to ease. Moments of quiet and comfort had started to slip through the cracks, fragile and welcome. The night around him felt softer, carrying a sense of calm that resonated deep within¡ªlike releasing a breath he hadn¡¯t realized he was holding, letting a silent resolution settle into his bones. For the first time in what felt like forever, the pieces of his life seemed to align, hinting at where he fit within the sprawling chaos. Here, he could carve out meaning, find purpose amidst the tumult. He moved around his dorm, the soft creak of floorboards underfoot breaking the quiet. His gaze caught on the old mirror affixed to the wall. It was a relic, tarnished and simple, half-forgotten amidst the swirl of magic and upheaval that had come to define his existence. He paused, an unease coiling in the back of his mind. The reflection stared back at him, but something was wrong. A subtle misalignment, a lag as though the mirrored image were acting of its own accord, a second too slow. Jace stepped closer, a frown etching lines into his brow. His breath stilled, and a tingling pulse swept over him as his affinity for Truth and Soul awakened, sharpening his senses as though they were being fine-tuned by an unseen hand. The air around him thickened, buzzing with a latent energy. And then he saw it. The reflection didn¡¯t just lag; it shifted. Its eyes were wide and its mouth moved soundlessly, shaping a word he could not hear, only feel in the marrow of his bones. ¡°Jason.¡± His name trembled through him like a whisper from the past. His eyes narrowed, heart pounding. ¡°Alex?¡± he said, voice splintered with disbelief and hope. In the mirror, the reflection nodded, desperation etched into every line of its face. The hand in the glass moved, palm pressing against the surface as though it could break through. A silent plea, a bridge between worlds. Jace didn¡¯t think, he simply reacted. His own hand rose and met the cool surface of the mirror. Ice against his skin, then heat, then something that defied the reality he knew. The glass quivered, rippling as though water had been disturbed by an unseen current. The pull was immediate, inescapable. Before reason or fear could take hold, he was swept forward¡ªtumbling through the mirror, into the unknown, the reflection shattering around him in a thousand silent shards. The dorm room stood quiet in his absence, the candle¡¯s flame flickering in a final, solitary dance. No witness remained to the event, only the mirror, now dark and unmoving, reflecting nothing but the empty room. The world shifted beneath Jason¡¯s feet, colors bending, angles distorting, as if reality itself had forgotten what it was meant to be. For a breathless heartbeat, there was nothing but the cold, metallic taste of fear, and then gravity remembered him, flinging him into a landscape without form or function. Jason crashed against the ground, the impact jarring his bones, driving the breath from his lungs. He rolled to his knees, groaning, taking in the world¡ªor what passed for a world here. He stood amidst a land of distortions and contradictions, where space itself twisted into spirals and stretched into eternity, then folded into nothingness, all within a heartbeat. The horizon bent inward, impossibly close, while the sky fractured like a kaleidoscope of shattered seasons¡ªsummer bleeding into winter, and autumn smoldering into the pastels of spring. Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. Jason staggered to his feet, his eyes adjusting to the mad play of colors and shapes. He was surrounded by bizarre trees with branches that dipped and curled like the hands of beggars, leaves shimmering in hues that defied description. Strange birds wheeled above him, their cries dissonant, like a broken music box. This wasn¡¯t Terra Mythica¡ªnor was it Earth. It was a different kind of madness. He felt Truth and Soul coursing through him, pulling apart the veil of the world. A notification appeared in his mind.
You have entered a null space. A world between worlds. All things come, all things go, yet this place never was and always will be. It is the crossroads of the lost and found, where all realms touch and overlap. In the grand cosmic dance, you now stand upon the floor, caught between the steps.
Jace was only just beginning to tap into the depths of his new Affinity¡ªTruth. It granted him an insight that cut through the superficial, revealing details he had once only brushed against. His ability to Identify grew sharper, peeling back the layers of reality and exposing what truly lay beneath. With each use, he felt as though he was no longer just observing the world, but understanding it on an elemental level. He could feel it in the air: an undercurrent, an endless hum, as though the landscape itself pulsed with life, malevolent or indifferent. A chill ran through him. He took a step forward, his footfall echoed¡ªno, reverberated¡ªas if the sound had a mind of its own, bouncing off walls that weren¡¯t there. A path seemed to unfurl before him, a staircase that had no visible end, its steps snaking into the mist until they disappeared entirely. ¡°Jason!¡± Jason¡¯s eyes snapped wide at the familiar voice, his heart thundering with a mix of shock and hope. He spun, and there he was¡ªAlex, standing tall and commanding against the backdrop of the twisted, ever-shifting sky. He was perched on a looping stone archway that defied the very laws of gravity, a figure carved from shadow and light. The boy Jason had known was gone, replaced by a man draped in flowing robes as dark as midnight, trimmed with glimmers of silver thread that shimmered like stars. Strange symbols etched into the fabric pulsed faintly, their meaning just out of reach¡ªeven for Jason''s newfound insight. His long hair cascaded down in loose, unruly waves, and intricate rings glinted on his fingers¡ªeach a testament to some battle won or power claimed. Alex leaped down effortlessly, his boots landing with a whisper against the ground, defying the weight of his presence. He stood before Jason, shoulders broad and adorned with a cloak that looked as though it had been woven from storm clouds and shadow. Chains of obsidian and polished onyx wound around his forearms, catching the light in sharp, biting reflections. His eyes, deep and sharp, told stories of battles fought, realms traversed, and a power that had become second nature. ¡°Alex?¡± Jason breathed, voice cracking under the strain of emotion, his entire heart threatening to spill out in that single word. He took a step forward, and Alex''s arms moved without hesitation, pulling him into a fierce embrace that was both a reunion and a shield against the chaos around them. When they parted, their eyes met, glistening with unshed tears that mirrored each other¡¯s¡ªan unspoken acknowledgment of the time lost, the battles fought alone, and the ache of absence finally mended. ¡°I knew you¡¯d make the jump,¡± Alex said, his voice deeper now, resonant and steady, yet laced with something cold¡ªnot unkind, but changed, like a well-worn map etched with tales of long days far behind. Despite the hardness, Jason saw the brother he remembered. The tear that slipped down Alex¡¯s face said everything that words could not. Chapter One Hundred Seventy-Five: Reunited Chapter One Hundred Seventy-Five: Reunited
Jason suddenly realized he was still in his pajamas, a reminder of how abruptly he¡¯d been pulled into the mirror. They were surprisingly elegant, deep shades of midnight blue with stars that shimmered and shifted, forming glowing constellations across the fabric. With a quick thought, he activated his inventory, swapping the pajamas for the outfit Twig had custom-made for him¡ªsleek, black tactical combat gear adorned with subtle, intricate details. A cape draped behind him, etched with a white raven in mid-flight, its wings spread wide and fierce, completing the look. It was everything he needed¡ªfunctional, imposing, and undeniably awesome. A wave of relief washed over him as he realized he still had access to his inventory and gear. ¡°Where are we?¡± Jason asked, glancing around. The place felt like a forest, but not quite¡ªa twisted imitation of one. The trees were gnarled, their bark cracked and veined with a faint luminescence. Alex shrugged, his lips curling into a knowing smirk. ¡°I call it Wonderland. But, more properly, it¡¯s known as the In Between. A place that doesn¡¯t fit anywhere else¡ªa pocket between realms.¡± He paused, taking in Jason¡¯s bewildered face with a flicker of something between sadness and affection. ¡°Years, brother. It¡¯s been years. You have no idea.¡± Jason blinked, his head throbbing as the landscape around him twisted in impossible ways¡ªtrees grew sideways, their branches clawing at nothing, the ground seemed both soft as moss and solid as stone. ¡°Months, more like,¡± he muttered. ¡°For you, yeah. In Terra Mythica, it¡¯s been months. On Earth, it¡¯s been days or weeks. But here, for me... it¡¯s been years.¡± Alex¡¯s eyes clouded for a second before he turned his gaze back to Jason, his smirk now a little thinner, more worn. ¡°How did you¡­¡± Jason struggled for words, his throat tightening. ¡°How did you survive here?¡± Alex¡¯s smile came, but it didn¡¯t reach his eyes. ¡°Come on. We have a lot to discuss, and less time to discuss it in.¡± He motioned for Jason to follow. ¡°We need to keep moving. It doesn¡¯t like visitors.¡± Jason¡¯s brow furrowed, unease prickling up his spine. ¡°Who¡¯s ¡®it¡¯?¡± Alex¡¯s gaze flickered sideways, his eyes catching a movement that Jason could barely comprehend¡ªa shadow slipping between trees that weren¡¯t quite trees. He didn¡¯t answer, just pressed forward, feet navigating a spiraling path that led deeper, downwards, into what seemed like an endless abyss. The trees leaned closer, curious, their branches grazing Jason¡¯s shoulders, small touches that crawled up his nerves like ants. He stumbled, the ground beneath him shifting, slipping away, while Alex moved forward with an uncanny confidence, his steps sure and silent. If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. ¡°What happened to you, Alex?¡± Jason finally managed to say, his voice a low rasp. Alex paused, staring at something in the distance Jason couldn¡¯t see. ¡°I learned how to make this place my own,¡± he murmured. ¡°You can¡¯t just get along here. You have to tame it. You have to carve out a part of it as yours.¡± He gestured for Jason to keep up. ¡°Come.¡± They walked through landscapes that changed with each breath¡ªdense, dark forests gave way to sprawling deserts, and those shifted into still, ice-covered lakes. Each transition was abrupt, seamless, like passing through invisible doors to worlds that barely connected¡ªsome terrains lasted only moments, as fleeting as the last lights of dusk, while others stretched on, holding their form longer, resisting the change. The ground grew cold beneath Jason¡¯s feet as they crossed the ice. The air crackled with the scent of frost and something ancient, something Jason couldn¡¯t name but could feel in his bones. ¡°Reality doesn¡¯t work here like it does elsewhere,¡± Alex said, his voice carrying in the chill air. ¡°I¡¯ve been here for decades¡ªmaybe centuries. I stopped keeping track.¡± Jason¡¯s heart clenched. He had never imagined that his brother¡ªthe one who used to build forts with him out of blankets and sneak him extra dessert that they couldn¡¯t really afford¡ªhad been fighting alone for so long. ¡°I¡¯ve been keeping tabs on you,¡± Alex said, breaking the silence. Jason glanced at him, startled. ¡°Oh?¡± ¡°Mirrors are strange things. Reality is built on what we know, what we trust to be solid and unyielding. But mirrors? They twist that certainty, bending it just enough to show us the cracks. They¡¯re distortions, thin veils where truth is weaker. I thought you almost noticed me once or twice, but your were just checking yourself out.¡± A grin cracked across Jason¡¯s face, despite the absurdity of it all. ¡°That doesn¡¯t sound like me.¡± Alex gave a short laugh. ¡°I tried to reach out a decade or two ago, but I wasn¡¯t strong enough yet. Not until now. Your new understandings helped too.¡± ¡°You mean my Affinity? Truth?¡± ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s what they call it in Mythica. Your Affinity. Makes it sound like it¡¯s something separate from you, something outside yourself. When really, it¡¯s just you unlocking more of your¡­ youness.¡± They fell into silence, the kind that was filled with too much to say and too little way to say it. The world shifted, morphing into a rugged cliffscape, lush with green moss and wild grasses clinging to the rock. The scent of salt and the distant roar of the ocean filled the air. A clearing unfurled before them, its edges jagged and raw, and at its center loomed a structure¡ªmonstrous and awe-inspiring. It was a twisted blend of stone and bone, as if it had been wrenched from the nightmares of giants and molded into the shape of a fortress. It loomed over them, dark power radiating from its walls, tugging at something deep inside Jason. It clung to the edge of the bluffs like an ancient beast, carved with impossible angles and intricate runes that seemed to pulse with a deep, thrumming energy. ¡°This is my place,¡± Alex said, his voice carrying a grim pride. ¡°One of the few places where the rules make sense¡ªwhere I can breathe without feeling the world pressing in on me.¡± Chapter One Hundred Seventy-Six: Afternoon Tea Chapter One Hundred Seventy-Six: Afternoon Tea
The fortress seemed to shiver as they approached. Jason watched as the walls rippled, bones shifting, stone grinding, until teeth sprouted along the doorway. The entire structure seemed to lean towards him, ready to consume. ¡°Whoa¡­¡± Jason stepped back, his mind flicking to his inventory. The familiar weight of his sword materialized in his grip, a rush of relief coursing through him. ¡°Hey, hey,¡± Alex said, holding up a hand. ¡°You can¡¯t just rush in. Give it a pet, let it know you¡¯re friendly.¡± Jason shot him an incredulous look, but Alex merely gestured for him to put his sword away. ¡°What, you¡¯ve never petted a house before? Come on, we don¡¯t have all day.¡± Jason vanished his sword into his inventory and reached out, his fingers brushing against the rough surface. It was warm, pulsing, like touching the belly of some enormous beast. Slowly, the teeth retracted, the door opening to allow them inside. ¡°See? Easy,¡± Alex said, motioning for him to enter. The inside was a maddening labyrinth of twisted staircases and warped hallways¡ªimpossible angles and paths that led in spirals, upwards and downwards without any logic. The air was thick, and the walls seemed to breathe, expanding and contracting with a slow, deep rhythm. Alex led Jason into a room that might have been a kitchen¡ªa massive table at its center, cluttered with artifacts, objects that looked both ancient and dangerous. Alex put on a kettle. ¡°I never liked tea before. But I¡¯ve grown accustomed to it here.¡± Jason glanced around, his eyes catching on an intricately carved statue that seemed to move when he wasn¡¯t looking directly at it. ¡°This place¡­ it¡¯s insane.¡± ¡°It¡¯s home,¡± Alex said simply. The kettle whistled, and Alex poured them both a steaming cup. Jason took it, the warmth settling into his hands. He brought the cup to his lips, and instantly a notification popped up in his vision¡ªthe System text overlaying his sight.
Mystic Brew Consumed: +5 Focus, +3 Clarity for the next hour.
¡°How?¡± Jason blinked, almost spilling the tea. ¡°How are you still seeing prompts here?¡± Alex asked, a hint of amusement in his eyes. ¡°Yeah, that would be Jack. Somewhere along the way, working with John Rearden, he started using prompts to communicate. It was a way he could interact without focusing directly¡ªmore like a reflex. Helps humans acclimate. Something about the mind rejecting new places. A system¡¯s familiarity helps smooth the transition. It doesn¡¯t all make sense, but it works. Fewer deaths on transfer, apparently.¡± If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. Jason frowned. ¡°You know Jack?¡± Alex took a sip of his tea, nodding. ¡°We all know Jack, in one way or another. At least, anyone that¡¯s connected to Terra Mythica. He¡¯s part of why¡­ I¡¯m still here.¡± They drank in silence, the warmth of the tea at odds with the cold, unsettling presence of the room. Jason struggled to shake the strangeness of the moment¡ªsitting here, drinking tea, with his brother who had somehow lived centuries in a world that defied reality. Alex finally spoke, his voice low and serious. ¡°It¡¯s time you knew the truth.¡± He met Jason¡¯s eyes, the weight of the words clear. ¡°There¡¯s a war coming, Jace. Not just in Terra Mythica. It¡¯s already begun¡ªhere, between the forces of Chaos and Order. And we¡­ we¡¯re at the center of it.¡± Alex paused, a shadow passing over his face. ¡°There¡¯s so much you don¡¯t know about the path ahead, Jason. And I can¡¯t tell you everything. There are rules, boundaries to this place. But with the war that¡¯s coming, there are two things you need to know.¡± He leaned in, his voice dropping low with a solemn intensity. ¡°You need to find the Book of Prophecies. Rita Nutkins. It holds the key. And you need to win the Winter Games.¡± ¡°The Winter Games?¡± Jason¡¯s brow furrowed. He¡¯d heard murmurs about the event, a heated debate among students over whether it should even take place this year. But despite the uncertainty, the Archmage had declared it would proceed as planned. ¡°Are you going to question everything I say? Yes, the Winter Games,¡± Alex said, his tone exasperated but patient. ¡°Once a year, in Mythica, the Games take place. Students from across the world converge at a massive tower in the heart of Mesopotamia, known locally as Roandia.¡± ¡°Roandia?¡± Jason echoed, an eyebrow quirking in playful defiance. Alex¡¯s lips twitched, a hint of a smirk. ¡°Listen, I¡¯m older and wiser than you now. And I can still take you down.¡± ¡°I¡¯d like to see you try,¡± Jason shot back, a grin splitting his face as dark swirls of shadow began to coil around him, his cloak pulsing with latent energy. Alex shook his head and let out a sigh, but a flicker of pride lit up his eyes. ¡°Our parents¡­ they were part of this too.¡± Jason nodded. ¡°The Dark One, I know.¡± Alex¡¯s gaze sharpened. ¡°I know you know bits and pieces. But this is important. Roandia¡ªit¡¯s where we were born,¡± he said, his voice dropping to a near whisper. ¡°Jack¡¯s interest in us isn¡¯t a coincidence. We hold pieces of the puzzle, Jason.¡± Jason¡¯s brows knit together, frustration seeping into his voice. ¡°What does that even mean?¡± Alex exhaled, the sound heavy with restraint. ¡°Ugh, I sound just like Jack now. Listen, this place doesn¡¯t allow certain truths to be spoken outright. Just having you here bends the rules to the breaking point. It takes nearly all of my power just to hide you from them. But listen to me¡ªRita¡¯s Prophecies and the Winter Games. You have to win, Jason. Everything depends on it. Everything.¡± Before Jason could react, a deep rumble shivered through the air. The walls groaned, the floor tilted sharply, and the entire fortress began to shift, rising as if it were waking from a long slumber. The tremors grew fiercer, each shudder more violent than the last. ¡°They¡¯ve found us,¡± Alex said, a shadow crossing his face. ¡°Who?¡± Jason scrambled for balance, barely keeping on his feet. ¡°See for yourself.¡± Chapter One Hundred Seventy-Seven: Of Beginnings and Ends Chapter One Hundred Seventy-Seven: Of Beginnings and Ends
Jason lunged for the window and stared out into the twilight of the In Between. Massive stone legs, jagged and battle-scarred, jutted from beneath the fortress, lifting it higher with each thundering step. In the distance, shapes moved¡ªdark, monstrous things, shifting, flickering, like shadows given form. They were teeth and claws and eyes, bodies twisted into grotesque parodies of something like wolves¡ªor was it bears? The fortress groaned again, its legs¡ªmassive, spindly things¡ªemerging from beneath the ground, lifting the structure high into the air. The monsters reached them, some clawing at the legs, others leaping, trying to scale the walls. The fortress swiped at them, its limbs crashing down, batting the creatures away. ¡°What do we do?¡± Jason asked, his voice tight with urgency. Alex met his gaze, eyes blazing with a fierce, unyielding light. And then, with a boyish grin that defied the years between them, he said, ¡°We fight.¡± With a shared nod, the two brothers moved in perfect sync. They sprang forward, the air crackling with raw energy as they vaulted through the open window. The wind roared past them, and for a split second, there was only the rush of freefall and the pounding of their hearts. Alex accelerated mid-air, a burst of energy propelling him forward in a streak of light and force. Jason was right beside him, using Soul Step to close the final distance and soften his landing, the ground quaking beneath their feet as they plunged into the chaos. Their hearts pounded, adrenaline surging, swords already drawn and poised for battle. Jason sidestepped a swipe of jagged bones and gnashing teeth, his Affinities flaring to life as he darted between the massive, stone legs of the fortress. Shadows gathered around him, coiling, forming into vines that lashed out, wrapping around one of the creatures, pulling it to the ground. He stepped, his body flickering, disappearing from one spot and reappearing in another, his sword already in his hand, its blade biting into the flesh of a massive, black-furred beast. Beside him, Alex moved like a storm, power crackling through the air, which shimmered with raw, electric energy. Bursts of green and violet light erupted from his hands as he spun, each movement fluid and deadly. The monsters that surged toward them were grotesque amalgamations¡ªhulking forms with the massive bulk of bears, but supported by unnaturally long, sinewy legs. Their gaping mouths were filled with rows upon rows of jagged teeth, and exposed bone jutted through their fur in sharp, uneven spikes, giving them a nightmarish, skeletal armor. If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Alex struck with wild grace, each blow precise, his eyes blazing with a fierce joy that made him seem almost untouchable. For a fleeting moment amidst the chaos, Jason felt it too¡ªthe rush of battle, the shared thrill of fighting side by side with his brother, back to back, just like when they were kids playing at heroes. But the creatures kept coming, wave after wave, their grotesque forms shifting and adapting with each surge. They grew larger, their skin hardening into a dark, chitinous armor that deflected Jason¡¯s blows. His breaths came ragged now, each swing of his sword met with mounting resistance. The fortress shuddered violently, its massive legs quivering under the relentless onslaught, cracks forming in the stone as it struggled to hold its ground. The thunderous roar of the beasts and the grating scrape of claws against rock filled the air, drowning out even the pounding of Jason¡¯s heartbeat. ¡°Jason!¡± Alex shouted over the roar of battle, his voice straining to pierce the chaos. ¡°They¡¯re coming here because they can sense you. It¡¯s taking everything I have to dampen your essence, but it¡¯s not enough. They¡¯re like white blood cells, honing in, and more keep finding you. If you don¡¯t leave now, they¡¯ll overwhelm us. There¡¯ll be too many, even for me.¡± Jason gritted his teeth, his heart pounding. ¡°I¡¯m not leaving you! Come with me.¡± Alex smiled, a sad, knowing smile. ¡°This is where I¡¯m needed. For now, at least. There¡¯s so much I wish I could say, so much I¡¯ve wanted to tell you over these years. But you have to trust me.¡± Something cracked deep inside Jason, a pain sharper than any blade he had ever known. His chest tightened, and his voice shook as he yelled, ¡°I won¡¯t leave you! Not again.¡± The final words fell softer, almost a whisper, meant more for himself than for Alex¡ªa plea born of old scars and unhealed wounds, remnants of beginnings and ends. Alex¡¯s smile widened, softening into something genuine and heartfelt. His eyes, fierce with determination but a moment ago, now glistened with a rare vulnerability. ¡°I love you, bro.¡± Alex paused, mid-fight, his hands moving in a fluid motion, drawing symbols in the air. The world behind Jason shimmered, a portal opening, its edges rippling like water. Jason felt the pull, an invisible force wrapping around him, tightening like a vice. It dragged at him, relentless and irresistible, making every muscle strain in protest. It felt like the universe itself was rejecting his very presence. He tried to fight it, to anchor himself, to Soul Step, but it was no use¡ªhis body surrendered to the powerful current, drawing him back. ¡°No!¡± he shouted, reaching out, but it was too late. The portal swallowed him, the world spinning, twisting, colors and shapes blurring together until¡ª He landed hard, the ground beneath him cold and unforgiving, the impact jolting through his bones. Disoriented, he blinked rapidly, his vision clearing just in time to see his reflection flicker in the towering, ornate mirror before him¡ªits silver frame cracked and ancient, swirling with faint remnants of energy. He had burst through it, tumbling out in a rush of cold wind and shadows that dissipated into the air. The mess hall stretched around him, alive with the familiar murmur of voices, the clatter of cutlery, and the warm, rich scent of roasted meat and spiced bread. The portal sealed with a resounding thrum, the shimmering surface of the mirror solidifying back into glass, trapping the battles of the In Between¡ªand his brother¡ªbehind it. Chapter One Hundred Seventy-Eight: The Golden Thread Chapter One Hundred Seventy-Eight: The Golden Thread
The ornate glass quivered, catching the dim light in a dance of shifting blues and silvers, before it stilled, reflecting nothing more than the amber glow of the candlelit room. The students lingering in the hall¡ªsleepless scholars clutching books and parchments¡ªfroze, their collective breath caught mid-syllable. But at Mount Olympus University, where magic bled into the mundane, the moment passed like a breeze over water. Attention drifted back to the rustle of pages, murmured theories, and the clatter of quills as though the shimmer had been nothing more than a stray draft. Jace sat there for what felt like an eternity, a hollow ache spreading through him, as if the universe itself had been handed to him only to be ripped away again. The weight of it threatened to crush him, emotions roiling beneath the surface, ready to spill over and drown him. He couldn¡¯t bear it alone anymore; the isolation gnawed at him like a living thing. He needed to talk to someone¡ªanyone¡ªwho wouldn¡¯t think he was insane. But how could he even begin to explain? ¡°Hey, I¡¯ve been lying to you about who I am, and, by the way, I¡¯m the son of the Dark One. My brother? Stuck on the other side of every mirror. And, oh yeah, the fate of all universes somehow hinges on me.¡± The words in his mind felt ridiculous, heavy as iron and just as impossible to lift. It would go over like a lead balloon, shattering whatever fragile trust he still had. And yet, despite the crushing doubt, the need burned in him¡ªurgent and raw. He needed to speak, to share the truth that coiled inside him like a serpent, suffocating him. He needed someone to hear him, to help carry this impossible burden, before it consumed him whole. Jace felt it then, a tug deep in his chest, taut as an invisible golden thread pulling him forward. The sensation was familiar now, but still raw, like the memory of pain. His Affinity for Truth¡ªso recently awakened in a blaze of revelation he barely comprehended¡ªstirred within him. He closed his eyes and focused. For an instant, the line almost materialized before him, glistening with an ethereal, otherworldly light that tugged him forward. Jace was quickly finding that the Truth Affinity was less about revealing truths and more about pushing him toward where to look¡ªbut the looking was up to him. He was learning to follow these feelings, these perceptions, these glowing pulls toward the unknown. He followed the nudge into the courtyard outside. His pulse quickened, each beat a metronome ticking off unfinished business. The campus sprawled around him, worn paths lined with ancient oaks and ivy-covered columns that kept stories of ages past. There was comfort in the well-trodden paths but not enough to quiet the storm in his chest. The night stretched wide above him, deep and blue as velvet, pierced by the cold light of a thousand stars. Their fractured glow pooled in silvery puddles across the stone courtyard, painting shadows that shifted as he moved. Yet tonight, the campus felt changed, charged with an energy he couldn¡¯t quite name. The same halls, the same air steeped in old spells and murmurs of power, but something beneath it all had shifted, an unseen ripple that refused to settle.Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. He passed the statues that lined the old path, their stony expressions cast in solemn defiance. One, depicting Ares mid-battle with a lion, tilted its head ever so slightly, the marble lips curving into the barest hint of a smile. Jace blinked, his breath catching in his throat. The statues were known to shift occasionally¡ªmoving about the campus¡ªbut they largely paid no attention to the comings and goings of the students. Shadows loomed thick around him, writhing into shapes that defied reason. Only minutes had passed since his escape from the In Between, but it felt like centuries. Time in that place bent and fractured, stretching moments until they shredded into slivers of memory that clung to him now, fleeting and ghostly. The tug inside him tightened, gentle but insistent, like the hand of fate itself reaching through the night to guide him. He closed his eyes and let the sensation settle, feeling the golden thread of magic wind around his heart and pull eastward, towards the Hermes district. The line shimmered in his vision, an almost tangible path glittering through the gloom of archways and shadow-laced corridors. Jace moved forward, each step striking the stone with steady purpose. The night air, cool and sharp, filled his lungs, grounding him as he tried to exhale the heavy tang of dread and hope entwined. Around him, the campus breathed with muted life. Amber lanterns hanging from wrought-iron posts sputtered, their golden light spilling over the cobblestones, casting long, swaying shadows. The laughter of late-night stragglers sliced through the quiet, brittle and quick, a reminder that even at this hour, Mount Olympus University never truly slept. The Hermes district awaited him. The buildings glistened under the starlight, their walls painted in rich swathes of gold and deep green, etched with symbols that seemed to shift like living ink under the lanterns¡¯ glow. The architecture was a maze of elegance and cunning¡ªfacades adorned with false windows that watched, balconies with narrow, winding staircases that disappeared into shadow. Secrets lay coiled in every nook and beneath every archway, waiting for the right ears or the right codewords. Even now, students and messengers wove through the labyrinthine paths, their movements quick and deliberate. Boxes stacked high and heavy shifted under urgent hands; parchment-wrapped messages passed like whispers, exchanged with glances full of sly amusement and silent promises. The walls themselves seemed to hum with anticipation, their surfaces alive with shifting patterns that flickered and faded like a magician¡¯s trick. The scent of ink, sweat, and something metallic hung in the air, sharp and thrilling. It was as if the district itself had eyes, as if the polished stone and carved wood were watching, waiting, and breathing in the same restless rhythm as Jace. Every corner carried a sense of unspoken mischief, every hidden alley an invitation or a warning. Tonight, Hermes¡¯ domain felt more than alive¡ªit felt sentient, a place balanced on the cusp of revelation. Chapter One Hundred Seventy-Nine: An Impossible Confession Chapter One Hundred Seventy-Nine: An Impossible Confession
The invisible golden glow tugged at him, urging him deeper into the organized chaos. The first familiar face he found was Molly, her dark curls framing her face like a storm as she commanded a small group with the confidence of a general. Her voice cut through the din, clear and commanding, but tinged with an excitement Jace could sense even from where he stood. When she spotted him, her eyes lit up, not just with joy but with something more intense, something that shone with a fierce clarity¡ªrelief. ¡°Jace!¡± she called, a grin breaking through the tension that marked her features. Before he could even think to react, Molly flung her arms around him, squeezing tight. The warmth of the embrace was sudden, almost jarring, and when she pulled back, he felt the heat creeping up his neck, staining his cheeks. Seriously? He chided himself. Facing down the Dark One, fine. But a friendly hug? Instant embarrassment. He cursed himself silently. He reminded himself that he wasn¡¯t a kid anymore. Nineteen Earth years, twenty in Terra Mythica¡¯s adjusted time¡ªhe shouldn¡¯t be reacting like this. Molly didn¡¯t seem to notice the little internal dance he¡¯d just performed. Her eyes sparkled with pure, unfiltered joy, completely oblivious to the way he was trying to will away the blush. Around her, the chaos surged: trunks piled high and charms glowing faintly as they were loaded into carts that creaked under their weight. The followers of Hecate, now under Hades¡¯ protection, bustled with urgency. They were preparing to transition to the Fields Below, a sanctuary he had fought to secure for them with every hard-won society point. The move was still a week away, yet the air thrummed with the energy of imminent change¡ªa hope so fierce it bordered on desperation. Jace¡¯s heart clenched at the sight. His gaze caught Alice, half-hidden in the shadow of a bookshelf, her fingers skimming the cracked leather spine of an ancient tome. She looked up, eyes meeting his with a glimmer of something tender, a silent understanding that twisted his insides. It was brief, a flicker that vanished as quickly as it appeared, but it was enough. Nearby, Dex and Ell lounged on a worn leather couch, Dex with one leg draped lazily over the armrest, his ever-present smirk playing at the corner of his lips. He gestured animatedly, a scroll in one hand as Ell leaned in, eyes bright with amusement, her laugh a light, cascading sound that carried like glass chimes in a breeze. Scrolls and lists were strewn around them, their conversation weaving between hurried plans and sly jokes that brought a brightness to the room. Marcus stood at the periphery, arms folded across his chest, watching with an expression carved from granite. His dark eyes swept the room, calculating, guarded, until they settled on Jace. A muscle in his jaw twitched, and he gave a terse nod¡ªa silent acknowledgment of Jace¡¯s presence, the weight of unspoken words hanging between them.If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. The room pulsed with movement, the followers of Hecate weaving through the space, packing charms, tomes, and relics with practiced haste. The air hummed with the electric anticipation of a storm yet to break. ¡°Looks like the Scooby Gang is all here,¡± Jace said, his voice steady, though a tremor of something raw and unspoken threaded beneath it. The weight of it all pressed on him¡ªthe friendships, the fragile alliances, the bonds that had become as much a part of him as breath. He drew in the cool night air, the pull of his Affinity thrumming with renewed urgency. The golden thread vibrated with purpose, then stilled, as if satisfied that its task was complete. ¡°We need to talk,¡± he continued, eyes sweeping across the room, meeting each gaze in turn. The group exchanged glances, a flicker of silent worry sparking between them. Molly was the first to move, her gaze unwavering as she approached a stone statue embedded in the wall¡ªa carved face of an old man, weathered and wise, eyes seeming to watch them with a silent, knowing judgment. Its expression was stern, eyes carved to follow anyone who passed. She leaned in and spoke softly, ¡°Tenebrae et Veritas.¡± When she spoke, her voice carried an otherworldly quality, an echo that seemed to resonate from somewhere deeper than her throat, and the movement of her lips didn¡¯t match the words that filled the air. For a moment, there was only silence, and then the statue¡¯s eyes glowed with a faint, amber light. Its stone mouth cracked open, voice low and rumbling. ¡°Granted.¡± With a deep, resonant groan, the ancient fa?ade shifted, stone grinding against stone as a hidden doorway revealed itself. ¡°¡®Darkness and Truth,¡¯¡± she said, her voice carrying that same ethereal resonance as she glanced back at the group. Jace could only assume that hidden passages and secret rooms were more than common in this part of the campus. Inside, the room was shrouded in blackness at first, a silence so deep it felt tangible. But then the lanterns flared to life, casting a warm, amber glow that sent flickering light across the space. The light stretched and shifted, dancing over shelves crammed with ancient tomes, curling maps, and trinkets that hummed with a strange, latent energy. The scent was a mix of old parchment and ink, tinged with the ghostly aroma of wax. Molly swept her hand across the doorway, muttering an incantation under her breath. The room trembled, the door shifting into place with a deep, resonant thud as sigils glowed briefly along its edges, sealing them in. The warm, rhythmic pulse of protective magic settled into the walls, a silent guardian. The others found their places around the room, eyes unwavering as they focused on Jace. He stood at the center, the pull of their collective attention pressing down on him like cold steel. Thoughts surged and crashed behind his eyes, chaotic and vivid. ¡°There¡¯s something I need to tell you,¡± Jace said, his voice rough, every word emerging like shards of glass. It was more than a statement; it was a ripple, breaking the stillness and unfurling the truth he¡¯d buried so deep it felt entwined with his bones. ¡°Everything.¡± Chapter One Hundred Eighty: The Room of Secrets Chapter One Hundred Eighty: The Room of Secrets
The room stilled, the word echoing like a struck chord, carrying with it a promise and a threat, a confession and a plea. He met their eyes, one by one. Molly¡¯s, bright with hope and determination. Marcus¡¯s, wary and hard, like tempered steel. Alice¡¯s, soft but shadowed, concern beneath her composed surface. Ell¡¯s eyes shimmered with a mix of curiosity and defiance, her lips pressed into a determined line. Dex, on the other hand, wore a lopsided grin that didn¡¯t quite mask the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes, a grin that said he was ready for anything but expecting the worst. The lantern flames guttered, shadows pooling like ink as Jace¡¯s voice wove through the room. He spoke of everything that had led him there, memories that clung like smoke, curling and binding, of places he had seen¡ªvisions that defied reason, twisted facsimiles of reality fractured like shattered glass. He told them of the golden thread that wrapped around him, tugging him forward, of his new Affinity. Jace took a breath, deeper this time, and told them more. He spoke of the streets he had grown up on, the lean, dangerous years that had forged him. It was a story most couldn¡¯t fathom at Mount Olympus University, where bloodlines and legacy were as common as breath. He spoke of Alex, his brother, and the night he¡¯d taken a device that wasn¡¯t meant for him and forced his way into the university¡¯s world. Finally, he spoke of that night, the encounter with the dark one in the depths of his mind. The words came haltingly at first, each one a jagged shard of memory. Alice¡¯s hand found his shoulder, her touch light and trembling, a silent offering of strength. Her smile was fleeting, pale as the last glow of a candle, but it was there. He searched their faces for signs of betrayal, disgust, anything that would confirm his fear. But all he found was quiet, listening eyes. He told them about the dark one, though not the darkest truth¡ªhe couldn¡¯t tell them that he was the dark one¡¯s son. That confession stuck in his throat, bitter and impossible. He was already brushing the edges of belief; to say more would shatter it. He spoke of his Affinity and the way it shaped his perception, pulling back the illusion of a digital game to reveal a reality far more complex and terrifying. His voice cracked with the recounting of the In Between, and the warning Alex had given him, words soaked in dread. They listened, absorbing it all, the silence between them heavy and brimming. Jace gave them everything he could, every splinter of truth that cut him from the inside out. The room seemed to exhale, settling into a tense silence that wrapped around them like a shroud. The flickering lanterns cast their glow in uneven strokes, shadows stretching across the shelves laden with relics, books, and strange, glinting curiosities. Dust motes swirled lazily in the golden light, as if time itself had slowed to listen. Jace felt the weight of their stares, their collective breath held in anticipation, their emotions woven together in the quiet¡ªa mix of disbelief, curiosity, and something harder to name, a hesitant kind of trust.This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. Dex broke the silence first, a smirk pulling at his lips. ¡°So, Jason¡­ you chose Jace as your secret identity? Jace? Didn¡¯t want to pick something a little less like, you know, Jason?¡± His voice held a lilt of humor that cracked the tension. Ell elbowed him lightly, the gesture playful and accompanied by a faint grin she couldn¡¯t quite suppress. ¡°That¡¯s what you got out of all that?¡± ¡°So, you guys believe me?¡± Jace asked, his voice barely above a whisper, the question trembling in the space between them. Molly¡¯s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. ¡°We believe that you saw what you saw. Stranger things have happened. And with the logout feature gone and death looking more and more permanent¡­ well, anything is possible.¡± Alice nodded, her brow furrowed. ¡°It makes a strange kind of sense, but still... why go to such extremes? What¡¯s the endgame here? And why would Excelsior¡ªJohn Rearden himself¡ªgo through all this song and dance? He¡¯d have to be in on it, wouldn¡¯t he? He must know.¡± ¡°Unless that¡¯s why he disappeared. He knew too much? I always suspected some massive conspiracy,¡± Dex said, his eyes narrowing. ¡°Rearden¡¯s always been shifty. My dad used to say he was a genius, way, way ahead of his time. It could explain where he got all that technology.¡° He glanced around, eyes darting conspiratorially. Marcus scoffed, the sound cutting through the room like a blade. ¡°Are we really taking this seriously? Conspiracies, other dimensions¡ªand what next, aliens? This is ridiculous.¡± He met their incredulous looks with a defiant shrug, then sighed, conceding with a rough grunt. ¡°Fine, believe what you want. But let me tell you something¡ªmy dad worked with Rearden too, and he wasn¡¯t some misunderstood genius. He was a con artist. Always disappearing, leaving my father to clean up the mess. If you ask me, he was scavenging old tech, probably illegal stuff. Working with AI.¡± He paused, eyes narrowing as he leaned forward. ¡°It¡¯s not aliens or otherworldly powers; it¡¯s just him being slicker and slimier than everyone else. We lost most of our advanced tech in the war, and who¡¯s to say this isn¡¯t all just some hidden system he found? And, of course, I¡¯m stuck here with you all. The son of the lawyer who got all of Rearden¡¯s bills passed¡ªwho got the Technopurge put in check. Who covered up for his schemes. Wouldn¡¯t surprise me if this was some mass kidnapping scheme with me as the target.¡± Silence hung heavy in the room as they all stared at him, their expressions shifting from confusion to disbelief. It was clear¡ªthis time, Marcus sounded like the crazy one. ¡°Okay, fine,¡± he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. ¡°That sounds crazy too.¡± A collective nod passed through the group. Alice broke the silence, her voice steady but tinged with urgency. ¡°Listen, we can¡¯t rule anything out right now.¡± The others exchanged glances and nodded, the tension thick in the air, a silent agreement settling over them. Chapter One Hundred Eighty-One: Impossible Things Chapter One Hundred Eighty-One: Impossible Things
Ell leaned forward, eyes gleaming with mischief. ¡°I¡¯m more curious about how you got in without scrambling your brain. The Devices are tamper-proof.¡± Jace swallowed hard, memories of that night clawing at him. ¡°I thought it would fry me. But something overrode the system and let me through.¡± Ell looked thoughtful. ¡°Now that is odd.¡± ¡°So, you all believe me? You don¡¯t think I¡¯m crazy?¡± Jace¡¯s gaze swept over them, searching for doubt. Molly¡¯s expression softened. ¡°No crazier than the rest of us,¡± she said, a wry smile on her lips. Alice nodded, silent support in her eyes. Marcus rolled his eyes but said nothing, the fight gone out of him. Dex clapped his hands, the sound startling in the hushed room. ¡°Beam me up, Scotty,¡± he quipped, raising an eyebrow. Jace¡¯s brow furrowed. ¡°You know I didn¡¯t say anything about aliens, right?¡± ¡°Yeah, but it¡¯s cooler to think of it that way. Besides, technically, if this is another world, then we¡¯re the aliens.¡± He raised his hands, fingers wiggling like antennae, shooting Ell and Alice a playful glance. Marcus¡¯s jaw tightened, but a reluctant grin threatened at the corners of his mouth. ¡°In all this nonsense¡­¡± he started, eyes hardening. ¡°I mean, in this totally plausible, very likely story of Jace¡¯s¡ªI mean Jason¡¯s.¡± ¡°Better stick with Jace, in public,¡± Jace murmured. ¡°Right. Even if I believe you, what then? We¡¯re supposed to help you reach the top of the Winter Games? Beat the tower? It¡¯s impossible, never been done, especially not by a Traveler.¡± Dex frown as he nodded. ¡°I really hate to say it, but¡­ he¡¯s right. Even if you made it to the top, the last levels are barred from us. Travelers can¡¯t cross them¡ªsomething about a safety mechanism built into the system. The Games are a ranking system,¡± Dex explained, ¡°with prestige and rewards based on how high you climb. Only those at Silver Rank or below are allowed to enter. No Traveler has ever beaten it. Travelers who reach levels near the twenty cap gain elite status, almost like royalty here in Mythica. My dad always said he blew his one chance back in the day. He¡¯d go on and on about how important the Games were, how they could change everything.¡± ¡°Mine too,¡± Marcus said. ¡°Except my dad actually made it to twenty.¡± He glanced at Dex with a smile that was more menace than joy. ¡°I¡¯ve been trained for this since I was a kid, drilled on every detail. At least, every detail that you can.¡±Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. ¡°What do you mean?¡± Jason asked, curiosity flickering in his eyes. ¡°The Games change every year, and they¡¯re different for everyone who enters,¡± Alice added, earning an appreciative nod from Marcus. ¡°Exactly,¡± Marcus continued. ¡°I probably know the Games better than most, but one thing never changes: the twentieth floor is the cap for Travelers. Almost no one even reaches it, let alone gets past. There are rumors of ten more levels above that, but it¡¯s just that¡ªrumor. No one¡¯s ever confirmed it. It¡¯s impossible.¡± Alice¡¯s voice was a whisper, delicate and fierce. ¡°That¡¯s only the first impossible thing.¡± Ell snorted. ¡°Right, we¡¯re supposed to track down Rita Nutkins¡¯ Book of Prophecies? We¡¯ve already searched everywhere, remember? All we¡¯ve managed to find are fragments and quotes scattered through other texts. Honestly, I¡¯m starting to think it¡¯s just an inside joke among the other authors.¡± Dex spread his hands, a grin splitting his face. ¡°Two impossible things. That¡¯s not so bad. We¡¯ve faced worse.¡± Molly¡¯s voice cut through the chatter, soft and otherworldly. ¡°Jace, I believe you. This universe is full of unimaginable things. I¡¯ve seen them, things that have no place in any world.¡± Her eyes darkened, a secret surfacing. ¡°I¡¯ve¡­ been visited.¡± ¡°By what?¡± Jace asked. ¡°Spirits.¡± Marcus scoffed. ¡°We¡¯ve all seen spirits here. That doesn¡¯t prove anything.¡± ¡°No,¡± Molly said, her voice steady. ¡°Spirits from back home. My grandmother¡­ she was very sick when I left. She visited me when she died.¡± A heavy silence followed, the air thickening as they all exchanged glances. Marcus¡¯s skepticism faltered, confusion and an uneasy respect warring on his face. Alice¡¯s eyes shone with quiet empathy. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Molly.¡± Molly¡¯s smile was small, resolute. ¡°It¡¯s okay. She¡¯s in a better place now, somewhere in Terra Mythica. Bodies can¡¯t cross worlds easily, but souls¡­ they can slip through the cracks.¡± The silence held, but this time it was not heavy with doubt. It hummed with a shared understanding, fragile but unyielding. Alice broke the charged silence, clearing her throat. ¡°Guys, what¡¯s really crazy is that I was actually just passing through to borrow a book I knew Molly had.¡± She held up a thick, weathered tome, its dark leather cover cracked with age and etched with gilded symbols that shimmered faintly in the lantern light. ¡°It¡¯s on the origins of magical histories in Mythica. And it covers the Winter Games.¡± A murmur of interest rippled through the group as Alice placed the book down with a soft thud, the sound echoing in the quiet room. They all leaned in, faces lit with the anticipation of discovery. Jace¡¯s eyes traced the worn title, fingers itching to touch the pages that might hold the answers they desperately needed. Alice flipped through the book with practiced precision until she found the section she wanted. She spread the tome open to a large, detailed map, the paper thick and crackling under her touch. The map was painted in deep, rich colors¡ªblues, silvers, and greens¡ªmarked with swirling lines of ancient runes that seemed to shimmer as the lanterns caught them. ¡°Supposedly, long ago,¡± Alice began, her voice low and steady, ¡°this world was formed from shards of the original Prismata, the filter of aether and energy that flows through the universe.¡± Her finger traced a line across the map, landing on a spot marked with a dark blue symbol. ¡°There are said to be deposits of these original World Shards hidden throughout the land, each one holding immense power. This one here, under the Winter Games, is a piece of the original Sapphire Shard¡ªMind, Illusions, Intelligence.¡± Dex let out a low whistle, eyes narrowing. Chapter One Hundred Eighty-Two: A City on the Edge Chapter One Hundred Eighty-Two: A City on the Edge
Ell glanced at him before leaning closer, her gaze sharp and focused. ¡°You¡¯d think someone would have mined them,¡± she said. ¡°These deposits are highly illegal to mine and nearly impossible,¡± Alice continued, her expression growing serious. ¡°Even reaching them would require the power of a near-Transcendent Speaker. But this World Shard,¡± she tapped the map again, ¡°is what fuels the Games, granting them their ability to shift and change for every person who enters.¡± Molly¡¯s eyes widened as she leaned forward, the lantern light catching in the dark coils of her hair. ¡°And the kingdom built around it?¡± Alice nodded, flipping to an illustration of towering battlements and deep, shadowed forests. ¡°This was once part of Roandia, a kingdom that stretched across the land before it was shattered by the Dark One¡¯s campaign. Here,¡± she pointed to a jagged border on the map, a line that looked like a scar, ¡°is where they managed to push back his forces, creating this last stronghold. It¡¯s fortified, with protections meant to keep his armies at bay, a massive barrier that divides his territory from the Games.¡± Alice nodded, flipping to an illustration of towering battlements and deep, shadowed forests. ¡°This was once part of Roandia, a kingdom that stretched far and wide before it was shattered by the Dark One¡¯s campaign. And here,¡± she pointed to the jagged line on the map, a scar that divided the land, ¡°they built an enormous wall¡ªa barrier of magic that holds his forces back, fortified with ancient protections.¡± Marcus¡¯s eyes narrowed as he studied the map, a glimmer of awe breaking through his usual hardened expression. ¡°A border war,¡± he muttered. ¡°This entire region has held him off for centuries.¡± Jace felt a chill coil around his spine, a visceral reaction he fought to keep hidden. This barrier was all that separated him from the place he now knew he was tied to in ways the others couldn¡¯t imagine. The thought of being so close to the Dark One¡¯s domain made his pulse quicken, a mixture of dread and something darker, something he didn¡¯t want to name. ¡°It makes sense,¡± Ell added, her voice thoughtful, ¡°why there¡¯s been so much debate about even having the Games at all. With the Dark One¡¯s power growing, is it truly safe to hold them so close to his territory?¡± Jace stared at the map, a slow realization unfurling within him like the first glimmer of dawn. The sapphire shard, the ever-shifting Games, the ancient battleground¡ªit all connected in ways he couldn¡¯t fully grasp yet. But he could feel it: something here held the answers he needed, a key hidden within the threads of history, waiting to unlock the destiny that lay ahead.This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. ¡°But that¡¯s not even the most interesting part about this book,¡± Alice said, her eyes gleaming. ¡°Look at the name under the illustrations. The artist who drew them.¡± They leaned in, squinting to make out the delicate scarlet ink scrawled at the bottom edge of the page. There, in tiny, precise script, were two words: Rita Nutkins. Her name was inscribed beneath each illustration throughout the book. Silence fell again, but this time it thrummed with the pulse of revelation. Ell broke it with a grin. ¡°Alright, so what¡¯s next, Space Man?¡± Jace looked at each of them, his resolve hardening. ¡°We get ready for the Games. And we find that book.¡± The silence was alive, pressing down on them until the air turned leaden in their lungs. Jace held their gaze, searching for something¡ªacceptance, doubt, resolve¡ªanything to reveal where they stood. Fear, anger, confusion, determination; each emotion flickered across their faces, caught in the trembling amber light. Dex¡¯s grin came quick, an instinctive mask that didn¡¯t reach his eyes, where tension lay like a coiled spring. ¡°Hell yeah,¡± he said, his voice steady but betraying the faintest quiver, a ripple of fear threading through it. Jace heard it as clearly as a heartbeat. Ell rolled her eyes, giving Dex a playful punch on the arm. ¡°This is serious, Dex,¡± she muttered, though the warmth in her voice softened the reprimand. Jace¡¯s chest tightened as realization sank in¡ªthey were here. Despite everything, they were still here, with him, ready to face whatever lay ahead. Ell stepped forward, shoulders squared, eyes sharp and watchful. ¡°We need a plan.¡± Jace met her gaze and nodded, a small, shuddering breath easing the tension in his chest. Alice moved closer, her fingers brushed his, a touch so light it could have been imagined, but it anchored him nonetheless. ¡°We¡¯re with you, Jace,¡± she said, her voice gentle but unyielding, a pledge carried across the room. ¡°All of us. No matter what.¡± Jace swallowed hard, the tightness in his throat loosening as he looked around. Faces worn by battle and fear, but alive with resolve. Molly, fierce and unyielding; Dex, grinning through his nerves; Ell, eyes bright with mischief and loyalty; Marcus, reluctantly nodding, his jaw set. ¡°Why not?¡± Marcus added, the corners of his mouth twitching in the barest hint of a smile. It was more than Jace had expected. ¡°Okay,¡± Jace said, his voice stronger now, steadier. The tremor had gone, replaced by the steel edge of resolve. ¡°Let¡¯s get to work.¡± As they talked, the room filled with the rhythm of their voices, a chorus of ideas and arguments woven with sharp hope and the dull thud of fear. Jace felt the golden thread within him pulse, a gentle reminder of why they were here, what they were fighting for. Whatever lay ahead, they would face it together. The night unfurled around them, hours trickling away like grains of sand slipping through an unseen hourglass. Outside, stars burned fiercely in the velvet sky. Somewhere in the deep darkness beyond the walls, something stirred, a shift in the quiet. Jace felt it in his marrow, a certainty as ancient as the constellations above: this was only the beginning. Chapter One Hundred Eighty-Three: Unseen Magic Chapter One Hundred Eighty-Three: Unseen Magic
Jace spent the next two days neck-deep in construction and enchantments, squeezing in moments to replenish his dwindling stock of potions, all while guiding Hecate''s followers through the organized chaos of the ever-expanding Fields Below. An impressive fifty thousand Society Points had poured in from recent victories and Hecate''s alliance, and Jace was determined to make every one count. He worked tirelessly, weaving Hecate¡¯s new territory into the dark, labyrinthine expanse of Hades'' domain, crafting an arcane addition that seemed both seamless and alive with strange energy. Hours blurred together as Jace poured over the endless menus, weaving magic and Society Points into the very fabric of the Fields Below. The space transformed before his eyes, each addition bringing a new layer of mystical allure and power that felt like more than mere upgrades¡ªthey were the very essence of Hecate and Hades brought to life. There were the usual upgrades¡ªexpanded dorms to house Hecate''s followers, enhanced utilities, and additional library space. They hadn¡¯t brought much from their previous society, just what they could carry¡ªmostly items, ingredients, and scrolls¡ªwhich they quickly integrated into the alchemy labs and library shelves. The new halls glimmered with an eerie beauty. Midnight-blue stones lined with delicate veins of silver pulsed faintly under dim torchlight. Each step into Hecate''s newly claimed sanctuary felt like descending into an ancient, secretive world. Twisting symbols etched into the stone flickered with an almost playful violet light. Low archways opened into hidden alcoves. Narrow corridors led to spacious chambers filled with rows of polished tables covered in spell components, musty tomes, and herbs scavenged from the farthest reaches of Terra Mythica. It was the sort of place that screamed, "Don''t touch anything unless you want to grow an extra limb." As the upgrades settled, new options flickered to life, revealing Hecate-specific enhancements. Each potential upgrade seemed tailored to her magic, beckoning with new possibilities. The first new addition, dubbed the Veilfire Lanterns, transformed the hallways into ethereal passages. These enchanted lanterns lined the corridors, casting a shifting glow that flowed from deep violet to silvery starlight, as if channeling light from distant stars. Each lantern held a flicker of moonfire, its soft hum resonating with stored energy that could be drawn upon in passing, giving members a gentle boost in magical regeneration. The air was filled with the heady scent of wild herbs¡ªsage, lavender, and faint traces of night jasmine¡ªand a subtle metallic tang of raw arcane energy. The effect was haunting, a fusion of dark elegance and revitalizing power. Further into Hecate¡¯s Wing, he established the Sanctum of Shadows¡ªa chamber hidden behind a wall of ivy-covered stone. Inside, a circular pool lay at its center, filled with water so still it looked like polished glass, waiting for secrets to be spilled¡ªor maybe keeping some to themselves. Hecate¡¯s sigil lay at the pool¡¯s bottom, a threefold spiral with arms etched in delicate glyphs¡ªmoon phases, keys, and torches¡ªall converging on a central crescent moon encircled by stars. It glowed with a soft violet light, casting pins of lights that shimmered like an endless night sky across the dark walls. Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. Those who entered found their thoughts sharpened, memories clarified, and spells refined, the waters granting wisdom to those brave enough to seek it. Society members who spent time here gained bonuses to perception and an enhanced ability to recall spells and information, a small but invaluable edge in the ever-evolving world. Finally, Jace installed the Scroll of Echoes¡ªa mystical interface for direct communication. Mounted along the main hall¡¯s wall, the Scroll allowed him and future leaders to broadcast messages to every member, as well as provide real-time status updates on their health and rank. Words shimmered in liquid silver across its surface, and with a faint hum, each message would appear on every member¡¯s HUD. It was more than just a tool¡ªit was a lifeline for coordination, especially in emergencies, and Jace could already picture the edge it would give them in the trials ahead. Jace took a step back, admiring the seamless blend of dark enchantment and elegant mysticism they¡¯d built together¡ªa sanctuary for his allies, and a force to be reckoned with.
A hum of energy vibrated throughout the Fields Below, something new and powerful weaving itself into the air, resonating through the stone walls and torches like a low, thrilling drumbeat. Jace felt it thrum beneath his feet, a pulse of magic both raw and refined, marking an undeniable shift.
Ding! Congratulations! Society of Hades has reached Silver One.
A ripple of silver light shot out, tracing along the walls in an intricate web, illuminating every corner and crack. Just as the glow began to fade, a prompt appeared, hovering in front of him in bold, gleaming letters, and a flood of new options scrolled across his HUD.
Society Interface is now available via your Traveler Handbook. To access simply¡­
He focused on the blinking icon, mentally activating it, and the Society Interface flared to life, pinging with a cascade of updates. Fresh options blinked open before him, an entire hidden trove unlocked now that they¡¯d finally reached silver-tier. Each new feature felt like a reward hard-earned, a new layer of power waiting for him to explore. Jace could feel the shift, almost like a heartbeat moving through the halls. It was the kind of thing you couldn''t miss. Chapter One Hundred Eighty-Four: Growing Responsibilities Chapter One Hundred Eighty-Four: Growing Responsibilities
The first addition had Jace¡¯s full attention: a shop portal, direct access to Hades'' allied stores. He snagged it immediately. Only one tier unlocked, but it was enough to get started. He placed the archway near the main Society Interface, positioned just off the main path where Hades¡¯ and Hecate¡¯s wings converged. Jace stepped up to the portal, watching the arch shimmer with a faint, flickering glow as it tried to connect. For a second, he caught a glimpse of shelves, shadowed figures bustling between aisles, the dim gleam of polished artifacts under candlelight. Then it stuttered, the vision collapsing as the portal turned solid again. He smirked; a little hiccup didn¡¯t change the potential here. No more scavenging for rare components or tracking down potions by the dozen¡ªsoon, supplies and coveted relics would be just a step away. For now, the portal menu showed only a few grayed-out shops. He couldn¡¯t tell if they were temporarily closed, unavailable, or perhaps locked behind higher society levels. As always, there was more to learn, each upgrade peeling back another layer of potential. Running a Society was starting to look like a full-time job¡ªa job that needed a small army to manage right. When it was just him, he¡¯d barely kept up with the basics, and now¡­ he was drowning in options. He could now summon a visible interface anytime, anywhere, toggling between a private mode just for his eyes or a shared display others could see. It gave him full access to every feature and piece of data in the Society¡ªa brilliant tool, really, and one that set his mind racing with possibilities. He pulled up the member interface and located Molly''s profile. With a tap, a faint, glowing line appeared, stretching out before him like a spectral compass needle pointing the way through the ever-expanding maze of the Fields Below. Thankfully, she wasn''t too far¡ªthe Fields seemed to sprawl more each day, corridors branching into new chambers that twisted and turned in on themselves. Following the luminescent guide, he wound through shadowed passages and under archways etched with ancient symbols. The air was cool, tinged with the scent of sage and something darker, more elusive. He turned a corner and spotted Molly standing atop a small ladder, adjusting a row of softly glowing Veilfire Lanterns; violet and silver dancing over the stone walls. Each flicker seemed to breathe life into the carvings and reliefs, the shadows playing tricks on the eyes. Molly reached up, her fingers deftly repositioning one of the lanterns, and the light washed over her, illuminating the focused determination on her face. Her lips moved in a way that didn¡¯t quite sync with the words she murmured¡ªmaybe to herself, or maybe to someone only she could see. Jace stretched his senses, feeling the faint energy of wandering spirits circling her, drawn like moths to a flame. She always had that vibe¡ªone foot in this world, and the other somewhere you wouldn¡¯t want to visit after dark.Stolen novel; please report. "Molly," Jace called out, catching her attention. She turned to Jace, fixing him with a blank, almost unsettlingly pleasant gaze. ¡°Want a promotion?¡± Jace asked, flashing a grin that was all mischief. Molly arched an eyebrow, crossing her arms with a skeptical look. ¡°Oh no. Don¡¯t even think about pinning this on me. I¡¯ve already got enough on my plate as a Faculty Aide.¡± Jace let out a laugh, a real one that softened his usual brooding edge. ¡°Come on, Molly. You¡¯ve seen how things are lately¡ªall these new members, the chaos. I need help, and not just from anyone. You¡¯ve got the whole Hecate vibe down.¡± She narrowed her eyes, a glint of suspicion mixing with something warmer. ¡°And what exactly do I get out of it, besides a fancy title and a ton of extra headaches?¡± ¡°That¡¯s pretty much it,¡± Jace admitted with a shrug, though his grin widened. ¡°But¡­ you¡¯d also get silver-tier privileges. Full access to the good stuff on the menu.¡± He gestured to the glowing interface floating in the air and made it publicly visible. ¡°Plus, you could allocate Society Points, choose upgrades, send society-wide messages. You¡¯d be the boss of Hecate¡¯s corner. And don¡¯t act like you wouldn¡¯t secretly love that.¡± Her gaze flickered to the menu, and the hint of a sly smile tugged at her lips. He could see her weighing the options. ¡°Fine. But I want my own team¡ªI¡¯m not babysitting Hecate¡¯s whole crew solo.¡± ¡°Deal!¡± Jace said, extending his hand. She clasped it, her grip firm and unwavering. He initiated the prompt to upgrade her status and permissions. Molly glanced at the notification, gave a quick nod, and accepted it without hesitation. ¡°Oh, one more thing,¡± Jace added, trying to keep his tone casual. ¡°You¡¯d be helping out on the Hades side, too. Just a little¡­ you know, management stuff.¡± ¡°What?¡± Molly¡¯s eyes widened as she processed. ¡°Are you telling me¡ª¡± ¡°Yep, you¡¯re now officially Society Second.¡± He grinned wider, already taking a step back. ¡°Jace!¡± Her voice shot through the halls, layered with shock and outrage. ¡°Sorry, can¡¯t hear you!¡± he called, already turning on his heel and bolting down the corridor, her indignant yell chasing after him. "You little¡­!" was the last thing he heard as he rounded the corner. Once he was out of sight, Jace slowed, eyes catching on a new section of the menu¡ªa column of golden upgrades, each one locked tight behind gold rank. But he could see it now: a fortified inner sanctum, hidden portals, resources that could turn the Fields Below into something unstoppable. He exhaled, the seed of a plan already taking root. First, he¡¯d need to push the Society to the next level. Winter classes were coming, and with them, the challenges¡ªand chances¡ªhe needed to make this happen. Chapter One Hundred Eighty-Five: Ares in the Air Chapter One Hundred Eighty-Five: Ares in the Air
The amphitheater curved against the rugged mountainside, a crescent of ancient stone defying gravity with its elegant, spiraling tiers. Each level rose like a deliberate challenge to nature itself, a testament to craft honed by ambition as raw and untamed as the air in the Ares District of Olympus University. The atmosphere thrummed with the memories of past clashes and the unspoken promise of battles yet to come, every breath thick with the metallic tang of anticipation. Towering trees framed the arena, their sprawling branches clawing at the sky like the gnarled fingers of slumbering giants. Sunlight fractured against them, spilling in jagged, restless patterns across the smooth stone, as if even the light hesitated¡ªuncertain, cautious¡ªbefore it dared to touch this place. Over a thousand students filled the seats, a restless tide of anticipation. The scrape of a shoe, the creak of stone, each sound punctuated the silence but quickly dissipated. A fragile stillness hung over them¡ªpoised, expectant. After a beat, uneasy murmurs began, voices joining in a growing hum, conversations awkward and incomplete. Jace''s pulse thrummed in his ears. Unease coiled in his chest, not sharp, but insistent¡ªa strength rising within, uncertainty and determination twisting together. The tension around him fed that energy, his resolve swelling like a tide just before the break. At the amphitheater¡¯s center stood Brutus, a hulking figure in armor dark as iron forged from some infernal depth. His chest was a siege engine barely contained, a strange device strapped across his back¡ªits purpose unreadable. A single, glaring cyclopean eye marked his forehead, sweeping over the crowd with grim precision. Brutus exuded raw power¡ªa storm on the edge of release. His smirk, slight but sharp, was the smirk of a predator who knew his prey had nowhere to run. The air shifted, that subtle, uncanny stillness when something forces its way into being. And then Dranice Thorne simply was. One moment he wasn¡¯t there, and the next he stood beside Brutus, as if reality had shrugged and slipped him into place. His robes shimmered¡ªdeep purple, like starlight caught in velvet. Tall and willowy, his white beard flowed down in a cascade, framing a face carved sharp as weathered stone. He looked every bit the classic wizard, but his eyes held a ruthless glint. When he raised one long-fingered hand, the murmurs ceased¡ªthe crowd silenced like a candle snuffed by pinched fingers. Dranice let the silence stretch, his lips curving into a cat¡¯s smile. ¡°Welcome, aspiring legends,¡± he said, voice like silk over bladed steel. ¡°Welcome to our most honored and vital tradition¡ªthe Winter Games.¡± He paused, his gaze raking over the students, lingering on those whose fear betrayed them, on the few whose defiance dared to flicker through. ¡°I am the Master of Games. The Trials ahead are no stroll in the park. They are designed to test you, to break you¡ªto see if you are stone or tin.¡± His gaze shifted, eyes narrowing, daring them to run or step forward. Jace¡¯s heartbeat thundered against his ribs. The enormity of what lay ahead pressed down on him, but he remained still, that ember of defiance flickering¡ªalive. A promise: he would not turn back, no matter what awaited.Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. Dranice¡¯s smile widened. He shot Brutus a sidelong glance, amusement flickering in his eyes. ¡°This year¡¯s Games will be unlike any before. The challenges will test you. And, of course, there will be surprises¡­ surprises that will kill you if you¡¯re not careful.¡± Brutus snorted, a sound like grinding stone, but Dranice ignored him and pressed on. ¡°These Trials will be the most unforgiving yet. Any questions?¡± The amphitheater stayed silent. He hadn¡¯t told them anything¡ªof course there were questions. A slender hand rose beside Jace. Alice. ¡°Miss Candor, yes?¡± Brutus¡¯s gravelly voice softened at the edges. Alice spoke with confidence. ¡°How do the games work? What are the rules?¡± Jace¡¯s gaze lingered on her, the shift in her so stark it almost took him by surprise. Where had the shy, uncertain girl gone, the one he''d met just months ago? In her place stood a woman, poised and self-assured, her strength as undeniable as the stone beneath his feet. But then again, he didn''t need to wonder. They had all changed, each of them ground down, polished like stones in a mill, shaped by forces they hadn¡¯t seen coming. Life had a way of doing that, he supposed. Murmurs rippled through the crowd, curiosity awakening. Dranice clapped his hands sharply¡ªthe sound cracked like a whip, slicing the noise in two. ¡°You enter the Trials with only what you have Soul Bound,¡± Brutus said, his tone firm and unyielding. ¡°That includes your Shards, Traveler¡¯s Handbook, User Interface Stone, and so on. No other weapons. No enchanted armor. For those who reach the Tower, there will be absolutely no divine assistance¡ªno gods stepping in to save you or pull you out at the last minute. This is true combat, in every sense of the word. If you have the wit to use your resources, good. But if you don¡¯t¡­ well, no one will mourn your failure. Failure is simply more material for the Wall of Lost Names.¡± His gaze swept over the crowd, cold and assessing, already marking who appeared strong and who looked ready to crumble. ¡°Before you even set foot in the Tower, there are the Qualification Trials¡ªfour brutal tasks, crafted by the Master of Games and the Master of Artifacts from each participating school.¡± He let the silence linger for a moment, his smirk cutting like a blade. ¡°We take great pride in making them¡­ unforgettable. Those who survive will be granted the honor of attempting the Tower. Simple as that.¡± Alice¡¯s hand rose again, followed by the rest of her, swift and unhesitating. ¡°Yes?¡± Dranice called on her, his voice laced with thinly veiled annoyance. ¡°The Tower,¡± Alice began. ¡°What else can you tell us about it? Did you¡­?¡± ¡°Attempt the Climb?¡± Dranice finished for her, his lips curling into a faint, almost self-satisfied smile tinged with nostalgia. ¡°Yes, I¡¯m very proud to say I made it to the Eleventh Floor before turning back. A very respectable floor, I might add.¡± ¡°But my experience won¡¯t help you. They call it the Wandering Spire for a reason. Some call it the Mazeheart. A few, the Tower of Eyes. Pick your poison, but the truth¡¯s the same¡ªit¡¯s alive, it¡¯s watching, and it¡¯s more cunning than any of us. Always. No two Climbs are ever alike. Thirty floors, or so we believe. No one has ever made it past twenty-five, and not a single Traveler has breached the twentieth floor.¡± He paused, his gaze sweeping the students. ¡°Now, before you ask, Miss Candor, let me make this clear¡ªthese aren¡¯t our rules. They¡¯re the Tower¡¯s. It decides who gets to pass, and it shapes the challenges however it damn well pleases. The rhyme, the reason¡ªthose are the Tower¡¯s secrets, and it keeps them to itself.¡± Chapter One Hundred Eighty-Six: For Love of Glory Chapter One Hundred Eighty-Six: For Love of Glory
Dranice¡¯s voice dropped, becoming softer, almost reverent. ¡°Only those below Gold rank are permitted to enter, and you get one shot¡ªno second tries. It lets you in once, and that¡¯s it. For those who survive the Trials and reach the Tower, there are rewards¡ªfar beyond gold, far beyond mere trophies,¡± Dranice said, his voice carrying the weight of promise and peril. ¡°Artifacts of untold power. Prestige among the elite. Prizes so rare, so incomprehensible, they could only come from forces beyond mortal understanding¡ªthe kind that can alter destinies.¡± He wove temptation into every word. ¡°Some say the top holds the gift of True Immortality. Others whisper of answers to the Secret Questions of the Universe. The highest Floors, even for Travelers, bring status, fame, and glory.¡± His gaze darkened, his voice dropping to a near whisper. ¡°But such rewards are as much a curse as they are a blessing.¡± The hum of the crowd swelled as students broke into hushed, private exchanges, their voices rising and falling in a discordant rhythm. The noise grew, a restless tide of murmurs¡ªuntil Brutus cut through it with a bark sharp enough to cleave stone. ¡°This is not a field trip,¡± he growled, his voice a low thunder, rumbling with the menace of an avalanche on the verge of breaking loose. ¡°The Southeastern Stronghold sits on the doorstep of the embodiment of evil. And in case any of you geniuses haven''t noticed, that¡¯s exactly where you¡¯ll be in two days. So listen up!¡± The silence deepened as the students exchanged glances. Brutus coughed and jerked his head toward the pouch hanging at Dranice¡¯s side. With a sigh of exasperation, Dranice lifted a small golden orb from the pouch, holding it up for the students to see. The orb was wrapped in intricate gold filigree, swirling around the sphere in delicate patterns that caught the light, casting a soft, warm glow. ¡°Each of you will have this soul-bound before you start the Trials. Use it, and it will teleport you out of the Trial or out of the Tower, immediately. We didn¡¯t have these in my day. Takes some of the fun out of it, if you ask me. But, apparently, faculty has been going soft.¡± Brutus glared at him, halting his words. His gaze drifted over the crowd, cold and deliberate. "Now, for those of you not keen on throwing your lives away in the Games, this is your last chance to walk." Brutus¡¯s voice was hard as stone. The tension grew, thick and stifling, until about forty students broke. They shuffled away, heads low, glancing back as if second-guessing. None of them turned around. "That''s it?" Brutus shook his head and looked more tired than Jace had ever seen him. "Fine. For the rest of you¡ªlet it be recorded." He reached into his pouch and flung a small scroll into the air. It snapped open, unfurling again and again until it hovered above him, its golden ink shimmering as the names of the remaining students etched themselves onto its surface.Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. He cleared his throat; the sound of iron knuckle rapping against stone. "I said it once, and I''ll say it again¡ªthis is a bad idea." His voice cut through the quiet, daring anyone to argue. "Not just because of the respawn issues, though those are a bloody nightmare alone. It''s the location. It''s reckless. Dangerous. And yet, did anyone listen to me?" His glare pinned Dranice. For a heartbeat, just a sliver of time, the ever-composed figure faltered. A twitch in the jaw, a shift in posture. Brutus caught it and smirked. "But small blessings of the gods," he continued, voice dripping mockery. "The respawn issue has earned us one new rule for all entrants this year, across all of Mythica. One death¡ªanytime between now and the Tower¡ªand you¡¯re immediately disqualified from the Games." The crowd erupted, murmurs swelling into a chaotic clamor. Near the back, Jace felt a chill crawl over his skin, sharp as frostbite. He couldn¡¯t understand why anyone would complain about this¡ªknowing what they did about the dangers of dying here, the risk of losing your mind. Who would willingly tempt fate like that? All for what? Fortune? Status? Items? Jace told himself that he probably wouldn¡¯t have bothered with it at all if it weren¡¯t for his brother. But he was kidding himself. If it was a chance to get ahead in this madness, of course he would have. Brutus¡¯s eyes scanned the crowd. "Yeah, yeah, whine all you want, you ungrateful lot..." he growled, his voice cutting like a blade. "Since my objections were conveniently overruled, the Council has agreed to allow me some lenience in the Pre-Trial Selection Process." His eyes took on a feral glint. "Two days. You have two days before you¡¯re transported to the Southeastern Stronghold of Roandia. Two days to prove you¡¯re not a liability¡ªto yourself or anyone else. And I get to decide exactly how to test you." He reached into his side pouch and pulled out a ball. This one wasn¡¯t glowing, but opaque, a deep, dark green that looked like polished acrylic. "So, I¡¯ve decided on a Pre-Trial¡ªThe Ink Stain." A few of the students'' eyes went wide, apparently knowing what he was talking about. Jace had never seen anything like it in Mythica, though it reminded him of the paint he played with once as a child in the orphanage. He recalled the way it felt in his fingers¡ªsmooth, thick, and warm. A memory he hadn¡¯t even realized he¡¯d held onto flickered to life, and a bitter, almost wistful smile tugged at his lips, fading as swiftly as it had come. "Me, versus all of you. If a single drop touches you, your name¡ªgone from the enrollment. But if any of you manage to tag me, I¡¯ll stop." He glanced down at the ball, eyes gleaming with a hidden thrill. "Lucky for me, I¡¯ve prepared quite a batch for myself. Those who actually paid attention in my class, instead of running off to grind ranks, will know how to make it¡ªwhich should be all of you." Unease rippled through the students, glances shifting nervously. Brutus folded his arms, grin widening as he placed it back in his pouch. "So enjoy the next two days. If you can." He turned, as if done, his posture relaxed. Then, without warning, he spun back, pulling out a small ball, this one glowing red¡ªlike a shard of a twisted sunset. "If I were you," Brutus snarled, dark glee in every word, "I¡¯d start running." He pulled back and hurled the orb into the crowd. Chaos exploded. The orb burst, spraying molten red dye, sizzling and staining the courtyard. Jace dove, barely avoiding the splash¡ªit hissed as it hit the ground, vivid red spreading wide. Chapter One Hundred Eighty-Seven: The Games Begin Chapter One Hundred Eighty-Seven: The Games Begin
He heard yelps as two students beside him were marked, their names slashed from the list still hovering behind Brutus and Thorne, disqualified before they even had a chance to move. Jace stumbled forward, adrenalin surging through him, his legs moving on pure reflex. He used Soul Step to clear the area, yanking Alice along with him. Dex and the others had already leapt from the stands, a blur of motion. Marcus ducked behind another student, using their body as a shield from a burst of aether-infused green ink. "Come back here, you little beasts!" Brutus roared with laughter. He swung the device from his back¡ªa grotesque hybrid of slingshot and cannon, bristling with orbs of every color. Brutus¡¯s laughter rang out, deep and unrestrained. There was no true malice in it. Jace knew Brutus¡ªbeneath the rough exterior, the gruff demeanor, he was a softie. He¡¯d go to any length to protect those under his charge. This was his way of keeping some of the students safe. With a swift motion, Brutus pulled another orb¡ªa chilling shade of glacial blue¡ªand hurled it into the sky. It exploded with a deafening crack, releasing a torrential cascade of ink, staining skin and stone in vivid colors. Each burst wove an illusion¡ªcrackling fire, arcing lightning¡ªbending reality harmlessly with each explosion. Across the kaleidoscopic battlefield, small teams of students held their ground. Spells shimmered as they worked in sync, using aether to scoop up inky puddles and hurl them back at Brutus. He stood at the center, unbothered, a shimmering shield flaring around him, deflecting attacks with ease. ¡°Gonna take more than that, you little welps,¡± he laughed, his voice thickening, an accent creeping in¡ªsomething rough and guttural that Jace only heard when Brutus lost himself in the moment. Jace, now just out of range, glanced back and thought, He''s certainly enjoying this... maybe a little too much. Fake lightning tore across the sky, heatless fire roared like an unleashed beast, ink oozing into dark pools that mirrored the madness. Ell stood firm across the way, her hands raised, a shimmering shield deflecting thorny ink vines that screeched as they struck. Behind her, students huddled, wide-eyed. Dex flanked her, his aether glowing as he caught Jace¡¯s gaze. A silent question. Jace answered with a sharp nod. We¡¯re fine. Go. Dex grabbed Ell¡¯s arm, leading the students toward safety. Ell hesitated, glancing back, but Jace held her gaze¡ªher hesitation melted. They vanished into the chaos, her shield flickering like a ghost''s light. Brutus tossed a handful of orbs into the air. They hung suspended for a moment before darting off like predators sensing prey, each honing in on their target. Jace moved on pure instinct, Soul Stepping through the chaos again, pulling Alice with him. Orbs exploded around them, bursts of color and danger. Just as they thought they¡¯d made it clear, they reappeared directly in the path of another attack.Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! Without hesitation, Alice raised her Sapphire Shard. A brilliant surge of blue light erupted, blasting ink-streaked enemies away. She followed with a swift motion, conjuring a glimmering bubble around them¡ªa barrier of radiant blue, pulsing with energy. Jace¡¯s eyes widened. He hadn¡¯t known the Shard could do that. The battlefield was a storm of color, lightning, fire, and ink¡ªmagic and madness swirling in every direction. A wild, raw laugh tore from Jace¡¯s throat. There was something about the false danger, the thrill of pretending to fight for survival when he''d faced the real thing so often. To play¡ªto pretend¡ªhe couldn¡¯t quite explain it, but the tension, the tightness in his chest, drained away as he let the madness of it all wash over him. Alice laughed too, her voice bright and free, as they ducked behind a wall just as a burst of purple ink splattered across it. In the chaos, Alice stumbled into Jace, both of them tumbling into each other, laughing without care. The courtyard had transformed into a chaotic battlefield¡ªstudents diving, rolling, and laughing as explosions of color burst all around them. In that moment, everything seemed to freeze. They looked at each other, smiles faltering just for a heartbeat. Her closeness, the smell of her hair, the warmth of her breath, all hit him like a wave, and suddenly, Jace couldn¡¯t tell if his heart was racing from the near escape or from her. Alice¡¯s gaze locked with his, a knowing glint in her eyes. ¡°Ladies and gentlemen! Men and monsters, the Games have begun!¡± Brutus¡¯s voice rang out, growing louder as he approached. After a long beat, Alice smiled. "We should probably get out of here." "Right. Yeah," Jace said, though his voice came out softer. He nodded, his gaze lingering on her for a moment longer than he intended, a quiet smile tugging at his lips. His heart was still racing, not just from the rush coursing through him, but from the way her eyes searched his. ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡± They slipped away, untouched by ink but marked by the sheen of adrenaline, and the relentless drum of their hearts.
Jace walked Alice to the entrance of Athena District, his steps slowing as they reached the threshold. Brutus was nowhere to be seen, but his drones could be anywhere¡ªthey had to remain vigilant. Jace hesitated, his eyes drawn to her, etching the moment into memory: the way sunlight kissed her skin, casting a tender glow along the soft curve of her cheek; the way her eyes held a depth, like the still surface of a secret lake. Time seemed to stretch, holding them in a fragile, unspoken moment. And then, like a fleeting sigh, it was gone. With a quiet breath and the weight of reluctance in his stride, he turned and made his way back to the Fields Below. During his walk, he glanced at his notifications and saw the Games Roster was now accessible. Over eighty students had been eliminated already, their names crossed off. Yet Jace and his friends remained, bound tighter than ever by an unspoken connection¡ªa quiet, unshakable thread that wove between them as the world around erupted in chaos and vivid, unrelenting color. Jace felt an inexplicable happiness, a lightness in his chest that made the world seem a little brighter. Still, there was a faint tug in the back of his mind, a sense that the moment had left something undone, something just within reach¡ªif only he''d reached for it. 188. Jaces Journal Entry, Part 1
When I woke up this morning finding myself still in that strange sort of fever dream that we call Terra Mythica¡ªa reality on the other edges of the universe¡ªI felt the familiar disorientation. It''s the kind of disorientation that cuts right to the bone, reminding me, as always, that the place I now call home isn''t really home at all¡ªit''s just the least hostile of two horrors. No one expects to wake up in a place like this, a sprawling realm on the edge of the universe, where gods are real and death is... relative. And this place? This place was never supposed to be permanent. But here we are, living it. My name is Jace. Well, Jason, by my Earth ID. The gods of Terra Mythica know me as Grayson, Lost Prince of Roandia, Son of the Dark One¡ªhow¡¯s that for a surname? But here, in this game-turned-reality, I go by Jace. Turns out that when I was a baby, me and my twin brother Alexander were spirited away from this place¡ªthis magical world of death, magic, and gods. The gods of the West and the gods of the East, each forming a strange balance in a topsy-turvy war of survival. No one expected any of this. A lifetime ago, I lived in the United Corporate Territories of America, a glorified dystopia stitched together with barcodes and bankrupt dreams. There, survival was the only art left to master. Creativity was a relic, buried under the rubble of the Techno Purge, when every trace of advanced technology¡ªevery one and zero¡ªwas annihilated to prevent malicious AI from devouring what remained of humanity. No new forms of entertainment had been created since the 80s and 90s. Everything after that was destroyed in the techno purge. We scraped by on vinyl records and pre-millennium tech. Back home, we had to fight for survival every day. And then John Reardon came along. Reardon, Earth¡¯s first mega trillionaire tycoon, didn¡¯t just rewrite the rules of technology¡ªhe tore them to shreds and built something no one understood. His brainchild, Excelsior Tech and the Device, wasn¡¯t just tech. It was magic, though we didn¡¯t know that then. His promise? A digital utopia. A game-world escape for hundreds of millions. The truth? He severed our minds, tore our souls from our bodies, and hurled us into this place, this Terra Mythica. So, here we are, transported¡ªa society on the verge of collapse shunted off to this magical world. For what purpose, what sacrifice, we may never know. Back home, hunger, disease, and the radiation Sands were constant companions. We were scavengers, picking through the bones of a decaying world. Here, famine and plague are myths¡ªcommodities, even. There was a degree of hope here. But the cost? Something deeper. Something elemental. We¡¯ve traded one hell for another. At least this one sparkles. What¡¯s crazy is that technically, I¡¯m a Citizen¡ªwell, kind of. Born here, so it counts. But my parents? Straight-up Earthborn, which also makes me a Traveler. Travelers¡ªpeople like me, brought here by the Device¡ªalways end up a little¡­ off. Different. Something about stepping through that thing changes you, like the universe just can¡¯t decide where you really belong. We have the luxury of respawns, and with it, the madness it brings. Every death chips away at us, carves out pieces of our mind, our soul. Some lose memories. Others lose sanity. I¡¯ve watched friends forget their own names, seen them turn into husks of themselves, animated by nothing but instinct. Immortality is a cruel joke when it comes with madness as the punchline. The first time I died, I thought I¡¯d be fine. And I was¡ªor so I told myself. Barely noticed it. I¡¯ve been lucky; it only happened once. Most of us do our damnedest to avoid it. But the stories, man¡­ the stories stick with you.Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. We were taught that the respawn system would keep us safe, that death wasn¡¯t permanent here. They promised we¡¯d come back the same. But no one warned us about the pain¡ªlike having your soul ripped apart, shattered into pieces, then shoved back together with bits missing. One of my friends, Dex¡ªhe told me how he woke up after his first death, a chill sitting heavy in his bones, like something essential had been stripped away. At first, he didn¡¯t even notice what was gone. Weeks later, it hit him. He¡¯d forgotten the name of his first pet. Then the name of his first kiss. And the worst part? He hadn¡¯t realized it until he tried to remember weeks later. That¡¯s how it starts¡ªthe slow erosion of who you are. Every death leaves a scar, a hole you didn¡¯t have before. And after enough of them, the scars are all that¡¯s left. I think about my brother, Alexander, a lot these days. We were twins once¡ªstill are technically. But he''s changed. So much older than me now. I miss him. We had¡­ have the kind of bond you only get when you¡¯ve been forged in fire, clawing through hell together. He was the dreamer, always looking past the grime and rot to see the possibility of something better. Me? I was the one keeping us alive¡ªscrounging food, finding shelter, keeping the nightmares at bay. I wish it had been him who made it to Terra Mythica. He would¡¯ve been better for this place, maybe even thrived here. But I took his spot. His ticket. I didn¡¯t mean for him to get hurt, didn¡¯t mean for him to end up in a coma, hooked to machines back on Earth while I walked through that portal. But intent doesn¡¯t matter. Actions do. The irony? He got dragged here anyway. His consciousness, or whatever twisted fragment of it survived, caught in that glitchy nightmare we call the In Between. Not dead, not alive, just... stuck. The last time I saw him, he wasn¡¯t Alex anymore. Not really. His eyes had this strange look, like he¡¯d stared into something vast and terrible¡ªand won. And then there was the power¡ªraw, terrifying, and unnatural. It clung to him like static, crackling just beneath the surface. He had a strength, in ways I didn¡¯t understand, but it was trapped with him, locked in the In Between like a tiger in a cage. And I knew, deep down, that his prison was all my fault. Seeing him there was like staring at a ghost stitched together wrong. And what he said¡­ it didn¡¯t always track. He rambled about the "threads," how he could see them, how they were tangled, breaking. I didn¡¯t get it at the time. Hell, I barely get it now. But I think he was talking about the connection between worlds. The Convergence. The fragile ties holding our reality together, slowly unraveling like an old sweater. He told me I had to be ready. That I had to stop it. Then he was gone¡ªkicked me out of that twisted purgatory like a bouncer tossing a drunk. The look in his eyes before he vanished? That¡¯s the part that haunts me. Fear, sharp and cutting. Anger, boiling just beneath the surface. And sorrow. Yeah, that¡¯s all on me. Now we¡¯re gearing up for what the big shots are calling the Great Convergence. My father, the Dark One¡ªyep, that guy, the Eternal End¡¯s avatar¡ªis convinced this whole world is nothing but code. A beta test gone haywire. And you know what? It tracks, seeing as he was one of the original testers. His solution? Oh, nothing major¡ªjust blow it all to hell. Torch the whole thing like a bug-ridden hard drive. He says it¡¯s the only way to save my mother. She¡¯s lost somewhere in this realm, a ghost in the machine, a glitch among glitches. And here¡¯s the kicker¡ªhe¡¯s not entirely wrong. The problem is, saving her might mean destroying everything else. Everyone else. And I keep asking myself the same damn question: if it comes down to it, will I make the same mistake twice? 189. Jaces Journal Entry, Part 2 My mother. I don¡¯t remember much about her¡ªjust flashes, really. My father swears she¡¯s still here, trapped by the System, hidden away. He says everything he¡¯s done¡ªall the chaos, all the destruction¡ªhas been for her. To bring her back. And maybe he believes that. Or maybe he¡¯s just clinging to a shred of hope to justify all the blood on his hands. Or maybe¡ªjust maybe¡ªhe¡¯s telling the truth, and she¡¯s out there, waiting for someone to save her. I don¡¯t know. What I do know is, whatever he¡¯s planning? It¡¯s going to rip this world apart. My father thinks it¡¯s not real, but he¡¯s wrong. This is reality¡ªa different one than Earth, sure, but real all the same. Every scar, every loss, every moment. And perhaps that¡¯s what makes it worse. Because this place¡­ it¡¯s fractured. A patchwork of magic, tech, and lies. A shadow of something bigger, something more dangerous. And me? I¡¯m stuck in the middle, wielding powers I never asked for, tangled in a prophecy I want nothing to do with. This isn¡¯t just about magic or gods or survival. It¡¯s about everything. A collision of worlds, a war barreling toward us like a runaway freight train, and no one¡ªnot even the gods¡ªare ready for it. Least of all me. I didn¡¯t ask to be Hades¡¯ chosen, didn¡¯t volunteer to shepherd the dead through this chaos. But here I am, trying to keep them moving¡ªand trying even harder not to end up as one of them. And honestly? I¡¯m tired. Tired of prophecies, tired of the rules, tired of being shoved onto a path I never chose. I¡¯ve spent my whole life just trying to survive. Why do I always have to be the one to fight? Why can¡¯t I just¡­ live? Find a little peace? Have a relationship that doesn¡¯t end in betrayal or tragedy? Hell, a simple life filled with hot meals and soft beds would be nice. But no. Instead, I get this. A ¡°unique set of skills." My user interface¡ªsame as every Traveler here¡ªkeeps track of it all. Tracks the flow of energy, EXP gains, skill progression. It¡¯s like having an accountant strapped to my soul, tallying up my wins and losses. Without it? We¡¯d all probably end up like the first wave of Travelers here¡ªlosing our minds instantly, unable to process the changes this world forces on us. The System makes it easier, sure. Gives us numbers to cling to, progress bars to chase. It makes sense of the chaos. But it¡¯s also a damn lie. The system isn¡¯t here to help us. It¡¯s a cage, dressed up like a guide. A way to keep us playing the game, to keep us chasing the carrot. I¡¯ve seen the glitches, the cracks in its shiny facade. I¡¯ve seen how it nudges us, pushes us toward paths it wants us to take. Like rats in a maze, running in circles while someone else holds the cheese.Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. And here¡¯s the kicker: I don¡¯t know if there¡¯s a way out. Maybe this is all we are now¡ªplayers in someone else¡¯s game. Pawns on a board we didn¡¯t build, following rules we didn¡¯t write. And if there¡¯s no way to change that¡­ Then maybe it¡¯s time to flip the table. Everyone¡¯s got their way of coping, their ritual for keeping the chaos at bay. It¡¯s not just about survival¡ªit¡¯s about cultivation. In this world, conquering the universe earns you EXP, but keeping it? That¡¯s the trick. Fortifying those gains takes practice, discipline, and a little ingenuity. Cultivation is how we turn fleeting victories into lasting strength, anchoring ourselves against the storm. For me, it¡¯s alchemy. There¡¯s something about the act of creating¡ªmixing ingredients, measuring out powders, boiling potions¡ªthat makes sense when nothing else does. It¡¯s personal, tactile, real. Strange, considering I came from a world where food was a luxury and famine was the norm. And yet, my greatest joy isn¡¯t just in brewing potions that fizz with magic¡ªit¡¯s in making food. Real food. Meals that warm, that nourish. It¡¯s a small rebellion in a place so bent on destruction. I remember the first healing potion I ever made. It was crude, barely drinkable, and looked more like swamp water than anything medicinal. But I made it. And in that moment, for the first time since landing here, I felt like I had a sliver of control. Like I wasn¡¯t just surviving¡ªI was doing something that made this world a little less horrible. Alchemy isn¡¯t just about mixing things together. It¡¯s about transformation¡ªtaking something raw and turning it into something that heals, strengthens, or just makes you feel human again. It¡¯s a metaphor for everything I¡¯ve been through, honestly. Taking broken pieces, ugly fragments, and trying to shape them into something worthwhile. The hiss of a bubbling potion, the earthy smell of crushed herbs¡ªit keeps me grounded. It reminds me there are still parts of me that belong to me. In those moments, as fleeting as they are, I find something like peace. And when I can¡¯t do alchemy, I write. Journaling doesn¡¯t fix anything, but it gives me space to breathe, to process. Not that I think anyone will ever read this¡ªhell, I¡¯m not even sure I¡¯ll reread it¡ªbut still. Writing feels like a lifeline. A way to sort through the mess in my head. The last time I saw my brother, he told me to get ready. He said I needed to prepare for what¡¯s coming. He told me to find a prophecy, one hidden in something called the Mostly Harmless Prophecies by Rita Nutkins. Whatever the hell that is. He said I¡¯d need it to beat the Tower. The Tower. Thirty floors of pure, unrelenting hell, clawing at the horizon like a jagged wound in the sky. Each floor more treacherous than the last. They say it¡¯s a relic from some ancient war, a monument to hubris and destruction. Only citizens are supposed to have a shot at conquering it. But no one ever has. Travelers like me? We¡¯re capped at Floor Twenty-Five. Hard limit. Supposedly unbreakable. Then again, I¡¯m not your ordinary Traveler. But it¡¯s not like I have a choice. Not really. Alex told me I had to. That¡¯s reason enough, but it¡¯s not the whole truth. I have to climb it¡ªfor him, for me, for everyone who looks at us like we¡¯re nothing but pawns in a rigged game. I have to prove them wrong. Tomorrow, we head for the Tower in the Southeastern Stronghold. The colleges of the gods are gathering there for the Winter Games. Tomorrow, I figure out if I¡¯m the hero of this story, or just another pawn in a game I never wanted to play. 190. Underworld Incorporated, Part 1 Tomorrow. The word hung in Jace¡¯s mind like a blade suspended by a thread, sharp and inevitable. Tonight, though, he lay on his cot, staring at the jagged dance of shadows across the ceiling. The dim glow of his quarters cast everything in muted gray, the only splash of color the faint black smudges staining his fingertips. Ink, dark and stubborn, clung to his skin¡ªa relic from the journal entry he¡¯d poured himself into. His fingers bore the marks of hasty scribbles, crossed-out lines, and moments of hesitation where the quill had hovered too long over the page. In a world of vibrant magic, where gods shaped existence with a word and monsters shattered reality on a whim, it was strange that something as mundane as ink could unsettle him. It wasn¡¯t blood. It wasn¡¯t ash. Just ink. Yet the way it streaked his fingers, etched into the grooves of his skin, made him pause. Not because of what it was, but because of what it meant. The ink was a reminder of the words he¡¯d written¡ªhalf-formed thoughts, desperate questions, and fears he couldn¡¯t quite bring himself to say aloud. Proof that no matter how far he¡¯d come, no matter the power he¡¯d claimed, he was still human. Still fumbling with fragments of understanding, trying to stitch them together into something that made sense. He pressed his fingers together, smudging the ink further, feeling the slick, tacky texture grind between them. He let out a long, slow breath, as if he could exhale the weight of it all. The divine notification had come earlier, the sterile ping of the system as unfeeling as a factory bell. You are requested in the Underworld Offices before the Winter Games departure. Prepare. Prepare for what? Jace had no idea. Something awful, probably. It usually was. He sat up, dragging a hand through his hair and shaking off the fog of half-finished thoughts clinging to him like cobwebs. The faint tang of iron and ozone hung in the air, a lingering reminder of the summoning ritual he''d been working on earlier. The room still felt charged, like the echoes of his magic hadn¡¯t quite settled. He was experimenting¡ªtrying to mold weapons out of aether, shaping them into something tangible, something deadly. It was easier said than done. Ever since he Ranked up to Silver and unlocked Affinities for both Soul and Truth, he¡¯d felt¡­ sharper. The power coursing through him came with new insights, sure, but also new frustrations. His abilities listed on the Character Sheet were just the tip of the iceberg, the parts the System acknowledged because he was finally starting to grasp them. The rest? Those he¡¯d have to figure out on his own. Trial and error. Heavy on the error. He¡¯d figured out something most Travelers didn¡¯t: the System wasn¡¯t some benevolent force handing out powers like candy, or even dishing out EXP. It didn¡¯t grant anything. All it did was measure what was already there, tallying it up and filing it neatly so his mind could make sense of this bizarre new world. The System didn¡¯t give him power¡ªit just labeled it, organized it, and tried to help him not lose his grip on reality. The System wasn''t the cause, but rather, the effect. Lately, he¡¯d been focusing on Soul Swords¡ªblades formed from his will, drawn from the aether like molten light. For a few seconds, they felt real in his hands, humming with a power that was almost intoxicating. But they never lasted. The swords would flicker and vanish, draining his reserves faster than he could stabilize them.Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. The real issue was his aether pool. He wasn¡¯t just burning through it for the swords; a hefty chunk was being siphoned off constantly to fuel his Ring¡ªthe White Raven Familiar. It was still recovering, its essence fractured from the last battle it had, so many years ago, and the only way to nurse it back to full strength was to keep feeding it. It hurt¡ªboth his pride and his progression¡ªbut it felt worth it. Still, as he flexed his fingers and felt the telltale tingle of aether sparking beneath his skin, he couldn¡¯t help but wonder how much longer he could afford the cost. He checked its status, the progress bar crawling upward at an infuriatingly slow pace. 89% replenished. Close, but not close enough. He checked his inventory, fingers flicking through the menus with the ease of someone who¡¯d done it a thousand times. Each item, neatly cataloged by the System, appeared in glowing rows before him¡ªarmor, weapons, tools, even the odd trinket he wasn¡¯t sure why he¡¯d kept. He scrolled past the heavier sets, shaking his head. Too bulky. Not practical. Finally, he settled on a suit that struck the right balance: lightweight, reinforced, and versatile enough for both combat and travel¡ªit was something Twig had custom made for him. The material shimmered faintly as he selected it, the System automatically equipping it with a soft hum of aether. He gave himself a once-over in the mirror. Dark hair, perpetually tousled, framed stormy gray eyes that stared back at him with a weariness he couldn¡¯t quite shake. His face was lean, the kind of leanness born from too many skipped meals and too many nights spent running or fighting. His body told the same story¡ªhardened by necessity, sharpened by survival. But there was more now. Power thrummed beneath his skin, subtle but undeniable, a spark that hadn¡¯t been there before Terra Mythica. It didn¡¯t erase the scars or the sharp angles of his frame, but it added something else¡ªsomething otherworldly. Jace adjusted his robe, the black fabric clinging to him like shadow, the faint emblem of the white raven glinting on the back. ¡°Good enough,¡± Jace muttered, flexing his fingers and rolling his shoulders as the suit adjusted to his frame. He wasn¡¯t sure what he¡¯d need to face, but he wasn¡¯t about to show up unprepared. He straightened the moonstone pendant around his neck, letting out a slow, measured breath to steady himself. The Prismata Shard, its soft silver glow pulsing in time with his heartbeat, felt cool against his skin. It wasn¡¯t just jewelry or some flashy bauble. The shard could be worn or absorbed into him, its essence becoming a part of his very being. For now, he preferred to keep it external¡ªsomething tangible to anchor him. The pendant was more than a focus; it was a lifeline. A tether to the magic he was still struggling to fully control, a conduit that bridged his raw potential with the reality-bending forces of Terra Mythica. Without it, his power felt like a wild beast, barely leashed. With it? He had a chance to hold the chaos in his hands, to shape it, to wield it. He checked over his status screen, glances quickly at his progress. Silver Rank One. It sounded impressive until you realized how far there was to go. Two Words of Power. That was it. Two Words, two Affinities, barely enough to scrape by in a world crawling with gods and monsters. He¡¯d been practicing, trying to combine them, trying to unlock something greater. Progress came slow. The Fields Below stretched before him, an endless maze of caverns and tunnels carved into the heart of Mount Olympus University. When Jace had first arrived, this place had been little more than a forgotten corner of the campus, a neglected shrine for a god no one cared to worship anymore. Now, it was alive. 191. Underworld Incorporated, Part 2 Jace might¡¯ve been the only official Chosen of Hades, but ever since they¡¯d allowed Hecate¡ªthe goddess of magic¡ªto plant her banner under the same roof, the Fields Below had undergone a transformation that was impossible to ignore. What had once been little more than a desolate afterthought was now thriving. Hecate¡¯s presence had drawn students like moths to a flame, swelling their ranks into the hundreds. Each newcomer brought their points and ambitions, reshaping the Fields into something both awe-inspiring and distinctly underworldly. The caverns gleamed with crystals that pulsed faintly, as if the walls themselves had veins of living stone. Sanctuaries bathed in shadow sprouted up, places where whispers seemed to gather like secrets waiting to be uncovered. Then there were the gardens¡ªif you could call them that¡ªglowing softly with an otherworldly light. The plants looked more like something conjured from a fever dream than anything natural, their twisted blooms teetering between beautiful and unsettling. Hecate¡¯s influence was everywhere. Subtle, but impossible to miss. She had taken the Fields from a forgotten corner of Mount Olympus University to a sprawling, darkly vibrant labyrinth that hummed with life¡ªand, let¡¯s be honest, a fair amount of menace. Jace couldn¡¯t help but admire her handiwork. He might¡¯ve been Hades¡¯ chosen, but Hecate had turned the Fields into something people wanted to be a part of. If he was being honest, it felt less like he was running the place and more like he was just trying to keep up with her. Jace moved through the labyrinthine passages of the Underworld, the sound of his boots on stone echoing softly in the dim silence. Wisps of light and shadow flitted past him¡ªspirits, their forms insubstantial and shimmering, like faint memories of something lost. Hades had always been clear on his disdain for the undead, calling them an affront to the natural order. But spirits? Souls caught in the fragile space between existence and eternity? Those, he welcomed. Ahead, the faint glow of torchlight marked the entrance to the Underworld Offices, flickering like a neon sign beckoning him into something he wasn¡¯t entirely sure he wanted to deal with. Jace¡¯s dorms, tucked deep beneath Mount Olympus, had a direct path to the offices. Convenient, sure, but stepping into the place was always an exercise in surrealism. The door creaked open, and he strode into what could only be described as the Underworld¡¯s version of an office building. Rows of cubicles stretched out before him, the gray dividers worn and sagging slightly. Each desk held the relics of bureaucracy: yellowing stacks of parchment, quills that scratched at papers of their own accord, and glowing, ethereal screens displaying arcane symbols that defied translation. The spirits were everywhere. Some hovered at desks, their translucent forms flickering as they shuffled phantom papers or tapped at ancient keyboards that gave off faint whispers instead of clicks. Others floated through the aisles, carrying stacks of files that never seemed to shrink, their expressions a mix of focus and quiet resignation. Occasionally, a ghostly figure would pause to tidy up a desk or scribble something on a scroll, their movements precise and deliberate. Whatever tasks they were performing, they did so with purpose¡ªpurpose Jace couldn¡¯t quite make sense of. Maybe they were cataloging souls, balancing ledgers of life and death, or filing complaints about the conditions of the River Styx ferry service. It was unnervingly mundane for a place that existed between worlds, but it brought an odd kind of order to the chaos. And maybe that¡¯s why Jace didn¡¯t entirely hate it. Here, in the heart of the Underworld, there was structure. A hierarchy. Rules. The ghosts didn¡¯t speak to him as he passed, their silence a constant hum in the air. But their presence grounded him. They were a reminder that even in the dark, even in the strangest corners of existence, there was a kind of logic. A rhythm.Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. Up ahead, Jace spotted Jerry, his ghostly form faintly shimmering in the dim light. A small grin tugged at Jace¡¯s lips¡ªit was good to see him. For all the chaos in the Underworld, Jerry had a way of making the place feel a little less heavy. Jerry¡ªa ghostly figure with more personality than most mortals¡ªwas in the middle of what could only be described as a car-crash-in-slow-motion attempt at flirting with Barbara, the Underworld¡¯s receptionist. Barbara, with her towering beehive hairdo and sharp, cat-eye glasses, had perfected the art of looking unimpressed. ¡°...and, uh, I was thinking, maybe we could grab a coffee sometime?¡± Jerry stammered, his voice oscillating between hopeful and please-stop-this-now panic. Barbara arched one impeccable eyebrow. Her lips twitched, hovering somewhere between amusement and the kind of exasperation that could peel paint. ¡°I¡¯ll think about it,¡± she said, her tone cooler than a midnight ferry ride across the Styx. Jerry turned at the sound of Jace¡¯s footsteps, his face lighting up. ¡°Jace! Perfect timing! Been a while, huh?¡± Jerry called out, his translucent form flickering slightly as he jogged to meet him. Falling into step beside Jace, he floated more than walked, keeping pace effortlessly as they headed toward the elevator. ¡°Jerry,¡± Jace said, smirking as he took in the scene. ¡°How¡¯s the love life?¡± Jerry let out a dry laugh. ¡°You know how office romances go. Got a bit of a Will-They, Won''t-They thing going as always.¡± Jace just smiled. Jerry floated backward a few inches, his hands spread wide in a theatrical shrug. ¡°Love is a marathon, not a sprint.¡± ¡°Bit of a treadmill, in your case?¡± ¡°Harsh,¡± Jerry said, grinning faintly. ¡°But fair.¡± "I''m sorry, I''m just kidding, Jerry. You''ve got this," Jace said, smirking. "She said she¡¯d think about it. That¡¯s progress, right?" Jerry¡¯s face lit up, his translucent form shimmering faintly. ¡°Yeah, another hundred years or so, I think we might have a real date.¡± The two of them moved down the dimly lit aisle, passing cubicles where spirits flickered in and out of view. Jace gestured toward one particularly frantic spirit, whose attempts at organizing files were hampered by the fact that they kept slipping through its intangible hands. ¡°Busy day in the afterlife?¡± Jerry chuckled, the sound hollow and echoing like an empty hallway. ¡°Oh, you¡¯d be surprised. End-of-cycle quotas, reincarnation petitions, complaints from hauntings¡ªit¡¯s all part of the job. And don¡¯t even get me started on the bureaucracy around exorcisms.¡± ¡°Sounds thrilling,¡± Jace said. ¡°Oh, it¡¯s a riot,¡± Jerry said in genuine excitement. As they reached the end of the aisle, the Underworld Elevator loomed before them. Its black iron doors were intricately carved with glowing sigils, each one pulsing like a heartbeat. Jace smiled and clapped Jerry on the shoulder out of reflex, only to pause mid-motion when he remembered Jerry was a ghost. He half-expected his hand to pass through¡ªbut it didn¡¯t. Instead, there was resistance, a faint but solid presence. His Soul Affinity flared, a sudden surge of awareness coursing through him, and the realization hit: he could touch ghosts. ¡°Good luck, Casanova.¡± Jerry saluted, a half-hearted wave of his hand as Jace stepped into the elevator. ¡°Oh! Remember, Jace,¡± Jerry said, his voice echoing faintly as the elevator doors began to slide shut. ¡°The only difference between ordinary and extraordinary is that little extra.¡± Jace snorted, shaking his head as the doors sealed with a soft thunk, separating them. He leaned back against the cool iron of the elevator and pressed the single button engraved with Hades¡¯ sigil. The doors slid shut with a whisper, sealing him in as the elevator began its smooth, silent descent. ¡°Down we go,¡± Jace muttered, bracing himself for whatever came next. Girl from Ipanema played softly, and Jace found himself nodding along to the familiar tune. 192. Adventures with Bob
The mist parted like something alive, curling away to reveal the ferry cutting through the water with eerie precision. It moved without a sound, no splash, no creak, as though the Styx itself wanted no record of its passage. The boat was small, almost frail-looking, its planks dark and warped, like they¡¯d been dredged up from some long-forgotten shipwreck. Yet it moved with an inevitability that made Jace¡¯s skin crawl. Jace¡¯s shoes crunched against the rocky shore as he stepped closer, watching the ferry glide to a stop, before stepping in. The figure at the helm was little more than a shadow¡ªa hooded outline against the fog. Its skeletal hands gripped the oar with practiced ease, each movement precise, deliberate, and indifferent. The hood turned ever so slightly in Jace¡¯s direction, clearly waiting for payment. Pulling up his sleeve, Jace showed the Mark of Hades inked into his skin. The tattoo shimmered to life, glowing silver in the gloom, casting pale streaks of light that danced across the Ferryman¡¯s unmoving frame. It wasn¡¯t just a mark¡ªit was his coin, his ticket, his frequent-flyer pass to the underworld¡¯s exclusive club of the damned. The shadow moved his hood ever so slightly. Not a nod, barely even an acknowledgment, and started rowing into the darkness. "Bob," Jace said, "My guy. My dude. How¡¯s the eternal grind treating you these days?" The Ferryman didn¡¯t answer. He never did. Just rowed. The ferry cut through the Styx with the silence of a predator in dark waters. Its gliding was almost hypnotic. Jace sprawled on his favorite spot¡ªa part of the bench that was marginally less likely to give him tetanus. "Always the strong, silent type," Jace continued, leaning forward, elbows on knees like they were old pals at a dive bar. "I respect that about you. And you know what? I¡¯ve been thinking. You¡¯re a workhorse, Bob. The backbone of the underworld. No breaks, no sick days." The silence stretched. Bob¡¯s hood didn¡¯t even twitch. "I mean, look at you," Jace said, his smile widening. "Centuries¡ªno, millennia¡ªof ferrying poor bastards across a literal death river, and what do you get? Spooky vibes and maybe a dental plan if you¡¯re lucky. Not even a gold watch at the end of it. You ever think about unionizing? Getting some time off? A little vacation in the Elysian Fields, maybe? Picture it: you, a hammock, and a mai tai with one of those little umbrellas. That¡¯s the dream, Bob."Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. The boat dipped as it hit a ripple, the movement barely noticeable, but Jace was certain it was Bob¡¯s version of rolling his eyes. "See? Even the river agrees with me," Jace teased, tapping his temple. "I¡¯ve got ideas, Bob. Big ideas." A long pause stretched between them, heavy as the mist curling around the ferry. This was the part Jace hated¡ªthe silence. No matter how many times he made the trip, the Styx still got under his skin. The water wasn¡¯t just black; it was a black that felt alive, like it was watching, waiting. He leaned back on the bench, trying to shake off the unease. Silence might have been Bob¡¯s thing, but Jace wasn¡¯t built for it. He¡¯d rather face a hydra than let the quiet creep in. ¡°Alright, Bob,¡± he said. Bob¡¯s hood didn¡¯t move. The oar dipped into the water, smooth and steady, the sound slicing through the stillness like a clock ticking down. ¡°Why don¡¯t skeletons fight each other?¡± Nothing. ¡°They don¡¯t have the guts." He punctuated it with finger guns, his grin widening. The water lapped at the edges of the ferry in what Jace could¡¯ve sworn was an audible groan. ¡°Tough room,¡± Jace muttered, leaning back again. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ve got a million of ¡®em.¡± He could almost sense the relief radiating from Bob as the shore came into view, the dark outline of jagged rocks breaking through the mist. The ferry eased to a stop with the grace of a creature settling into its lair. Jace stood, stretching lazily. ¡°Well, Bob, as always, it¡¯s been an absolute delight,¡± he said, stepping onto the creaking planks of the dock. He shot the Ferryman a two-fingered salute. ¡°Five stars. Would recommend. You¡¯re a treasure, buddy.¡± He turned, ready to stride off into the gloom, when a voice stopped him cold. Low and gravelly, it scraped the air like nails dragged across coffin wood. ¡°You get two. Talk too much.¡± Jace froze mid-step, his head whipping around so fast he almost gave himself whiplash. Bob sat unmoving, the hood concealing whatever passed for a face, the oar steady in his skeletal grip. ¡°You¡ª¡± Jace pointed an incredulous finger, his voice caught somewhere between shock and laughter. ¡°Did you just¡ª? Bob! You son of a¡ª¡± But the mist was already swallowing the ferry, taking Bob and his impossible sass with it. Jace stood there for a moment, stunned, before a laugh burst out of him, wild and unrestrained. ¡°Two stars,¡± he muttered, shaking his head as he started walking. ¡°Unbelievable.¡± 193. Hanging with Hades
Hades¡¯ chamber stood as if carved from the essence of night itself. The ceiling soared into vanishing blackness. Walls rippled faintly with the shimmer of dying stars, the constellations caught in their final sighs, tiny glimmers of reverence for their ruler. At the center of the chamber, Hades stood¡ªa figure of daunting grace. His robes flowed in restless waves of liquid umbra, the fabric shifting like ink spilled into water. His presence pressed against the senses, his angular face a study in measured power. Eyes that seemed to hold the first secret of creation met Jace¡¯s with an unrelenting pressure¡ªa balance of humor, curiosity, and a threat so sharp it seemed to hum in the air. Curled beside the throne, Cerberus slumbered. The three-headed beast was a mass of black fur and primal muscle, each head resting at a different angle and flopped over the other, their rhythmic breathing stirring faint wisps of ash and shadow from the ground. Even in sleep, the creature radiated menace, a reminder that the Underworld¡¯s gates were never unguarded. Leaning against the throne, Persephone was a study in contradictions. Her hair, a cascade of wild wheat and untamed sunlight, framed a face that radiated life so vibrant it felt almost blinding in this place of death. But beneath the golden beauty was a quiet, sharp edge¡ªdarkness woven into the lines of her expression, a reminder of her dominion in this shadowed world. One hand rested lightly on the throne¡¯s back, her nails tracing idle patterns into the armrest, her posture the perfect blend of poise and danger. ¡°Jace,¡± Hades said, his voice rich and smooth, like molten honey poured over thunder. He leaned casually against his obsidian throne, one boot resting on the edge of a dais. ¡°Kid, how in the Underworld are ya?¡± His tone carried the burden of ancient mountains but was delivered with the easy charm of someone who¡¯d long since stopped taking themselves too seriously. Jace took a hesitant step forward, his boots scuffing against the cool stone floor. ¡°Hanging in there,¡± Jace replied, shrugging. ¡°Not dead yet.¡± ¡°Atta boy.¡± Hades grinned, his teeth flashing white against his shadowed face. ¡°Not dead yet. Love that for you.¡± He gave a distracted wave of his hand, as if dismissing the thought before his eyes flicked back to Jace. ¡°So, what¡¯s the deal? You come down here to raid my fridge, or is there something I can do for you?¡± Jace¡¯s shadow rippled and stretched unnaturally with each step, spilling across the marble floor in distorted shapes that seemed to writhe with a life of their own. When he stopped, he inclined his head¡ªa shallow, instinctive bow, more reflex than reverence. ¡°You summoned me,¡± he said, his voice measured and steady. Yet beneath the surface, it thrummed with tension, like a string pulled to the edge of breaking. ¡°Right, yes. That I did.¡± Hades¡¯ reply was casual, almost too casual, as if he were testing the waters with every word. Jace¡¯s gaze flicked to Persephone. She met it and gave the slightest nod, but her eyes spoke louder than words. This is a risk. The glance she exchanged with Hades hinted at something unspoken, an agreement fraught with uncertainty. Whatever game they were playing, Hades was keeping his cards far too close to his chest. Hades nodded, a subtle dip of his chin. His hand, pale as the moonlight that never reached this realm, gestured for Jace to approach. ¡°Tomorrow, the Winter Games await you,¡± he said, his tone unhurried but inescapable, as if each word was etched in the bedrock of reality itself. Jace hesitated but took another step forward. The flickering light from the braziers danced across his face, painting him in fleeting half-light. The air thickened as Hades spoke again, the chamber seeming to lean in, devouring the sound of his words. ¡°The Games are more than sport,¡± Hades continued, his words slow and deliberate. ¡°They are belief made flesh, power given form. Every swing of the sword, every drop of blood feeds the divine. It binds us, Jace¡ªgods and mortals alike.¡±Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. ¡°Could you maybe dial down the poetry a notch?¡± Jace said, rubbing the back of his neck. ¡°Didn¡¯t get much sleep, and I¡¯m not sure I¡¯ve got the bandwidth for it right now.¡± Jace thought he might have caught the faintest smile ghost across Persephone¡¯s lips, but if it had been, it vanished just as quickly, leaving her expression unreadable. ¡°Plain terms¡ªfacing the Tower is a big deal. Amongst the gods, the higher our patrons go, the more prestige shines upon us,¡± he said, the words soft yet ironclad. ¡°So, in essence, this is a pep talk. ¡®Don¡¯t muff it up, kid. All eyes are on you.¡¯ That sort of thing?¡± Jace¡¯s tone carried dry humor, but his eyes betrayed a flicker of doubt. ¡°In the most basic sense, sure,¡± Hades said, his voice a low rumble. ¡°But do you truly understand what it means to be Chosen, young prince of Roandia?¡± Jace straightened under the power of that question, his reply steady but uncertain. ¡°It means we struck a deal, at the start of my term here. You would be my patron, and I¡¯d serve under your banner.¡± Persephone¡¯s lips curved in a faint smile as she listened, this time not hiding it, her golden hair catching the dim, flickering light. Hades, however, frowned, his sharp features etched with something between disappointment and amusement. ¡°Yes, yes, that¡¯s quite true,¡± Hades said, his tone almost dismissive. ¡°But what does it mean to be Chosen? Are you familiar with how gods grow in power? From where our strength derives?¡± Jace hesitated, turning the question over in his mind. ¡°I¡­ don¡¯t know,¡± he admitted finally. Hades leaned forward, his pale fingers steepling beneath his chin. ¡°From you, Jason. And others like you. From our followers, our worshippers. Power flows to us through belief, action, and acknowledgment. When you strike down an enemy of the Underworld, when you free a soul, it is a form of tribute. You and all of my followers add up to my power.¡± ¡°I thought I was your only Chosen,¡± Jace said, confusion knitting his brow. Hades laughed then, a low, rolling sound that carried more shadow than mirth. ¡°Oh, boy, you are my only Chosen. That much is true. But I have followers¡ªthousands upon thousands of them. Do not mistake being Chosen for being singular.¡± The room seemed to darken as Hades¡¯ voice gained substance. ¡°A follower can be anyone who offers a prayer, makes a sacrifice, fights under a banner, or even acts in alignment with a domain. Work for freedom, and you empower the gods of freedom. Obsess over science, and you pour power into the gods and goddesses of discovery. Every act, every belief, every small devotion feeds the gods. Unaligned individuals¡ªthose without a patron¡ªscatter their energy like seeds in the wind, shared among the deities of a domain. Fight for a soul¡¯s right to move on, and you step into my domain¡ªmine and my understudies, Pluto, Anubis, Hel, and the rest of my counterparts across Mythica.¡± His pale hand gestured, a flicker of shadow trailing his movements. ¡°But those under my banner, those who declare themselves as mine, grant their offerings directly to me. Think of it as¡­ godly experience points. We grow stronger because of you.¡± Jace nodded slowly, the pieces clicking into place. ¡°I think I get it.¡± Hades arched an eyebrow, his expression faintly amused. ¡°Do you? A Chosen is not just a follower, Jason. A Chosen is a conduit. You are an extension of me, tied closer to my essence than most mortals ever dream of being. Through you, I can grant my gifts more freely and claim a greater share of the tokens you generate.¡± Jace¡¯s throat tightened. ¡°So I¡¯m like, what¡­ a sales rep?¡± Hades took a deep, measured breath and shook his head before he continued. ¡°At your level, you¡¯re power is but an echo of my presence. But the higher ranks of a Chosen are called Avatar¡ªthe top is known as the Voice. A Voice speaks with my authority, wields my gifts in their purest form, and acts as a true vessel of my will.¡± Persephone¡¯s smile deepened, a flicker of warning dancing in her eyes as Hades leaned closer, his gaze piercing. ¡°But let me be clear¡ªthis comes at a cost. If I were to elevate you to Voice now, your mind would shatter like glass, your soul bursting free of your body, leaving scraps of you for old Cerberus to clean up.¡± The three-headed beast stirred at the mention of its name, one massive head rising to scan the room before settling back down with a low, rumbling sigh, its tails curling closer around its hulking body. ¡°Then let¡¯s avoid that,¡± he said, his voice dry but resolute. Hades chuckled, a sound that carried both approval and menace. ¡°Smart boy.¡± 194. Avatar
¡°This next part is important, Chosen,¡± Hades said, his tone heavy. ¡°A god is bound by certain rules. Rules between the gods. We call them the Golden Accords. One of these limits the amount of power we may grant to our Chosen. Each god can only grant a fraction of their tokens¡ªtheir divine power¡ªbased on how many followers we have and how many serve directly under our banner. However, it doesn¡¯t matter how many Chosen a god has. The power granted is divided among them all¡­ equally.¡± Jace furrowed his brow, trying to piece it together. ¡°Kind of like the conservation of ninjitsu?¡± he said, the corners of his mouth twitching as he recalled grainy action movies watched on battered VHS tapes with his brother. Hades arched a brow. ¡°The what?¡± ¡°It¡¯s this old rule from action movies,¡± Jace explained, his tone light despite the somber atmosphere. ¡°The more enemies there are, the weaker they all seem. But when there¡¯s only one enemy? That one enemy gets all the juice¡ªall the ninjitsu.¡± Hades tilted his head, considering the odd analogy, then gave a slow nod. ¡°I suppose, in a sense, yes. The conservation of¡­ ninjitsu.¡± The faintest hint of a smile touched Persephone¡¯s lips as she glanced at her husband. ¡°Because you are my only Chosen, I can afford certain leniencies with the power I grant you.¡± Jace¡¯s eyes widened slightly. ¡°This is huge. Why didn¡¯t you tell me sooner?¡± Hades¡¯ expression darkened, the humor vanishing like a shadow under harsh light. ¡°Because the power I can grant doesn¡¯t come without strings, boy. You¡¯ve had a taste of it already. Surely, you¡¯ve begun to notice the effects.¡± Jace frowned, his mind flickering back to moments when his abilities had felt¡­ different. Unnatural, almost. He nodded subtly. Hades nodded, his gaze piercing. ¡°The powers of the Underworld are not to be taken lightly. Too much, too soon, and they will leave their mark on you. They can taint your journey, warp your Affinities. Gods who are wise,¡± his gaze flicked toward Persephone, ¡°are careful with their gifts. When I made you my Chosen, I granted you small boons to aid you on your path, but even those have altered how your Affinities developed. Have you noticed anything¡­ unusual about your abilities?¡± Jace hesitated before nodding. ¡°There¡¯s one thing. It doesn¡¯t fit with anything else I¡¯ve learned. I can¡­ absorb the aether from beings I kill.¡± Hades¡¯ eyes flickered with surprise, though he quickly masked it. ¡°I see,¡± he murmured, leaning back in his throne. ¡°This is¡­ something I have encountered before. Though, only once.¡± ¡°With my father?¡± Jace asked, his voice sharpening. ¡°Yes,¡± Hades said simply. ¡°The ability itself is neither good nor evil. It¡¯s a tool, nothing more. But it is potent. You¡¯re tapping into the aether directly, Jason. Most mortals do this unconsciously when they gain experience¡ªEXP, as you call it. But you¡­¡± He paused. ¡°You¡¯re doing it intentionally. With enough mastery, you may siphon far more than your peers. Ten times the energy, perhaps even enough to absorb the strength of a creature without having to kill it outright.¡± Jace¡¯s mouth went dry, his mind racing. ¡°And my Soul Tether ability,¡± he said after a moment. ¡°When I connect to a creature, I can pull some of its attributes. When I tethered to a hydra, I gained part of its healing factor.¡± Hades inclined his head, his expression grave. ¡°Exactly. These changes might have come naturally, but my boons have amplified them, weaving into the fabric of your abilities. The more I grant you, the more pronounced these changes will become. Even so¡­¡± His voice trailed off, his eyes narrowing as he studied Jace. ¡°Given what lies ahead, you may need them.¡± ¡°What do you mean?¡± Jace asked, his voice quiet but steady. ¡°The territory you¡¯re entering is neutral ground among the gods,¡± Hades said, leaning forward. ¡°You will face scrutiny¡ªintense scrutiny. Many will see you just as my only Chosen, my single representative in these games. And single means more dangerous. Some will resent that. Some will want you dead.¡±If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. Jace tensed, his fists clenching. ¡°I can handle myself.¡± Hades¡¯ lips twisted into a faint, humorless smile. ¡°You¡¯ll have to. While you¡¯ll carry the abilities my boons have awakened, you must be ready to fight without my direct intervention. There are¡­ old wounds that haven¡¯t quite closed between me and some of my counterparts. For that reason, my aid will be limited. And once you step into the Tower, all gods¡ªmyself included¡ªwill be cut off entirely.¡± Jace nodded, the gravity of the situation settling over him like a heavy mantle. ¡°I understand.¡± ¡°Do you? With great power, Jace, comes something else.¡± ¡°Like, responsibility?¡± Jace asked, tilting his head. Hades stared at him, unblinking. ¡°What? No. Who said anything about responsibility?¡± His voice carried a faint ripple of disdain, like the idea itself was offensive. ¡°No, this kind of power exacts a cost¡ªone far graver than you realize. Take too much, too soon, and it will twist the very core of who you are, altering your path forever. Your abilities won¡¯t just grow; they¡¯ll bind you more tightly to the Underworld. To me.¡± His voice was barely more than a breath, swallowed whole by the responsibility of the Underworld. ¡°Care to elaborate? I mean, I¡¯m all for ominous and vague warnings but not sure I can do much with them.¡± Pride danced in his eyes, subtle but unmistakable, the kind a warrior might show to a recruit who hadn¡¯t yet flinched. ¡°This power isn¡¯t a gift¡ªit¡¯s a trade, and it always demands its toll,¡± Hades said, his voice flat, unyielding, and cold enough to make the air feel heavier. ¡°You¡¯ll have allies, people you think you can lean on. But trust them sparingly. The gods, Jace¡­ the gods play games within games. They will move you like a pawn, manipulate you, twist you until you¡¯re nothing more than a piece to be sacrificed. If you let them.¡± He paused, his dark eyes locking onto Jace¡¯s. ¡°I¡¯ll do what I can to strengthen you against them. To make you something more than just a piece on their board. But don¡¯t fool yourself¡ªI might break you in the process. You mortals, even the so-called long-lived ones, are so¡­ fragile.¡± The word hung in the air like a blade over Jace¡¯s head. ¡°Now kneel, Chosen, and I¡¯ll bestow the gift.¡± The pressure hit like a physical force, a weight pressing down on Jace¡¯s shoulders, urging him to kneel. But something deep inside him¡ªthe stubborn, rebellious core that had carried him this far¡ªrose up in defiance. ¡°Kneeling seems a bit¡­ old-fashioned, doesn¡¯t it?¡± Jace said, forcing his voice to stay steady, though his knees trembled. Hades raised an eyebrow, a flicker of amusement ghosting across his face. ¡°I daresay your stubbornness will either be the end or the making of you, Jason. But fine. It was mostly to keep you from falling on your ass, anyway. So, have it your way.¡± And then it hit. A surge of darkness and twilight erupted from Hades¡¯ hands, spilling out like a tidal wave of shadow and raw power. The force struck Jace square in the chest, slamming him to the floor. The world around him twisted, folded, and shattered in flashes of black and violet light. This was it¡ªthe precipice, the moment where everything changed. The last fragile thread tethering him to the life he once knew frayed, snapped, and was consumed in the void. The power roared into him, not as a gentle tide but as a hurricane, tearing through him with reckless abandon. It unmade him¡ªdissolving every barrier, every wall he¡¯d built around himself¡ªbefore knitting him back together in ways he couldn¡¯t comprehend. He gasped, his lungs burning, the pain both a wound and a revelation, feeding on each other like two serpents swallowing their tails. For a fleeting, brilliant moment, the world shattered open before him. He saw it not as a man, but as something more. The intricate web of existence unraveled in his mind¡ªthreads of light and shadow twisting together in impossible patterns. Life and death, magic and matter, all bound together in a tapestry so breathtaking it ached to look upon it. His mortal mind buckled, barely able to hold the understanding, and for an instant, he thought he might break. He felt himself shifting backward, as if untethered from the confines of his body. Two feet, three, five, ten¡ªuntil he was hovering above it all, looking down on Hades, Persephone, and¡­ himself. But not himself. His body. For the first time, he truly felt the divide, the line that separated what he was from his physical form. The thing that had traveled across universes, shedding layers like old skin. The him that was the real him¡ªthe essence, the core¡ªfloated apart, weightless and vast, as if it had always been waiting to break free. And then, just as suddenly as it began, it ended. Jace crumpled to the cold stone floor, his knees striking hard enough to send jolts of pain up his legs. He gasped for air, clawing it back into his lungs, his body trembling violently with the aftershocks of the power that had coursed through him. Jace raised his head, his body still trembling. His voice, when it came, was hoarse but steady. ¡°I should¡¯ve kneeled.¡± 195. All Eyes Hades stepped forward, his towering shadow blanketing Jace¡¯s collapsed form. The god¡¯s voice was a steady rumble, heavier now, more tangible. ¡°As my followers grow, so too will your power. A fragment of what they give will feed your abilities. And as your own capabilities expand¡ªyour capacity to wield this energy¡ªI will grant you more. But make no mistake, Jace. It must be earned. Prove yourself worthy of it.¡± Jace blinked, his vision swimming, just as the interface flared in his mind, its cold, sterile pings cutting through the haze like distant bells. Jace felt the changes surging through him, raw and unrelenting. The power coursed through his veins, igniting every nerve, every cell, until it felt like his very essence was being rewritten. The shift was undeniable, a fundamental reordering of what he was and what he could be. His senses sharpened, the world around him snapping into vivid, almost overwhelming clarity. He could hear the faint hum of energy in the air, feel the subtle vibrations in the ground beneath him, as if the earth itself was alive and speaking. His muscles coiled with newfound strength, power humming beneath his skin, ready to explode at a thought. His mind was faster, sharper, as if a veil had been lifted. Ideas, connections, realizations¡ªthey all came in a rush, like floodgates thrown wide open. He wasn¡¯t just stronger¡ªhe was more.
System Update Title Unlocked: Avatar of Hades Boon¡ªBlessing of the Fallen: +50% to all stats. New Abilities Unlocked:
  • Rebirth Anchor: Establish a respawn point, capable of evolving to absorb nearby magic. The anchor serves as both a sanctuary for recovery and a trap for enemies. Its power grows with each successful use, enhancing its protective properties.
  • Chains of Oblivion: Summon dark chains forged in the depths of the underworld. The chains bind enemies and siphon their strength into you, healing you or enhancing your abilities. Potency and duration increase with experience.
  • Shadespeak: Commune with the dead, gaining their insights, memories, or even their aid.
Status: All enhancements successfully integrated. Looks like you just got an upgrade, amigo. Someone¡¯s popular.
The words on the interface blurred, dissolving into insignificance against the raw energy coursing beneath Jace¡¯s skin. Jace reread Jack¡¯s little note for him. It had been a while since the System had spoken directly to him like that, and if Jace was being honest, he was starting to miss it. There was something oddly comforting about its detached, omniscient presence¡ªand that, for all its cryptic nature, never lied. Hades regarded him for a long moment, his gaze laced with an emotion that hovered just shy of kindness yet couldn¡¯t be called unkind. ¡°Now, if you¡¯ll excuse me, you¡¯ve got new powers to master, and I have matters that require my attention.¡± With a deliberate sweep of his cloak, he turned, his shadow curling behind him like a living entity slipping back into the dark. Persephone watched in silence, her expression unreadable, a statue carved from something more timeless than stone. Just before disappearing from sight, Hades called back over his shoulder. ¡°Oh, and don¡¯t muff it up, kid. All eyes are on you.¡± And then he was gone. Jace pushed himself to his feet, legs trembling under the burden of divinity, his breath still coming in ragged gasps. The ache in his muscles wasn¡¯t just exhaustion¡ªit was the strain of holding something far greater than he was meant to. The journey back to the dock felt longer and when he arrived, the dock was empty¡ªno boat in sight. ¡°Figures,¡± Jace muttered under his breath. He looked out over the still, black water stretching infinitely into the unknown.If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. A sudden glow lit the corner of his vision. A small, vibrant green ball of light darted toward him, zipping in erratic circles before hovering a few feet away. ¡°Pik,¡± Jace said softly, feeling a surge of unexpected joy. ¡°Been a while. How in Terra Mythica are you?¡± Pik buzzed, the sound somewhere between an over-wound violin string and a laugh too eager to hold back. It bobbed up and down, radiating energy that practically screamed hello. Jace tilted his head, studying the little creature. ¡°You know what¡¯s odd¡­ I think I knew you,¡± he said, his voice quieter now, tinged with something close to awe. ¡°Back when I was a baby, right?¡± The light flared briefly, bouncing in a way that felt suspiciously like a nod. Jace exhaled, dragging a hand through his hair. ¡°How do I know? No, no one told me. It¡¯s just¡ªmy Truth Affinity¡ªit¡¯s like I get flashes, pieces of stuff I shouldn¡¯t know. Memories I shouldn¡¯t have. It¡¯s like trying to watch a puzzle assemble itself while someone keeps flipping the pieces upside down.¡± Pik buzzed again, this time with a deeper vibration, and for a moment, Jace felt it¡ªa rush of images, sensations, and emotions flooding his mind, like someone whispering a story directly into his thoughts. It wasn¡¯t words, exactly, but it was clear. The concept that came back was friend and something about an offer to help. His brow furrowed, and he leaned closer. ¡°Hold on¡­ Did I just understand you?¡± The buzzing shifted, sharper now, almost like laughter. Jace¡¯s lips twitched into a half-smile, a mix of disbelief and amusement. ¡°Well, that¡¯s new. You¡¯ve been holding out on me, haven¡¯t you, Pik? Or is it my new abilities?¡± Pik¡¯s glow pulsed in a way that was undeniably cheeky. Jace chuckled, shaking his head, the warmth of ease settling over him. But, the moment didn¡¯t last. A subtle movement tugged at the corner of his vision, a shadow stirring where no shadow should be. His amusement drained away, replaced by instinct as his hand snapped to his sword. The blade whispered free, its edge gleaming in the faint light. For a heartbeat, it felt like control. A burst of light spread through the hilt, and then¡ªjust like that¡ªcontrol was gone. Flowers sprouted along the blade¡¯s edge, delicate blossoms of pink and white climbing the steel like ivy, soft and completely useless. Jace blinked at the floral betrayal, then at Pik, whose glow had dimmed to something suspiciously akin to embarrassment. ¡°You¡¯ve got to be kidding me,¡± he muttered, the shadow creeping closer. Laughter rang out, soft and musical. ¡°Grayson,¡± Persephone said, stepping from the shadows, her golden hair catching the faint light like a halo. Jace sighed, lowering the flower-covered sword. ¡°Perseph,¡± he replied with a tilt of his head, his voice dry. ¡°Nice trick.¡± Her lips quirked in amusement. ¡°Perseph?¡± she repeated, her tone curious. ¡°What?¡± Jace shrugged, the picture of nonchalance. ¡°You gods get to call me whatever you want¡ªJason, Grayson, yadda yadda. So, fair¡¯s fair. I get to hand out nicknames too. Now, what¡¯s the deal? Here to try and sucker me into another quest? Because spoiler alert¡ªI¡¯m not so easy to manipulate these days.¡± She arched a brow, her expression teetering between amusement and mild annoyance, but ultimately let it slide. ¡°No tricks, no manipulation,¡± she replied, her voice smooth and lilting, but with an edge sharp enough to draw blood. ¡°I came to offer advice. Take it or don¡¯t¡ªthat part is up to you.¡± ¡°Oh?¡± Jace crossed his arms, his wariness plain. ¡°And what¡¯s the catch?¡± ¡°No catch.¡± Her gaze softened, though it still held its unyielding edge. ¡°In what¡¯s to come, remember your friends. They will be your greatest strength.¡± Her voice dropped, quieter now, but carrying a gravity that seemed to settle into the marrow of his bones. ¡°Sometimes, the darkness is not your enemy but your ally. And remember, Grayson, that the largest tree grows from the smallest seed.¡± She raised her hand, and a small pinprick of light appeared between her fingers. It hovered there, glowing faintly, before she released it. The light drifted downward, touching the ground and sprouting into a tiny tree, its branches glowing with a radiant warmth that filled the space for a fleeting moment. Then it vanished, the light fading into nothingness. As did Persephone. ¡°Great,¡± Jace muttered, throwing his hands in the air. ¡°Just once¡ªonce¡ªI¡¯d like to have a chat with a god and skip the whole riddle routine. Is that too much to ask?¡° He shook his head, frustration simmering beneath his breath. He stared at the spot where Persephone had stood moments ago, now empty as if she¡¯d never been there. From the shadows at the water¡¯s edge, Bob emerged with his rickety old boat, the skeletal ferryman framed against the dim, eerie glow of the underworld. Of course. Jace let out a long sigh and climbed into the boat, casting a side-eye at Bob. ¡°Oh, don¡¯t even start, Bob. I know you were out there in the dark, biding your time, stalling me for Persephone.¡± Bob didn¡¯t speak. Jace groaned, dragging a hand down his face. ¡°Yeah, thought so. And here I was, thinking we were bros, Bob. Bros don¡¯t leave bros hanging like that.¡± Bob¡¯s shoulders twitched, a motion so slight it could almost be mistaken for a shrug. By the time Jace reached his quarters in the Fields Below, the faint pink dust from the flowers had disappeared, leaving no trace. Jace could still feel it, lingering beneath his skin¡ªthe power, the gift¡ªa reminder of what had changed and the brittle humanity he fought to hold onto. A gift in preparation for whatever was coming tomorrow. Tomorrow. The word hung in the air, neither promise nor threat, just a certainty. Tomorrow, everything would change. 196. Character Sheet Jace checked his character sheet, noting a few major changes. Character Sheet: Jace/Jason (Greyson, Lost Prince of Roandia) Speaker Rank: Silver One Class Title: Twilight Guardian, Avatar of Hades Words of Power / Affinities: Soul + Truth President of the Society of Hades Resources: 5 silver, 16 copper. Attributes
  • Strength: 57
  • Dexterity: 69
  • Intelligence: 85
  • Wisdom: 99
  • Constitution: 56
  • Charisma: 37
  • Spirit Constitution: 99
  • Karmic Balance: 24
Avatar of Hades Congratulations, you¡¯ve ascended to the Chosen Rank of Avatar! While most Chosen merely wander around playing helper for their patrons, you are in the big leagues now. You¡¯re not just a volunteer anymore¡ªyou¡¯re officially on the payroll. Welcome to adulthood, kid. Your benefits package includes:This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.
  • Unlimited dining privileges in the Underworld (don¡¯t ask what¡¯s on the menu).
  • Zero vacation days (because who needs a break when you¡¯re dead half the time?).
  • A highly probable chance of being squashed, obliterated, or otherwise annihilated by rival gods on any given Tuesday.
Good luck, champ. You¡¯re going to need it! The following boon has ascended to reflect your title as the Avatar of Hades:
  • Mostly Dead¡ªSomewhat Alive (Avatar Rank) (Passive)
Critical State Empowerment: When health falls to 10% or less, receive a +20% boost to Aether Absorption and Stamina Regeneration, enabling a surge of resilience. Veil of the Underworld: You have become fully immune to all forms of Scan, Identify, Locate, and Mind Reading magic, including those cast by gods and immortal beings¡ªexcept Hades himself, whose gaze is absolute for those under his charge. Any attempt to probe your rank, true identity, lineage, or other hidden truths will reveal only one fact: you are the Chosen of Hades. The full extent of your nature remains veiled, shrouded in the shadow of the Underworld. Jace couldn¡¯t help but raise an eyebrow at the descriptions. He was certain Jack¡ªthe voice of the System¡ªhad a hand in crafting them. Clearly, someone was feeling a little saucy today. But, he didn''t really mind. Jace couldn¡¯t deny it¡ªthe boosts were¡­ impressive. Two of his Attributes were inching toward the 100 threshold, a milestone he knew was significant. Once crossed, new facets of those attributes would unlock¡ªor at least, that was what Professor Frost had claimed during class. The evolutions varied for everyone. Yet, what truly struck him wasn¡¯t just the raw power¡ªit was the upgrade to his Mostly Dead boon. Now, anyone who tried to scan him would find nothing but the cryptic truth: Chosen of Hades. It was an absolute lockout, impenetrable even to divine eyes. His reserves were critically low¡ªcompletely out of gold, in fact. Most of it had been sunk into recent purchases: essential upgrades for the Fields Below, items that Society Points couldn¡¯t cover, and a fresh stock of potion ingredients. He¡¯d meant to swing by Twig¡¯s shop again to check if the little merchant had sold more of his potions. His first visit had been a bust¡ªthe shop was closed, and Twig was nowhere to be found. Now, with the trip looming, he simply didn¡¯t have the time. He¡¯d have to make do with what he had. A small flashing icon in the corner of his interface caught his eye. Curious, Jace tapped it, and a message unfolded. Note from Hades You may be tempted to share your identity and past in this world. Resist the urge. You are stepping into a place shattered by the one who came before you¡ªthe Dark One. The kingdom of Roandia lies in ruin, with only this small city, a fragment of its former glory, still standing. Since then, it has become contested ground, claimed as neutral territory by all the kings of Mythica. Your lineage, particularly your mother¡¯s side, is a danger to you, not a benefit. There are those who would stop at nothing to kill you for that connection alone. Grow in power before you rise to prominence. And do so quietly, without becoming a nuisance or drawing unnecessary attention to yourself. Only then can you afford the luxury of being loud. ¡ªHades 197. The Next Morning The announcement crackled to life through the crystals embedded in the walls of the mess hall, their glow pulsing faintly with each word, just as the first light of dawn broke the horizon. ¡°The Inken Trials are over.¡± The voice sounded as grumpy as someone who¡¯d been awoken too early and had every reason to be displeased. Jace was already with his friends in the mess hall, picking at the remains of an early breakfast. A handful of other students had gathered, bleary-eyed, across the scattered wooden benches. Dex, Ell, and Alice sat with Jace, the three of them close enough to hear the amused mutterings of the few other students. Molly and Marcus had promised they¡¯d meet the group at the portal. Jace noted that they had been spending an odd amount of time together. The voice¡ªundoubtedly Brutus¡¯¡ªcrackled again, dripping with sarcasm. ¡°For whoever rigged my toilet with the ink bomb... I¡¯d like to commend you for your cleverness and attention to detail. You¡¯ve clearly been paying close attention in Artifice and Artifications class.¡± Jace shot Dex a sidelong glance, catching the flash of his friend¡¯s devilish grin and the sly wink that followed. Across the table, Ell merely shook her head, her lips quirking in a faint smile as she sipped her tea. The voice over the aether-enhanced crystals continued, now with a distinct edge. ¡°Additionally, when I find you¡ªand I will find you¡ªyou¡¯ll wish you weren¡¯t born.¡± The silence that followed hung heavy, stretching across the mess hall like an uneasy mist. Dex¡¯s gulp was unmistakable in the stillness. The announcement concluded with all the joy of a death sentence. ¡°All remaining students, gather at the Hermes District gates for transport. We leave for the Southeastern Stronghold in one hour. If you don¡¯t make it, you will be left behind.¡± The announcement rippled through the small morning crowd, murmurs growing into cheers, as if the very air held their collective relief. Of the thousand students who had entered, only 489 remained. Jace and the rest of the Scooby-Gang had dragged themselves out of bed before dawn, the kind of early that made their eyes sting and their tempers short. Rumor had it that Brutus would offer only a narrow window and try to weed out a few late waking students. He seemed eager to wash his hands of this year¡¯s Games, and a part of Jace couldn¡¯t help but think he might have the right idea. With everything spiraling out of control lately, the prospect of the Games felt more like a curse than an event. But it was a curse that Jace had no intention of avoiding. The students were directed to Hermes District, a place that hummed with life and magic. Jace and his friends moved as a group, the energy of the district around them almost infectious. Dex swaggered ahead, his grin widening every time Ell rolled her eyes in response to his antics. He looked back at her, his eyes sparkling with mischief.If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡°C¡¯mon, Ell, admit it. You¡¯re impressed,¡± Dex said, his voice laced with faux charm. Ell gave him another dramatic eye roll, her tone dry as she shot back, ¡°The only thing I¡¯m impressed by is your ability to beat expectations. Just when I think you¡¯ve done the dumbest thing you could, you go ahead and surprise me.¡± Despite her words, there was no venom in her tone¡ªjust the usual exasperation Dex seemed to inspire. ¡°You do realize that the Inken Trials were technically over at dawn today,¡± Alice said. ¡°We could have just waited.¡± ¡°And let Brutus think he bested us? I don¡¯t think so,¡± Dex countered. Ell huffed, but a small, reluctant smile finally broke through her feigned irritation. She gave Dex a light bump with her elbow as they walked, her voice softening. ¡°You¡¯re impossible, you know that?¡± ¡°It¡¯s part of my charm,¡± Dex replied, winking. He swaggered a little further ahead, and Ell just sighed, shaking her head, though her smile lingered. Marcus and Molly appeared, cheeks flushed, walking beside the group as they made their way. ¡°Where have you two been?¡± Ell asked, her tone playful, masking a hint of faux sternness. Marcus opened his mouth, ¡°Uh¡ª¡° but Ell cut him off with a small laugh. ¡°I see,¡± she said, with a knowing grin. ¡°Well, heads in the game, we are almost there.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not like that,¡± Marcus protested. Molly just smiled. A row of grand pillars flanked the path, standing sentinel at the entrance to Hermes District. These ancient, towering structures were carved from obsidian-hued stone, so dark it seemed to swallow the dawn light entirely. Their surfaces shimmered with intricate runes, glowing faintly like captured moonlight, each rune a testament to the centuries of protective enchantments etched into their being. The carvings seemed almost alive, the light flowing in delicate pulses, hinting at layers of magic woven deeply into the pillars¡¯ foundations, as if Hermes himself had whispered secrets into the stone. Molly eyed the runes. ¡°You know,¡± she said, her voice low with intrigue, ¡°I heard these were designed during the War of the Fates. Supposedly, they can seal off the entire district if something dark tries to slip through one of its many portal arches.¡± Beyond the entrance, Hermes District unfurled before them like a living tapestry, a kaleidoscope of magic and motion. The scent of parchment mingled with citrus and the metallic tang of active enchantments, energy pulsing in the very air around them. Streets of polished lapis stone shifted subtly beneath their feet, each step awakening a soft, glowing trail that spread across the ground like ripples of light. Ripples transformed into sprawling waves, illuminating wherever they stepped, as if the District itself remembered and guided each traveler with a gentle, shimmering embrace. Above, enchanted courier birds¡ªsmall constructs of brass and feathers¡ªdarted between floating lanterns glowing in hues of amber and emerald. Their wings were a blur of grace and precision, delivering scrolls and parcels to their rightful owners. Dex dodged as a bird swooped particularly close, almost grazing his head. ¡°These fancy feather dusters have it out for me, I swear.¡± 198. One Small Step The Archway Path stood as the centerpiece, a towering marvel of both engineering and magic. Each arch was distinct, each a gate to a different realm, a different domain of wonder. The group gathered with other students¡ªmany of whom had camped out even earlier, now waiting with eager, restless energy. But this arch was unlike the rest. Chains and iron bars wove around its frame, large and imposing, almost daring anyone to try and pass through. Its stone surface was etched with intricate glyphs. Massive locks, an amalgamation of both mechanical ingenuity and arcane spellwork, crisscrossed the arch, barring entry to whatever lay beyond. A faint hum filled the air, a subtle but persistent static that raised the hairs on Jace¡¯s arms the closer he got. Seeing the gathered students¡ªonce a thousand strong, now reduced to this small group¡ªmade the reality sink in. The number on the leaderboard was one thing, but seeing how few remained drove the point home with undeniable clarity. ¡°Less than half made it,¡± Alice murmured, her sharp gaze sweeping over the crowd. ¡°Brutus wasn¡¯t kidding about thinning the herd.¡± Dex let out a mirthless chuckle. ¡°Thinning the herd? More like nearly wiping it out. I only wish I¡¯d come up with that little trick sooner¡ªmight¡¯ve spared a few more necks.¡± Ell shot him a glare, her eyes narrowing. ¡°Your ¡®little trick¡¯ was reckless,¡± she retorted. ¡°You¡¯d better hope that Brutus has enough of a sense of humor¡ªor enough patience¡ªnot to vaporize you on the spot when he realizes it was you. And he will figure it out.¡± Jace tuned out their familiar bickering, his thoughts lingering on Thistle, their gnomish tank and friend¡ªthe one piece missing from the Scooby-Gang. He had visited Thistle in the infirmary the day before, and the sight had left an unsettling impression: Thistle was pale, gaunt, his movements sluggish, his eyes distant. The spiritual counselor had explained that Thistle¡¯s soul fragments were still knitting back together after the possession¡ªa delicate process that required time, nourishment, and space. Using his Soul Affinity, Jace had confirmed it himself. Thistle¡¯s essence was fractured, like shards of glass slowly trying to reunite, each fragment struggling to fit back into place. It was painful to witness, like watching a shattered vase attempt to make itself whole, cracks still visible but promising eventual restoration. ¡°He just needs time,¡± the counselor had assured him. ¡°And a chance to feel strong again.¡± Jace had resolved to help Thistle when the time was right. But for now, his friend needed to heal at his own pace. Shaking off the thought, Jace redirected his focus to the task at hand, the weight of impossible responsibility settled heavy on his shoulders, a familiar burden. Brutus strode confidently to the base of the arch, his heavy boots thudding with authority. He halted before a series of levers embedded in the pedestal, his hand moving with a deliberate familiarity. The locks on the arch began to disengage, one after another, each release accompanied by a deep, resonant clang¡ªlike ancient machinery shaking off centuries of dormancy. With each grunt of exertion, he pulled a lever, the sound of each released lock echoing like a hammer striking an anvil, deep and resonant. The gears groaned in response, mechanisms grinding against years of enchantment as the arch slowly awakened.You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. ¡°This isn¡¯t just to keep us out,¡± Alice murmured to Jace, her voice barely audible. ¡°It¡¯s to keep something in.¡± ¡°Let¡¯s hope it stays that way,¡± he replied. The final lock disengaged with a thunderous boom, echoing through the District. The glyphs flared brilliantly before fading into a faint, steady glow. It was unlocked, but not activated. Brutus turned to face the students, his expression carved from stone. ¡°What lies beyond this gate is not for the faint of heart,¡± he said, his voice steady, carrying an edge of warning. ¡°Remember what you¡¯ve learned. And damn your pride! If you can¡¯t handle a challenge, step aside rather than gamble away your lives in some misguided bid for glory.¡± Uneasy glances flickered between the students, his words settling over them like a heavy fog. Yet beneath the weight of his warning, anticipation simmered, a spark slowly igniting, flickering to life in their eyes. The chatter of students faded into silence as Professor Dranice Thorne stepped forward, again from apparently nowhere. His crimson cloak billowed dramatically, catching the light like a flickering flame. ¡°Listen closely,¡± he began, his voice cutting through the quiet like a blade. ¡°Beyond this gate lies the last stronghold of Roandia. It is a refuge, yes, but also a crucible. Representatives from across the world¡ªgods, mortals, schools¡ªall gather there. Your actions will not go unnoticed. Everything you do reflects upon you, your future, and this University.¡± His gaze swept over the gathered students, sharp and assessing. ¡°Remember: a single death means disqualification. You will return here immediately, your journey over. The Pre-Trials await you, and this year, there are four. Each one will test your limits. Survive them, and you may move on to the Tower. Fail, and you will not.¡± Murmurs rippled through the crowd, but a stern glare from Dranice silenced them instantly. ¡°This is not a game, despite the name. Do not disgrace yourselves¡ªor this institution. You represent Mount Olympus University. Act accordingly.¡± With a swift flick of his wrist, the arch flared to life. Runes ignited along its frame, glowing in brilliant gold and silver, swirling like molten fire. The air around them seemed to shimmer, a faint hum building until it vibrated through their very bones. The portal burst open in a blinding flash, before settling into a shimmering twilight that enveloped the arch. Its surface rippled like liquid starlight, shifting and swirling in an endless, mesmerizing dance, as if the very fabric of the cosmos had been woven into the gateway. The light gathered and refracted, forming an event horizon that seemed to bend reality itself¡ªan ethereal threshold that blurred the line between this world and whatever lay beyond. Brutus was the first to move, stepping forward without a word and vanishing into the arch. ¡°Go on, step through,¡± Dranice commanded, his voice brooking no argument. He stepped aside, gesturing sharply for them to follow, his gaze daring anyone to hesitate. Jace caught Alice¡¯s gaze, and she gave him a small nod¡ªan unspoken promise of solidarity. Together with the others, they moved forward, stepping into the portal. The world blurred around Jace, swallowed in light and sound, his senses overwhelmed by the rush of magic. As the brightness faded, Jace blinked, his breath catching in his throat as the sprawling city¡ªthe last stronghold of Roandia¡ªunfurled before him, vibrant and alive, stretching endlessly under the vast blue sky. 199. Windswept Magics The portal opened onto a windswept hilltop. Territory Discovered. Added to Map. The Southeastern Stronghold, Last Bastion of the Fallen City of Roandia Beside Jace, two dozen other gateways flickered with vibrant energy, their surfaces swirling like molten glass waiting to cool into stories untold. He stepped forward, breath curling visibly in the frigid air, and took in the city sprawling below. Snow lay across the landscape like a jeweled mantle, each crystal reflecting the pallid sunlight and lending the world a cool, ethereal glow. Square edifices of glass, stone, and metal rose in the distance, proud beneath winter¡¯s tight-fisted hold. Their edges blurred slightly in the shimmering frost, making the city appear both solid and strangely elusive, as though it hovered between dream and waking. Far below, at its heart, the city defied the season¡¯s icy decree. Smoke drifted upward from countless hearths and chimneys, carrying with it the rich scents of roasting meats and burning wood. Vibrant life throbbed there, a warm pulse against the stark quiet of surrounding snowfields. The city center spread out like a half-remembered reverie, spires coated with glittering rime that caught the faint sunlight and turned it into scattered hints of starfire. At the core stood the Sapphire Tower, its azure glass splintering daylight into a thousand tiny rainbows that pirouetted over slick cobblestones. Above and between the buildings, floating platforms hummed softly, arcs of arcane energy ferrying cloaked figures from spire to spire. Some travelers gestured and chatted animatedly; others observed the scene below with calm detachment. Scents drifted upward in subtle symphony: charred sweetness from caramelized nuts, the sharp kiss of exotic spices, a faint acrid tang from concoctions no doubt brewed in half-hidden workshops. Yet Jace found his gaze inexorably drawn upward. The sky itself had cracked¡ªsplit down the middle. On one side, blue and silver hues danced serenely, reflecting some quiet, hopeful magic radiating from the Stronghold City. On the other side, darkness intruded¡ªa stark, shattered void that seemed cleaved by a colossal wall rising to unimaginable heights. It dwarfed even the Sapphire Tower. Darkness loomed on the horizon, a cruel presence that felt far too close. Jace hadn¡¯t realized how near they were to the Dark One¡¯s domain. The Tower, luckily rising on the light side of the divide, radiated a raw, unyielding power. As Jace¡¯s gaze lingered on its jagged form, whispers stirred in his mind. As he stared, strange murmurs brushed the edges of his thoughts, wordless whispers that refused to share their meaning, leaving only a prickle of unease along his spine. It was as if the Tower was speaking to him in a language he couldn¡¯t begin to comprehend.Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. A low hum broke through his reverie as the surrounding portals flared to life. The hush that followed was thick, the muffled crunch of footsteps on frost sounding like distant drums. Figures emerged, shoulders cloaked in foreign furs and woven scarves that sighed as they moved. Some walked as if the cold were a trivial rumor, their eyes fixed on goals hidden over the horizon. Others stumbled, disoriented, casting backward glances at portals whose luminous edges had dimmed to silence. Jace¡¯s pulse throbbed in his ears. He studied the arrivals, attempting to guess kingdoms and histories by their stances, by the subtle tilt of a head or the hush in their laughter. The Winter Games drew them all, but he sensed an undertow beneath the spectacle¡ªsomething darker, coiling unseen and waiting. The wind lashed the hilltop, sharp as broken glass. Snow crunched like brittle sugar beneath their boots. Without hesitation, Jace accessed his inventory, donning the warmest gear he owned. The dark robes of Hades settled around him like a shroud of shadows, their ominous sigils hinting at ancient power. Nearby, Alice tugged her lilac robes tight, the runes stitched into them glowing softly with each movement. Dex¡¯s emerald cloak bore frost-warding runes along its trim, and Marcus moved confidently under the white and gold regalia emblazoned with Zeus¡¯s lightning crest. Ell¡¯s attire, a swirl of purple and rainbow hues, shimmered with a vibrant life of its own. And Molly, well, she stood apart in her simple black dress, its thin fabric fluttering indifferently against the biting wind. She never once flinched at the chill, eyes wide and unblinking as they drifted over the beautiful and mesmerizing scene. Her face, caught between awe and quiet disbelief, mirrored the uneasy questions stirring behind every watching gaze. The portals poured forth a steady stream of arrivals, a thousand brilliant threads weaving a tapestry across the brittle air. From the northern gate, huge Norse figures trudged forward, breath steaming in clouds beneath helms adorned with twisting knots. Their cloaks, rough-hewn from bear and wolf pelts, caught the wind, flaring like captured storms. Weapons etched with pulsing runes hummed at their sides, and at their feet stalked wolves the size of small horses, heavy paws sinking into the snow with deliberate menace. Laughter rolled from their chests, a deep thunder rattling distant treetops. From the east stepped Egyptians swathed in robes the color of desert twilight. Gold filigree glinted at their collars and wrists, the metal seeming to trap sunlight and cast it back in fluid waves. A lithe priestess strode ahead, flanked by dusky felines whose eyes burned with an ancient knowing. Behind her loomed a crocodile-headed sentinel, its skin dark and glossy as river mud, each step shaking the ground as though testing the world¡¯s foundations. Nearby, elves drifted through a portal framed by silver branches. They seemed to materialize rather than walk, cloaks embroidered with shifting leaves that whispered against one another in a hush of wind. Their eyes held emerald and argent reflections, catching distant fires and turning them into quiet galaxies. Their laughter was a low, rolling music that smoothed sharp edges from the chill air, filling it with a sense of calm that needed no words. From another gateway poured Celtic warriors, faces flushed by wind, hair as red and coppery as autumn¡¯s dying leaves. They carried axes that winked in the pale light, their edges telling stories of battles fought in endless forests. Voices rang out in bright bursts, challenging the cold and the silence. Their boots crunched through the snow with sure purpose, as if the world itself shifted to welcome their stride. 200. Fractured Sky In a swirl of incense and shifting shadows, Asian spirits emerged, fox-tailed and masked figures gliding over snow without leaving footprints. A young serpentine dragon¡ªyoung by dragon years at least¡ªcoiled lazily in the air, pearl-like eyes serene and patient. Its whiskers drifted like fine brushstrokes, while beneath it, a cluster of robed monks passed in silence, their lanterns painting delicate patterns on the ground. Strange and monstrous creatures followed behind, tusks gleaming, rattling clubs that emitted sharp, crackling sparks, their laughter neither cruel nor kind, but something more inscrutable. From a distant portal came the whisper of flutes and rattles, followed by beings whose markings recalled jaguar spots and hummingbird feathers. The air tasted of damp earth and fresh rain as shamans stepped forth, skins patterned in spirals of teal and ochre, feathered serpents twisting around their ankles. A hooded figure raised a hand, conjuring a swirl of incense that tasted of cacao and chili, and the world seemed to tilt, acknowledging some older truth. Yet not all arrivals were framed in warmth or stately grace. Another opening revealed a huge serpent coiled protectively around a silent, hooded traveler. The serpent¡¯s emerald scales caught distant fires and sent them dancing across the snow, while the robed figure¡¯s measured steps needed no companion other than the reptile¡¯s quiet, watchful presence. No voice governed them. They fanned out into the cold clearing, old myths and new stories pressing against one another, forging an uneasy harmony of flesh, fur, scale, and steel. Jace watched this congregation, his gaze darting from group to group. Voices in a dozen accents overlapped, laughter and murmurs forming a tapestry of sound. Cultures collided here, drawn by the promise of the Winter Games, and stood together beneath the fractured sky¡ªone half of it a serene winter poem, the other a black, broken cry. It was then that another figure claimed his attention. A portal shimmered and she stepped through. Her stride was fluid, unhurried, as though time itself bowed to her passing. Her skin glowed like polished bronze under distant suns. Her features were chiseled and striking, balanced as if shaped by wise and ancient hands. She wore obsidian textiles threaded with gold filigree, patterns that teased meaning at the edge of understanding. They spoke of civilizations old as time, of powers that never truly slumber. She stood among the Egyptians, yet something set her apart, as if she were the calm axis around which all others turned. While a gaggle of female companions chattered and laughed, their voices weaving melodic strands in the frosted air, she remained silent. That silence was not emptiness; it had weight and presence, a gravity that drew Jace¡¯s attention as surely as the Tower in the distance. Then she looked up and their eyes met. For Jace, it was as if the world¡¯s noise faded, leaving only the quiet spark that leapt between them. Her eyes, dark and bottomless, held something ancient¡ªknowledge older than the stones, deeper than the endless snows. A resonance coursed through him, a quiet chord plucked at the center of his being. It went beyond beauty; it suggested vast landscapes hidden beneath calm waters. The moment stretched, and in it he sensed an inquiry or a challenge. For an instant, he thought he saw something flicker¡ªthough he couldn¡¯t tell if it was approval or wry amusement¡ªbefore she turned away, releasing him as though he had never held her attention at all.Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. The crowd thickened, shifting and swirling toward distant gates. Order emerged from chaos as lines formed almost instinctively, those from other kingdoms already headed down toward the city. Some flew, others walked, and even more vanished, using some form of teleportation magic. A voice cut through the Olympian gathering. Dranice, sharp and clear: ¡°Students of Mount Olympus, you¡¯ll want to go and secure berthing. The district is marked on your maps. Brutus and I have other matters.¡± His gaze swept over them, as unflinching as the frost underfoot. ¡°Orientation begins at six. Good luck.¡± As the final words faded, Jace felt a soft chime in his mind. A glowing prompt hovered at the edge of his vision: New Quest: Find lodging. Meet for Orientation at 6 PM. See map for location. No instructions beyond that, no gentle mentorship to ease them into a foreign city. Just a challenge placed like bait. Jace scowled, scanning the faces around him. He saw confusion and resolve reflected back. Before anyone could voice a complaint, Dranice and Brutus dissolved into shimmering motes, leaving the hilltop and its pilgrims behind. The students shifted restlessly, boots crunching in the snow, breath smoking in the chill. Soon they began descending toward the sprawling city, clusters forming and drifting apart, some studying enchanted maps, others simply following the crowd. The lanterns below promised warmth and shelter, but made no guarantees. Jace lingered a moment, feeling the icy wind nip at his cheeks. The city stretched out before them like a puzzle box waiting to be opened, streets glowing with lantern-light, rooftops dusted in pale gold and silver. Smoke curled into the sky, carrying hints of charcoal and promise. ¡°Come on,¡± Marcus said, breaking the silence. A confident grin split his face. ¡°Unless you fancy sleeping out here. Personally, I¡¯d like to get lodging before all the good rooms are taken.¡± Jace couldn¡¯t disagree. He fell into step, the crunch of snow beneath their boots a steady companion to his circling thoughts. Other students jostled by, some laughing, some fretting, the air filled with swirling voices. The lanterns along the path flickered welcomingly against the encroaching twilight. At the crest of the hill, Jace paused to glance back. The portals flickered faintly, their glow dimming as the last of new arrivals moved on. He wondered who that woman was, and if their paths would cross again. Then he turned to follow his friends down the slope, his boots biting into frost that had yet to yield to daylight. The chill settled through his coat as if testing his resolve, reminding him that no warmth was free and no journey certain. He pressed on, each footstep carrying him closer to whatever waited in that vast, glittering city beneath a sky broken in half. 201. Broken As they walked, Alice¡¯s voice carried as if the winter air itself hushed to listen. ¡°The Stronghold is divided into four concentric districts. The outermost is the Farming Circle¡ªthat¡¯s where we are.¡± Fields and lean homesteads huddled beneath a trembling veil of snow. ¡°Further inward lies the Common Circle, where narrow lanes and cramped houses press close together. Beyond that, the Merchant Circle unfurls its busy sprawl of shops and inns, hot bread and iron tools, bargains shared over counters. And at the very heart stands the Inner Circle, all marble facades and crafted archways, crowned by the Tower¡¯s shadow. Nobles dwell there when the games lure them in, and the city¡¯s governance breathes beneath that stone spine.¡± When Alice paused, her companions exchanged glances. Ell narrowed her eyes. ¡°Uh, Alice?¡± ¡°Yeah?¡± ¡°You sound like you¡¯re reading straight out of a book.¡± Alice blinked. ¡°Oh, I am. Well, kind of. I read it in a book, and now I¡¯m just¡­ repeating it.¡± They turned to her, brows raised in collective disbelief. ¡°What?¡± she asked, tilting her head. ¡°How do you remember all that? Word for word?¡± Marcus finally asked. A faint smile played on Alice¡¯s lips, her voice calm but tinged with pride. ¡°A recent upgrade to my abilities,¡± she explained. ¡°Anything I read just sort of sticks¡ªperfectly. The memory comes back to me whole, exact, even if I just skimmed it once.¡± Ell raised an eyebrow, Molly let out a slow, impressed breath, and Jace gave a quiet nod. They continued along the path and snow crunched beneath their boots. As they ventured deeper, the snug outlines of distant farmhouses blurred and bent like ink spilled into water. As they entered the Common Circle, Jace noticed that the houses were indeed pressed tightly together, huddled like shivering figures seeking warmth. He narrowed his eyes, sensing something quiver at the rim of his vision¡ªan oily shimmer along the rooftops, a twitch in the crisp winter light. Then it cracked. A faint thrum pulsed against the inside of his skull. Transparent script flared before him, icy letters etched in the air.Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. System Notification Word of Power Activated¡ªTruth. Illusion Broken: [Glamor] In that instant, the painted picture of prosperity peeled back. Snow-laden eaves sagged, shingles stripped of their neat illusions. Pale fences, once sharp and white, showed rot and splintered boards. Doors hung crooked, their hinges rusted. The scent of damp wood and stale wind replaced the imagined coziness, pressing against his senses. ¡°Um, guys?¡± Jace spoke low, almost a hush. He reached out, not quite touching the warped planks of a nearby wall. His companions turned, confusion knitting their brows until they too flinched, as though waking from a sweet dream into a sour dawn. Molly¡¯s mouth set in a grim line. Dex stiffened, shoulders tight. Marcus let a bitter grunt slip past his teeth, mumbling about how it¡¯s always the same: a polished front masking a rotten core. A movement at the corner of Jace¡¯s eye drew him closer¡ªa window, its glass smeared with grime. Behind it hovered a small face, eyes large and hollow, cheeks grayed with soot and hunger. The child trembled, breath steaming the pane. Molly inhaled sharply. Jace swallowed, words tangling in his throat. Alice stepped forward, shoulders squared against the chill. She knocked lightly, the sound too hollow, as if knocking on an old coffin. Inside, silence churned. Marcus shifted his weight, impatient and distant. Alice knocked again. A second¡¯s pause, then the door cracked open just enough to reveal stale darkness beyond. The boy¡¯s face hovered in the gloom, eyes hollow with hunger, his skin pale and smudged with grime. The stale air drifting from the doorway smelled of damp rot and old straw, wrapping around them like a faint plea for help. Alice knelt, her movements slow and deliberate, as if she feared even the smallest gesture might frighten him back into the shadows. ¡°Hello, little one,¡± she said softly, her voice careful not to disturb the fragile silence. The boy didn¡¯t answer, only shrank back slightly, his thin frame trembling. His eyes darted toward the street beyond them, wary of unseen watchers. When Alice asked if his parents were home, he shook his head, the movement quick and mechanical, as if it had been repeated many times. There were no tears¡ªjust a quiet resignation that spoke of lessons learned too young, that tears didn¡¯t bring warmth, comfort, or safety. ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± Alice said gently. ¡°Are you cold?¡± The boy finally spoke, his voice barely more than a whisper, brittle and thin. ¡°I¡¯m not supposed to talk to outsiders,¡± he said, his hands curling into fists against the tattered fabric of his shirt. ¡°I¡¯m sorry¡ªI shouldn¡¯t have¡ª¡° ¡°It¡¯s alright,¡± Alice interrupted softly, her tone soothing. ¡°Who told you that?¡± The boy hesitated, then shook his head again. The weight of his silence hung heavier than any words could have. Behind her, Ell stepped forward, slipping off her coat. For a moment, its inner lining caught the light, faint runes etched along the seams glowing softly, promising the warmth it carried. She held it out toward the boy, who eyed it like a forbidden relic. His hands twitched at his sides, but he made no move to take it. ¡°It¡¯s for you,¡± Ell said firmly, nudging it closer. ¡°It¡¯ll keep you warm.¡± ¡°I can¡¯t,¡± he murmured, shrinking back. ¡°I¡¯ll get in trouble.¡± ¡°You won¡¯t,¡± she said, her tone brooking no argument. ¡°Take it. Please. If you don¡¯t, I¡¯ll feel insulted.¡± 202. Disillusioned He studier her then and seemed to weigh each impossible option in his mind. Finally, he reached out, his fingers hesitant as they brushed the fabric. He clutched the oversized coat tightly to his chest, his face tilting down as if to hide from their kindness. Jace¡¯s gaze lingered on the shadows beyond the boy, where another pair of eyes glimmered faintly in the dim light. Smaller, rounder¡ªlikely a little sister, watching silently from the deeper gloom of the house. Before he could retreat further, Jace stepped forward, reaching into his ¡°absolutely-not-a-fanny-pack¡± dimensional inventory. He pulled out a small crate of food, carefully packaged and infused with his Flavor Saver potion. The scents of warm bread, spiced meat, and sweet pastries filled the air as he set it on the ground between them. ¡°This is for you too,¡± Jace said. ¡°It¡¯s enough to last several days.¡± The boy froze, his eyes wide with disbelief. ¡°I can¡¯t take that,¡± he stammered, stepping back. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ it¡¯s too much.¡± ¡°Not just for you,¡± Jace said firmly. ¡°Share with your family and friends.¡± Something in Jace¡¯s tone broke through the boy¡¯s resistance. He hesitated, then reached for the first package, tearing it open with trembling hands. He took a bite and froze, his eyes lighting up with wonder. ¡°This¡­ this tastes like royalty food.¡± He looked up at them, his gaze filled with cautious awe. ¡°Are you princes? Princesses?¡± Alice knelt again, a faint smile on her lips. ¡°No, just visiting the town for the Games.¡± The boy looked down, his small hands clutching the food tightly. ¡°Are there others like you? Cold? Hungry?¡± Ell asked. ¡°Yes,¡± he whispered, his voice barely audible. ¡°But they won¡¯t talk to you. They¡­ we¡¯re not supposed to¡­ not supposed to talk to outsiders.¡± His voice dropped lower, his gaze darting nervously to the street. ¡°If they find out¡­ if she finds out¡­¡° He trailed off, his face tight with fear.The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. ¡°She?¡± Alice pressed gently. ¡°Who is she?¡± The boy shook his head, refusing to answer. He stepped back toward the door, his movements quick and skittish. ¡°Thank you,¡± he said, his voice barely above a whisper. ¡°Please, don¡¯t tell anyone I spoke to you. Outsiders are dangerous. That¡¯s what she says. That¡¯s what they all say.¡± ¡°Who said that?¡± Ell asked, her voice calm but firm. The boy glanced at her, his mouth opening as if to speak, but then he seemed to think better of it. ¡°I¡­ I have to go. Please.¡± Before they could say another word, he slipped back inside, clutching the coat and food to his chest like fragile treasures. The door creaked shut, the soft click of the latch the only sound in the stillness. It felt impossibly thin, that door, separating their world from his. For a long moment, none of them spoke. Snow swirled around them, the flurries filling the silence with a soft, insistent white noise. From somewhere in the distance came a faint sound¡ªa shout or perhaps a cry¡ªdrifting through the maze of alleyways, too far away to place. Molly¡¯s jaw tightened, her usually calm demeanor showing cracks of unease. Marcus stared at the crooked rooftops. Jace¡¯s hand hovered near the door, fingers brushing the cold wood as though contemplating a second knock. The child¡¯s face lingered in his mind, etched with the kind of fear and resignation he thought he¡¯d left behind when he escaped his own fractured world. The scene stirred something deep within him¡ªa memory of himself as a boy, in a place where famine and poverty were everyday realities. He had hoped Terra Mythica would be different. He had believed it would be different. But he knew better now. Every world had its players, its systems, its flaws. Still, this felt¡­ wrong. He couldn¡¯t settle it in his mind. Back on Earth, they had explanations. The War. The radiation dust killing the crops. A thousand other reasons to point to. But here? Magic flowed freely, abundant and powerful. Food should have been plentiful. Warmth easy to conjure. The boy¡¯s parents¡ªwhere were they? Why weren¡¯t they able to care for him and his sister? He and his friends exchanged a silent look, the weight of what they had seen settling heavily between them. No words were needed; in that shared glance, Jace knew they had all made the same decision¡ªsomething had to be done. Even Dex, usually the first to deflect with an easy quip, had a strange, pained look in his eyes¡ªhis usual confidence cracked. Whatever was happening here, it wouldn¡¯t be ignored. Jace¡¯s stomach churned as the realization solidified. Something was rotten beneath the surface of this town, hidden behind its glamor and illusions. Whatever it was, it wasn¡¯t natural. It wasn¡¯t right. He decided then and there, staring at the closed door, that he wouldn¡¯t let it go. Something was happening here, and he would find out what. 203. Marchants Circle They turned inward, eyes drawn to the heart of the Stronghold where towers speared the sky. Something old and hungry pulsed beneath these streets, beyond illusions and the polite veneers of civility. The quiet that followed the discovery of the boy¡¯s plight pressed on them, laden with unspoken questions. Far ahead, beyond the city¡¯s concentric circles, darker trials waited, coiled like serpents ready to strike at the unwary. As they walked on, the wind whispered an unsettling truth: something had to be done. Their boots scuffed against the uneven cobblestones, sending thin flakes of old snow spiraling into crooked gutters. Without the illusion¡¯s soothing hush, the Common Circle revealed its raw edges: sagging doorframes, shutters hanging on a single hinge, and footprints etched deep into grime. Behind dirt-streaked windows, eyes gleamed with silent curiosity. A trembling hand hovered at a pane¡¯s edge before vanishing into shadow. Jace¡¯s ears caught the faint rasp of coughing, the hushed whispers scurrying away like frightened mice. His chest tightened. ¡°How can anyone live like this?¡± he murmured, his voice low, as if afraid the city¡¯s wounds might hear him. "Where are their parents? Their king?" "The city has no king," Alice replied softly, her tone threaded with restraint. "Not since the fall. It¡¯s ruled by a Regent¡ªa man named Koren Klaventaire. A commoner, chosen precisely for his lack of allegiance to any kingdom. He¡¯s held power since the Stronghold was reclaimed from the Dark One and the Tower was taken back." The group exchanged uneasy glances. Jace shook his head. ¡°He¡¯s not doing a very good job. Does he even know people are starving under his rule?¡± No one answered. The weight of the silence followed them deeper. A few strides farther, the world shifted again. The air began to warm¡ªnot with the touch of sunlight but with a crafted comfort that brushed away the lingering chill. Jace¡¯s anger mingled with confusion as he noticed the source: crystals perched atop wrought-iron posts, casting ruby gleams across polished cobblestones. The snow beneath their feet melted into shallow rivulets, trickling along the street. The scent of spice and fresh bread teased their senses, and distant laughter drifted like wind chimes through the Merchant Circle. Dex broke ahead, his nose leading him to a stall where pastries were stacked precariously high and skewered meats sizzled over an open flame. The cart owner, a rotund man with a wild, wiry beard and a missing front tooth, was busy yelling at a pigeon perched on the edge of his canopy. ¡°You freeloading sack of feathers!¡± he bellowed, waving a ladle like it was a broadsword. ¡°Go steal from someone who can afford it! I¡¯m running a business here!¡± The pigeon cocked its head, unimpressed, and flapped lazily to a nearby rooftop. The man grumbled under his breath, muttering something about birds needing to learn respect, then turned with a dramatic flourish, his apron stained with grease and flour. The cart owner spotted them and immediately sprang into action, his booming voice carrying the energy of a seasoned showman. ¡°Ah, customers! Step right up! Today¡¯s special: satisfaction on a stick and bliss wrapped in pastry. Finest cuisine in these parts, I promise!¡± He gestured grandly, as if unveiling a royal feast, his apron flapping with the movement. ¡°You seem to have plenty of food here. And all the carts I see around are overflowing. I got the impression there might be some shortage,¡± Ell said, probing.Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. The man froze for a split second, his smile tightening. Straightening his apron, he adjusted his tone, adopting an air of practiced politeness. ¡°Well, yes,¡± he said, glancing sideways. ¡°Food has been a bit on the scarce side, and the farms, well, they ain''t what they used to be, that''s true enough.¡± His tone grew overly bright, though a flicker of worry lingered in his eyes. ¡°But of course, you needn¡¯t worry, m¡¯lord. We reserve only the best for distinguished visitors such as yourselves.¡± Dex¡¯s amused grin widened. ¡°Oh, no nobility here,¡± he said, waving a dismissive hand. ¡°Just Travelers from Mount Olympus.¡± The man¡¯s shoulders slumped in visible relief, his formal demeanor evaporating like steam off a hot skewer. ¡°Ah, Travelers! Thank the gods,¡± he said, his voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper. ¡°Can¡¯t be too careful these days. Mistaking a noble for a Traveler? Might as well dig me own grave and lie down in it.¡± He chuckled, the sound deep and warm, like a fire crackling on a cold night. ¡°What is happening with the farms?¡± Ell pressed. ¡°Well, not really something that would interest you, I¡¯m sure,¡± the man replied, his eyes darting around nervously. ¡°Oh, it definitely does,¡± Dex leaned in with a smile. The man froze for a split second, his smile tightening. He adjusted his tone, adopting an air of practiced politeness. ¡°It really isn''t something to worry about,¡± he said, looking around to see if anyone was listening to their conversation. Jace could tell the man wanted to speak, but something held him back. The tension in his posture, the way his gaze flickered as if searching for an unseen threat¡ªit was clear. Jace searched his eyes, and in that moment, a faint shimmer sparked in his vision. A gossamer thread of light drifted from the man¡¯s lips, faint stitches of ethereal lines weaving together with each word he spoke, the threads stretching outward and dissolving into the void like smoke dissipating in a breeze. ¡°I really can''t say,¡± the man murmured, his voice tight with unspoken words. And Jace knew he meant it. Dex glanced at Jace, catching the faint shake of his head. Reading the cue, Dex turned back to the man with a grin that masked his unease. ¡°Well, I¡¯m famished. What¡¯s the damage for this so-called satisfaction and bliss?¡± The man noticeably relaxed, a pressure removed from his shoulders. ¡°Five coppers for a skewer, seven for a pastry. Ten for both,¡± the man rattled off, his tone suddenly all business. ¡°And before you start whining, food¡¯s scarce. Fields ain¡¯t what they used to be, but we make do.¡± ¡°Ten it is,¡± Dex said with a sigh, fishing out the coins. He handed them over with a mock salute. The cart owner¡¯s grin returned, revealing a missing tooth that somehow added to his roguish charm. ¡°Oh, it will be,¡± he said confidently. ¡°Best food this side of the Merchant Circle. You¡¯ll see.¡± Dex bit into a skewer under the cart owner¡¯s watchful eye, his face betraying nothing¡ªat first. The moment the charred flavor hit his tongue, his expression wavered, lips twitching into a grimace that he hastily reshaped into a strained smile. ¡°Mmm, absolutely delicious,¡± Dex said, nodding vigorously. The cart owner beamed, clearly pleased, as he turned his attention elsewhere. Dex leaned toward the others and muttered under his breath, ¡°Tastes like burnt disappointment,¡± forcing the bite down with a grim determination. The cart owner smiled, utterly unrepentant. ¡°Told you it¡¯s the finest. Crops might be cursed, but not the cook.¡± As the words left his mouth, he stiffened, his expression shifting from casual indifference to stark realization. His face paled, as if he¡¯d said something he shouldn¡¯t have. Then, in an unnerving instant, his features went blank, like a puppet with its strings momentarily cut. Moments later, a practiced smile slid back into place, bright and cheerful, as though nothing had happened. The group exchanged glances, but didn''t press it further. Something told them it wouldn''t be a very good idea for the man''s health. 204. Making Friends Despite the lingering taste of ash, Dex¡¯s good humor returned. He glanced over at Jace. ¡°Care to try your luck?¡± ¡°Let¡¯s see if I can help,¡± Jace said, stepping forward with an air of quiet determination. The cart owner¡¯s sharp eyes followed Dex¡¯s movements, narrowing as Jace pulled a small vial from his inventory before giving it a little shake. A single drop shimmered as it touched the pastry¡¯s surface, soaking in and vanishing almost instantly. The change was immediate. Wisps of rich steam unfurled, carrying a scent that was warm and tantalizing. Dex took another bite, his eyes closing in delight. The flavors unfolded: layers of toasted grain and crushed nuts, with a mellow sweetness like roasted chestnuts at the edges. ¡°Better?¡± Jace asked, a small grin tugging at his lips. Dex nodded, his expression softening as he savored the transformed pastry. ¡°Much better.¡± A scrape of boot leather against stone drew their attention. A young man approached, dressed in fine black attire with a violet sash draped over one shoulder. His entourage followed close behind, all clad in similarly glossy finery, their movements sharp and calculated. His cheeks glowed with a pampered flush, and his high, thin voice carried a note of entitlement. ¡°What,¡± he drawled, each syllable sliding into a whine, ¡°did you put on that food?¡± Dex took the bottle and held it up, letting the sun catch its faint gleam. ¡°Flavor Saver,¡± he replied. He didn¡¯t elaborate, didn¡¯t sneer, just stated the truth as plainly as he¡¯d name the color of the sky. The young man¡¯s eyes narrowed, his posture straightening as if he expected the world to bow before him. Overhead, a ruby crystal hummed softly, warming the air, while behind them the streets echoed with merchants¡¯ calls. Unacknowledged by the arrogant stranger, the cart owner shrank a bit, shoulders folding inward. The hush that followed felt weighted, as though the scent of spice and bread might curdle into something bitter. The goon stepped forward, his boots hitting the cobblestones with the weight of a man who liked being looked at. Thick-necked, with shoulders too broad for his ill-fitted armor, he carried a sneer that barely found room under his helm. His voice matched the clanking steel he wore¡ªgrating and harsh. ¡°You will refer to Lord Caspen of House Incantein as Lord when you speak to him.¡± Jace tilted his head slightly, sizing the man up. He didn¡¯t look particularly quick or smart, but the way his hands hovered near the hilt of his blade suggested he was eager to be dangerous. Caspen stepped forward, lifting a gloved hand as if the world revolved around him. His face wrinkled in disdain, his nose twitching like a cat near spoiled milk. ¡°Travelers,¡± he spat the word, letting it hang in the air like an insult. ¡°No manners. No taste.¡± Behind the cart, the vendor stirred nervously, his hands working over a dishcloth that had seen better days. ¡°It¡¯s fine, my lord,¡± he stammered. ¡°No offense taken, truly.¡± Caspen rounded on him, the syrupy warmth in his voice masking sharp edges. ¡°Silence, peasant. I¡¯ll have your tongue if you speak again.¡± He leaned forward, smiling with teeth too white for the venom they hid. ¡°I am offended on your behalf, whether you have the sense to feel it or not.¡± The vendor shrank back, his shoulders curling as though trying to make himself smaller, less visible. He cast a nervous glance at Jace, a plea hidden in the quick flick of his eyes.This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. Caspen¡¯s voice turned soft, almost kind, as he addressed no one in particular, like he was performing for an audience only he could see. ¡°These poor, defenseless peasants need someone noble to stand up for them. Someone who knows their worth. Travelers think they can disrespect anyone, even our lowest, most miserable¡ªnay, pitiful¡ªclasses. But even our peasants,¡± he paused, a self-satisfied smirk curling his lips, ¡°deserve better than any Traveler.¡± The silence that followed felt sharp, cutting through the bustling noise of the Merchant Circle. Jace¡¯s jaw tightened, and his hand drifted unconsciously toward his side, where shadows seemed to flicker faintly at his fingertips. Jace¡¯s shoulders stiffened, the weight of Hades¡¯ warning pressing hard against his pride. Don''t make a scene. Not my fight. Jace''s hand twitched, shadows licking faintly at his fingertips, but he forced himself to stillness. He set his hand on Dex''s shoulder. ¡°Let¡¯s go, guys,¡± he muttered, keeping his voice steady. Turning on his heel, he walked away, his friends reluctantly falling into step behind him. Caspen sputtered, his face contorting in disbelief. ¡°How dare you walk away from me? I am speaking to you!¡± The noble¡¯s voice cracked, shrill with outrage. Jace didn¡¯t break stride, though his muscles tensed with the effort of restraint. Then it hit him¡ªa ripple in the air, thick and wrong, like stepping into a room where someone had just shouted in anger. His senses screamed, warning nearly too late. The dark energy lashed out, sharp and cold, a streak of violet-black slicing through the air. Jace twisted instinctively, the attack missing him by inches and slamming into a nearby cart. Wood splintered and scattered, the merchant diving for cover with a yelp. Jace spun, adrenaline surging through him. Before he could process the moment, shadows coiled at his fingertips, twisting into chains that erupted from the ground as he instinctively cast Chains of Oblivion for the first time. They struck Caspen across the face, leaving a red, pulsing mark that glowed faintly with the underworld¡¯s energy. The noble staggered, his hand darting to his cheek in a futile attempt to smother the searing pain. The chains, relentless and unyielding, coiled tighter, dragging his arms down to his sides and locking him in place. Jace froze, his breath caught in his throat as he released the chains and they faded to black smoke. He hadn¡¯t meant to do it. The magic had come unbidden, like an instinct, a second heartbeat that acted before his mind caught up. Caspen recovered quickly, his face twisting into a mask of fury. ¡°Guards!¡± he bellowed, though the command was barely necessary. The men around him were already in motion, surging forward with deadly intent. The metallic clang of blades rang out as his entourage drew their weapons in unison, the sound slicing through the tension like a warning bell. ¡°You¡¯re going to regret ever being born,¡± he snarled, his lips curling into a vicious sneer. Predatory eyes burned with malice, promising nothing short of destruction. Marcus shifted, a crackle of electricity arcing between his fingers. Ell unsheathed her sword, its edge shimmering faintly with runic power. Molly didn¡¯t move; her stance alone radiated calm confidence as the air around her rose gently. Dex raised his fists, his Shard flaring with light. Alice, eyes steady and cold, drew a small vial from her belt, ready to unleash whatever potent force it contained. Then the air changed again, sharper this time but colder, calmer. A woman stepped into the space between them and the guards, her presence as commanding as the silence that followed. Her emerald eyes glinted with an almost hypnotic light. With a wave of her hand, the guards¡¯ swords vanished, dissolving into motes of golden light that drifted harmlessly to the ground. Jace blinked, his memory catching up. He recognized her¡ªher features were striking and noble, with high cheekbones and an angular grace that spoke of an ancient lineage. Her skin, a rich bronze tone, seemed to glow with the warmth of the sun, complementing the intricate patterns of her flowing attire. Braided hair adorned with delicate golden beads framed her face, giving her a timeless quality. And something else¡ªa subtle taper to her ears, barely noticeable but enough to suggest she might be something just a touch beyond human. It was the same woman he had noticed before, standing with quiet authority among the Egyptians at the gate. ¡°That,¡± she said, her voice soft, and yet both firm and commanding, ¡°is quite enough.¡± 205. Peacocks and Predators ¡°Caspen, already causing trouble?¡± The faint smile on her lips didn¡¯t quite reach her eyes. ¡°Princess Lyra!¡± Caspen stammered, his bravado faltering. He bowed, though the motion was stiff. ¡°My apologies, but this whelp needs to be taught a lesson. Striking a noble is an offense punishable by death!¡± Unbidden, sensing the danger, Jace felt the chains begin to pour from his hands again. This time, however, he stopped them before they grew longer than a foot. What¡¯s happening to me? Get it together, man. Jace ordered himself. Lyra¡¯s smile faded, replaced by a serene seriousness that chilled the space around her. ¡°A dire claim indeed,¡± she murmured, her words slow and deliberate. Her voice was as smooth as silk stretched taut. ¡°If it were true, that would be an issue.¡± ¡°It is true!¡° Caspen insisted, his face a patchwork of indignation and lingering pain. ¡°And I demand recompense! I demand blood!¡± Lyra raised a single brow, her posture imperious. ¡°From me?¡± Her tone carried the weight of a thousand unspoken rebukes. ¡°I am not of your kingdom, Caspen, nor am I your subject. And yet you demand anything of me? I expected better manners from someone of your upbringing.¡± Caspen opened his mouth, then closed it again, his words swallowed by her sharp gaze. The guards behind him shifted uncomfortably, their hands twitching toward hilts that no longer existed. Lyra stood tall, her presence as immovable as a mountain, her emerald eyes catching the faint glimmers of the ruby crystals above. Jace exhaled slowly, his tension easing but not disappearing entirely. The chains at his fingertips faded back into shadows, though the cold echo of their power lingered against his skin. ¡°Not of you, Princess. Of him¡­ I demand¡­ I request¡­¡± Caspen faltered, searching for the right excuse to untangle himself from the silken web Lyra had spun. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean¡­¡± he began weakly, but Lyra raised a slender hand, cutting him off mid-sputter. ¡°If he truly struck a noble outside of a duel,¡± she said, her words sharp as cut crystal, ¡°that would be quite the scandal, wouldn¡¯t it?¡± Her emerald eyes glittered like a blade catching the light. ¡°But I did see your magic, Caspen. I assumed, naturally, that a duel was underway. Otherwise¡­¡° She let the silence stretch just long enough for the nearby onlookers to lean in, her voice dropping to a tone of mock gravity. ¡°¡­you¡¯d be admitting to common brawling. And that would be so¡­ beneath you.¡± She turned to her friends, her expression shifting as if struck by a sudden realization. ¡°Oh, that would be such a scandal, wouldn¡¯t it? Especially with your family so eager to secure a marriage for you. Can you imagine what the ladies of the Court would say? I shudder to think!¡± With a theatrical gasp, she clutched her hand to her chest, feigning faintness. A chorus of giggles broke out from a nearby cluster of women dressed in vibrant gold and crimson¡ªtheir insignias unmistakably Amon Ra. They whispered behind jeweled hands, their amusement at Caspen¡¯s predicament thinly veiled. Caspen¡¯s cheeks flushed crimson, his pride crumbling under the weight of Lyra¡¯s words and the echo of laughter. He straightened, forcing his composure into something resembling dignity. ¡°Yes,¡± he said, the word strained through gritted teeth. ¡°A duel. Exactly.¡± Lyra¡¯s lips curved into a perfect smile, bright and disarming, but there was a glint of something sharper beneath it. ¡°Just as I thought. And I assume it¡¯s over then, as Jace clearly made first contact.¡± She tilted her head ever so slightly, her regal poise unyielding. Caspen gave a slight, almost imperceptible nod. Subtle as it was, it was all Lyra needed. ¡°Indeed, as it appears. I knew I was mistaken to think otherwise.¡± ¡°Quite right, Your Royal Highness,¡± he replied, the words rolling off his tongue with thinly veiled disdain. ¡°I appreciate the¡­ clarity.¡± He dusted himself off briskly. ¡°Well,¡± he added, straightening his vest, ¡°I suppose we should set to be preparing for the Ceremony tonight.¡± He shot Jace a scowl, then turned to Lyra with a shallow bow before attempting to make his exit. But before he could take more than a few steps, Lyra¡¯s voice rang out, bright and deliberate, slicing through the air as if he hadn¡¯t spoken at all. ¡°And, of course, a duel must have a wager.¡± Caspen froze mid-step, his shoulders stiffening. Jace caught the flicker of a bitter scowl twisting his features, as though he¡¯d bitten into something rotten but couldn¡¯t spit it out. ¡°All duels must, after all¡ªCoin, Mark, or Recompense. Which was it, again?¡± Caspen¡¯s jaw tightened, the muscles in his face taut as a bowstring. ¡°Coin,¡± he ground out, his tone sharp, betraying just how much the word cost him.This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. Lyra gave an approving nod and turned to Jace, her gaze softening only slightly. ¡°Young Master¡­?¡± ¡°Jace,¡± he replied simply, still uncertain whether to feel victorious or like he¡¯d stepped into something far bigger than himself. ¡°Well then, Young Master Jace,¡± Lyra declared, her voice carrying just enough to let everyone within earshot hear. ¡°As the winner of this duel, you are due the standard wager in Coin.¡± She turned back to Caspen, her expression expectant. The noble seethed, his shoulders rigid as he stormed forward. His hand darted into his sash, pulling out a weighty sack that jingled with the heavy clink of metal. He shoved it into Jace¡¯s hand with enough force to make the coins clatter against each other. Leaning in close enough for only Jace to hear, he hissed, ¡°You¡¯ll regret this, Traveler. My family has places for people like you.¡± His breath was as cold as his threat, and before Jace could muster a reply, Caspen turned sharply on his heel and stomped away, his entourage scrambling to follow. The tension evaporated as Lyra let out a laugh¡ªbright, carefree, and entirely out of place against the backdrop of hostility. Her companions closed in around her, and she glanced back at Jace with a playful grin. ¡°He¡¯s such a little prick,¡± she said lightly, her tone conspiratorial. ¡°I hope you don¡¯t mind me having a bit of fun teasing him.¡± One of her companions, a tall woman with silver-threaded braids, leaned in, her tone low but audible. ¡°Your Highness, you really shouldn¡¯t,¡± she murmured, though her words carried more indulgence than rebuke. ¡°Oh hush, Serephine,¡± Lyra replied with a wave of her hand, her laughter bubbling again. ¡°Just a little fun.¡± Her gaze flicked to the sack of coins now resting awkwardly in Jace¡¯s hand. For the first time, he noticed how heavy it was. The weight pressed into his palm like an anchor, though it wasn¡¯t the coin inside that left him uneasy. Something deeper churned¡ªan understanding that this moment, however small it seemed, was the beginning of something far more dangerous. He added the pouch to his inventory, and it vanished from sight. Lyra¡¯s emerald gaze swept over the vendor, softening as she reached into her sash and withdrew a stack of gleaming gold coins. She pressed them into his trembling hands. ¡°For your trouble,¡± she said, her voice calm but firm. ¡°And remember, you have the right to speak for yourself.¡± The vendor blinked, his fingers curling instinctively around the stack of coins as if they might vanish if he didn¡¯t hold them tightly enough. Lyra turned to leave, her entourage falling in step around her, but Jace¡¯s voice cut through the moment before she disappeared. ¡°Uh, miss¡­ Princess?¡± She paused mid-stride, casting a glance over her shoulder with a curious smile. ¡°Yes?¡± Jace hesitated, then blurted, ¡°What are Coin, Mark, and Recompense? I mean, I figured Coin out, but the others?¡± Her expression softened into something almost maternal, though there was still a glint of curiosity behind her eyes. ¡°I sometimes forget how little Travelers know,¡± she said thoughtfully, as if to herself. ¡°Coin is a payment agreed upon before a duel, usually to cover perceived losses. Mark is far more valuable¡ªa favor owed by the loser, enforceable by oath, and immensely powerful if taken from someone of status.¡± Her voice dipped slightly, just enough to let the final word linger. ¡°Recompense, however, is taken in blood. All three are common wagers in our duels. He likely gave you the minimum allowable Coin wager for a proper duel.¡± Jace nodded, filing the information away. ¡°Thank you,¡± he said simply. Lyra¡¯s smile returned, a brief, radiant thing, and with a slight nod, she melted back into the crowd, her companions flanking her like loyal shadows. For a moment, her laughter carried on the warm air, fading like a song¡¯s last notes. The group stared at Jace in silence, a beat of stillness stretching too long. The vendor, still clutching the gold, broke it first. ¡°Are you lot important people or something?¡± Ell snorted. ¡°Not particularly,¡± she said with a shrug. ¡°Speak for yourself!¡± Marcus declared, puffing out his chest as if trying to fill the space Lyra had left. The others chuckled, the tension easing slightly, though the vendor still looked uncertain. Jace cleared his throat, glancing back at the vendor. ¡°Do you know anything about Caspen or Lyra?¡± The vendor rubbed the back of his neck, his demeanor slipping into something more familiar, less wary. ¡°Caspen? Son of some big-shot noble family, a chosen avatar of Pluto. Mean streak, that one. Doesn¡¯t surprise me he¡¯s picking fights with Travelers.¡± ¡°And Lyra?¡± Jace pressed. The vendor nodded slowly, his tone softening with a trace of respect. ¡°Princess Lyra Ravenscroft. Daughter of King Trent¡ªone of the Egyptian monarchs. But she¡¯s Aztec by blood, the second daughter of their king. She¡¯s been living with the Egyptians for years now, though.¡± He hesitated, then added, ¡°She¡¯s sharp, that one. Not someone you¡¯d want to cross.¡± Jace tipped him well, the clinking of coins punctuating the moment. They turned to leave, but he caught a faint flush on Alice¡¯s cheeks. She glanced away before he could meet her eyes directly. Something stirred in him¡ªa question perhaps¡ªbut he pushed it aside. Not now. Jace pulled up his inventory, his eyes widening at the sight of his newest acquisition: five Etherium. He did the math in his head, and the result hit him like a punch. It was the equivalent of five thousand gold¡ªten times his scholarship¡¯s annual stipend of five hundred! That was the minimum standard Coin? If that was the lowest allowed, he couldn¡¯t help but wonder what the average wager for a duel with Nobles might be. Marcus broke the silence, his voice low but dripping with exaggerated indignation. ¡°Some people, honestly. Strutting around like peacocks, flinging their egos everywhere. It¡¯s embarrassing, really. No manners.¡± The group turned to him, their collective gaze a silent verdict of disbelief. Eyebrows lifted, lips twitching with barely concealed amusement. Marcus blinked, glancing around at their faces. ¡°What?¡± he asked, his confusion wholly sincere. Dex stepped forward, laying a hand on his shoulder with the glistening eyes of someone holding back laughter. ¡°Come on, Marcus. Let¡¯s get to the rooms.¡± 206. A Little Luxury
The inn district unfolded like an oasis of luxury amidst the city¡¯s rising warmth. Cobblestone streets gave way to polished paths, bordered by palm-like trees that swayed gently despite the lack of wind. Enchanted lanterns glowed with soft, golden light, casting a welcoming shimmer across the fa?ade of a sprawling resort. A sign hung above the entrance, glowing faintly: Travelers Welcome. Jace eyed the sign with a faint furrow in his brow. The message was clear, but it left him wondering what policies other places in the city might hold toward outsiders. The thought lingered as they approached the grand double doors, which opened with a quiet, magical hum. Inside, the air was cool and fragrant, perfumed with something that reminded Jace of citrus and freshly turned soil. The lobby was a masterpiece of enchanted architecture¡ªcrystal fixtures floated gently in the air, casting prismatic light across smooth marble floors. Soft carpets muffled their footsteps as they took in the scene: lounging chairs that seemed to adjust their shapes as guests sat, fountains that shimmered with golden water, and an indoor pond surrounded by glowing lilies. Dex let out a low whistle, his eyes gleaming. ¡°Now this is more like it,¡± he said, grinning as he took in the opulent surroundings. ¡°Alright, Ell and I already spoke about this and we are covering the rooms. The guys can bunk together¡ªme, Jace, and Marcus¡ªand the girls get their own.¡± The girls exchanged glances before nodding, though Alice hesitated for a moment. Her gaze flicked toward Jace, lingered briefly, then darted away, her expression unreadable. ¡°Sure,¡± she murmured, her voice quieter than usual. ¡°I don¡¯t share,¡± Marcus declared, folding his arms with finality. Dex rolled his eyes but didn¡¯t bother to argue, waving him off with a lazy gesture. ¡°Suit yourself, but I¡¯m not footing the bill.¡± Marcus snorted. ¡°As if I¡¯d take money from you. Please.¡± With that, he stalked off toward the receptionist, leaving the others in his wake. Dex sighed and turned to Jace with a shrug. ¡°Guess it¡¯s just you and me, then. That good with you, Jace?¡± Jace held up a hand. ¡°Yeah, except for one thing. I¡¯ll cover the rooms.¡± Before anyone could object, he flashed a grin and added, ¡°Consider it my treat¡ªthanks to some unexpected winnings.¡± Dex raised a brow but shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m won¡¯t complain. Ell?¡± She nodded approval. By the time they reached the receptionist, Marcus was already striding off, a bellhop trailing behind him with a key in hand¡ªwhich was entirely unnecessary, considering he had no luggage. Even if he did, it would all be neatly stored in his inventory. The receptionist looked up as Jace approached, her serene smile welcoming but professional. The faintly glowing quill beside her continued jotting notes on its own, pausing briefly as if aware of the shift in attention. ¡°Good morning,¡± she said smoothly. ¡°Welcome to the Lost Oasis of Roandia. How can I assist you?¡± ¡°Um, yeah, we need rooms?¡± The words came out as a question. He glanced back at his group before meeting her gaze again. ¡°Two should do¡ªone with three beds for the girls, and another with two for us.¡± She nodded, her smile unwavering. ¡°Of course. Standard accommodations, or were you looking for something a bit more¡­ refined?¡± Her eyes flickered briefly over the group, assessing their travel-worn appearances but saying nothing. ¡°Standard is fine,¡± Jace said quickly, then hesitated, glancing toward Dex and Ell. ¡°Unless the others have something to say about it.¡± Dex leaned casually against the counter, flashing the receptionist his most winsome smile. To which, Jace noted, she appeared entirely impervious. ¡°Well, what are the options?¡± ¡°That, sir, depends on your desired budget,¡± she replied smoothly, her tone as polished as her appearance. ¡°Might I ask how much you¡¯ve allocated for your accommodations during this stay?¡± Dex nudged Jace lightly with his elbow, leaning in to whisper, ¡°If it¡¯s too much, I¡¯ll chip in.¡± Jace rolled his eyes, muttering something under his breath as he reached into his pocket. Fishing out a coin, he placed it on the counter with a soft clink. The heavy gleam of Etherium caught the light, and for a moment, the receptionist¡¯s serene expression wavered, her eyes widening just slightly before she quickly masked her reaction. ¡°I see¡± she said softly, her voice just a touch lower. Her hand hovered over the coin before picking it up delicately, turning it slightly in the light. She cleared her throat, the flicker of emotion gone as quickly as it had come. ¡°Let me provide you with change¡ªit¡¯s far too large a denomination for standard rooms.¡± ¡°Uh, sure,¡± Jace said, watching her slide the coin into a crystal slot embedded in the counter. The device emitted a soft chime as smaller platinum coins cascaded into a compartment. With practiced efficiency, the receptionist gathered the coins, stacking them neatly before slipping them into ten polished wax-sealed tubes. Jace couldn¡¯t help but wonder if the device also checked for forgeries¡ªan idea seemingly confirmed by the faint flicker of satisfaction in her eyes as the coins emerged. Sliding the tubes across the counter, she offered a polite, professional nod. ¡°With this,¡± she began, sliding one of the ten platinum tubes toward her, ¡°you could enjoy two of our standard but more than adequate suites for the duration of the Games.¡± Her tone was warm, smooth, and persuasive. Then, with a deliberate pause, she pulled two more tubes toward her slowly, her voice dropping to a near reverent whisper. ¡°But with these¡­¡± Her fingers brushed the polished gold, and her smile softened into something almost conspiratorial. ¡°You can have two adjoining top-tier suites. Private baths and access to a luxury spa, the finest enchanted furnishings, full wardrobe restoration for your entire stay, enhanced sleeping quarters imbued with restfulness charms, and even personalized magical services.¡±Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. She paused just long enough to let the promise of indulgence linger. ¡°It¡¯s an experience unlike any other. And, as the saying goes, a little luxury goes a long way.¡± Jace hesitated, glancing back at his group, then down at the gleaming pile of coins. Alice placed a hand gently on his arm, her expression cautious. ¡°Jace, we don¡¯t need all that. The standard rooms are fine.¡± Her words gave him pause, but then his mind drifted back to what he knew about her¡ªhow she¡¯d grown up not so differently from him, scraping by where luxury was a distant fantasy. It was wasteful, sure. But as impractical as it seemed, he wanted her to have this¡ªa rare, bright spot in what had been a tough journey for all of them. ¡°Alright,¡± Jace said, sliding the three stacks of coins the rest of the way across the counter¡ªvanishing the others into his inventory. ¡°Let¡¯s do it.¡± The receptionist¡¯s smile widened ever so slightly, her hands already reaching for an enchanted key that pulsed with a deep, royal blue glow. The intricate carvings on its surface shimmered faintly as she handed it to him. ¡°An excellent choice. You¡¯ll find the suites unmatched in both comfort and privacy.¡± Jace sighed, tucking the key into his pocket as the receptionist inclined her head. ¡°Enjoy your stay, Master Jace.¡± As he turned to rejoin the group, the weight of the enchanted key felt oddly heavy in his pocket. As they ascended the grand staircase, the lavish details of the resort revealed themselves further: enchanted windows that displayed shifting landscapes, even though the real view outside was the city streets; corridors that adjusted their lighting based on the time of day; and magical runes embedded into the floors that guided them effortlessly to their rooms. Dex and Jace stepped into their shared suite, and even the sight of it made Jace pause. The room was enormous, with a high-domed ceiling painted with moving constellations. A crystal-clear pond rippled gently at the far end, its waters shimmering with faint magical hues. The furniture¡ªplush chairs, a wide bed, and a chaise lounge¡ªseemed to beckon them into comfort. Even the air smelled faintly of salt and flowers. Jace chuckled softly, shaking his head. The day¡¯s events still pressed against him, but the warmth of the room dulled the edges. As he glanced toward the softly glowing runes lining the walls, he couldn¡¯t help but wonder what the next day would bring. Their room was the epitome of luxury made magical. The pool pond at the far end rippled faintly, its surface reflecting hues of soft blue and gold as if catching sunlight that wasn¡¯t there. Warmth radiated from the walls, adjusting the temperature with a near-sentient precision that made the air feel like a perfect spring afternoon. Crystal globes hung from the ceiling, humming softly with gentle light, their glow shifting in rhythm with the room¡¯s ambiance. The windows displayed a serene oasis, palm trees swaying under a painted sunset that shifted as if alive. Jace approached one and touched the pane, half-expecting to feel the breeze of the illusion, though only the faint warmth of the glass met his fingertips. The linens, soft as a whisper, carried a faint scent of lavender, their magic ensuring they were never too cool or warm. A faint chime resonated from the pond, drawing their attention. Dex jumped to his feet, his grin lighting up like a kid who¡¯d just found treasure. ¡°Oh, a Telepond! I¡¯ve heard of these!¡± He approached the shimmering water, spotting a small basin of smooth pebbles resting nearby. Grabbing one, he flicked it effortlessly into the pond. The surface rippled outward, shimmering with a soft, iridescent glow. Then, the water began to rise, twisting and reforming until a lithe figure took shape¡ªa translucent, blue-tinted version of Ell. ¡°Sup, Ell!¡± Dex called, clearly enjoying the novelty. Ell¡¯s watery likeness placed her hands on her hips, her features exuding the same exasperated charm she carried in real life. ¡°Jace, Dex¡­ this room¡­¡± Before she could finish, another figure shimmered into existence beside her¡ªa playful, water-formed version of Molly. Her laughter bubbled through the connection as she leaned in. ¡°Is delightful.¡± Then Water-Molly vanished, stepping back as Water-Alice appeared, her form materializing with the same crystalline glow. Her soft smile carried warmth even through the enchanted medium. ¡°Thank you, Jace,¡± she said, her voice quiet but heartfelt. The sincerity in her tone hit him squarely, her gratitude warming him in a way the room¡¯s opulence never could. But the moment of serenity didn¡¯t last. Out of nowhere, a pillow sailed through the air, visible even in shimmering water form, and smacked Alice squarely in the face. Her watery reflection rippled as she froze, blinking in surprise. Molly appeared behind them, doubled over laughing. ¡°Oh, that was perfect!¡± she crowed, clearly pleased with her aim. Alice steadied herself, reaching for her own pillow with mock solemnity. ¡°Oh, it¡¯s on now,¡± she declared, her voice dripping with playful menace. ¡°Children, both of you,¡± Ell chided. The pond reflected the chaos as the two launched into a full-blown pillow fight, their laughter bubbling through the enchanted connection. Ell turned sharply, her hands on her hips, her shimmering form exuding exasperation. ¡°Really? A pillow fight? Could you two be any more stereotypical? What are you, teenagers?¡± Alice smirked, brushing her hair out of her watery eyes. ¡°Technically¡­ still am. Got a few months left, so I¡¯m going to enjoy it while I can.¡± Before Ell could respond, a pillow hit her squarely in the side of the head, sending her reflection rippling. She froze, glaring at Molly and Alice, who were both trying¡ªand failing¡ªnot to burst into laughter. ¡°Oh, very mature,¡± she deadpanned, though her tone was light. Another pillow flew at her, but this one she dodged. ¡°Alright, that¡¯s it!¡± Ell shouted, grabbing a pillow of her own. She launched it at Molly, who shrieked and retaliated. Chaos erupted as all three joined the fray, their laughter echoing through the pond¡¯s enchanted surface. The water began to shimmer as the connection started to break, their figures dissolving into ripples with every swing and shout. Just as Ell landed a satisfying hit on Molly, the final flicker of light vanished, leaving the pond still and silent once more. Dex let out a low whistle. ¡°Okay, I definitely need one of these ponds in my dorm.¡± Jace shook his head, a grin tugging at his lips. ¡°Yeah,¡± he murmured, the warmth of their laughter still lingering in his chest. ¡°Me too.¡± Jace chuckled softly, pulling off his cloak and draping it over a chair. The tension from the day¡¯s events still clung to him, but the comfort of the room dulled its edges. He sank into one of the plush chairs. Dex propped himself up on his elbows, his grin turning sly. ¡°So,¡± he started, dragging the word out. ¡°What¡¯s up with you and Alice? Is that ever going to happen?¡± Jace froze, the question hitting harder than he¡¯d expected. His face flushed as he feigned confusion. ¡°What do you mean?¡± Dex sat up, pointing at him with exaggerated offense. ¡°Oh, don¡¯t pull that. You know what I mean. You two have been dancing around each other since, well, forever. It¡¯s like watching two swords try to figure out how to hug.¡± Jace rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding Dex¡¯s gaze. ¡°I have no idea what you¡¯re talking about.¡± Dex snorted, leaning back against the bedframe. ¡°Right. Sure. For someone who¡¯s all about truth, you¡¯re not exactly honest with yourself, are you?¡± Jace sighed, letting the conversation drop. Dex didn¡¯t press the issue, but his smirk lingered like an unspoken dare. The room¡¯s warmth seemed heavier now, the enchanted lights casting longer shadows as Jace leaned back and stared at the illusion of the distant oasis, his thoughts drifting farther than the horizon. 207. The Welcome Ceremony . Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. System Notification Quest Updated¡ªThe Tower:
  • Survive the Trials: 0/4
  • Climb the Tower: 0/30