《The Toymaker》 Level 1: Discovery On board Vel ¡®Tar scouting vessel. Designation: Binding Shadow A small probe, roughly one meter across, made it¡¯s way silently back to it¡¯s point of origin. The Binding Shadow was one of many thousand predator class scouting ships, and it¡¯s probe had performed the sector sweep assigned to it. Most of her crew slept or enjoyed leisure time, one of the many perks of being a scout in the strongest military known to exist. Only the Captain and other necessary personnel were paying attention when the probe pinged the Binding Shadow, requesting a docking sequence. ¡°Sir, Probe 36-B is back. Run it through normal diagnostics and data recovery?¡± Asked a young man with close cropped black hair and green eyes. Normally not extraordinary features by any stretch of the imagination, but when coupled with his nearly three meter height, ashy gray skin, and abnormally muscular frame they painted a picture that was altogether not human. He was however, a very standard example of one of the Vel ¡®Tar. As demonstrated by the Captain of said scouting vessel. Captain Ornis Bal, another half meter taller than any crew member on his ship. A point of pride for his species. Those in charge, regardless of their ship¡¯s role, had to be the strongest. His hair was very nearly silver in color and was pulled back into a tight ponytail. It accentuated his strong jawline and blueish gray eyes; as well as hiding the implant at the base of his skull. ¡°Proceed with docking procedures and send the scouting information to my terminal. Might as well go over it myself, pretty slow out here.¡± The giant man gave his orders. Despite his stature and obvious military power, the Captain was well known to be a reasonable and rational man. He wasn¡¯t prone to anger and tended to lead with a firm, but fair hand. The probe drifted to the port side of the craft before a 10 meter docking port opened revealing a hanger bay behind some sort of shielding device. It slid in and docked in its designated charging station and form an uplink to the ship¡¯s main computer. Captain Bal stared out into the vast space around his ship. While he certainly admired the...vastness, of it all, he often wondered who he¡¯d pissed off to get this detail. There were always wars to fight, and he had been a part of many of them. Typically scout duty was for older veterans who requested the duty to get off the front lines from time to time. Sighing internally, he just reaffirmed to himself that he may as well make the best of his circumstances. As the data from the probe began to roll onto this holo projected monitor, he began to scour the data for anything useful. Anything that might get him back into the action. He read through material analysis of an asteroid belt, a rather large gaseous planet, and another ringed world. Finally his eyes made it down the list to a planet with a very interesting piece of information.Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. Name: Earth Planet type: Terrestrial Radius: 6,371 Kilometers Population: 7.6 Billion Surface Composition: 71% water, 29% land ... ... ... He grinned to himself, not escaping the notice of the other crew members on the bridge. ¡°Well ladies and gentlemen, looks like we will all be getting a pay raise. Probe 36-B went and found us a populated world.¡± There were a few high fives exchanged and amongst the hushed whispers there an audible excitement. ¡°All right, let¡¯s find out what exactly we are dealing with. Computer, detailed analysis of Earth¡¯s population. Focus on sentient races of any importance.¡± A charming and yet clearly robotic female voice responded over the ship¡¯s comm system. ¡°Yes Captain. It would seem that there is one dominant sentient race on the planet, although they are divided into several racial groups. As a whole, they use ballistic weaponry, are space-faring but not interplanetary, and tend to live to an average age seventy years.¡± There was a small pause before it continued. ¡°Apologies Captain, a year is what they call one rotation around their sun.¡± ¡°No need to apologize, a very thorough analysis for a probe actually. Ballistics and non-interplanetary space travel, a rather young race. Any information on mana signatures.¡± ¡°It would seem the probe ran the scan twice, but did not receive any perceivable feedback from beings with mana. It then proceeded to acquire a tissue sample and determined them to be mana deficient, not mana-locked.¡± The A.I. responded. He raised his hand and scratched at his chin while compiling all of the information they¡¯d gathered into something he could present to his higher ups. ¡°Well...that¡¯s better than nothing. Still, Tier 1 species aren¡¯t particularly well suited to anything. Perhaps¡­¡± He trailed off lost in thought. There was a notable silence before he finally spoke up. ¡°When was the last time high council ran a planet through a Tempering?¡± ¡°It has been 319 cycles since the last Tempering. It was used on the Vormak, Sir.¡± The Captain¡¯s eyebrows rose at hearing that piece of information. The Vormak were a physically adept species. Stupider than rocks, but they were invaluable to mining operations and other manual labor jobs across their Empire. If he could remember correctly, their value also meant that they were treated rather well for slaves, thus there wasn¡¯t much resistance anymore. ¡°I¡¯ll be in my quarters writing up a report to send to the high council. I¡¯ll be requesting the necessary tools for a Tempering. Take us to Earth and set up at a safe scouting range. I doubt they have anything that could detect us, but safely see if there is anything else you can find out about them in the meantime.¡± He said to the other bridge officers. Soon the ship was buzzing with activity. It had been awhile since a scouting ship had found new life, but it was always a big deal regardless of what kind of species they encountered. In this case they had found a rather useless bunch, but they could least be harvested as a form of entertainment. As for the survivors, well...they would hardly be human anymore. Level 2: Bread Miles sat and reflected on his life over the past two weeks. Well, he assumed it was about two weeks anyways given the amount of times his circadian rhythm had prodded him into sleeping. He rested in the corner of their cell, in as close to isolation as possible. Being crammed into a room the size of his hometown that was filled to the brim with people didn¡¯t exactly allow for much privacy. After the war...no you couldn¡¯t even call it that. There hadn¡¯t been a resistance. Everything and everyone that even attempted to fight back was dealt with before they¡¯d even known what they were fighting. The rest had be herded like cattle and put on some kind of transport ships as best he could tell. Some of them had decided that they weren¡¯t too happy with their situation, but anyone who spoke up was never seen again. Who knows if they were killed or simply silenced, but he wasn¡¯t in any position to be a rebel regardless. Neither his will nor his prosthetic leg would¡¯ve allowed him any sort of success. The first couple of days were full of fear and trepidation. Mothers begging to see their children, those lost children crying without end, and the less stable amongst them losing what little sanity they had. Slowly the noise died down however, and soon the only interruption in their dull passage to wherever they were being taken was the daily feeding provided to them. Slots in the wall opened to reveal tables made of dark polished metal. In fact the whole room seemed to be made of the metal. On the tables were simple looking loaves of bread; bread that somehow seemed to complete satiate one¡¯s appetite. Miles had always been a large man. Broad shoulders and an athletic frame met with an intimidating looking beard. All he¡¯d had to do was walk without a limp and no one had even realized that he was a cripple. That had been enough to secure a daily food provision for himself. It also afforded him the luxury of being able to examine the situation in more detail and realize that they were intentionally creating a hierarchy amongst this group of survivors. Not pretty when all that¡¯s left were the strongest of the weak. So he¡¯d taken to getting a few extra scraps of bread for a few of the lost children who hadn¡¯t been taken in by any of the other groups yet, but other than that he¡¯d kept to himself. In his isolation he thought about what exactly was happening to them. The creatures that had taken them were very large. At least a few feet taller than the biggest human he¡¯d ever seen. Alongside the strange metal that their transport was made from and the bread they¡¯d been eating, it was all undeniably alien. The fact that it had sunk in so early for him was the only reason he hadn¡¯t panicked like so many of the others. The realization that he truly had no power acted both as a calming agent and a paralytic for him. Dragging himself back to the present, he got back to his thoughts on the strange metal that the ship was made from. He was no metallurgist, but his family had long been in the work of making custom children¡¯s toys, so we was something of a tinkerer. Never having planned on going into that line of work, he¡¯d fallen a bit behind the rest of his family, but when that damn accident happened...he shook his head. ¡°Best not to go down that rabbit hole, bud.¡± He murmured to himself. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. It seemed by all accounts to be steel at first glance. The color was all wrong though, and so was the hardness. He¡¯d been able to bring his toolbag with him, just another reminder at how little his capturs feared his ability to escape. He had some steel implements with him, and when he¡¯d taken them to the wall near his corner he hadn¡¯t even been able to scratch it. ¡°Who the hell are these people?!¡± He sighed in exasperation. He suddenly noticed the presence of one of the children he¡¯d been feeding standing in front of him. A small redhead, probably not any older than five or six years old. Cute freckles and green eyes, well at least now that she¡¯d stopped crying and the redness had receded. ¡°Ummm, Mr. Reed¡­¡± She stammered, ¡°Wha...what are you doing to the wall?¡± Miles smiled, his inclination towards children because of his profession shining through his introverted nature. ¡°Come and see Mary. Isn¡¯t this metal weird? This needle is hardened steel, which is one of the hardest metal alloy on earth, but I can¡¯t even scratch it!¡± He said as he held up the small needle he¡¯d been scratching at the wall with. The shy girl came over and reached out her hand. He handed the needle to her and she tried to scratch at the wall as hard as she could, her face scrunching up and turning red with exertion. Miles stifled a laugh at the small girl¡¯s antics, but ultimately failed and he flushed with embarrassment as the people nearest to him scowled at him for laughing. ¡°What¡¯s so funny?!¡± She said as she hit his shoulder. ¡°Nothing at all, it¡¯s just that you remind me a lot of my younger sister when she was your age.¡± Mary smiled and giggled a little. Mr. Reed was always really nice to her and the other kids, she didn¡¯t know why the adults didn¡¯t like him. ¡°Do you know where your sister is now?¡± The small girl asked. Miles collected himself as he stopped laughing and with a small smile that betrayed his emotional state he answered, ¡°Ahh, she passed away...a few years ago. I suppose it¡¯s a good thing though, I wouldn¡¯t have wanted her to go through this.¡± He looked up and saw that the young girl had a frown on her face and tears in her eyes. ¡°You damn idiot, look what you did now.¡± He thought to himself. He brought his hand up and ruffled her hair, leaning a little closer to look her in the face. ¡°You listen up, nothing bad is going to happen to you. I swear I won¡¯t let anyone hurt you, ok?¡± He attempted to lace as much sincerity into his voice as possible. His motivation being that it would be better for her to have some positivity in her life than the truth. She rubbed her eyes and coughed before showing him a small smile. ¡°You Promise?¡± ¡°I pro¡­¡± He was cut off by the loud groaning of the gears that held the the door imprisoning them opening. Mary reached out and grabbed his hand, clearly terrified. He slung his bag over his shoulder and leaned against the wall the stand himself. They began to walk towards the door together, with a few other children trailing behind them. He stumbled a bit, but steadied himself quickly as they walked to the door. He had no idea what would happen next, but it wouldn¡¯t do him any good to show his weakness...yet. Level 3: Speech As Miles and Mary were carried along in the procession, he made a concerted effort remain vigilant of their surroundings. Anything and everything around them might prove useful in regards to their survival. The first thing he noticed was that their group of a few thousand had swelled. It seems that branching paths had met with theirs and other groups were being funneled together towards their current destination. It gave Miles a small amount of hope that there were more survivors than he¡¯d originally thought. They hadn¡¯t been given any instructions, but it was quite obvious that they were meant to be going in the direction they were headed. By the time they¡¯d reached the end of the hallway they¡¯d been walking down it had been roughly half an hour. The numbers in their group had reached upwards of 100,000 people before it finally stopped growing. Miles was truly stunned at the sheer size of the vessel they were on. Aside from being able to hold this many prisoners, the distance they had covered wasn¡¯t anything to scoff at. Not to mention that there was nothing to indicate just how much of the ship they had actually seen. And yet all of that paled in comparison to the room they entered at the end of their journey. An enormous amphitheater met them. The room seemed to have a very gradual slope towards its center, but it was truly so large that it was nearly imperceptible. Squinting his eyes, Miles could just make out some sort of podium situated in the middle. As the rest of their people filed into the room, a circle of guards ushered them into a circle around the podium. The room itself was the same dark gray metal, but there were eight seams in the walls that emitted a soft orange light and met at the top of the domed roof. That same orange light began to appear around the edges of the circular podium as the last of the humans trailed into the room. Miles could hear the soft hum of machinery as the Podium lit up and began to raise above the floor. The circular platformed hovered until it was about twenty feet above everyone in the room, when a small iris in the middle of it opened and a ray of blue light appeared and stretched down in the bowels of the ship beneath the platform. The beam pulsed several times before emitting a blinding flash of blue light. As the room dimmed and once again was illuminated by just the orange seams in the walls, Miles rubbed his eyes. He¡¯d had the wherewithal to cover his and Mary¡¯s eyes, but he was still seeing spots. As his vision returned to him he saw what had appeared from the pulsing beam of light. They hadn¡¯t been there even a second earlier, so he assumed that it must have been some sort of teleportation device. ¡°Hello humans!¡± Bellowed the creature that stood in the center of the podium. With a cursory glance one might have even thought him to be human, if not for the color of his skin or the fact that he was obviously a giant. He wore ornate red robes with orange trim, and a headdress had two crests running from front to back. It gave him the appearance of some sort of holy figure. That being further confirmed by the four monstrous armored aliens surrounding him. ¡°I understand that this has been a trying time for you, but I, Iltanis, wish to congratulate you on your survival.¡± He gave a smile that oozed a practiced facade. ¡°It was never our intention to kill any of your species, but certain sacrifices must be made in the name of progress. Those who could not understand their inferiority had no place amongst us.¡± The man, Iltanis, gave the humans in the room a few seconds to process what he¡¯d said. Clearly the deaths of their friends and family who¡¯d fought back had been meant to send a message. One that communicated just how powerless they were. ¡°We, the Vel ¡®Tar, have bestowed upon you a mighty gift! You shall receive the blessing of mana, and you should survive the Tempering, you shall be given a role in the most powerful empire in known space!¡± Miles shook his head and tried to reconcile what he¡¯d just heard with what he already knew. The priest had said the blessing of mana...as in the resource most commonly associated with magic. He hadn¡¯t seen anyone use magic, but that didn¡¯t mean they couldn¡¯t. He craned his neck to get a better view as the speech continued. Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. ¡°I am sure you have many questions. I assure you that they will all be answered in due time. For now, I ask that you all step bravely forward into your new destiny!¡± As he said that last sentence he gave a flourish with his hands and the eight seams in the walls opened to reveal eight identical hallways. Everyone just stood there, not quite knowing what to do. The priest, however, seemed quite done with the whole affair. There was a scowl quickly forming on his face until the first person stepped into the hallway nearest to himself and vanished from sight. It seemed that that had been our intended destination all along, as soon people were filing into the orange light at a rather steady pace. Still holding the girl, Miles approached the wall of light and hesitated. He looked down at her and she just smiled back, relaying her trust in his decisions. He stepped forward into the light and suddenly felt as though he was being swallowed by rushing water. It was as if his lungs were filled with hot liquid, but he could still breathe. He pushed down his panic and tried to control his breathing. As he opened his eyes he found himself on a bed in a small room of polished white metal. There were a number of display screens around the room and two of the Vel ¡®Tar seemed to be preparing some sort of mixture. One of them noticed his presence and asked him to stick out his hand. Thinking it prudent to continue on the path of least resistance, he did as he was asked. The alien in question then stuck out a small needle and pricked his hand before proceeding to place his blood onto to one of the display screens, where it was absorbed into seemingly nothing. ¡°Honestly this place is insane.¡± Miles mumbled to himself. He was having a tremendous amount of difficulty wrapping his head around how advanced they were as a species. ¡°Miles T. Reed,¡± the female assistant spoke to him and shook him out of his musings. ¡°It¡¯s a shame about that leg of yours, it¡¯ll make the next step of your Tempering quite difficult, but you are otherwise healthy. We can now proceed to unlocking your mana potential, please lay down.¡± She gestured for him to lay back onto the table that he was seated on. Miles was about to ask how she knew his name and about his leg, but he caught a glimpse of the screen in front her. It seemed to be a complete diagram of his physical status and personal information. ¡°All that just from my blood¡­¡± He thought to himself. As he situated himself he couldn¡¯t help but unleash his curious nature about the situation. ¡°So what exactly is it that you plan to do to me? I suppose it would be hoping a bit too much that it could somehow regrow my leg?¡± He laughed a bit at the ridiculous question, but figured it couldn¡¯t hurt to ask. She smiled as she grabbed his arm and applied an anesthetic to it. ¡°No harm in telling you I suppose. We will be injecting you with nanites that are programmed to rewire you genetic code to access your mana nodes. Simultaneously, they will be installing the necessary code for A.I. integration. Each of you has been given clearance for a guardian, which is essentially a low tier A.I. that we will surgically implant while the nanites are working. As for your leg...no, not yet.¡± ¡°Not yet?¡± He asked, clearly picking up on her subtle hint. She just smiled at him and turned to say something to the other male in the room, at which point he made his way over to the table. ¡°Hello Mr. Reed, my name is Lanis. We will be putting you under for his part of the procedure, as the nanite reconstruction can be quite painful. When you wake up, you may feel a bit disoriented, but if you have any questions you can direct them to the Artificial Intelligence Interface.¡± He paused, before concluding that the look on Miles face was one of confusion. ¡°In other words, just think the question and you¡¯ll receive a response. Now, any further questions for us before we proceed?¡± For some reasons or another, Miles¡¯ head was remarkably clear at the moment. He didn¡¯t feel anxious or afraid, just curious. He did have one question to ask however. ¡°When I walked into that orange light I was with a young girl, could you tell me what happened to her?¡± The man gave him a sympathetic look before answering, ¡°All species are different in regards to mana accessibility. Often times, in species that don¡¯t naturally have access to it, interfering with genetic code at such a young age can cause mortal trauma. As the priest said, we would like to avoid unnecessary death outside of the Tempering itself, so children are often set aside and sent to care facilities until they are of age.¡± He tapped a panel that was floating to his right and scrolled through a few sheets. ¡°It appears that the minimum age for your species is twelve cycles.¡± Miles simply nodded and closed his eyes. For the time being it seemed that Mary and the other kids would be safe and well taken care of. From the sound of things, he¡¯d need to be far more worried for himself. Whatever this Tempering was that they kept mentioning; there¡¯d been more than enough context clues to indicate that it was quite possible to die during it. As he focused his thoughts on the near future, he felt a prick in his arm and slowly lost consciousness. Level 4: Todd Coffee? Miles awoke to a very familiar smell. Not only was it familiar, but also very welcome after the trauma he¡¯d been through the past few weeks. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and made his way to the kitchen. ¡°Sarah must have put it on before she left for school.¡± He thought to himself. After pouring himself a glass and adding his prefered amount of creamer, he took a slow sip, savoring the bitter warmth that he¡¯d be craving. ¡­¡°What the hell is this?¡± Miles took a good look around. The coffee gave him a solid dose of confusion alongside his nostalgia. He was very clearly standing in the kitchen of the home he grew up in. As in, he wasn¡¯t in the house he¡¯d lived in alone for the past two years. Also, there was no way his sister could have made coffee for him, after all she was¡­ It all came flooding back to him in a wave of stressful memories. He clutched his head as a headache began to form in his temples. ¡°This feels way too real to be a memory.¡± ¡°I had hoped to avoid this. It¡¯s never easy coming out of an implant procedure, not to mention that yours had some minor complications.¡± Said an innocuous male sounding voice that seemed to originate inside Miles¡¯ head. ¡°Oh great, now I¡¯ve gone crazy. Well then voice in my head, since you seem to have a better grasp on this than I do, care to tell me why I¡¯m standing in my dead family¡¯s kitchen?¡± There was a clear annoyance in his voice as asked. ¡°You haven¡¯t gone crazy, and I¡¯m not a voice in your head. Your mental state is actually quite good all things consi¡­¡± ¡°Voice, get to the point.¡± He said abruptly. ¡°Apologies, I am your A.I. guardian, designation T0-D. During the nanite injection, your body provided more resistance than is usual. Thus you¡¯ve taken longer to awake. I took the luxury of sorting through some of your memories in the meantime, and had hoped to ease you back into reality with an environment that I believed would be comfortable for you. It had not occurred to me that humans would be so...emotional, however, and I shall that into account in the future.¡± Miles made a deep sigh before responding. This artificial intelligence had just glossed over the fact that it had invaded his memories as if it were the most natural thing in the world. He did respect that it had attempted to provide some sort of comfort to him however. ¡°For the immediate future, please refrain from probing in my memories. So what can I call you then? T0-D seems a bit impersonal for a machine living inside my head. How about Todd?¡± There was a moment of silence before the A.I. responded. ¡°I will not access any further memories without permission. It is...unusual for guardians to receive names, but not unwelcome. Also, in the future you may simply think your responses to me. There is no need to speak out loud, and in fact it may provide you a strategic advantage in the future if our discussions were more private.¡± Miles felt a bit silly as he realized he¡¯d been talking to himself out loud. It seemed a bit obvious now that he¡¯d had it pointed out to him that he could just transmit his thoughts to Todd directly. ¡°So back to the question I asked, where am I? What is this place? Also, what next? You said you¡¯re some sort of guardian for me, so what is exactly am I supposed to do? Todd was a Tier 1 A.I., so wasn¡¯t programmed to have complex emotional states, but he was glad to have a patron who was at least intelligent enough to ask thoughtful questions. ¡°You are currently resting in an obelisk on the planet Deagor. The resting chamber allows for complex simulations, so I took the liberty of creating this reproduction based on your memory, as I mentioned. Unfortunately, it is just a simulation. You have been provided the necessary sustenance until your awakening, but from this point onwards your Tempering has begun.¡± There were still a million questions flowing through Miles¡¯ mind, but he quieted most of them and attempted to form some sort of priority list. ¡°I keep hearing that word, Tempering. What exactly does it mean? What¡¯s expected of me?¡± ¡°The Tempering is a Vel ¡®Tar ritual. It¡¯s official purpose is to allow weak species a chance to prove their worth through trials.¡±Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. ¡°What kind of trials are we talking about here?¡± Miles asked with a bit apprehension as he continued to sip on his imaginary coffee. ¡°Amongst the Vel ¡®Tar, strength is valued above everything else. Strength of body, of mind, and of soul. Thus the trials you will undergo will be combat related. You will be given opportunities for growth, but at the risk of your life. You will become useful, or you will die trying.¡± Miles swore internally at his assumption being correct. ¡°Well you¡¯re just a bearer of good news, aren¡¯t you?¡± He thought with a smug irritation. ¡°I am here to keep you alive, if possible. Harsh truths are more important than good-natured lies.¡± His companion responded. Miles really didn¡¯t have a response to that, so he just sat back down on the couch to stew in his own thoughts. How the hell was a one legged cripple supposed to survive a combat trial? Suddenly the comment of his nurse made him a bit angry. They knew he probably wouldn¡¯t survive, but they sent him down here anyways. Well fuck them then, for the first time in a long time he actually had a reason to live. He didn¡¯t plan to kick the bucket now. ¡°Todd, there had been a mention of mana nodes or something to that effect. Does that mean I can use magic now? ¡°Not necessarily, although it is possible. Your species is new, so there isn¡¯t much relevant data on your growth curves. Think about it in more practical terms, mana will allow your body to perform feats that it never could have in the past. Coupled with the nanites in your blood, your body will undergo drastic changes based both on combat experience and personal choices. There is a more tangible way to show you, hold on¡­¡± After a few moments Miles began to feel a soft warmth in his forearm. The sensation was strange, it was as if all the blood in his arm was rushing to a specific point. It wasn¡¯t painful, but left him feeling a bit dizzy. As he looked at it he began to notice what appeared to be some sort of diagram forming under his skin. ¡°This is something that you¡¯ll eventually learn to do mentally, but having a visual representation will be less confusing for you. There is a standard archetype for how mana influences those it permeates. It grants boons to physical strength, speed of body and thought, and in some cases allows individuals to gain powers akin to what you might consider magic. It is technology that allows for such direction interaction with the mana in your body.¡± ¡°That is...a lot to take in. So these numbers are what? A visual representation of mana¡¯s influence on me? As he asked the question he turned his hand palm up and reviewed the dim blue display under his skin. Miles Trevor Reed Class: Unselected Level: Unavailable Life Force: 100/100 (12/hr) Mana: 120/120 (24/hr) Constitution: 12 Endurance: 10 Fortitude: 11 Agility: 6(-8) Dexterity: 14 Reaction: 8(-5) Intelligence: 12 Wisdom: 12 Control: 16 Resistance: 10 Skills: Steady Hand Lvl 17, Pain Tolerance Lvl 8, Athletics Lvl 15(-20) Class Skills: Unavailable Perks: Dextrous (+2 Dexterity, +2 Control) It was certainly interesting to see his life broken down into a series of numbers and skills. There were a few stark reminders of his past in there as well. Things that he¡¯d rather not have had to deal with, but also now seemed to indicate that there was a way to reverse them. ¡°Hey Todd, is it why is it that I only have three skills? Pretty sure that there are more than three things I¡¯m good at. Also, can I assume that the negative stat and skill levels are because of my leg?¡± ¡°Actually, it¡¯s quite surprising that you have three skills at all considering that your species hasn¡¯t been exposed to mana until just recently. The ways in which mana interacts with the body are still somewhat of a mystery. There are patterns, of course, but it still often seems arbitrary. However, one thing known for certain is that skills are recognized and enhanced based on set standards. True personal knowledge of the activity, personal experience, necessity of acquisition, and regularity of use. Also, you are correct. Should you recover the use of your right leg, the negative allocations would be corrected.¡± Miles stood up and set his his coffee cup in the sink. He¡¯d had a lot of information provided for him, but ultimately he still needed to know what he was dealing with in regards to the challenge immediately in front of him. With a deep breath he cleared his head and walked towards the door. ¡°Miles, I highly recommend we go over class selection before you proceed to Deagor. It would be accurate to say that an individual¡¯s class has a larger impact on their combat potential than anything else. Once you leave this haven you won¡¯t be able to return anytime soon.¡± He paused in deep thought for a moment before responding. ¡°I understand that it¡¯s obviously important, but I won¡¯t be able to make any kind of decision without knowledge of what I¡¯m dealing with. I need to be informed before I decide on a path.¡± Todd did not dissent. The A.I. was, of course, trying to provide the best possible course of action to keep Miles alive, but the man did have a rational argument. With their discussion at an end, Miles reached out and grasped the knob on the front door of his old imaginary home. The man and his companion pressed out into the unknown.