ã€ŠStormborn Ascendant: A LitRPG Apocalypseã€‹


 1: Into The Storm

    It wasn''t supposed to end like this.

    Tyler wasn''t supposed to be bedridden at the age of twenty, working a dead-end job that he could barely even do. He had dreamt so long of leaving this hellhole. He had been on the cusp of making it out, despite everything working against him.

    The damp chill of winter was seeping into him from all sides, aggravating the rampant inflammation coursing through his body. His joints popped and groaned like rusty hinges, every shiver sending aches flushing through the red-hot network of flesh and bone.

    ¡°Ugh.¡±

    He eyed the acceptance letters and scholarships hanging up on his wall. He''d been so excited for them back then, so certain that they would lead him to a bright future. Now the sight of them just made the pain sink further into his tired bones.

    Really, he thought the hope was what had made it hurt so bad. If he hadn¡¯t been so ambitious, so hopeful, then the eventual crash back to reality likely wouldn¡¯t have stung at all. Like the rest of his family, he could have grown numb to it.

    Heat was supposed to be good for pain. The fire in his belly had kept him going all those years ¡ª dreaming of a better future. But just like the uncontrolled inflammation flooding through his tender fingers and swollen ankles, it was also the source.

    His neck creaked as he eyed his cracked window. Snow was falling in heavy gusts outside, piling onto his windowsill in a little mound of fluffy white. He used to love playing in the snow, back before ¡ª

    WARNING: The Dimensional Storm is Coming

    He blinked.

    What the hell was that?

    He must have been even more sleep-deprived than he thought. It wasn¡¯t like the text was a physical thing ¡ª it seemed to float more in his thoughts, like a stamp in the corner of his mind that he couldn¡¯t quite wipe away. Just a couple of years ago, he might have been much more curious about the hallucination. As it was¡­

    Well, he couldn¡¯t bring himself to care.

    Boom.

    The crack of thunder rattled his bedframe, making him grimace as it aggravated his inflammation. Thousands of tiny impacts began to thunk against his window.

    Tyler sighed. A hailstorm.

    It looked severe enough that he should probably take shelter, at least according to the beeping warning on his phone.

    He could get out and get his cane, then limp over to the bathroom. He was the only one in the house. It was almost Christmas ¡ª his roommates would all be out visiting their families.

    Thunder cracked once more, the accompanying lightning bathing his room in illumination for just a split second.

    Tyler gritted his teeth, struggling to push himself into a seating position. His joints ached so much. After an agonizing moment, he slumped back down.

    Not worth it.

    What difference would it make if he got swept up in the storm? It wasn''t like there would be anyone to mourn him. He briefly wondered how long it would take for anyone to realize he was dead, if his window broke and debris impaled him through the skull. His roommates wouldn¡¯t be back for another two weeks, and they were far too busy partying to pay a bedridden prop any real attention.

    WARNING: The Dimensional Storm is Coming

    The message was beginning to flash like an urgent notification, and the clattering of hail seemed to grow louder as he pulled the blankets tighter and forced his eyes shut. He would stay in bed, just like he had the last hundred times he¡¯d tried to dredge up the willpower to leave it.

    Clink. Clink. Clink.

    ¡°God, fuck it all. Fuck. It. All.¡±

    Despite his limbs¡¯ protests, he shoved the covers off, shakily pushing himself upright.

    He wasn''t letting the universe beat him that easily. He was sure that it wanted to drag him back down to the depths of despair, but he wasn''t going to let it, at least not without a fight.

    With a herculean effort, he pushed himself off the bed, grabbing his shoddy cane and hobbling step by step into the hallway. His knees and elbows screamed at him, not at all warmed up enough to handle such a task.

    So goddamn cold.

    How had the apartment lost heat so fast? It felt like just hours ago that he''d turned the thermostat up to as toasty as it could go, but now his toes felt numb as the chill injected itself directly into his unprotected skin.

    He slipped.

    ¡°Shit.¡±

    He wheezed in pain as his knee knocked against the wooden floor. His cane caught him before he could fall further, but even the slight impact spread throughout his leg like lightning.

    The thunder was getting louder, and that stupid, half-real message was still lingering in his mind, flashing insistently in a way that just made him more annoyed.

    Whatever. He just had to make it to the bathroom.

    Tyler forced himself up.

    One step. Another. Another.

    Eventually, he made it through the creaky doorway and into the tiny little room. The freezing tile stung even more than the wood had.

    He looked in the mirror, grimacing as he saw just how decrepit he was. He was so emaciated at this point that he could hardly recognize himself. He looked more like an eighty-year-old on his deathbed than a twenty-year-old who was supposed to be just starting his adult life.

    Tyler clenched his fist, leaning against the sink as he hung his head.

    I can¡¯t keep living like this. I can¡¯t ¡ª

    The Dimensional Storm Has Come.

    The entire building lurched as a great boom shook the earth, purple sparks appearing midair one by one in a swirling hail.

    His forearms stung as they smashed into the edge of the sink.

    ¡°Fuck!¡± He gasped, wincing as the sparks stung like tiny pinpricks of electricity on his skin. They seemed to linger there, melting like snowflakes on his bare skin.

    What was going on? Was he hallucinating?

    Crash.

    There was a rush of cold air behind him, and he slowly forced himself upright.

    What?

    There was a hole in his bathroom.

    Instead of stained white walls and a tiny bathtub, it was just a swirl of snow and darkness and crackling violet. A flash of lightning showered the world in color, and slowly, he began to piece together the scene.

    There was a hole blown into the side of his building. He was looking out into the street, obscured by a torrent of white and purple. But as the lightning flashed in and out, he glimpsed a pair of enormous wings flapping out in the distance.

    Flash. A swooping tail, and vicious scaled claws gripping at the side of a building.

    Flash. A mouth full of wicked fangs and slowly-building green light.

    A dragon. There was a fucking dragon.

    Light suddenly flooded the street, and a torrent of heat washed over him as the dragon belched flames of liquid emerald that flowed over the apartment complex just next to his. At the same time, streaks of razor-sharp red swarmed against it, smashing and stinging it in a whirlwind of crimson that he could barely see.

    But as the dragon battled the swarm with tooth and claw, Tyler''s eyes managed to focus on one that was hovering near himself. It was a bird made of pure metal, dripping blood-red liquid and with feathers as sharp as knives.

    It screeched and shot back into the fray, immediately blurring as it crossed the air too fast for his brain to track. As it joined the tornado of death surrounding the enormous creature, another burst of fire tore through the sidewalk, leaving a trail of steaming concrete that instantly melted the snow pouring on top of it.

    It was so hard to see. It was so hard to comprehend.

    The swarm of birds flitted out into the distance before circling back to the dragon, swooping around rooftops and streetlights as they shredded everything in their path.

    The dragon tore and ripped and scorched its way through the flock, taking a hundred cuts to its scales but catching dozens of its foes with each strike. The two parties clashed in a delicate dance, the swarm of birds swooping in and out of the dragon¡¯s range every couple of seconds ¡ª gathering in a group for just a second before splitting to avoid the dragon¡¯s eventual lunge.

    One, two, three times they clashed, and every time the birds managed to split before the titanic creature tore into their numbers. They were taking many casualties, but they also seemed to be whittling the dragon down.

    The swarm reconvened once more, swirling in a veritable hurricane of black and red. They danced along cold concrete walls and dark alleys, a morphing mass of metal that eventually positioned itself in the yard outside of an apartment. Outside of his apartment.

    Tyler''s eyes widened.

    The dragon turned towards the birds ¡ª towards him ¡ª and fire gathered in its jaws with a blinding corona.

    No, no, fuck this. I''m not going to die like this.

    He forced himself to turn, taking a feeble step back towards the hallway. The purple sparks grated against his skin more prominently than ever before, as if they were drilling into his very being. He could feel their energy coursing through him, meshing with him in some way that he couldn¡¯t quite understand.

    I''m not going to die here. I''m not going to die here. I''m not going to die here.

    But it was too late. Green light shone against his skin.

    He turned.

    ¡°No!¡±

    With every ounce of his being, he screamed in defiance, chucking his cane at the incoming beast.

    And then there was black.

    Purple.

    Swirling colors and morphing shapes in a kaleidoscope of meaning that he could scarcely comprehend. The world seemed to cradle him, like an infinite blanket cocooning his existence as the rest of reality trembled.

    An erupting volcano surrounded by blades of floating steel.

    An enormous tree reaching higher than the eye could see, knots of iridescent light pulsing along its branches.

    Images flashed by, one by one, flitting through his periphery like fractals dancing in a sea of thought. The sparks on his skin burned, but the sensation was so distant, like a long-forgotten dream.

    Armies at war, wielding brilliant magics and superhuman strength as they leapt over canyons and hillsides to clash in a burst of fire and lightning.

    The thriving silhouette of humanity¡¯s greatest cities, suddenly flooded and besieged by monsters.

    One. Two. Three. Four.

    The universe bent around him, spinning so fast and yet remaining perfectly still, every vision splitting and then splitting again, leaving him profoundly weightless yet rocketing through this sea of sensation at impossible speed.

    Five. Six seven eight. Nineteneleventwelvethirteenfourteenfifteen ¡ª

    ¡°Gah!¡±

    Tyler gasped as he awoke upon a bed of warm sand.

    His ears were ringing. His vision was blurry. It felt warm. Pleasantly warm.

    The purple mist was still stinging him, effusing his surroundings in the same way it had in his apartment. There wasn¡¯t a trace of snow to be found, save for the already-melting dusting of it that covered his body. The air tasted faintly of salt.

    Palm trees swayed pleasantly above him, casting their shade over the entrance of a large, craggy cave just a dozen feet over. He was on the beach.

    But things were off.

    There was a lush forested area just feet away, and the line where the sand and the grass met was abrupt ¡ª nearly jagged in appearance. The cave looked so out of place, compared to the rest of the environment. It was made of a different sort of stone than the rocks littering his surroundings ¡ª a smooth, almost orange thing that he felt should have been eroded away given how far it stretched into the beach. And the beach itself¡­If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    Beautiful ocean waves lapped against the shore, but after just a dozen feet, the water faded entirely in favor of something stranger. A chaotic swirl of obsidian and violet, transparent as glass yet as opaque as the darkest night. Sitting perfectly still and yet furiously thrumming with every speck of its being.

    It was like this place had been scooped up and placed in a roiling cosmic soup. The substance that must have comprised the Dimensional Storm stretched out as far as the eye could see, swallowing the ocean and even the edges of the sky as those same purple wisps that clung to him misted off from its surface.

    Tyler swallowed. Had he been inside of that?

    His arms still hurt from when they¡¯d smashed into his sink.

    He turned dumbly back to the other side of the island. Debris was beginning to appear out of nowhere. If he ¡ª

    Tyler nearly choked as he glimpsed a humanoid figure standing just feet away from him.

    He looked familiar enough from the neck down, sporting a long, intricately-decorated coat and a belt full of bottles and satchels. But two enormous gray horns curled upwards from his head, sticking at least a foot out from his mass of shaggy black hair.

    System Boon Engaged: Analysis

    Savadiere ¡ª Aspect of Reflection

    The ringing in his ears had died down now, and through the rushing winds he could just barely make out the fact that this person was talking.

    ¡°WEJdgwaTad, KwgdvsefiyE Jwetdvadj ooi ¡ª¡±

    System Boon Engaged: Speech Attunement

    Tyler blinked.

    ¡°Hmm, interesting. But still cursed with the power of the Storm.¡±

    The horned man now appeared to be speaking in perfect English, stroking his bare chin as he intensely examined something in his hand. A banana.

    ¡°The readings seem normal, but the Curse is even stronger than I had expected it to be¡­¡±

    With a wave of his hand, a spinning mandala of crystalline light flickered into existence above the fruit, and then whooshed through the air as it passed through the object, keeping it floating midair.

    ¡°How peculiar. Perhaps a consequence of the innate magic of the cave?¡±

    Tyler wheezed, forcing himself up onto his knees.

    The man ignored him, continuing to mutter under his breath as more debris began to swirl around them. ¡°Yes, very strong. But even if one were suitable, the restrictions would be far too inconvenient. Useless. How unfortunate.¡±

    A road sign blinked into existence and crashed into a nearby tree before disappearing again, and a can of old soda flew off into the air, smacking the stranger in the arm. The sand was warm and soft beneath Tyler¡¯s hands.

    ¡°What¡¯s¡­ what¡¯s going on?¡±

    The stranger turned towards him, as if he were just now noticing Tyler¡¯s presence. ¡°Ah. A sapient race. Have you encountered any extradimensional influence in the moments before you were transported here? Any creatures not native to your world, or forces not congruent with your native physics?¡±

    Tyler blinked at him dumbly. ¡°Dr-dragon?¡±

    The man¡¯s eyes lit up. Before Tyler could say anything else, he was standing over him, examining him with the same intensity he had been directing towards the banana. ¡°Hmm¡­ Carried through by the Storm, relatively intact. If the integration is already this deep, then it¡¯s possible.¡±

    He began muttering to himself once more.

    A crystalline ball appeared out of thin air next to them, and the horned man manipulated it with a wave of his finger, projecting it upwards into the sky. He pulled out a knife and pricked his palm, squeezing out a drop of blood and sending it upwards to splash against the ball.

    The violet sparks seemed to be pooling from the cosmic sea, glowing like a swarm of mad fireflies as they spun around them faster than he could track. The stinging had subsided, for some reason. Now it was almost as if they were avoiding him.

    Magic. This was all magic. With all the shock he¡¯d scarcely comprehended that fact.

    Tyler glanced back up at the alien man, taking in the myriad of spinning circles flashing in and out of existence around him. It was beautiful.

    ¡°I¡¯d suggest you prepare yourself.¡±

    ¡°Huh?¡±

    Before he could say anything else, a deafening crack blasted through the air. Tyler''s head snapped upwards just in time to see the massive dragon appear from the stormcloud in a blaze of green fire.

    System Boon Engaged: Analysis

    In the blink of an eye, the world seemed to slow. The sparks in the air stilled, and the plume of flame emanating from the beast was caught mid-blast, frozen in a beautiful corona around the bloody beast.

    Byuntog, Thousand-Year-Old Emerald Dragon

    The emerald dragons are not born the strongest amongst their draconic brethren. They do not have the abundant physical strength of their ruby counterparts, nor the powerful magical affinity of the sapphires. However, their diaspora rule over countless worlds due to their unmatched ability to grow.

    This creature has had a millennium to accumulate power.

    It looked even larger now in the daylight, its scaled leathery wings spanning the sky and plunging the island into darkness. It leveled predatory reptilian eyes upon them, and as time snapped back to normal, Tyler thought he saw a hint of desire as the dragon plunged downwards faster than he could track.

    Towards them.

    The horned man smiled beside him. ¡°Wonderful!¡±

    With a snap of his fingers, the sphere unfolded into a giant, transparent matrix of crystal, which sang like tinkling glass as the dragon clashed with it. A titanic tail crashed into the shield with such force that it shook the surrounding trees.

    Faster than it¡¯d ever come before, a river of liquid emerald blasted into the shield, so blindingly bright that even through his closed eyes spots were seared into his vision.

    But even as he heard the definitive crack that must have been the destruction of the crystalline barrier, all the man beside him did was laugh. The light suddenly dissipated, and Tyler forced his eyes back open, prepared to face his death for the second time in as many minutes.

    But in the seconds that the barrier had held, the stranger hadn¡¯t been idle. A spinning sphere of light had formed around his outstretched hand, so dense so as to be almost solid. The magic crackled and fizzled as the world seemed to stretch around the technique, and as the dragon swept down with a claw that could have leveled skyscrapers, yet another message appeared in the front of his mind.

    Absolute Counter

    Tyler watched in slow-motion as the chaotic sphere bloomed outwards into a single, clean surface. A pane of pure transparent energy layered over the man¡¯s palm, so thin and delicate that it looked like it could shatter into a million pieces at the slightest touch.

    When the dragon¡¯s strike met the magic, it was as if reality itself shattered for just a blink. One moment the creature was throwing all of its strength into the attack, jaws open in a ferocious roar, and the next it was in a deep crater on the ground.

    The entire island trembled.

    Tyler desperately shielded himself, but he needn''t have bothered. Even as the aftershocks crushed the nearby trees and sent a ring of dirt blasting around them, another magic circle appeared in front of him, blocking the tremendous shockwave of the impact.

    The horned man snapped another finger, and a cuboid black thing appeared high in the sky, half the size of the dragon itself.

    Was that a cauldron?

    Its pitted surface looked almost glassy underneath the slowly-dissipating purple sparks, and it seemed to bob in the air, as if it were floating on nothing but the wind. Carved runes gleamed a bright gold on each of its sides, and as the alien man snapped they seemed to burn with energy.

    The enormous cauldron shot downwards, tearing through the air and slamming the dragon further into the ground. Another rumble throughout the ground, another shockwave and spray of debris that splashed harmlessly against the magic circles in front of them.

    ¡°Just for good measure,¡± the stranger hummed.

    Tyler coughed. It tasted like dirt.

    What just happened?

    The horned man was already floating above the corpse, more circles flashing through the air as he examined the gargantuan creature. ¡°Hmm, the Growth was amplified by the Storm. Intriguing, intriguing.¡±

    He could still see its snarling head, opened in that terrifying roar that Tyler had been so sure would be the final thing he heard. But no sound came.

    He just killed a dragon.

    The magic circles around the dragon began to spin, slowly floating it into the awaiting cauldron that seemed to have grown even bigger as it slowly turned to its side. The mist was almost gone now, the thunder distant and faint. Glowing veridian flames slowly licked at the surrounding trees, contrasting with the remaining void-colored cracks that pulsed through the sky.

    That thing had destroyed his entire block, in its fight with the birds. It had rampaged through concrete and steel, and shrugged off attacks that must have been as deadly as gunshots by the hundreds.

    And then this man had slapped it aside like a fly.

    Tyler couldn¡¯t stop replaying the scene in his mind ¡ª the warping of reality around them, the sheer weight of the monster¡¯s attack colliding with this delicate film of magic. And then the blink ¡ª the sudden shift that seemed instantaneous even through the slowed time that this weird System Boon seemed to put him through.

    That was power. Real magic, the likes of which made everything he¡¯d seen before look like parlor tricks.

    The stranger slapped the cauldron with both palms, causing it to disappear into thin air. ¡°Came looking for a jewel and I stumbled upon the dragon¡¯s hoard. Though in this case the hoard is the dragon itself, hah!¡±

    He isn¡¯t even phased. He¡¯s happy that a dragon got teleported right on top of him.

    The horned man indeed looked incredibly pleased with himself. ¡°I''ll need a couple higher tiers of cores than what I have right now. Hmm¡­¡±

    The man levitated himself up again, waving his hand into the cave and withdrawing a stream of devices and instruments that he proceeded to shrink down and pack into the array of bags and bottles at his waist. ¡°I''ll need to track down a kraken or two to make the best use out of this. Perhaps some will have appeared on the outskirts.¡±

    Tyler stared at him with an intensity in his eyes that he hadn¡¯t felt in years.

    Tyler needed that. More than the air he breathed and the blood running through his veins ¡ª at that moment, he needed the power that he¡¯d just been shown. The power to decide fate, to protect himself against anything the world could throw at him.

    The stranger dusted himself off, forming a circle under his feet that thrummed with energy.

    He¡¯s about to go.

    ¡°Wait!¡± Tyler shouted. ¡°Please!¡±

    The horned man paused, the circle continuing to spin just a moment before its light began to dim. He slowly turned back around. ¡°Yes?¡±

    Tyler forced himself to his feet. The motion felt like it was tearing his knees apart, but he grimaced and held the man¡¯s gaze.

    ¡°Please tell me how to do what you just did. That was incredible. I''ve ¡ª I''ve never seen magic before.¡± His voice caught, the sheer overwhelm of the last couple of minutes keeping him in a stranglehold. He didn''t know what to say. But the stranger hadn¡¯t left yet. He just had to keep talking.

    ¡°I don''t know where I am, I don''t know what just happened, but I know that you have power. Power unlike anything I''ve ever seen before. I don''t even know how I survived that dragon the first time ¡ª the best I could do was throw my stupid cane at it. And if it weren''t for you, I wouldn''t have survived just now. Please, teach me how. I¡¯m tired of being so powerless. I want to fight for my own fate.¡±

    The stranger stared at him, a pensive expression on his face, and Tyler realized just how much of a risk he''d just taken. This was a man who could crush him with the flick of a finger ¡ª who wasn¡¯t even really human. He didn''t know anything about him. What reason did this man have to help him?

    Magic circles spun to life around him, and Tyler flinched.

    But they just passed through him without any impact, flitting around him just like they had done with the banana.

    The horned man floated towards him, stroking his chin in deep thought. ¡°Stormborn? Perhaps¡­¡±

    A couple more circles whooshed through him, and Tyler exhaled, trying to calm his ferociously racing heart. He was still alive. That had to mean something, right?

    ¡°You said that you threw your cane? At that dragon?¡±

    Tyler reddened. ¡°It was stupid, I know. I just ¡ª I didn¡¯t know what else to do. I had to try something. I wasn¡¯t going to just stand there and take it. I¡­¡±

    He trailed off, cringing even as the words came out of his mouth. What was he even saying? The stranger was just looking at him, expressionless.

    Then the man dropped back onto the ground with a laugh, picking up the banana that he must have discarded some time during the fight. ¡°What¡¯s your name, stranger?¡±

    ¡°T-Tyler. Tyler Thorn.¡±

    ¡°My name is Savadiere, Master of Reflection. I will not lie to you ¡ª your spirit is weak, and your body is somehow even weaker. There is an Aspect that is blooming within you, but you do not have the time to Awaken it naturally. This island is fairly mild, but you will still die within the day as you are.¡±

    Savadiere motioned to the banana.

    ¡°This fruit is cursed with the power of the Dimensional Storm, meaning that it will spiritually shackle anyone who eats it. For most who consume it, it will hollow their soul from the inside out, leaving them dead within the day. And even if you survive, the restrictions upon your spirit are usually¡­ severe. For a being like me, it would be unfathomably idiotic to consume such a thing.¡±

    He held up a finger.

    ¡°But on the small chance that you do bond with the Curse ¡ª and on the smaller chance that your magic works with it synergistically ¡ª this fruit could give you the power you need to survive, and the potential to go far. Further, perhaps, than even those like myself.¡±

    He paused, staring pointedly at Tyler. ¡°But potential is little better than hopes and dreams, you hear me? The odds are, even in the best-case scenario you don¡¯t have the resources, or the mindset, or the luck to actualize it. So, tell me now. Will you take those odds?¡±

    Tyler barely understood anything that he¡¯d had just said, and he was sure he¡¯d have so many questions, as soon as the shock of it all faded. But he thought he understood enough. The potential to go far. Further, perhaps, than even those like myself.

    He clenched his fists. He was tired of living his life just barely scraping by. If he was fated to die to that stupid banana, then he would welcome it with open arms. He was almost grateful that the decision was already made for him. After all¡­

    Tyler swallowed. ¡°The alternative is just letting myself die on this island, right?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°Then I want it.¡±

    He looked into the eyes of the man who had single-handedly defeated a beast the size of a small house. He still didn''t know what was going on, but he knew that this was a second chance. He felt the burning in his limbs, the raging inflammation that had consumed his life for the past three years.

    Even if he could go back to living like that, he wouldn¡¯t want to.

    Savadiere matched his gaze. ¡°Know that even if you successfully consume it, this fruit is and will always be Cursed. You will be crippled no matter what ¡ª locked out of entire schools of magic, never able to do the things that even the most novice of Novices can master within their first week of Awakening.¡±

    At that, Tyler couldn¡¯t help but laugh. ¡°Sorry. I just ¡ª sounds just like my life right now.¡±

    The horned man looked at him, then gave the slightest nod of approval.

    He waved a hand, summoning forth the sphere that had turned into that crystalline shield against the dragon. It was cracked and broken, opaque rather than translucent, and it seemed to be crumbling apart by the second. He tapped the sphere, and the entire thing shattered, leaving just one piece of transparent crystal floating midair. ¡°Take that, then. It''s broken to the point of being useless for me, but perhaps it could still hold up to the vermin that dot this island.¡±

    Faster than he could react, the small crystal slashed at his arm. It held itself there at the tiny wound, smearing itself with the drop of blood that had welled out.

    The Core of Protection has been attuned to you.

    ¡°T-thank you. I ¡ª¡±

    Before Tyler could finish his sentence, another host of magic circles instantly peeled the banana, ripped out the seeds, and shoved the flesh into his mouth.

    Tyler swallowed, the movement more out of instinct than any conscious thought. It tasted strange, like pear and vanilla. The chewy substance tingled as it went down his throat.

    He let out a breath. Slowly, his fingers began to tremble. His heart fluttered, and jolts of electricity danced through his veins.

    System Boon Engaged: Analysis

    You have consumed a Storm-Cursed Treasure. Curse attuning¡­

    Tyler gasped.

    A wave of enormous pressure bloomed from the alien man, coming from a sense that hadn¡¯t been there just a moment ago. It was like his eyes had been closed his entire life, and now he had opened them just to find himself staring at the sun.

    ¡°You can thank me by surviving.¡±

    Savadiere stepped closer to him, and Tyler felt like he was being crushed from all sides as the horned man put a hand on his shoulder. ¡°When awakening an Aspect, it is recommended that you undergo a trial to strengthen the Resonance within you. This goes doubly if you¡¯re going about it using a Storm-Touched Treasure ¡ª your soul will need to withstand the Curse within it, and consume it to make it your own.¡±

    Suddenly, the man pushed a circle onto Tyler, shooting him into the cave. Another circle caught his fall, sitting him down on the cool stone with a soft thump.

    ¡°This is the cave of my ancestral peoples. If you survive, you may learn a great deal by examining their teachings.¡±

    The man stood outside the cave, more magic circles flickering around, and then gave him a brief smile. A final magic circle appeared, spinning around a thick log propped up against the edge of the cave. Slowly, the log lifted, and Tyler deftly realized that it was the exact shape of the small cave entrance.

    ¡°Wait ¡ª¡±

    Thud.

    Suddenly, the cave was bathed in darkness. The soft glow of a table caught aflame by the dragon¡¯s breath illuminated mesh sacks of fruit scattered around him.

    Something was chittering behind him.

    Tyler scrambled back with a shiver, catching glimpses of beady eyes and a trio of wicked claws in the dark.

    Savadiere spoke from outside the cave, his voice muffled by the heavy wood suddenly between them. ¡°This Curse is extremely powerful, so much so that I wouldn''t trust someone with even twice your potential to have a chance. But if you manage to survive¡­¡±

    The man laughed.

    ¡°Well, the stronger the Curse, the stronger the benefit.¡±

 2: Back Against A Wall

    Crack.

    The Core of Protection is engaged.

    ¡°Gah!¡± Tyler shouted, flinching back as a transparent, ten-foot-wide bubble popped into existence around him.

    The cave looked so much more ominous in the dark, giant carvings of some sort scarring the walls around him in jagged shapes. He felt a pressure release from his senses that must have coincided with Savadiere leaving the island, and he still smelled the mild saltiness of the sea permeating the air.

    The bubble stopped behind him as it melded against the cave¡¯s existing walls. There were piles of fruit to his back, and the remains of a couple of broken workstations scattered around him. One of them was aflame with smokeless green dragonfire, and its soft glow was the only thing illuminating the large cave.

    Then he caught sight of his attacker as the beige-carapaced thing lunged towards him once more.

    System Boon Engaged: Analysis

    Juvenile Duneclaw

    Duneclaws are the foremost pests of the world of Korshaan, fast-reproducing scavengers that collect sources of magic in their pouches and infest them with their eggs.

    Their tail-claws are reinforced with layers of chitin and strong enough to crack bone, but the moisture of this juvenile¡¯s environment has weakened the rest of its armor, making it vulnerable to crushing strikes. It has not developed the pheromones that cause its siblings to swarm upon its death, but the scent of its wounds will still attract its brethren should they draw close.

    Lit by the flickering verdant light, it looked like a scorpion mixed with a lobster, with two fat pincers on its forelimbs and a series of whiskers around its fanged mouth. But instead of a stinger, another claw ¡ª thinner and even more wicked-looking ¡ª emerged from its long upraised tail.

    And instead of the tiny scorpions or arm-sized lobsters of Earth, this one was larger than most dogs.

    Time sped back up, and Tyler watched it swipe down with its right pincer, creating a horrible shrieking noise as its strike bounced off the transparent barrier.

    He trembled as the events of the past day flew by, his brain working overtime to process it all as the creature slowly put crack after crack into the barrier around him.

    I¡¯m undergoing a trial to Awaken something. And the Curse is taking hold of my body. And this all happened because a giant purple storm took me and put me on an island full of monsters in the middle of a vat of cosmic soup.

    Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

    The duneclaw threw itself at the shield again and again, and though his entire body trembled, Tyler forced himself to focus.

    He had to get up. He had to ¡ª

    ¡°Woah!¡±

    He stumbled, his body generating far more force than he should have been capable of. He careened over to the floor, and newly-awakened instinct brought his hands out in front of him, catching him in a roll and landing him back on his feet in a crouch.

    The banana.

    Like a sixth sense, he felt energy coursing through him, seeping into his limbs like water onto dry sand. It felt amazing. It dampened the pain, made it bearable to move behind all the adrenaline and stress. And as he moved¡­

    It was like all his life he¡¯d been burning gasoline, and now he was loaded with jet fuel.

    His next attempt to stand worked, but then the first step took him too far, and as he tried to catch himself as he had earlier ¡ª

    ¡°Fuck.¡±

    He seethed as the enhancement faded, and he landed hard against the cave wall, his legs knocking over a large sack of coconuts. The inflammation raged through his body now, whatever the Curse had done to him clearly aggravating his condition just as much as the day¡¯s exertion.

    After that brief respite, the pain only felt that much worse.

    He grimaced, wanting nothing but to curl up into a ball and cry as his body took vengeance on him for daring to have hope.

    But he saw the spiderweb of cracks spreading through the shield around him. He didn¡¯t have time. He pushed against the smooth, cracked stone, the action ten times harder than it would have been with whatever energy had been helping him earlier. He still felt something welling up within him, but somehow it wasn¡¯t connecting properly. If he could just ¡ª

    The shield shattered.

    The duneclaw instantly lunged at him, and Tyler threw himself to the side, just barely dodging the thing¡¯s leaping strike as it lashed out with its massive tail.

    He caught himself in a roll and shot to his feet, the energy surging through him once more. The monster had crashed into the wall, its chitters turning into a shriek, but it was only the barest moment before it was running at him again.Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

    There was a leg of a table two steps away. If he could reach it ¡ª

    Too late.

    ¡°Fuck!¡± he screamed as the energy failed him halfway through his dodge, allowing the insectoid creature to score a gash down his arm. The thing hadn¡¯t even grabbed him with its claw ¡ª it had been the outside of the pincer that had lacerated his skin as the true attack just barely missed.

    His instinct was to grab the wound, to curl up, to run away. But even as a new pain joined the symphony of agony singing through his body, he fought against it and grabbed the table leg.

    He needed to fight back. He needed to think.

    That message said it was vulnerable to crushing strikes.

    He weakly swung at the thing as it lunged, missing and catching another gash along his wrist. He almost tripped on one of the stray coconuts that now dotted the cave floor. His knees screamed with the effort. The energy still wasn¡¯t back.

    Fuck.

    It had almost caught his hand that time. It was being more cautious now, slowly circling him as it hissed wildly with its alien mouth.

    Strategy. He needed strategy.

    As he looked closer, he could see that the chitin in the thing¡¯s front pincers had cracked from its strikes against the Core¡¯s projection. It hadn¡¯t used them a single time against him ¡ª it was attacking exclusively with its tail.

    And though it was far bigger than it had any right to be, Tyler still had the size advantage. With anything hard enough, he was sure he could break through that armor. A well-placed rock to the brain would surely do it in, if he could time it with those bursts he got from the energy.

    The only rocks he saw were too far away, but he did have those coconuts.

    As a new rush of energy flooded his body, Tyler reached under him and hurled a coconut at the duneclaw. The fruit passed straight over the creature as it scuttled to chase him, but then another one caught it flat in the face.

    Though the boost had faded halfway through the awkward throw, he still imparted more force into the projectile than he¡¯d mustered in years. The monster reeled back, and when it drew itself upright again, he could see a new crack in its chitin.

    It screeched, and whether it was in pain or in rage, Tyler couldn¡¯t tell.

    The creature dashed forwards, completely ignoring a far-too-weak coconut hurl, and leaped at him, giant pincer coming down to close around his neck.

    He barely got his stick up in time to block.

    The thing¡¯s tail crushed the damaged wood, and he felt an instinctual terror rise up within him as it collided with him, its two front limbs snapping at the fabric of his pajama shirt.

    Agony sprouted from his chest as his back collided against the wall.

    Blood. Leaking.

    I¡¯m going to die. I¡¯m going to die.

    The broken half of his table leg that he still held on to was pressed uselessly against the thing, and his arms trembled with the effort of just keeping it up. This thing was completely overpowering him, its claws digging gashes in his chest with a primal fury. What the fuck was he doing? What kind of insanity had possessed him, thinking he could survive anything?

    The thing¡¯s tail reared back for another strike.

    No. I¡¯m sick of being trampled.

    With a guttural scream, Tyler slammed its body into the ground with all the force his cramping arms could muster.

    No enhancement. Just every ounce of power he could wrench out of this frail form.

    Slap.

    His follow-up strike with the broken wood barely stunned it. A pincer had closed around his leg, but it was one of the weaker front limbs.

    Fuck.

    He gritted his teeth and raised his other leg, energy streaming through him once more. And as the thing¡¯s tail rose up for another strike, he stomped on it.

    Tyler wasn¡¯t that heavy, all things considered. He was of decidedly below-average height, and his inflammation had dashed all his hopes of ever gaining some muscle on his frame. When he¡¯d looked himself in the mirror these past few years, he¡¯d seen barely anything more than skin and bones.

    But he was still a full-grown human being, and this thing weighed maybe fifty pounds at best.

    As his bare foot hit the chitin plate connecting the tail to the rest of the creature¡¯s body, the joint caved in with a spray of insectoid blood. Its tail went limp, and the claw gripping his calf tightened as its entire body convulsed.

    And though his knees felt like they would snap, he stomped down again. And again. And again.

    With all the rage and hate and defiance that came from being whisked from his home and trapped in a cave with a horrid monster, he slammed his foot into the thing, screaming as its chitinous body cracked underneath his blows. He demolished every section of its body, from its head to its tail, and then back up again as he felt a cloud of determination rush over his mind. He was fucking tired of getting run over like roadkill. He would not die to something like this. He would not die on this island. He would survive everything the fucking universe wanted to throw at him. He would¡­

    As the enhancement gave out one final time, he noticed the small splotches of red dripping onto the duneclaw¡¯s now-immobile form. The thing¡¯s head had been utterly caved in, and bits of slimy flesh clung to his foot. He¡¯d killed it.

    For a moment he stood there, chest heaving as he looked down at the dead monster.

    The blood was cold against his skin.

    He took a shaky breath, feeling the tearing pain in his flesh ¡ª the red-hot pressure pooling in his joints. He managed one last stomp.

    Then his legs gave out from underneath him.

    ¡ª ¨C ¡ª

    But though he couldn¡¯t see it, as Tyler Thorn was knocked unconscious on the cold cave floor, a series of notifications dotted that strange, new area of his mind. Within his soul, the crackling, chaotic energy of the Curse finally dissipated, and every corner of his being was transformed as something Awakened within him.

    You have consumed a Storm-Cursed Treasure. Curse Class: Primordial Infinity.

    Those Cursed with Primordial Infinity are bound in paradox, just as the Primordials of old. Their souls are limitlessly large, infinite in potential, and yet forever bound to the confines of the body. One¡¯s meridians remain eternally locked, their mana unable to affect the outside world despite its unending volume.

    For most, this Curse represents a fate of eternal torment ¡ª of boundless potential but the inability to wield it. The majority of those who are cursed with Primordial Infinity die powerless and pitiful, full of anger and regret. But for a select few¡­ they may rise far beyond the realm of imagination.

    Congratulations! You have Awakened a Novice Resonance with the Aspect of Resilience.

 3: Awakening

    Tyler was running, but he wasn¡¯t sure why. Everything around him was distorted, the air tinged violet as thick flurries of purple snow fell from the sky. His limbs hurt, but somehow it was a distant pain, not quite reaching him.

    Crash.

    Something was going on above him. He saw flashes of bright emerald light. He turned around, and a ginormous dragon swooped down and engulfed him.

    But instead of its throat, he found himself in a cave, surrounded by duneclaws.

    They chittered as they circled him, and he gritted his teeth, calling his mana in the pattern that he¡¯d just learned. But it just sloshed uselessly inside of him.

    The duneclaws pounced, striking one after another, scoring gash after gash on his body. Each wound carried with it the power of magic, and he realized he was the only one without it. Their shrieks were so loud, so all-consuming as they slowly devoured him alive.

    He screamed, begging for the energy to come back, to give him the strength to fight off these creatures. But a creeping purple mist was coming for him from all directions. The next thing he knew, he was submerged in a vast kaleidoscopic sea, the sensations so bright he couldn¡¯t shut them out ¡ª

    And then he wasn¡¯t in the cave anymore, but on dry grass.

    Smoke. Burning rubber. Airbags.

    Blurry figures standing above him, distorted voices.

    ¡°He¡¯s still conscious ¡ª¡±

    ¡°Ohmygosh ¡ª¡±

    ¡°How could you? What are you doing to him ¡ª¡±

    ¡°Oh my gosh, guys, I think he broke my arm ¡ª¡±

    ¡°How dare you? I''m going to show you, I''m gonna ¡ª¡±

    ¡°Hold him down. Get him drunk.¡±

    ¡ª ¨C ¡ª

    Tyler shot awake with a full-body jerk.

    Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

    He trembled as he heaved for air on the cool cave floor, the motion aggravating the dark-red scabs that lined his chest in two separate areas. The flesh of his left calf was mangled by the duneclaw¡¯s pincer, and its sharp chitin had cut deep into the skin of his right foot as he¡¯d delivered his final blows. Every joint and ligament in his body felt like it was on the verge of snapping, and a cacophony of bruises dotted his skin.

    What just happened? How the fuck was that all real?

    Even after awakening from the dream, some part of him felt like he was still in a nightmare.

    He could have died a thousand times back there. He¡¯d be dead if he hadn¡¯t had the Core of Protection, or if he¡¯d been a second slower to block, or even if his throw had just been a little off.

    From the Storm to the dragon to the island, and even Savadiere himself. It was just a mess of terror and overwhelm and his primal instinct for self-preservation. He hadn¡¯t caught a fucking break since those first purple sparks.

    He made a sound, and it came out as half-laugh half-sob.

    That was absolutely fucking terrifying.

    Even during the accident, his own mortality had never felt so goddamn fragile.

    And now he was stuck on the floor, unable to move a muscle without feeling like his entire body was tearing itself apart. The energy within him was placid now, brimming with potential but without any spark to light it into action.

    ¡°Ugh.¡±

    For a moment, he just lay there in silence.

    He could hear chittering outside ¡ª some cousins of the monster that had attacked him, maybe. He could hear the tip-tapping of their chitinous legs against the ground, the constant scraping of their claws against anything and everything that surrounded them. Specifically, at least one of them was scraping against the log at the door. Over and over and over again.

    All he could do was hope that it wasn¡¯t strong enough to get through.

    Tyler groaned.

    The stone was cold. Not nearly as bad as the chill of his apartment, but enough to make his joints feel like they¡¯d been bound and wrapped in plaster. Or maybe that was just the metric ton of injuries that plagued him, combined with the hard, unforgiving surface he¡¯d fallen asleep on.

    He was reminded of the endless days he¡¯d spent in his dinky little bed, longing to get up, to do anything, but being held down in a vice grip by the poisonous cocktail of pain and hopelessness that had plagued him since the crash. How many times had he almost hoped for something to force him out into the world, just to prove to himself that he still had that undying spark that he¡¯d carried with him for the first seventeen years of his life?

    And finally, something had. He¡¯d nearly died about a gazillion times. He was weak, injured, and stuck on the floor in a dark spooky cave.

    But he¡¯d done it. And as the sweet tingle of survival spread through him once more, he found a smile creeping onto his face.

    ¡°God, I¡¯m alive!¡±

    In some way, the pain had never felt so good. It represented his struggle, his triumph over both himself and the monstrous thing that had been out to get him. It meant that he was still living. Whatever else was going on, he knew for a fact you couldn¡¯t feel nearly so much agony if you were dead.

    And his mind was filled with more of those weird messages.

    Congratulations! You have Awakened a Novice Resonance with the Aspect of Resilience.

    The Aspect of Resilience. He didn''t know what the fuck that meant, but he''d felt something change within him as the fight with the duneclaw had gone on, something that fittingly Resonated with his actions. And it was a Novice ¡ª or maybe he was the Novice that the Resonance belonged to?

    Whatever the case, there was a faint buzzing going on in his soul, something deep and rich that he couldn''t quite understand. Just sensing it was enough to get him excited, despite his rather helpless situation. This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

    You have consumed a Storm-Touched treasure. Curse Class: Primordial Infinity.

    And all of this was a consequence of the banana. The Curse of Primordial Infinity.

    Those Cursed with Primordial Infinity are bound in paradox, just as the Primordials of old. Their souls are limitlessly large, infinite in potential, and yet forever bound to the confines of the body. One¡¯s meridians remain eternally locked, their mana unable to affect the outside world despite its unending volume.

    The first part of the description felt very true. The thing within him that he assumed was his pool of mana felt immeasurably large, so vast that he couldn''t quite catch the edges of it ¡ª just the churning, rippling waves of green that appeared on its surface. It was ginormous, and yet also contained entirely within him. Within his soul, he thought.

    But he didn''t quite understand the other side of the Curse. It felt like it was saying he''d never be able to use his mana, but he''d certainly felt an effect during the fight. Even now he could feel it seeping into his mangled limbs, passively helping just a tiny bit with the myriad of injuries clinging to him.

    And Tyler certainly didn¡¯t feel like the second part applied to him.

    For most, this Curse represents a fate of eternal torment, of boundless potential but the inability to wield it. The majority of those who are cursed with Primordial Infinity die powerless and pitiful, full of anger and regret.

    A fate of eternal torment sounded horrific, but that wasn¡¯t quite where he was at, was he? Sure, he felt a bit powerless, but that had been his whole life since the crash. But now he had magic ¡ª even if it was constrained ¡ª and if anything, he felt the least regret that he had in years. In fact¡­

    He realized that whole description sounded a lot more like himself before this whole thing.

    Even before this, he had been cursed, in a sense. Cursed by his inflammation, by those fuckers that had taken his future in exchange for their own convenience. He had been powerless. He had been pitiful. And he¡¯d definitely been full of anger and regret.

    He refused to let that happen to him again. At least this Curse came with an upside.

    And even as he tried to fully comprehend the rest of it ¡ª even as he really took the time to process his frankly horrid state ¡ª his eyes couldn¡¯t stop darting to the end. To the last line of the description.

    But for a select few¡­ they may rise far beyond the realm of imagination.

    Even after reading it for the dozenth time, his body shivered with the words.

    Savadiere had told him that this Curse would give him the potential to rival him ¡ª no, to surpass beings like him. He couldn¡¯t even comprehend how, but just the knowledge that there was a path forwards gave him hope.

    Tyler took a deep breath, and started taking stock of the situation.

    The flames on that one table had reduced it to embers, but somehow the coals still glowed ¡ª just enough to see. Had he really only been out for such little time? He was absolutely ravenous.

    Now that he¡¯d finished Awakening, the energy within him had gone placid. No spikes of power shot through his limbs, and in his natural state he didn¡¯t even know if he could stand. His entire body radiated pain, worse than anything he¡¯d felt since the night of the crash itself.

    He dove into what he thought was his soul, feeling the mighty pool of power sitting still in this little space by his abdomen. There were lines of sorts streaking through him, connecting that spiritual space with his physical body.

    They were almost like blood vessels ¡ª just almost empty, devoid of their version of blood.

    ¡°Was that how the energy affected me?¡± Tyler wondered.

    He tried to get a feel for his mana. He could just barely slosh it around if he really put his mind to it.

    But even as he tried sloshing it through his channels as best as he could, he felt at most a tiny twinge of energy. He tried once, twice, thrice, but each time the mana just seemed to dissipate back into his core. The pain was making it difficult to concentrate, a constant distraction that pounded his mind no matter how much he tried to ignore it.

    No, he needed a better way.

    What had Savadiere said?

    This is the cave of my ancestral peoples. If you survive, you may learn a great deal by examining their teachings

    His eyes drifted to the jagged carvings above him. At first he''d assumed that they were just cave paintings, art with no practical purpose.

    But now that he looked closer, these depicted humanoid forms ¡ª figures with long horns like Savadiere ¡ª with their arms outstretched, and their feet planted underneath them. And within them was a series of looping lines, all connected to a deep, burrowed dot in the center of their being.

    Their soul, he thought.

    The Ancestors¡¯ Carvings, depicting the Art of the Sandstorm.

    The figures were arranged in an inverted pyramid, with dozens of carvings at the top narrowing down to just one at the bottom.

    All the ones at the top were so complex that he could hardly understand them, and they involved lines of flowing motion stretching out of their figures¡¯ palms and feet.

    The one on the bottom had that too ¡ª a pattern of circulation that seemed to draw from outside the soul before dispersing the energy in a certain way around one¡¯s core. Tyler didn¡¯t even have to try it to realize he couldn¡¯t do that one.

    His channels simply lacked those points that connected the inner soul with the outer world. Meridians, he assumed. All his channels did was feed back inwards, passing through his body before returning to his Core. Most of these, in fact, were out of his reach.

    But on the second row from the bottom, the right carving¡­

    He paid attention to the details in the art, lines of deeper-carved mana swooping through channels in a way that somehow portrayed motion in a static frame. It went this way and then that, looping through the arms and legs into the head and back down through the spinal cord. It hit their horns too, but Tyler simply hoped that he didn''t need horns to do this technique.

    He held his breath and started swaying his mana, slowly coaxing it through his channels, feeling the tingling as it rushed against his muscles and bones.

    This felt right, he realized. Like the way that he''d felt when he''d unconsciously enhanced himself during the fight.

    It traveled through his fingers, up his shoulders and into his head. His soul was instinctually moving with it now that the motion was beginning to flow.

    One loop, then another, then another.

    He struggled to keep the cycles going through the haze of pain, but after a dozen tries he succeeded, and he felt that strength settle within him ¡ª that soothing power that took the edge off of his endless aches.

    Tyler opened his eyes, gasping. ¡°Holy shit.¡±

    His body felt powerful, like how it had felt before the car crash ¡ª back when he''d been lifting weights every day and running every night. Now that he wasn¡¯t panicking, he could learn to control it.

    He set his hands beside him, slowly pushing himself to a sitting position. He began to move¡­

    And then his concentration broke.

    He slumped back to the ground, but forced himself back into the task. The duneclaw outside redoubled its efforts to scrape through the log, sending adrenaline spiking back through him. He used the fear and dove deeper into his soul.

    The cycle slowly built back up, the strength flowing through him once more, and then he pushed again.

    Tyler grunted with the effort, but he managed to sit up. This was good. He grinned, feeling the mastery of his body as he gently slid himself against the wall. He faltered a half dozen times, but by the end of it he could at least prop himself up.

    Now was the real test, though.

    He dove back into himself, guiding his mana through the pattern with the desperation of a drowning man clinging to safety. This was his one hope ¡ª his one chance at survival. He needed to take advantage of it.

    The energy flooded through him, and he gripped the rough cave wall, steadying himself as he slowly set his good foot on the ground. Yes. Yes. Yes!

    Tyler straightened into a standing position, leg trembling from the effort as his muscles screamed at him with exertion. He whooped, the exhilaration coursing through him in a giant wave.

    ¡°I did it!¡±

    And then he let out a breath as his concentration snapped. His body tumbled back into a heap onto the floor, but he whooped all the same.

    He''d done it. He''d actually done it.

    He was wounded, he was terrified, and he didn¡¯t have a clue how he was going to survive to see the end of the week.

    But he¡¯d survived the night.

    And as he gasped on the floor of the cave, bathed in the faint glow of dragonfire embers, he couldn¡¯t help but laugh. It was a deep, breathy thing that came from his stomach, and with each second the sounds grew, until his howls reverberated across the cave walls and cut deep into the night.

    He¡¯d proven that he could go up against the terrors of this new world. The Dimensional Storm had thrown its all at him, and he¡¯d weathered it. The same as how he¡¯d weathered the pain, the same as how he would weather everything the goddamn world threw at him.

 4: Trapped

    The sun must have risen sometime, between when Tyler had woken up and when he¡¯d finally managed to stand. He could hear the distant squawking of seagulls, and a few thin beams of light peeked through the blocked entrance to mix with the faint illumination of the green embers across the room.

    It was an oddly peaceful scene, all things considered. He¡¯d lived to see a new day, and just as powerful as the actual mana in his soul was the hope that it brought with it. The high of survival and progress soothed his racing mind, making even this creepy cave filled with fruits and broken furniture feel much less ominous.

    Of course, the ambiance was ruined by the insectoid corpse sitting barely five feet away from him. It looked much the same as it had when it was alive ¡ª smooth, sand-colored and threatening ¡ª but the noticeably crushed chitin helped reassure him that it was just as dead as he¡¯d left it.

    He¡¯d expected it to smell putrid, but even after a night of sitting out, it didn¡¯t have any noticeably strong scent. Though as he looked down at the dried bug fluids covering his entire lower half, he thought maybe his nose had just adjusted.

    He remembered what that Analysis message had told him ¡ª the smell of these dead insects caused their siblings to swarm. This one was apparently too young to have fully developed that ability, but that one duneclaw at his doorstep had still been fairly insistent. He wondered how long the thing had been trying to get in.

    Tyler laughed. ¡°Hah, look at you losers. You got stopped by a dead tree.¡±

    He paused. Maybe taunting the swarm of murderous aliens wasn¡¯t the best idea.

    Then again, maybe he deserved a bit of semi-delirious ranting. For the first time in years, he felt like he had a clear path forwards.

    Yeah, his body was in a horrid state. He¡¯d sustained a couple of bad cuts and scrapes in his fight with the duneclaw, and he was stranded in a dark cave on a random island that he knew nothing about, with no way to contact anyone nor any possessions besides the pajamas that he¡¯d been in on the night of the Storm.

    But he at least had a small supply of food that looked like the Earth fruits he was used to, and there were teachings on the walls ¡ª a path to master this strange new power he¡¯d Awakened within himself.

    Even as he struggled to sit against the wall once more, he realized that the scabs must have formed fairly quickly over all of his cuts from the previous day.

    Maybe a tad faster than they were supposed to, he thought. He could feel the mana from his core suffusing his muscles like a fine mist, even without his conscious circulation. It was far subtler than the adrenaline-inducing power rush that he¡¯d discovered from the cave carving, but it seemed to be constant. So long as he had the mana inside of him, he assumed it would provide some sort of benefit.

    This doesn¡¯t feel like a curse, he thought once again.

    The text had made it sound like he would never be able to do magic, but wasn¡¯t all of this magic? He could enhance his strength, heal faster, and even take hits better, if the state of his injured leg and chest was anything to go by. The duneclaw¡¯s front pincer was clearly weaker than its tail leg, and this one¡¯s limb had already been injured beforehand, but given his fragile state he was still astounded that he¡¯d even been able to remain standing after that. With the enhancement running through him, he¡¯d even been able to stand.

    Was it because of the Aspect?

    He didn¡¯t know anything about this world, but Resilience did feel like something that would act mostly on his body anyways. If Savadiere¡¯s title was anything to go by, the man had an Aspect of Reflection, or something similar. He couldn¡¯t imagine that Reflection would have nearly as many bodily effects as he was currently experiencing.

    At the same time, Tyler didn¡¯t need any System Boon to tell him that the effects that Reflection did have must have more than made up for it.

    He remembered that reality-bending magic, the instant reversal of momentum as a man just a bit taller than Tyler himself felled a beast the size of a house in the span of a nanosecond.

    Even now, as his own soul was brimming with magical power, he couldn¡¯t comprehend how that had been real. It was as if for just a moment, the world itself had bowed to Savadiere¡¯s will.

    Absolute Counter.

    If he remembered one thing for the rest of his life, it would be that moment. That was the power to change fate, to shrug off the weight of the world and take hold of your own destiny. He wanted it more than he¡¯d ever wanted¡­ anything, maybe.

    But he suspected he would never get it.

    One¡¯s meridians remain eternally locked, their mana unable to affect the outside world despite its unending volume.

    If he went by his current assumption, none of the things that Savadiere had done would be possible for him. If all he could do was affect his own body, then that left him with very little, all things considered.

    But he still had a path to that level of power. Past that level of power.

    He didn¡¯t understand how. How could these scrawny little emaciated limbs ever survive a ginormous claw hitting with the speed and weight of a truck speeding down the freeway? How could they ever pound a beast bigger than a half-dozen elephants into the ground, then levitate a giant magic cauldron and ¡ª

    He paused. A giant magic cauldron. Could he still use magic items?

    The Core of Protection seemed to have worked despite the limitation, and that was clearly an external effect. Now that he thought about it¡­

    He turned towards the gray piece of crystal that had been sitting there on the cave floor this entire time.

    He concentrated on the artifact, squinting as he fumbled around for that mental ¡®switch¡¯ that he¡¯d felt in that moment where the world had slowed down. It took him a couple of moments, but eventually:

    System Boon Engaged: Analysis

    The Core of Protection

    The Core of Protection was supposed to be a fully-autonomous artifact. When undamaged, this defensive treasure acted as an ever-shifting suit of crystalline armor, capable of reacting independently to defend its master from any number of attacks.

    By the time Savadiere, Master of Light had found it, the winds of time had greatly reduced its capabilities. Yet, it was still powerful enough to withstand the strikes of a thousand-year-old emerald dragon.

    However, in withstanding that attack, the Core of Protection was broken even further. It was reduced to a ghost of its most essential function ¡ª when fully charged, it may muster enough mana to repel a strike that may be deadly to a Novice.

    The Core of Protection has been blood-bonded to you through your Awakening. As an extension of your soul, it may slowly siphon your mana in order to charge itself.

    The Core of Protection will be fully charged in three days.

    Analysis. Nice.

    It looked like this thing was a part of his soul, in a weird way. Had Savadiere given it to him on purpose, knowing what the Curse was? Or had it just been a lucky break?Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

    He could vaguely sense it if he delved deep into that mindset he used when visualizing his soul. It was a different feeling from the immense pressure from Savadiere he¡¯d sensed the moment he¡¯d begun Awakening, and a different feeling from the burgeoning sense of something permeating his surroundings that he still hadn¡¯t quite figured out yet.

    Whatever the case, it looked like it would be ready to help him again in three days. And as he kept his mental palm on his Analysis, he turned to the rest of the cave, firing it off on everything he could see.

    Most objects just returned mundane descriptions ¡ª like his defense stick, which simply read Broken Table Leg. The magic banana seeds and the remains of Savadiere¡¯s magical equipment also had oddly short descriptions, which contrasted with the cave carving depicting the technique he¡¯d learned.

    The Flowing Sands

    The Flowing Sands is the foundational body enhancement technique for the Art of the Sandstorm, chosen cultivation path of the Reaman Nomads. Differing only slightly from the Reaman body¡¯s natural enhancement patterns, the Flowing Sands emphasizes dexterity and steady strength when practiced with the Reaman peoples¡¯ natural Aspects. With the Aspect of Resilience, the Flowing Sands slightly boosts the body¡¯s durability as well, but the boost to dexterity is not as prominent as it would be with the Aspects of Sand or Bone.

    It seemed like the more he got to know the things themselves, the more the Analysis could tell him.

    And seeing that the technique boosted his durability made his eyes light up. Then again, it wasn¡¯t like he needed another excuse to practice ¡ª he was pretty sure the only way he¡¯d manage any sort of movement was with this technique.

    Taking a deep breath, he dove back into that mental space, coaxing his mana back into those loops and swirls. After a couple of fumbling tries, he got it to stick again.

    With a groan, he forced himself to his feet.

    Now was the hard part.

    Step. Step. Step.

    Falter.

    He hissed as his legs gave out underneath him. His knees impacted the ground hard, and he cursed as the new pain shot through him.

    ¡°God dammit.¡±

    It took another two tries before he finally made it all the way over to the entrance of the cave.

    He was a little out of breath and his legs were shaky, but he¡¯d made it.

    Now was the tough part. The duneclaw that had been scraping its claws against it had finally left, and he had no idea when another would come to take its place.

    With a deep breath, he restarted the technique. It coursed through him, strength blooming once more in every fiber of his body. With all that strength, he gathered himself against the log and pushed.

    Nothing.

    Okay. What if he pulled?

    Nothing.

    Maybe he was just setting himself against the log wrong. What if he tried a different stance?

    Nothing.

    What about using a stick to wedge in the gap? Or trying to worm things under the log so he could then lever it out? Or clawing away at the wood itself?

    As a last resort, he tried to tackle the log, getting to a hobbling run and then slamming against it as fiercely as he could.

    Nothing.

    ¡°Fuck!¡± he shouted, panting against the heavy wood as pain erupted from his shoulder. ¡°Really?¡±

    He couldn¡¯t get out. He was trapped in here.

    And then even if he got out of here, he was trapped on an island full of monsters. Monsters so deadly that even their children could decapitate him if he made a single slip-up. And then even if he got out of that, the only thing as far as the eye could see was a vast glitchy emptiness that served to remind him of just how alone he really was.

    Tyler slowly slid down against the wall, teeth gritted as the rough stone slightly scraped his back. He slapped a palm against his forehead over and over, as if throttling his brain might somehow make him realize that there was an easy solution to this all along.

    ¡°Why? Why does everything always have to get fucking worse? Why why whywhywhy¡­¡±

    He¡¯d done what he was supposed to do. He¡¯d survived the Curse, survived the duneclaw, learned magic, and even gotten a better handle of that Analysis System Boon. It was absurd, expecting the world to be fair when he¡¯d just gotten yanked from certain death at the jaws of a dragon to fighting an overgrown bug-creature, but he¡¯d hoped. After all those years, he¡¯d hoped just one more time that things would work out.

    He screamed his lungs out for a solid ten seconds, so loud that the echoes reverberated against his chest long after he was done. The sound seemed to attract some duneclaws back to the log, and once again a chorus of scrapes began in the background.

    But as he sat there, slumped with his head against the wall, the frustration seemed to slowly seep out of him. It left with the air in his lungs, the tension in his shoulders, leaving him deflated like an old balloon against the coarse rock.

    ¡°Alright. I¡¯m stuck in this stupid cave. I just hurt myself more in a last-ditch effort to get out. My inflammation is going even crazier than normal, and the only things that I have to help me are a bunch of fruit, broken furniture, and esoteric cave carvings. What can I do with all that?¡±

    Tyler thought for a moment, letting his breaths come slower and fuller. Most of the things plaguing him were outside of his control, but he supposed that he was used to it by now. He¡¯d endure, just as he¡¯d always done. And now, what could he do?

    ¡°Well, I¡¯m hungry as shit.¡±

    That was a start.

    Diving back into his soul, he thrummed the Flowing Sands back into motion and began moving himself. He didn¡¯t bother with walking ¡ª that took a level of concentration and effort that he didn¡¯t think he had right now ¡ª but he could inch himself over bit by bit.

    It took a while, but he managed to gradually shuffle over to the fruit sacks.

    He peeled a banana ¡ª a regular one, according to the Analysis ¡ª and downed the finger-sized thing in a single bite.

    The fruit tasted very different compared to a supermarket banana, but he kind of liked it. He spat the seeds over to the space where Savadiere had placed the ones from the larger magic banana, realizing with a grimace that the area had been splattered with a bit of his blood.

    But he supposed if he covered it with enough seeds, nobody would be able to know.

    Over the next half hour, he worked his way through a sizable amount of banana, passionfruit, and ackee ¡ª a weird, almost nut-like fruit that opened to reveal a trio of giant black seeds. It tasted kind of savory, but he didn¡¯t hate it. It was hard to hate any sort of food when you were this hungry.

    By the fifth fruit, Tyler was starting to feel better.

    He¡¯d thought about his situation as he gorged himself. He needed to open the door, and he needed to be able to survive after that log was dislodged.

    Because getting access to the outside world was only half the battle ¡ª if he got caught by any threat with his current mastery of the skill, it was only a coin flip keeping him from being crushed under a monster¡¯s claw.

    After all, he¡¯d read over that Analysis of the duneclaw he¡¯d fought again. That had just been a juvenile. He shuddered at the thought of just how large those things could get when fully grown.

    Without the Flowing Sands, he was practically immobile ¡ª he couldn¡¯t even open the passionfruit without the magic enhancement, much less open coconuts or try and fashion any weapons. His injured leg was too much of a liability to regularly walk on, and the inflammation ravaging him ensured that even with the passive healing he was getting, the injury would last for far longer than it should.

    So, he was in a bit of a predicament. After his breakfast, he guessed that he had maybe two or three weeks¡¯ worth of food. Maybe more than that of water ¡ª the sacks of coconuts far outweighed all the rest of the fruit combined ¡ª but only if he could access it. And right now, he was doubtful if he could. It was the same problem that seemed to plague his immediate chances of survival ¡ª the enhancement just wasn¡¯t strong enough.

    Before he died of dehydration, he needed to get strong enough to open a coconut, and to do so he needed to get a better hold of the Flowing Sands.

    He Analyzed the Flowing Sands carving again, and this time he tried to mentally push.

    C¡¯mon, give me more. I can feel there¡¯s more there.

    The Flowing Sands

    All Reaman children who wish to one day become Warriors must master the Flowing Sands by the age of 10. It is a prerequisite for all higher techniques in the Ancestors¡¯ Carvings, and it is drilled amongst the young until they can maintain the technique until their mana pool runs dry.

    A common schedule of training includes a session of practice before all four traditional meals, leaving enough room in between each session for the mana pool to replenish. As the children grow older and their capacity develops, they may dedicate a time every night before bed to hone the skill at length¡­

    ¡°Wow,¡± he muttered.

    On the plus side, he was getting a hang of this Analysis thing. It looked like for this subject at least it would just keep spewing info the more he pushed, and even if most of the lore didn¡¯t mean anything to him, he could extract tidbits of useful stuff here and there.

    On the minus side, he was currently getting beat by a bunch of alien fifth graders.

    Still, he couldn¡¯t feel too bad about himself. The text seemed to imply that the average child practicing this technique could only do it a couple times a day at first. Meanwhile, if he looked at his mana pool¡­

    He chuckled. He¡¯d been attempting to use it all morning, and there was hardly a dent.

    Tyler leaned back against the wall, closed his eyes, and dove back into his soul.

 5: Cave Training (1/2)

    For the next month, all he did was eat, sleep, and train.

    It was horribly painful.

    He had plenty of mana to fuel himself, but he couldn¡¯t even use it all before his soul gave out. It turned out that the soul got sore just like any muscle, and the resulting spiritual aching combined with the ever-present physical pain in his joints was a horrible combination for any kind of practice. There were times when he got so frustrated with the lack of cooperation from his mana that he threw his hands up in the air and wanted to punch something. But of course, without the Flowing Sands he was so feeble that he could hardly even stand up straight.

    The process of training was also mentally taxing, and even when his soul was relatively fresh, it took him longer than he would have liked just to muster up the willpower and energy to try again.

    The cave felt so claustrophobic despite its relative openness, especially because he was so weak that moving around it at all was difficult. In a sense, he was confined to this tiny little bubble of accessible space, trapped there until he could get good enough at this technique to let him move around consistently.

    The abundance of spiritual energy inside of him proved a sharp contrast to the nagging hunger and thirst that woke him in the night, and for the first couple of days no matter how much fruit he ate he still felt immensely dehydrated. The duneclaws would constantly wake him up with their horrendous screeches, and some nights all he could do was lay there and stare up at the dark ceiling, envisioning those glitchy cosmic wounds in the sky stretching over the world and consuming everything within.

    Those were also the times when the thoughts would come back.

    What are you even doing here?

    That was fucking stupid, asking to be Cursed. You should have just let yourself die instead of suffering through all this just to inevitably fail at the end.

    Who did you think you were, believing you were gonna make it out of this?

    He missed society. He missed people, even if for the years leading up to his abduction he¡¯d hardly had anyone he could really call a friend. Just some stranger to talk to would have been enough ¡ª someone to share the pain of being trapped in a dark cave with nothing to hear but the sounds of monsters outside his door.

    But every day when the tiny streams of sunlight began to peek through the cracks in the cave entrance and the caws of seagulls joined the chorus of duneclaw chitters in the background, he would get back up and try again.

    Every time he¡¯d falter, he¡¯d give himself a minute to collect himself before jumping back into it. He would eat and stretch, massage his muscles, and try to mimic those same soothing movements for his soul. Anything to stay sane ¡ª to keep going despite the overwhelming feeling of hopelessness.

    Again and again he¡¯d drill the technique, sometimes sitting still and sometimes while trying to move around the large cave. And at some point, he realized that he¡¯d begun making progress.

    Just like an actual muscle, his soul slowly adapted to the stress, strengthening itself and growing in endurance as he trained. And just like the slight boost the Resilience gave to his physical healing, he thought it might have been helping his soul to recover, too.

    The progress was slow at first, with each go at the Flowing Sands only lasting a couple of seconds at most, but it gradually improved until he could maintain it for a minute. Then two, then three. And beyond that, the total amount of time he could train in a day improved drastically, until he was actually beginning to make a dent into his deep mana stores.

    The first thing he needed to tackle was of course the coconuts. His initial Analysis of them had left him disappointed, but he¡¯d once again used that mental push on the System Boom to get it to spew out more info at him.

    It turned out that pushing for info about Earth objects yielded a lot of stuff, which he supposed made sense since he¡¯d been around these things for all his life. It was like the entirety of the internet straight copy-pasted into his brain, and while it took him quite a while just to read through it all, he eventually found the info he needed.

    When ripe, crushing force can be applied on the topmost point of the coconut¡¯s hull to weaken the fibers for easy peeling. The three points on the hard interior shell can be easily penetrated for access to the fruit¡¯s liquid.

    While under the Flowing Sands, he grabbed the heaviest chunk of rock he could lift ¡ª which admittedly wasn¡¯t all that heavy ¡ª and repeatedly slammed it against the fruits¡¯ hulls. Afterwards, he found that he could indeed do as the description said and tear the hull off with just his own enhanced strength. It hurt, but thirst had been a great motivator to push through the pain.

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    For the rest of the month, he would have a steady source of water.

    That success had sent a tidal wave of ideas streaming through his brain, and he¡¯d combed through the info for the Flowing Sands carving in the same fashion, acquiring some helpful tips that let him refine his training. While the carvings were two-dimensional in nature, his Analysis spoke of the techniques in higher spaces, which helped him navigate his mana through his incredibly complex soul. That had been a revelation in and of itself ¡ª that his soul was somewhat overlapping with his body, yet still separate in a way that he couldn¡¯t quite understand yet.

    Tyler was hoping that more practice might help with that ¡ª while the Analysis of the magic alien stuff still yielded far less info than the coconuts, he found that as he grew better with the technique the info increased accordingly.

    And he found himself eagerly awaiting every new bit of info he was able to squeeze out of those carvings. It went beyond a desire to improve his magical prowess, he realized. He pored over all the little factoids, the descriptions of their legends and culture that were so alien yet so oddly human. In the absence of actual people to talk to, he found a sort of companionship in the stories of the Reamans.

    He was walking along the same path that they were, in a sense. He was just an overgrown alien fifth grader, training extra hard and huddling closer to the wall every night as the duneclaws came by.

    And while the average alien fifth grader still seemed to be doing better than him skill-wise, he was quickly catching up due to the sheer amount of time that he could practice. It took hours before his mana pool was completely tapped, and his regeneration was so fast that he could drain and refill it twice in a day.

    The practice was almost entrancing, and he realized that this was probably what some people meant when they said they hit the flow state. It was this deep immersion that seemed to transport him into a different state of being ¡ª it was like time was flying by while at the same time standing perfectly still.

    Every time that he trained, he felt his soul grow, resonating further with the Aspect of Resilience. His mana grew more solid, more turbulent, and with that growth the enhancement surged through him with greater and greater power.

    But it wasn¡¯t just then, he began to realize. Like a muscle, his soul would only grow when it was being exercised. But even as he just went around, doing the necessary chores for his survival, he felt Resilience accumulate within himself. It was like magical proteins floating around his soul, waiting for an opportunity to strengthen it.

    That was also what gave him insight about the technique at the very bottom of the spiritual inverted pyramid. When he accumulated Resilience in his soul, it would naturally weave itself throughout his spirit as he worked it. However, the process seemed inefficient, and the integration itself seemed¡­ incomplete.

    Once he¡¯d realized that, his Analysis had given him a proper description of the bottom-most technique. It was the central cultivation technique of the Art of the Sandstorm ¡ª which he thought meant it was used to properly weave an Aspect into one¡¯s soul. The outer-facing part was just to get the Aspect from elsewhere, he thought. The important part was what happened inside the soul.

    He tried just the inner part of it, and after a couple hundred failed attempts, he finally got a pattern that seemed to work for him. It distributed the Resilience fairly evenly throughout his soul, and it came with a pleasant tingly sensation whenever he used it.

    After a month of doing it, his soul was feeling much stronger. His mana felt just a bit more substantive, and his enhancement seemed to pack more oomph to it ¡ª though how much of that came from his own healing rather than the strengthening of the technique he couldn¡¯t tell.

    Near the end of the month, he realized that the accumulation of Resilience in his soul was reaching a soft bottleneck. It wasn¡¯t quite like a barrier preventing him from integrating more Resonance, but more of a natural limit to the current matter of his soul, like water saturated with salt.

    His Analysis identified this as a Saturation Point, which was also depicted in one of the auxiliary carvings in the pyramid. It looked like he¡¯d need to gather a large buildup of Resilience and then cultivate it all at once to break through.

    Of course, he was once again bumping into another drawback from his Curse. As he grew more in tune with his own spirit, he began to realize that the stuff that he felt all around him was Resilience ¡ª he found it in the never-extinguished dragonfire, the magical apparatuses he¡¯d found within the broken furniture, and even the cool stone beneath his feet. If he could cultivate all that Resonance, he suspected he wouldn¡¯t need to generate his own Resilience through his actions.

    At the same time, he realized how those who didn¡¯t have such a bodily Aspect would never cultivate more than bare scraps. It was a bit throttling, to see just how lucky he¡¯d gotten with the Aspect he¡¯d Awakened. If he¡¯d gotten Sand, or Reflection like Savadiere had, or something even less compatible with a living human body like Fire or Death¡­

    That cruel fate hinted at by his Analysis made far more sense now. He had been a roll of the dice away from dying powerless and pitiful. Then again, he supposed that had been the case regardless.

    And he was extremely grateful that he¡¯d made it, despite the restrictions. After all, he generated more Resonance in a single training session than the passive Resilience in his entire cave.

    But he still needed to properly recover from his training sessions, and as great as his enormous mana pool was, he was pretty sure actual nutrients were still necessary for his body to patch itself up.

    So at the beginning of the month, he''d taken a risk and eaten some of the flesh from the duneclaw he killed.

 5: Cave Training (2/2)

    At first he''d been apprehensive to even touch the meat again ¡ª not knowing if it was hiding any sorts of alien parasites or magical substances that his feeble human body simply couldn''t handle.

    However, he¡¯d realized that he could potentially reignite the embers that were still sitting there from the table.

    With a quick Analysis, he''d been pleasantly surprised.

    Dragonfire

    The flames of the Emerald Dragons are imbued with their unyielding will and immeasurable potential for growth. This instance is but a pale shadow, but it is still formidable compared to its mundane counterpart.

    It reignited as soon as he fed it some kindling, and the flame was truly magical ¡ª bright, pleasant green, and without a hint of smoke.

    He''d been worried about suffocating himself to death if he left a fire going, but he figured that if the fumes were enough to kill him, they probably would have done so when the table had first burnt down. And if anything, the fumes that the flame released felt like that of a pleasant scented candle. It smelled like encouragement and a promise of better times ¡ª not at all what he¡¯d expect from the attack of a raging dragon.

    Of course, the fire had encouraged him to cook, and so as his stomach grumbled for something more than fruit, he''d cautiously torn off a piece of duneclaw flesh and made a skewer to put over the flame.

    His Analysis had expanded its description after that, and it hinted that the meat should have been safe to eat. He started with very small amounts ¡ª just a nibble, then a bite, and then a finger-sized portion. It tasted bitter and astringent, but it was food.

    As he felt no consequences, he began to consume more and more. He had to be careful to preserve his limited stockpile of furniture and wood, but that proved fine as the embers seemed nearly impossible to extinguish and luminescent enough to let him see through his dark-adapted eyes. He only really fed the fire to cook, and he tried to cook the meat in the biggest batches he could without giving himself heatstroke ¡ª anything more raised the temperature of the poorly-ventilated cave far too quickly. But once the meat was cooked, he could expect it to last.

    The duneclaw''s acidic and quick-drying blood seemed to have preserved the meat in some way, and he remembered from his Analysis that the Reamans could stockpile duneclaw meat for years in their cellars without it going bad.

    He was sure that it wouldn''t last quite that long, but he would trust his nose and taste buds for now. With the meat, he could also begin training his physical body.

    On the opposite side of the cave wall from the carvings detailing the Reamans¡¯ spiritual techniques, there was another set of carvings showing forms of their people, practicing something akin to a martial art.

    He realized that some of the physical stances were meant to be paired with the spiritual stances, and as he pondered them, he turned to his Analysis for more information.

    Rather than the carvings forming an inverted pyramid, it was a regular pyramid. Most techniques were at the base, with only one at the top: a depiction of a horned man with a thousand arms and legs swirling around him. He didn''t understand if he was supposed to grow more limbs or if that was symbolic, but at least the bottom exercises felt more reasonable.

    His Analysis identified them as bone-strengthening exercises, and they involved repeatedly slamming your limbs into hard surfaces to build density and resilience within them.

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    Of course, his own limbs were fairly fragile, but with the enhancement running through him, he managed to try it out a couple of times. It hurt, of course, but everything hurt these days. His limbs were actually doing pretty well despite the pain ¡ª even his injured leg was feeling mostly normal again.

    When he began doing the exercises, he soon discovered that with each blow, an abnormal amount of Resilience would pool in his soul.

    It made sense, once he thought about it. His actions throughout the entire day were Resonating with Resilience, but it was these exercises ¡ª the pain, the fortitude, the perseverance despite the inflammation ¡ª that really embodied it within him. Perhaps his condition was actually benefiting him, for once. A greater harmony was being reached as he pushed his body to the very limit.

    The second layer of the pyramid was also a variety of exercises, but these seemed more like stances ¡ª martial arts forms for the physical half of The Art of the Sandstorm. He struggled a bit to walk through these, his newfound dexterity from the Flowing Sands the only thing keeping him from completely flubbing them. But by the end of the week, he''d at least gotten semi-comfortable with the basics.

    He would set out duneclaw-sized tables and chairs in a circle around his cave, and then he would train against them with his new weapons ¡ª the detached tail claw of the juvenile he¡¯d defeated, and a long, sturdy branch that he¡¯d sharpened against the cave walls into a makeshift spear. He practiced thrusting, cutting, and throwing against them a thousand different ways, feeling the twitch of his muscles become faster and faster as the habits gradually sank into his body.

    And then, once he thought he understood the theory behind it, he would refer to his Analysis of the duneclaws, adapting his imaginary battles with the way that the creatures instinctually fought.

    He listened to his body as he moved, feeling how when he struck a certain way his spear came down harder, or when he stepped with a slight twist, it allowed him to more easily transfer his motion into his next move. The Aspect of Resilience seemed to boost his learning, too, and he found that his muscle memory and instinctive reflexes adapted faster than he¡¯d ever hoped they could.

    He practiced until he could slash an imaginary duneclaw between the eyes while jumping backwards to evade another, and drilled his rock throwing until he could consistently hit his targets from thirty feet away. His legs grew nimbler over the scattered branches and pebbles he used to simulate the outside ground, and his calloused skin rarely broke anymore no matter how much he abused his feet.

    Every evening he would sit around the pile of embers soaked in sweat, and with at least a couple of new bumps and bruises to show for his mistakes. His inflammation would come back with a vengeance the moment his sore limbs cooled down from the exercise, and he knew that even despite the constant training his forms were barely up to par with what was expected from a Reaman fifth grader.

    Still, for just a month¡¯s worth of effort, he couldn¡¯t have imagined a better result.

    Now, he just had to see if all the hardship was worth it.

    Tyler finished off his last piece of duneclaw, washing it down with a sip of coconut water and the flesh of a wrinkled passionfruit. That was the last of his food. Now, he had no more excuses.

    He walked over to the entrance of the cave, the Flowing Sands singing steadily within his veins. His limbs felt good. Solid, and less inflamed despite his nightly date with a bed of hard twigs and leaves. He clenched his fists, and they felt more powerful than they had in years.

    It was now or never.

    Drumming up the Flowing Sands to a higher speed, he swirled his entire core, letting the mana become a mini-vortex inside of him as it suffused his body with power. He set his feet, placing his hands against the log at an angle that should maximize his leverage.

    He counted himself down, heart hammering in his chest.

    Three. Two. One.

    Scraaaape.

    Slowly, the thin beams of moonlight began to widen as they hit his face. A sky of brilliant stars enveloped his vision, and fresh, salty air flooded his lungs with a crispness that he hadn¡¯t tasted in weeks.

    He furiously grinned, straining his arms and legs as he heaved for one final push.

    Whump.

    The log fell over with an unceremonious thud.

    Immediately, he could hear chittering in the distance.

    Tyler took a deep breath, retrieving the weapons he had placed next to the cave entrance. He was free. He was finally free.

    Now, it was time to hunt.

 6: The Hunt

    Tyler had learned a lot of things from his last fight with a duneclaw.

    His projectiles were very effective against them, but his throwing arm hadn¡¯t been great. His joints still bothered him incessantly, and though he was heavier and theoretically stronger, getting up close had almost spelled out his doom when the thing had surprised him with a lunge. And his improvised weapon ¡ª which he¡¯d hoped would provide him with enough reach to lessen the monster¡¯s greatest advantage ¡ª had snapped the instant it had come in contact with the thing¡¯s tail claw.

    In short, he had been woefully inadequate.

    He¡¯d almost died against a single juvenile, so he shuddered to think of what would happen if he¡¯d instead encountered a fully-grown specimen ¡ª or God forbid one of their swarms.

    His footsteps quietly navigated the pieces of mangled, half-eaten fruit littered atop the underbrush as he stalked forwards, spear in one hand and throwing rock in the other. More rocks were in his pockets, and his duneclaw knife was wedged into his dirt-stained waistband.

    He¡¯d specifically chosen this space in the foliage so the cave was on one side of him, and the beach on the other. He had two directions of escape, and the area was littered with rocks that he could use as weapons. No matter what happened, he could always regroup and find a way out.

    But his heart hammered despite his preparations, images of the juvenile duneclaw lunging at his throat arising from the back of his mind.

    This was the first taste of freedom he¡¯d had since the day he¡¯d come here, but he couldn¡¯t even enjoy the fresh air.

    The cosmic ocean seemed to envelop even more of the horizon in the nighttime, and rippling cracks of shifting color throbbed in the sky like scars upon the world itself. He was forced to squint as his eyes slowly adjusted to the light of the full moon, and as a sea of chitters slowly began to consume the island, he found himself flinching at every swaying branch and falling leaf. Their claw-marks were on everything, from the tree trunks to the leaves to even the fucking stones littered around the beach. He gazed out into the multidimensional liquid, noticing the hazy forms of what looked like skyscrapers sunken underneath the black-and-violet substance. The quiet crash of the waves seemed to grow into a roar as his senses twisted themselves into high alert.

    As much as he¡¯d trained, there were some limitations that he simply couldn''t overcome. For one, learning any organized fighting style was a product of years, not weeks. Even with hours of practice every day and careful Analysis of the Reamans¡¯ teachings, he couldn¡¯t be sure if he was doing any of it right.

    And this fighting style was built for aliens. Aliens with a similar body shape to him for sure, but there were still fundamental differences in their biology that made it hard for him to fully adapt. His limbs just couldn''t handle the same twisting forces that the Reaman could, and if he hadn¡¯t had the Aspect of Resilience enforcing his body, he was sure there would have been more than a couple of times when he pounded his elbow or shin into the wall and broken a bone.

    His range of motion wasn''t quite as large, his skin weaker, and his feet lacked the small claws that the Reamans had which allowed them to better navigate rocky terrain.

    And perhaps most unfortunately, the Reamans had large twisting horns which sprouted from the side of their head and framed their face like the front of a helmet. These horns were crucial not just for headbutting attacks and protecting their head from blunt strikes, but also were a large part of the Reaman response to a duneclaw lunging for their neck.

    The Art of the Sandstorm taught that when faced with a strike to the head, one could simply tuck their chin in and turn to take it on the horns. With ones as large as Savadiere¡¯s, Tyler could see how that could turn a potentially deadly attack into a harmless scratch.

    He had never been more conscious of his own lack of facial protection.

    Nor of the Curse binding his soul to his body. He¡¯d pored over each and every magical tool that Savadiere had left in the cave during the weeks that he was trapped, and eventually he¡¯d begun to understand enough that his Analysis could give him a solid description of the things. They seemed mostly dedicated to alchemy and other practices that Tyler didn¡¯t understand, but despite their intended purposes some of them would have been so useful in combat. The burner appliance might have been a little unwieldy, but he¡¯d lug around the twenty-pound metal bowl all day if it meant being able to shoot out a rush of fire hot enough to melt some metals.

    He¡¯d tried everything he could, from cracking one open to see if there was any internal circuitry to rubbing his blood on them the same way Savadiere had done to bond Tyler with the Core of Protection. Nothing had worked.

    So now he was out in the wild, with nothing but the stupid improvised weapons he¡¯d fabricated from rocks and sticks.

    He counted one minute, two minutes, three minutes as he waited for a duneclaw to wander by, and it was only in this moment that he truly realized how many of them there were. Their chitters enveloped the entire island in a constant eerie buzz, so instinctually repulsive that it made his hairs stand on end. He hadn¡¯t done his exercises this morning in an effort to preserve his energy, but now he wished that he¡¯d rested another day before doing this. His body was still so stiff, not at all ready for a real fight.

    Tyler shivered. He felt so small outside of his little cave, like prey caught out in the open by a pack of hunters.

    A growing chitter and the sound of scuttling feet alerted him as to the location of his first pursuer. His Analysis predicted that it would scuttle towards him for a couple of steps and then stop, giving a low hiss as it tried to sense the exact location of the magic on his person. It hadn''t spotted him yet, perched as he was on top of a low branch of a half-rotted fruit tree, but his eyes honed onto it as it came out into the small clearing.

    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

    The duneclaw''s sight would be impaired in the night of earth, his Analysis had told him. On Korshaan, even the night looked more like a perpetual twilight under its two suns. As such, the creatures would be relying almost solely on their magic sense until an object got within striking distance. He would use that to his advantage.

    He felt the familiar ¡®click¡¯ of his Analysis activating as the world slowed.

    Mature Duneclaw

    This duneclaw is fully-grown and better able to resist the humidity of its surroundings compared to its juvenile counterparts. All three of its claws are strong enough to crush bone, but without greater illumination, it is relying mostly on its magic sense to hunt.

    His eyes skimmed over the mental text, but he was only half paying attention to the actual result of his Analysis. Some deep part of him screamed to run away and hide back in his cave, but he forcefully shoved the fear away. In this brief moment of slowed time, he thought through the distance and angle of his position compared to the duneclaw, the Flowing Sands blooming within him as he prepared his arm to throw.

    And so, a second after the world returned to normal, a fist-sized rock slammed into the duneclaw''s body. It gave a furious shriek as it turned to face him ¡ª it was tough enough to immediately move to retaliate, but the density and force of the rock had still punched a crack into its armor.

    Before it could do anything, he was on it, jabbing at its head and retracting his spear backwards before it could lash out with its tail. The blow only glanced off, but Tyler was ready for that possibility. He danced back, jamming the spear into the ground and hefting another rock.

    The duneclaw would be able to rush him in a blink, he knew, so he threw a kick out as the creature crashed through his weapon, pivoting and using all of his momentum to knock the thing off-course. A month ago he would have never dared, fearing that his bones wouldn¡¯t be able to hold up to the thing¡¯s hardened armor.

    But now, he had a month of Reaman bone-strengthening exercises behind him, and the Aspect of Resilience was very aptly named.

    The creature¡¯s spiked exoskeleton scraped against his shin, but then the strength of the Flowing Sands sent it flying to the side, crashing against a nearby tree trunk before it came to a stop on its back. Some part of Tyler¡¯s mind noted that the pain of the strike didn¡¯t even top the constant inflammation running through the limb.

    The thing screeched with such intensity that he had to fight not to cover his ears, but he gritted his teeth and stalked towards it as it struggled to right itself.

    While the duneclaw had been scrambling to recover, he¡¯d gone and retrieved a piece of stone.

    As a fighting style that evolved to combat chitinous creatures, the Art of the Sandstorm had almost no teachings revolving around spears. Most of its practitioners used hammers, which had also been Tyler¡¯s choice of weapon when he¡¯d first thought about the best way to effectively fight the duneclaws. But he¡¯d found it was incredibly hard to fashion a hammer that wouldn¡¯t fall apart after a single strike.

    So, he¡¯d defaulted to the next best thing ¡ª rocks.

    But this rock wasn¡¯t one of his smooth little throwing stones ¡ª it was almost as big as his head, and full of jagged edges and pitted holes. This was the type of rock he used to break apart coconut hulls.

    As the duneclaw leveled its tail to strike, he shoved the stone downwards with the fluid strength of someone who had spent weeks learning the motion.

    The volcanic rock barely slowed as it crashed through the thing¡¯s striking tail pincer, collapsing the entire back half of the monster''s sandy armor with a horrifying crunch. The duneclaw spasmed just as the juvenile had when he¡¯d stomped on it, and from his waist he freed the weapon that he¡¯d fashioned from that first one¡¯s corpse.

    Its legs collapsed from underneath it, and it flailed its front claws in a series of weak snaps, desperately trying to strike at him. But just as the juvenile¡¯s front pincers had been too weak to break through more than muscle, now these feeble attacks stopped cold against his hardened bones.

    Tyler gritted his teeth, twisting his leg free of the pincer and raising his arms above his head.

    It gave one last spasm and ear-wrenching cry as he drove his knife through its brain.

    And then at last, blissful quiet.

    For a second he just stood there, kneeling over the corpse. An enormous breath escaped his lungs, and he slumped, his muscles burning with exertion. The rabid energy of the Flowing Sands died down in his core, and the lapping of the waves seemed to soften once more.

    And then, he couldn¡¯t help but whoop.

    ¡°Holy hell,¡± he gasped. ¡°I actually did it. I did it!¡±

    In less than a minute, he¡¯d killed a fully-grown duneclaw.

    He stabbed the thing again to confirm its death, feeling the power in his limbs that had so easily let him take the life of an alien monster. This was what all his training had led up to. This was what made all those days of fear and pain worth it.

    Tyler wanted to cry.

    He knew he wasn¡¯t out of danger yet. There would be others coming for him soon, especially now that their numbers had grown. He¡¯d never encountered a full-fledged swarm, and it was in his best interest to flee this instant because he was sure he wouldn¡¯t be able to survive such a thing as he was. But even as the thought passed through his mind, that sense of fear that had been gripping him failed to raise its ugly head.

    For the first time, he really felt the cool night air rushing into his lungs, the soft grass beneath his feet, the beautiful hue of the moonlight and a sea of stars that shone bright despite the craggy veins tearing through the sky. He felt the soft touch of the wind, and the sheer aliveness of a world that he had been deprived of for what felt like an eternity. For just a moment, he was free.

    And even as the chorus of unsettling chitters began to converge towards him, even as he thrummed the Flowing Sands back into action and started frantically dragging the corpse back to the cave, he couldn¡¯t seem to get rid of the enormous grin plastering his face.

    Tyler glanced down at the Core of Protection. It hung in the center of a plain steel pendant he¡¯d scavenged, the string tied short to keep it tight against his collarbone. Through his soul, he could feel the artifact brimming with energy.

    The Core of Protection is fully charged.

    He laughed, and it was the same kind of laugh that had come the first time he had killed a duneclaw. A deep, triumphant howl that asserted to the world that he was the master of his own fate.

    I was never at risk of taking a deadly strike.

 7: Discoveries

    Tyler cheered as the heavy log fell back into place, stabbing fistfuls of branches through the gaps he¡¯d been forced to leave in his hurry to wrench the door closed.

    Not a moment after, a half-dozen duneclaws crashed into the barrier, pincers snapping and scraping against the wood and stone of his cavernous home. He heard them descend upon the location in a wave, a true swarm of creatures driven mad by the stench of their dead brethren. But the barrier held.

    He let out a sigh, a big dumb smile etched on his face as he slumped next to the corpse that he''d thrown into the cave just seconds ago.

    ¡°Wow,¡± he mumbled. ¡°There''s even more of them than I thought.¡±

    And more would come, he was sure. Duneclaws begat noise begat more duneclaws, or something. He didn¡¯t know how many there were on the island, but he was sure it had to be in the hundreds.

    I won¡¯t truly be free until I¡¯m able to take on those swarms.

    He chuckled as he examined himself, running his thumb over the scrape on his shin. Even after all his growth, he was reminded of just how far he had to go.

    But he¡¯d gotten what he''d come out for.

    The high of victory and survival was still bubbling away, like sea foam after the crash of a ginormous wave. He took a moment to just revel in it, as the adrenaline slowly faded and his heartbeat went back to normal.

    When was the last time he¡¯d really accomplished something? Something that had pushed at the limits of his capabilities, that required effort measured in the span of months and not hours? It must have been before the crash. After it, after that¡­ hell, he was sure he¡¯d lost that spark that had propelled him for so much of his life.

    But he supposed that it was still there inside him, after all.

    Tyler giggled.

    He¡¯d killed a full-grown duneclaw. And it had been¡­ not easy, perhaps, but doable. Replicable. If required, he was confident he could do it again and again as many times as he needed to. And that feeling was powerful for that little spark of ambition that had slowly grown within him over the past month.

    He wasn¡¯t content just hiding away in his little cave any longer. Now, he wanted more.

    With a groan, he dragged his kill over to his fire as the corpse slowly leaked fluid. His gait was shaky now that his limbs had cooled down, but the weeks of training and infusion of Resilience had turned that from a major hindrance to something manageable.

    This one was a lot bigger than the other one ¡ª probably as long as he was tall, if you counted the tail. He doubted he could have managed to drag the thing even a couple of steps before eating the banana, but with the Flowing Sands he¡¯d managed a steady half-shuffle-half-sprint for the minute or so it took him to get back to the cave.

    He now had another couple weeks of food at the very least. He would have preferred a more balanced diet, but even if he managed to sneak out and snag some fruit, he would be hard-pressed to find some that the duneclaws hadn¡¯t already gotten their grubby little claws on. The entire island was covered in rotting fruit, courtesy of the giant insects.

    Luckily, he was probably fine in the water department for a while longer. He had maybe a week¡¯s worth of coconuts left from those giant sacks Savadiere had left in the cave, and once he was through he could try and go out to get more. The coconut trees were hard enough to climb that the duneclaws didn''t seem to be able to get up them to eat the young, soft ones, and the monsters either weren¡¯t strong enough to bust the mature ones open or they just weren¡¯t smart enough to realize they could. All the marks on the coconuts he¡¯d seen felt incidental, the same way the creatures would claw at tree trunks or stones.

    Tyler silently laughed at them for it. Hah, your entire species is named after your pincers but you still can¡¯t crack open a piece of fruit. My species has been cracking open coconuts for millennia!

    ¡°Oh god, I¡¯m deliriously making fun of the alien species that was five seconds away from murdering me again.¡±

    He shook his head, drawing in a deep breath and taking a sip of coconut water. Maybe this was what social isolation did to people. Then again, they deserved it. The steady pounding and scraping on his door would make anyone want to mentally bully a swarm of alien insects.

    At least, that was what he told himself.

    He needed to go to bed, he decided. He was too tired to handle the sweltering heat of a cooking session right now, even if he could potentially ventilate the cave more now that he could move the entrance log. He tossed a celebratory twig on the dragonfire embers, watching with a grin as it instantly caught fire.

    No more rationing out his furniture, either. Now that he was strong enough to get out, he could scavenge branches, crack the door open to vent air and have a constant little flame going. The thought made him smile, and he ¡ª

    Pop.

    Tyler shot up, hands grasping for a spear that wasn¡¯t next to him. What was that? Had the duneclaws broken through the barrier? Why was¡­

    The barrier was fine, and now that Tyler was on high-alert he realized that the sound wasn¡¯t anything like the constant scraping noises of the army of claws fighting against the log.

    It had almost sounded like popcorn. And it had come from next to him, not the cave entrance. But there wasn¡¯t anything in that direction, nothing except¡­

    The seeds. He¡¯d gathered a collection of seeds from all the fruit that he¡¯d eaten over the past month, and without noticing, he¡¯d let the duneclaw corpse leak bug blood on them.

    And from the very smallest pile, where the acidic fluid had just begun to pool, he glimpsed something green, rising from the sea of black.

    It shouldn¡¯t have been very noticeable ¡ª the duneclaw blood itself was green, and there was a smattering of leaves and grass scattered across the cave as it was. Its shape didn¡¯t catch the eye, and it was small enough that he¡¯d barely noticed it was actually standing upright.

    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    But there was something about it that seemed to Resonate with him.

    Tyler shuffled over to the small shoot, which he soon recognized as a sprout coming out of one of the seeds. Small roots crawled along the floor beside it, and the dried blood seemed to fade as it reached them, as if the plant had drunk it all to fuel the sprout¡¯s growth.

    Resilience-Touched Banana Seed

    This seed has received positive effects from the Dimensional Storm, and has been catalyzed with the blood of a Storm-Cursed entity. It may draw upon the Resilience within its environment, harnessing the Aspect to grow and fuel its fruit.

    ¡°Shit.¡±

    He read the description over again.

    ¡°Shit.¡±

    Of course, it was a seed from the magic banana. But he¡¯d Analyzed each and every one of them at the beginning of his stay, and the descriptions hadn¡¯t been like that at all. He¡¯d tried planting a few, both outside and in the dirt that lined the far corner of the cave that he, uh, regularly fertilized, and nothing had happened.

    But the seeds could grow ¡ª they just needed a different nutrient. He quickly fished the rest of the seeds out from the pile before they could be touched by the duneclaw fluids, Analyzing each one to see which had already been catalyzed by his own blood.

    ¡°Okay, you¡¯re all going in a far safer space.¡±

    He wrapped them in leaves, then again in his long-forgotten pajama shirt, which he¡¯d abandoned within the first couple of days of being stranded in the cave. But though the future possibilities were shining bright in his mind, they were altogether outshone by the blinding revelation right in front of him.

    Some of the seeds were duds. Some of them just hadn¡¯t been bled on. But this one had sprouted.

    He¡¯d had the right idea all along. Like a normal seed, it could feed on biological matter. But not for the matter itself ¡ª for the Resilience inside of it.

    Tyler carefully took the sprout in his palm, tracing each tiny root that had emerged from the seed. Slowly, carefully, he dragged the roots along the spilled bug blood, watching in fascination as it absorbed it and grew in real time.

    He could sense the Resonance accumulating within it. He often didn¡¯t pay much attention to the Resilience of the outside world, trapped as his mana was inside of his own body, but now he began to notice just how bright the duneclaw shone with the substance. It was slowly fading ¡ª likely dispersing now that the thing was dead ¡ª but it glimmered like glitter in his senses.

    After a moment of thought, he snapped the tail off of his kill. It took quite a bit of effort, but the time flashed by in an instant as his thoughts were consumed by anticipation.

    Then, he dragged the rest of the body over to the dirt. The cave was large enough that he rarely came over to this area other than to do his business, but he¡¯d left the most shovel-shaped piece of wood he could find leaning against the wall to help with that purpose.

    Now, he began digging. He worked his still-sore muscles, letting the Flowing Sands wash over him as he carved out a hole that was far larger than he was used to. By the time he was done, it almost looked like a grave. Which it kind of was, he supposed.

    With a deep breath, he cracked open the duneclaw¡¯s main carapace as best as he could and nestled the seed deep in its flesh. He plopped it onto the bed of dirt and drained the blood of the tail directly on top of the seed.

    He began piling a thin layer of dirt on top of it.

    Before he could even finish, the sprout had broken through.

    Holy shit. Holy fucking shit.

    Before his eyes it grew, first at a pace so slow that he was half-sure it was a trick of the firelight, and then faster and faster until it must have been growing an inch every couple of seconds. He instinctually Analyzed it, mouth hanging agape as he witnessed the birth of a magical tree in real time.

    Resilience-Touched Banana Tree (Sapling)

    This young sapling has been fed with compounds containing a minor Resonance with the Aspect of Resilience. It will slowly grow under normal conditions, but one may accelerate its growth and production by feeding it more matter containing Resilience.

    Flat palm-sized leaves sprouted from the top of the plant, and motes of Resilience-tinged light shimmered into existence as its trunk gradually turned from fresh green to an older, steady brown.

    Tyler brushed his hand against one of the luminescent specks, shivering as the magic tickled his skin before disappearing in a puff of light. The tree was almost up to his chest now, and more and more leaves were sprouting from it, shooting up in twisted lines and then unfurling like a blooming flower.

    One especially large one shot up and flopped onto his head.

    He took a step back and regretfully realized that he should have planted it further away from the wall. The tree''s leaves facing the cave''s wall curved as they pressed against the stone, conforming to the shape of the cave in a contorted but somehow pleasing way.

    But Tyler only had a moment to think about the tree¡¯s leaves before something even more amazing occurred. Another green shoot sprouted from the tree¡¯s trunk, but rather than being another leaf, this one had a small red bulb at the tip, which he slowly realized was a flower.

    The motes of light coalesced around the bulb, until it shone like a lantern as it hung steadily from the tree¡¯s outstretched limb.

    Resilience-Touched Banana Blossom

    This flower is the first blossom of a Mana-Touched Banana Tree. It can be eaten to increase the cultivation of Resonance within its consumer. If the tree is continually fed, it may bloom into a host of Mana-Touched fruit.

    The bulb slowly grew as it drooped, growing longer and fatter by the minute as Tyler stared at it, ensnared by the magical process. Its smooth exterior grew darker and more textured, and the motes of light gradually winked out until it was illuminated only by the light of the flickering flames.

    Then, as the tree finally finished its extraordinary growth, a single petal bloomed outwards, revealing a trio of baby flowers underneath.

    As the tree finally stopped its extraordinary growth, he gingerly reached out, plucking the petal from its place of growth.

    With a quick prayer to whichever gods held purview over magical fruits and people stranded on islands, he popped the thing into his mouth.

    It was tough and chewy, like he''d just chomped on a particularly fibrous leaf. Which, he supposed, was pretty close to what he''d done.

    He chewed on it for a minute until it became this mushy little ball of plant in his mouth. It was a little disgusting, but it also had some pleasant floral notes that he could appreciate behind the astringent bitterness that was dominating his taste buds. He ground the glob between his molars, trying to break down the fibers and hopefully release more of the magic inside of the thing.

    And then when he thought he¡¯d chewed it up to the best of his ability, he swallowed the whole thing like a big pill.

    He sat down, half-expecting nothing to happen because he¡¯d already reached Saturation. But immediately, he felt that melody within him began to grow. Something within his soul had tipped.

    He¡¯d already accumulated a giant buildup of Resonance from his fight, and now the petal¡¯s energy surged through him, stimulating his soul and buzzing with a frequency that fittingly Resonated with the Resilience already saturating his mana.

    Tyler gasped, furiously circulating his mana in the cultivation form.

    The tension of his built-up Resilience grew greater by the second, accumulating in the swirling sea of mana foaming in his core. The vibrations intensified, building and building until he was scared something in his soul would break.

    And then woosh.

    The excess Resilience was subsumed.

    The already-massive pool of energy within him grew even further, the ambient mana circulating deeper into his muscles like water seeping into cracked, dry soil. The bleeding of his scrape slowly came to a stop, and his strained muscles relaxed, the burden on his joints eased by the Aspect as it suffused his very being.

    Congratulations! You have advanced to Mid-Novice.

 8: Advancement

    Congratulations! You have advanced to Mid-Novice.

    Tyler opened his eyes, adrenaline flooding through him as a swell of newfound energy blossomed in his limbs.

    "Fuck," he gasped. ¡°Holy cow.¡±

    This was a rush like he''d never felt before. It was similar to that surge of energy that had accompanied his Awakening, but this time he was in a position to actually appreciate it. He''d gotten competent enough in his cultivation to know what his mana was supposed to feel like, and this was a qualitative increase in every possible way.

    His soul felt deeper ¡ª stronger ¡ª and the sea of mana roiling within it seemed to have grown even larger as he brushed his senses through it.

    There¡¯s no way this is normal, Tyler thought with a rush of glee. Or else the Reamans would¡¯ve surely been practicing all day by the time they reached adulthood. It has to be the Curse.

    Of course, everyone¡¯s mana capacity increased with advancement. He was pretty sure that was the case, given the implicit references he¡¯d seen all over his Analysis of the cave carvings. But it had felt like a gradual thing ¡ª one that was nice, but nothing game-changing until you got to a much higher level of cultivation. The Reamans thought that the increase in effectiveness of one¡¯s mana was always the most awe-worthy thing about advancing.

    But for him¡­

    He had already struggled to reach the bottom of his stores, and now they must have grown again by half.

    Tyler laughed.

    He¡¯d gotten better at perceiving the entirety of his soul in the past month, to the point where he could usually wrap his mind around the sheer mass of his mana pool and measure out just how much of it he¡¯d actually consumed in a training session. It had taken some strenuous training ¡ª a sort of stretching of his mind and spiritual perception to widen his metaphorical field of view until it could encompass the entirety of the huge lake sitting in the middle of his soul.

    Now, he supposed he was right back to square one.

    And as brilliant as his increase in capacity was, he supposed the Reamans were right that the increase of power was the most awe-worthy thing about his new state.

    When his threads of mana circulated through his channels, they carried a strength to them that they hadn¡¯t before. The mana itself felt denser, more liquid. It had always held an ephemeral quality to it, especially in contrast to the sheer size of his pool, but now he could see it beginning to condense.

    Tyler engaged the Flowing Sands, and even with the offhand execution the technique rushed through him with a steadiness that would have taken him his full concentration just minutes before. It took less time to get started, and once it thrummed at full force he realized it was a fuller force than he could have ever managed before the advancement. There was more to it in every possible way.

    He slammed his forearm against his favorite boulder, and his newly strengthened muscles let the strike land with an impact that was satisfyingly deep. It might¡¯ve sent tremors running through his arm, but the Flowing Sands increased his durability and control, as well.

    And perhaps best of all, his inflammation felt like it had gotten just a smidge less intense.

    ¡°Man.¡±

    Advancement. He¡¯d only experienced it once, and he was already addicted.

    He was a Mid-Novice now. Then there was High-Novice, and Peak-Novice. The average Reaman civilian was Peak-Novice. For so long, that had felt like such a far-out goal ¡ª he¡¯d subconsciously written it off as unattainable. But now, it felt like it was so close. For the first time, he considered that he might even go beyond that. Journeyman.

    He let out a shuddering breath, the sheer amount of possibilities blooming in his mind. There were so many more things to do.

    And for the first time, he felt like he had a perfect path forward.

    He walked up to the tree, his steps just slightly more powerful than they''d been a minute prior, and patted it with a grateful hand.

    "You know, Magic Banana Tree, I cannot tell you how much I appreciate your existence."

    He brushed the back of his hand against the bulb, and it took his entire store of willpower not to immediately start gnawing on it. This was pure power sitting right there ¡ª waiting to be consumed ¡ª but it was also fairly mild in the grand scheme of things.

    Yes, that petal had helped him over the edge, but it was really the accumulated Resonance from all his cultivation and the weeks and weeks of training capped with the enormous influx from that life-or-death fight against the Duneclaw.

    If he ate this entire thing, he wasn''t sure that it''d even do that much for him. No, what was far more exciting was what the bulb represented.

    Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.

    Bananas. A host of magical fruit, each one further increasing his cultivation.

    He wanted to do a mad cackle like some sort of supervillain. If he could bring back a Duneclaw corpse every day...

    Tyler smiled.

    That was probably a lot of bananas.

    <hr>

    He''d been exhausted enough after the fight to flop onto his bed and instantly drift off, but despite it probably being closer to sunrise than sunset, the advancement had made him restless with energy.

    His thoughts couldn¡¯t stop racing with plans, and every time his gaze drifted to the softly-glowing banana tree it sent a jolt of excitement running through him. The swarm of duneclaws were still crawling over the vicinity, and he wanted to meet their challenge ¡ª to move, to fight, to bring back their corpses and turn them into cultivation fuel.

    But despite the impulse and his newfound power, he knew that going out into the swarm was a terrible idea.

    So to occupy his mind, he examined the cave carvings once more.

    This was a bit of a routine for him these days, when he was too tired to train and too awake to sleep. He could garner quite a bit of insight from the carvings nowadays, and his Analysis prompts had grown into long, sprawling paragraphs of text.

    He realized that it was a bit odd, just how much he was able to understand the Reamans. They were very similar to humans in more ways than just physical, and he didn¡¯t know if that was just sheer coincidence or if something deeper was going on. Maybe they¡¯d all evolved from some common magical ancestor, or maybe it was just the Dimensional Storm mashing worlds with similar species together.

    But whatever it was, he''d grown to appreciate the intricacies of Reaman culture through these techniques. They were a strong warrior people, but also scavengers, and their techniques reflected the dichotomy of that relationship. They could never rely on their strength alone, but strength was also necessary to execute their martial arts ¡ª both the ones based around fighting off much larger and much smaller opponents. A Reaman Warrior was hard and soft at the same time, immovable yet endlessly flexible.

    There was a great beauty to it, which only made him more peeved that he couldn''t execute the majority of their techniques.

    Tyler had learned to make do with that he had ¡ª and he couldn''t wait to test just how long he could maintain the Flowing Sands, given the level of control he¡¯d been granted.

    Now that he''d advanced, though, he had an inkling that maybe he could try tackling another.

    The techniques weren''t quite arranged in terms of power, but from what he gathered, a level of power was necessary in order to use many of the techniques that were higher up on the pyramid. At Low-Novice, the only one he¡¯d been able to pull off was the Flowing Sands.

    Now, he was ready to experiment again.

    The Dragon¡¯s Bones

    The Dragon¡¯s Bones is a core body fortification technique of the Art of the Sandstorm. When activated, it channels the practitioner''s mana to momentarily suffuse the body, imbuing it with the unyielding toughness of a dragon¡¯s bones. This technique shines in short defensive bursts, allowing the user to endure powerful strikes or protect vital areas in moments of critical danger¡­

    If there was anything that screamed Resilience, it was this. It felt perfect for him, from the circulation pattern to its versatility between Aspects. Bone practitioners obviously had the advantage with this one, but it looked like those with the Aspect of Sand could also use it, and some random paragraph in his Analysis had mentioned that this technique had actually been stolen and co-opted from the Reamans by another race that used different Aspects.

    Most importantly, though, it didn¡¯t have any external component. His Curse wouldn¡¯t hurt him with this one.

    He''d made many clumsy attempts at it in the past, but he''d always foregone more extensive practice in favor of honing his mastery of the Flowing Sands, which was much more immediately helpful for his situation.

    But now he''d advanced, and he¡¯d grown comfortable enough with the Flowing Sands to use it in battle. He was ready to move up the pyramid.

    It was meant to be paired with the body-strengthening exercises at the bottom of the other pyramid. And so, once again marveling at how all his injuries from the battle had been healed by the advancement, he set himself in front of his favorite pounding rock and began to work at it.

    His bones were hard ¡ª strong in a way he could have never imagined before coming to the island. Months of doing these exercises had granted them a level of durability and density that had only been increased further by the new rush of natural Resilience flowing through his veins. Even without any techniques helping him, he thought that his body these days could stand up to those of professional athletes in the old world.

    But now he delved deeper into his soul, feeling the way that the spiritual meshed with the physical in each inch of his being. His mana channels spread out infinitely, confined yet endless. And as he pushed his mana through them, he didn''t do it in the wide, rhythmic circle that the Flowing Sands required. Instead, like holding a breath, he pushed all of it deeper and forced it to settle deeper ¡ª into the smaller branching channels that touched more upon his skin, bone, and sinew.

    Like it had in the hundreds of times he''d tried this before, his soul gave out at the unnatural motion, his mana flowing back into his core after an instant. But this time, he felt with a subtle jolt that something had almost happened. For just a split second, he''d been on the cusp of imbuing the Aspect of Resilience into himself in a way that he¡¯d never done before.

    Tyler nodded, pondering the attempt.

    There was definitely progress being made here. It really was a perfect fit.

    The movement was strenuous ¡ª incredibly difficult for his soul to hold ¡ª and yet the Resilience somehow clung to the position at the same time. It felt natural for his mana to do this, to imbue something very close to the property from which it had been named. Perhaps he''d never been strong enough to do it in the past, but now¡­

    He slammed his shin into the boulder again, flooding his mana through into the limb at the last second. The impact thudded through his body, but it didn''t hurt nearly as much as it should have.

    Tyler grinned. There it was ¡ª his first clumsy, inefficient, horrible execution of the technique.

    He couldn¡¯t wait to do it again.

    It had taken him more than a month to consistently use the Flowing Sands at the level of a Reaman child, and this technique was far more difficult to learn. There were many less intermediate steps between complete failure and full mastery, and the level of control needed dwarfed anything he¡¯d ever accomplished before.

    It might have been that this first success was pure luck. The Dragon¡¯s Bones was practiced by those preparing to be Reaman Warriors, and it was said that it required months ¡ª if not years ¡ª of dedicated study to grasp. He imagined a wise Reaman Shaman would tell him to practice patience, and that a first success was nothing but a mirage of the potential one could achieve after years of repetition.

    But somehow, he felt like this wouldn¡¯t take nearly that long.

 9: A Moment of Peace

    Tyler cycled his mana as a gentle wave washed over him, thousands of tiny bubbles tickling his skin. A flurry of suspended sand and tiny pieces of shells split around his legs, steadily creeping up the beach only to be dragged back out to sea as the waters fell once more.

    The salty air sunk into his nose and taste buds in a harsh yet pleasant way, and he basked in the moment as the midday sun shone warm against his skin.

    He let out a contented sigh.

    It was quaint. Peaceful, even.

    Well, salt water might have been getting into some of his wounds, but he wasn''t going to let that, the inflammation, or the wall of ominous cosmic soup just a dozen feet away get in the way of this moment.

    With each motion of the waves, he moved his mana accordingly, surging outwards into those deep, tiny channels that he could barely reach, then letting the power fall in a cascade back into his core.

    Again and again, he practiced the Dragon¡¯s Bones, and as the minutes went by he could feel his mana sink deeper and deeper into his channels.

    ¡°Ahh.¡±

    This felt nice.

    It was a great way to practice, all things considered. It wasn''t something that the Reamans actually did, given the lack of open bodies of water in a desert, but it seemed right somehow to be learning from nature.

    It had only been two weeks, but he was already making great progress.

    In the days following his victory over the duneclaw, Tyler had slowly exposed himself to the island, darting out and scouting the state of things in little bursts before quickly returning to his cave. It had been nerve-wracking at first ¡ª especially since the presence of the Core of Protection gave the duneclaws an extra way to locate him ¡ª but over the days he¡¯d gotten acclimated to the way of life here.

    The duneclaws ruled the island ¡ª of that, there was little question. There were some magic water seagulls that stole their prey and other kinds of creatures that he sometimes glimpsed on the outskirts of the island, but in terms of sheer numbers and territory the big scorpion-like monsters had the island grasped in their ferocious grips. They swarmed around all the forested areas, leaving their little claw marks on anything and everything that was within reach, and their screeches had become a steady tune that haunted the island day and night.

    Tyler had quickly discovered one area that they never dared go to, however ¡ª the water.

    Due to the duneclaws¡¯ adaptation to highly dry and hot places, their chitin was actually very sensitive to moisture, and an abundance of water would make the monsters gradually fall apart at the seams. He¡¯d actually already seen this with the first ones he¡¯d killed ¡ª their front claws, being much less reinforced than their tail, had already succumbed partially to the sheer moisture in the air.

    It seemed that most of the monsters instinctively avoided the water, which was incredible for him considering how close his cave was to the beach. So after a month of gathering filth, just a couple of days after his victory he¡¯d finally worked up the courage to wash himself down in the ocean. It had been a near-heavenly experience, despite the lukewarm water and constant fear that a monster would come upon him at any moment.

    He¡¯d devised a system of traveling along the coastline to get to any area of the beach that he wanted, and today he was on the opposite side of the flat, desert-like patch of the island from where his cave was situated. He¡¯d taken a liking to this area specifically because the open space meant he could keep a better eye on any duneclaws looking to sneak up on him, and the flying monsters that sometimes harassed him usually kept to the forested side of things.

    For the past week, this spot had been a safe haven for him.

    Nothing dangerous ever came up out of the water ¡ª or at least, nothing up until this point ¡ª and if he ignored the blurry barrier between the waves and the line of sunken skyscrapers in that vast sea of dimensional magic, it was a spot of untouched nature.

    Tyler chuckled for a moment as a particularly large wave crashed onto him, the strength of the Dragon¡¯s Bones not enough to overcome physics as his loose stance on the underwater sand was wrenched free. He let himself float back up the shore, joining a line of pebbles and small shells to wash up on the beach.

    As much as this was an area of physical safety, it was just as much a haven for his mental state. After a month of being trapped in a dark, gloomy, dirty cave, he could finally see the sun again. He could bask in the breeze, inhale what might have been the freshest air he¡¯d ever breathed, and sit underneath the stars on this little stretch of beach that was more picturesque than any place he¡¯d ever gotten a chance to visit back in his old life.

    It was a little impractical from a survival standpoint to risk a fight every day he came here, he knew. Despite his new prowess, one slip-up during a swarm was all it would take to do him in.

    But the sheer peace that he got simply from being here was too much to pass up.

    There was real beauty on this island, despite the infestation and the claw marks that dotted nearly everything in sight. There was this art in nature, a healing touch that let him forget about the inflammation and the brutal dances of life-or-death that he now regularly found himself in.

    As he bobbed up and down with the waves, he pushed his mana through his channels once more.

    It had taken him a while to get used to the difference in execution between his two techniques. While the Flowing Sands could be chained into itself infinitely ¡ª a steady state of power ¡ª the Dragon¡¯s Bones was very instantaneous. Like the waves, it surged and it fell, and it was in that motion that the power came.

    He did wonder if he could maintain it for longer. Waves would always have a surge and a fall, but perhaps that moment of impact could be lengthened. Perhaps there was a way to hold that moment, in some manipulation of his mana. A future aspiration, maybe.

    And speaking of future aspirations¡­

    Tyler abruptly warped his mana into a sharp spiral, then through a dozen smaller spirals at the edges of it. His soul shuddered with the strain, and his concentration fell apart before he could even finish a single loop.

    Oh well. The Forge of Dawn and Dusk had always been a long shot, anyways. The proper execution of the technique would have him move his mana in an almost fractal-like pattern, but he supposed there was a reason that one was only performed by Reaman Warriors.

    Before he could get too frustrated about being too weak to perform the healing technique, he returned to practicing the Dragon¡¯s Bones.

    Over the past two weeks, his technique had gone from a weak, inconsistent thing to something that he could perform in the heat of battle. The denser mana of a Mid-Novice surged through his channels upon every execution, and though he was always cautious of the duneclaws¡¯ tail strikes, he could face their weaker front claws without much trouble nowadays.

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    As if summoned by his thoughts, a duneclaw screeched from behind him. He instantly turned, wiping the water from his closed eyes and readying himself for battle, but the creature flinched away the moment it stepped onto the wet sand. A few moments later, it was scurrying back to the forested area across the island.

    Tyler shook his head, retracting the arm that had already been reaching for the spear that he¡¯d wedged beside himself. It wasn¡¯t too uncommon for them to venture into this area, especially given the magical signature that the Core of Protection must have given off. Still, every time that it happened it made his heart skip a beat.

    At the same time, he was already fighting an urge to pursue it. Any singular duneclaw was hardly a threat nowadays, and he had a borderline addiction to feeding their corpses to the tree.

    Then again, he had his scavenged resources out here. He still couldn¡¯t risk getting caught in a swarm, and he¡¯d go hunting once the night came anyways.

    After a couple more loops of practice, Tyler made his way back to shore.

    He tossed on his clothes, which were still permanently stained with blood and dirt despite his numerous attempts at washing them in the ocean, and grabbed two satchels that he''d propped up against a nearby boulder. It was mostly sticks and rocks today, but he¡¯d scavenged quite the variety of materials over the past two weeks. It was nice, having access to more than just the smattering of debris that dotted the cave.

    He wrung out his hair as he walked, chuckling at how long and shaggy it had grown into. He¡¯d never been one for the wild man look, but he thought that maybe it suited him now. He was glad that he¡¯d never been able to grow a beard, though ¡ª he was sure that he¡¯d be tearing his hair out if he had to deal with anything more than these little bits of stubble.

    A chitter sounded out from a couple-dozen paces to his right, so he engaged the Flowing Sands, jogging along the forested floor and passing by the numerous piles of throwing rocks he¡¯d set up throughout the island before the duneclaw could catch up to him. His gait ate up the ground at a pace he would have thought unimaginable just a month prior, and as he dashed between trees and over the lush grass, he gave a silent thanks to that banana once more. At this level of inflammation, he could almost feel normal again.

    A second chitter sounded out behind him, and he turned to throw a rock at the new enemy that was closing in. It tried to leap over and gore him, but the projectile sent it careening off-course, smashing hard into a tree and giving him the time to get within sight of the cave.

    Tyler moved the log almost effortlessly now, and closed it behind him a solid five breaths before the first duneclaw got to it.

    Nice.

    Flipping off his pursuers now that he was in the safety of his cave, he dumped his satchels into the piles of resources that he''d accumulated over the past couple of weeks. They lined the walls near the entrance in their distinct little piles, and he took it all in with a proud gaze as he tossed a spare twig onto the embers of dragonfire.

    This place was really becoming a home to him.

    Tyler had already done some heavy organization on the cave by the time he¡¯d first gotten out, and now with the influx of new materials he¡¯d taken it upon himself to truly furnish the place. He had little stations for training, cooking, and sleeping, as well as tables where he could tinker with things.

    He was learning to weave baskets, and trying to cobble together some rope so that he wasn''t overly reliant on Savadiere''s leftovers. He wasn''t quite good at making either yet, but he was making great progress due to the lessons from his Analysis.

    And he couldn¡¯t say that he wasn¡¯t proud of himself.

    A trio of baskets lined his little table setup, comprised of all the pieces of furniture that could still stand by itself. And while he wouldn''t trust them to hold anything more than a couple of pounds, they had a special place in his heart. It was art, after all, and art was important ¡ª especially in this place without people.

    He missed people.

    There were still times, late at night, when he would just sit there curled up in his bed of leaves, aching for any sort of companionship. The loneliness ate away at him, the lack of true connection stronger than anything he¡¯d felt before. He longed every day for a friendly face ¡ª someone to listen to him, to laugh with him, to show any ounce of sympathy for his plight.

    One could only make do with some flimsy cultural texts for so long.

    But at the same time, he felt a bit of peace in his isolation.

    Life was predictable here. He trained, scavenged, and fought mindless insects that he didn¡¯t feel particularly bad about doing in. He didn''t have to worry about the worst traits in humanity that had haunted him in his previous life ¡ª those moments of sadistic, self-serving malice that still appeared in his nightmares to this day. Compared to that, he could almost enjoy the opposition of these creatures that didn¡¯t have any thought to make such a choice.

    Yes, he would have loved someone to talk to, but had he really had someone to talk to, before the Storm?

    Nope, Tyler realized with a shrug. Not for the last couple of years, at least.

    It really was better here. He felt like he actually had some control over his life ¡ª some agency that wouldn''t be ruined by some rich asshole¡¯s random whims.

    As he looked around the cave, he felt a sense of pride radiating from his chest.

    I did this.

    He''d built his body up, bit by bit, and with that strength he''d transformed this place from a cold, inhospitable cavern to a place that at times could even feel cozy. Every tall pile of sticks or thick notch scraped on the wall represented his survival in this hazardous place.

    And crowning it all was the banana tree sitting at the far side of the cave, so tall that it was already brushing against the ceiling. It rested like a watchful sentry over his entire base of operations, exuding some warmth that he could have sworn was more than just his imagination.

    A bed of its fallen leaves dotted the ground around its trunk, a few bits of dried green blood pooled on top of them. He¡¯d laid a duneclaw corpse next to it just hours ago, but the tree had fed on it within minutes, dissolving it into specks of magic that slowly pooled into its roots.

    Tyler made his way over and plucked a decaying leaf from the thick lower part of its trunk. "You sure do grow a lot, huh? I guess I shouldn''t be surprised, given how many duneclaws I''m feeding you, but I feel like you need a haircut every other day."

    He laid the leaf down next to the others of its kind, glimpsing the tiny sprout of a new fresh one that would be swiftly taking its place. And as he let his gaze wander upwards¡­

    The absolutely massive bushel of bananas hung there, its numerous fruits green and in the midst of growth. The little guys were still pretty small currently, but if the scale of the tree was anything to go by he thought they¡¯d likely dwarf supermarket bananas by the time they were ripe. They shone with brilliant power in his soul¡¯s senses, and he shuddered as he thought of just how much Resonance was contained within the bunches of fruit.

    It probably wouldn¡¯t be long now until he could start reaping those rewards.

    Tyler took a deep sip from a coconut, and splashed a little water onto the plant¡¯s base. "I don¡¯t know if talking to a banana tree is past the line of ¡®certified crazy person,¡¯ but thank you for keeping me company these past weeks. I¡¯ve been working really hard, and I can tell you have too. Now we¡¯re almost at the finish line. Here''s a toast to us, alright? To progress."

    He patted the tree on the trunk one last time, then began limbering up his mana. Soon, he¡¯d be due for another hunting session. And he couldn¡¯t wait to see if he could break his kill record.

    <hr>

    But unbeknownst to Tyler, as he began going through the forms of the old Reaman tribes, a special sort of energy began buzzing at the tips of the tree¡¯s roots. It was an ancient, chaotic magic, colored purple and black and ever-shifting like an infinite sea. Built up over the absorption of dozens of corpses suffused with the mystical power, it reached outwards, tinged with blood harboring a primordial Curse and a will to preserve so strong it echoed throughout reality itself.

    And as the energy built, day after day, it began to touch upon the ancient rituals residing within the Cave of the Ancestors. The sparks within the tree¡¯s roots ran deeper through the fabric of the world, pushing past the mundane until they connected with these old magics ¡ª long dormant, but so potent that they had become inextricably linked with the matter of the cave itself.

    And as the two powers brushed against one another¡­ they simultaneously began to awaken.

 10: Rapid Progress

    Tyler sidestepped a duneclaw¡¯s lunge, twisting with all his might to slam the thing down from midair with an elbow. With his other arm, he jerked his two fresh duneclaw corpses to the side, blocking a wicked pincer strike aimed for his forearm.

    He moved to kick the first one, but a third one hissed at him from behind, demanding his attention lest he lose his head.

    He fended off a couple more strikes, but he had to let go of his corpses to do so, and so his next free breath was spent grabbing back onto their tails instead of moving. His breaths came heavy and strained, and he hissed as a jet of compressed water slammed into him from behind, knocking him off-balance.

    Tyler was within sight of his cave, but he was getting surrounded.

    They were beginning to swarm to the smell of their dead siblings ¡ª a phenomenon that he¡¯d been carefully strategizing around for the past weeks. But he¡¯d lingered here far longer than he had any time prior, choosing to risk it for more corpses instead of fleeing back to the safety of his cave.

    Now he was out in the open, drenched in the imperceptible smell of dead duneclaw and with the closest shoreline past where his cave was sitting. And duneclaws weren¡¯t the only thing he had to worry about.

    Another jet of water shot at him from above, and he cursed the giant magical seagulls that were intent on harassing him. They were apparently scavengers, and they probably believed that if the duneclaws felled him they¡¯d be able to fend them off for long enough to swoop in for a bite.

    The added distraction of an aerial enemy was incredibly inconvenient. Still, he¡¯d been dealing with fights like this for weeks.

    As he continued his delicate dance with death, Tyler took stock of his situation.

    He was tired and wounded, and he¡¯d lost his spear and most of his rocks in his sprint to get back to the cave. The Aspect of Resilience would accelerate his healing over the next few days, but it would be of little immediate help.

    A few weeks ago, he would have let the Core of Protection activate and shuffled back to his cave happy with the two corpses he¡¯d claimed. He was near enough that he¡¯d make it before the barrier ran out, and he¡¯d concluded after many nights of testing that the duneclaws really couldn¡¯t get the leverage to move his log.

    But today, he wasn¡¯t satisfied with only two corpses. And he had other cards to play.

    When the next strike came, he took it on the forearm.

    Before, even with all of his bone-strengthening exercises, he would have never dared to take a tail strike head-on. But now the Dragon¡¯s Bones settled within his arm, reinforcing his Resilience-touched skin and letting him take the blow with nothing but a jolt of pain. He let go of his corpses and shot his other hand out to grab the living duneclaw¡¯s tail, spinning it around him like a flail to ward off the trio of incoming strikes at his back.

    Then, with all his strength, he threw the creature up into the tree where the seagull was planted. The insectoid alien crashed into the bird with an enraged screech, which quickly turned pained as the seagull instinctively expelled seawater all around it. The liquid splashed everywhere, drenching the duneclaw and splashing all around the area as the remaining insects scuttled back.

    There was a reason that the seagulls were comfortable flying into a swarm of enraged duneclaws to steal a kill. His Analysis had told him that they came from an entirely different environment from Korshaan ¡ª one much more similar to his current surroundings. They didn¡¯t have any encounters with these things in their evolution, but upon mixing with them, they bullied the duneclaws like an invasive species.

    After all, these birds could only do one lick of magic ¡ª water manipulation. They used it in their natural habitats to catch small fish.

    But as Tyler had found out, duneclaws really didn¡¯t like water.

    The duneclaw and the seagull tumbled downwards in a heap, the insectoid monster writhing in pain as its carapace was flooded with far more moisture than it could handle. But the bird was in pain too ¡ª its bones were notoriously fragile, and the monster that had hit it must have weighed at least five times as much as it did.

    Tyler easily sidestepped a lunge from behind and brought his knife through the fallen creatures, one by one.

    Four corpses, nice.

    He¡¯d probably use the seagull for food, rather than feeding it to the tree. The meat of these things tasted a lot better than duneclaw jerky, and the birds themselves seemed to contain less Resilience within them than the insectoid creatures.

    For the past week he¡¯d been satisfied with this number, fleeing to consolidate his gains rather than risk more for a number of corpses that would be incredibly impractical to carry while fighting.

    But now he¡¯d done that same song and dance quite a few times, and he was growing impatient.

    The next duneclaw struck at him, and he pounded its head into the ground, driving the full force of his mana into the strike. Another came from behind him, and the Flowing Sands let him easily catch it in the belly with a fist.

    For so long now, he¡¯d been treating these creatures as foes of equal strength. He¡¯d been so impacted by his first experience with these things that he¡¯d always gone into battle with a skittishness to him that urged him to run at the first sign of trouble. But he¡¯d grown a lot since that first terrifying day.

    Jab. Sweep. Slam.

    His limbs cracked hard against crumpling chitin as the Flowing Sands drove his attacks through monster after monster. Glancing blows caught him in the calf, in the shoulder, in the hip, but with each injury, he claimed another corpse.

    The swarm screeched as they were driven on by more and more death, and he roared in challenge, driving his body further than it had ever gone before.

    He was unstoppable.

    His pool of mana was so deep that he could continue fighting for hours, and a flood of Resilience coursed through his soul like a torrent of rain upon a wilted forest. It was like nothing he¡¯d ever seen before ¡ª just an influx of Resonance so deep that it took him from two-thirds of the way through Mid-Novice to the verge of breaking through his Saturation Point.

    One strike, then another. Block, dodge, hit.

    The Flowing Sands turned his movements into a blur, and the Dragon¡¯s Bones stopped their attacks on his bare skin. The thrill and adrenaline of the fight coursed through his mind like a firestorm, and he found himself laughing through the chaos of battle. He felled monster after monster, building up and up and up until¡­

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    Tyler blinked, his fists shaky as he held them out in front of him in search of a target. He swiveled around in an instant, his senses screaming to watch out for another attack on his back, but all that he saw were broken corpses.

    The remaining duneclaws were fleeing.

    He gasped for breath, falling to a knee as the Flowing Sands slowly left his body, bringing back the inflammation and exhaustion that the adrenaline and thrill of battle had been hiding.

    His body was littered with injuries, and he chided himself for letting go of the Flowing Sands so early. The time it would have taken to build it back up in such a disoriented state could have been a death sentence if any waiting enemies decided to set upon him while he was down.

    But none were coming.

    They were gone. All gone.

    A memory arose from the back of his mind, a detail noted in his Analysis back when he¡¯d been researching the creatures¡¯ swarming behaviors.

    The duneclaw swarm was a species-wide defense mechanism ¡ª a threat to any predators that if you tried to hunt one of them, you¡¯d better be prepared to face an entire army of its siblings.

    But duneclaws were far from the dominant force on Korshaan. When faced with too powerful of a foe, it wouldn¡¯t do to sacrifice your entire species on the death of one member. And so, when the pheromonal stench of death grew too great, the instinct would switch. Now, instead of swarming, they would hide away as fast as possible to protect their bloodline from total annihilation.

    But to get to that point¡­ just how many corpses had he claimed?

    One, two, three, four, five¡­

    No. That couldn''t be right. He must have miscounted.

    But as he counted and recounted, he found that the fan of dead insects spread around him was obviously more than the typical handful that he typically brought back with him. The little clearing was positively littered with them, so much so that it was harder to find a spot that wasn¡¯t drenched in their sticky green blood than a spot that was.

    Eighteen. He¡¯d claimed eighteen corpses in total total ¡ª fifteen duneclaws and three of those seagulls.

    As the gravity of that number washed over him, Tyler let out an awestruck breath.

    The trial to enter apprenticeship as a Warrior required you to fell twelve duneclaws in unaided combat. He¡¯d thought that he¡¯d hit that number once he¡¯d reached Peak-Novice, as was traditional for Reaman adolescents. But he was still Mid-Novice ¡ª he hadn¡¯t even used his accumulated Resilience to break through yet.

    Tyler jumped to his feet, his wounds temporarily forgotten as he let out the loudest, happiest victory scream he¡¯d ever hollered.

    It wasn¡¯t long ago that he¡¯d been just a frail bag of skin and bones, plagued by inflammation and scared shitless by these monsters. And now he was on the path of a Reaman Warrior.

    As he slowly engaged the Flowing Sands to drag his kills into the cave, he couldn¡¯t help but marvel at this new life he¡¯d carved out for himself.

    Every day, he learned more about the natural world and the ancient alien culture that guided his magic. He spent his days relentlessly pursuing what he wanted, rather than slaving away just to line someone else¡¯s fat pockets. The Aspect of Resilience was stronger than ever within him, and a fair bit of muscle had even begun growing on his frame.

    The pain was still there, but it was quieter than it had ever been before, and it just felt so easy to ignore in the face of all the progress he was making.

    Especially now that he was on the precipice of advancement again.

    He placed his corpses at the base of the now-huge banana tree, watching as they dissolved into motes of light to sink into the small bed of soil. He¡¯d gathered more dirt around the magical plant as it grew, but after a certain point he¡¯d realized that his soil surely couldn¡¯t be doing that much given that he was only really piling it on top of the tree.

    A sharp crack would occasionally sound out throughout the cave in the minutes after he gave the plant its daily offering, and after a couple of heart attacks he¡¯d come to the conclusion that the tree must have been growing into the stone.

    The tree¡¯s leaves now covered a third of the cave¡¯s ceiling, melding with the shape of the stone to make a pleasant roof of foliage. Its trunk was thicker than two of him linking arms together, and motes of light permanently floated around it now in true magical fashion.

    And dangling near the center of the cave was an absolutely ginormous bushel of bananas.

    As it turned out, each of the petals of the bulbs that it sprouted held a handful of flowers underneath them, and each flower ¡ª if given enough energy ¡ª could sprout into a whole banana.

    Dozens and dozens of bananas ringed the bulb like kernels on a cob of corn, each one various shades of green and as big as his hand. And as the energy from the duneclaws slowly made its way up the tree, the bananas grew even more, the ripest ones morphing to a pleasant yellow and ballooning outwards until they were almost a foot long.

    Tyler took a deep breath. They were finally ready.

    Anticipation welling in his chest, he picked the first banana.

    It looked slightly different from the one Savadiere had given him all those weeks ago ¡ª it was much bigger and a more vibrant yellow, and now that he had the senses for it, he could see that it absolutely shone with Resilience.

    It peeled back smooth, revealing soft white flesh¡­ and no seeds?

    Huh, that was interesting.

    He took a bite of it, and sure enough, there were no seeds hidden inside the flesh either. That was both convenient and incredibly saddening, because he''d been entertaining plans of farming the duneclaws like cattle and feeding them to an army of magical banana trees.

    Then again, he was sure there was another way to propagate banana trees, since modern industrialized banana trees didn''t have seeds either. He was sure his Analysis could give some more insight on that ¡ª it was very good with Earth stuff ¡ª but for now, he couldn¡¯t hold himself back any longer.

    Tyler gave the tree an appreciative pat and settled down in a meditative position by his bed. The Resilience was already pooling into his overstuffed soul, threatening to tip him over the edge.

    As soon as he finished eating, he closed his eyes, circulating the energy in the cultivation pattern of the Art of the Sandstorm. The wounds on his body slowly patched over with fresh skin, and his entire soul tensed for just a moment as his mana gained another layer of depth to it.

    Congratulations! You have advanced to High-Novice.

    He whooped, sitting up as a new influx of strength bloomed in his body. Just as before, his exhaustion was instantly vanquished by the cocktail of rejuvenation and excitement that shot like lightning through his veins. He couldn¡¯t wait to see what he could do now, and he instantly took off to his training area, ready to record every little change in his body and soul.

    But if Tyler¡¯s soul had been just a bit more powerful, he might have caught hint of the building reaction occurring right underneath his feet. If he had been just a bit more skilled, he might have even been able to connect the buildup of dimensional energy within the tree to the newly-energized enchantments used for generations in the Reamans¡¯ greatest and most sacred ceremonies. Ceremonies such as the initiation of a new Warrior¡¯s apprentice.

    The enchantments reached across spiritual connections that had served them for generations, sending mana from their millennium-old stores through to find their counterparts in the vast network of caves that once dotted this tribe¡¯s lands. But no matter how far they reached, their magic seemed to always stop short.

    There was no network of caves in this new realm that the Cave of the Ancestors had been transported to. It was the sole artifact of its tribe, a foreign landmark meshed with the soil of a thousand different worlds that had been so apart from it prior they might as well have not existed. But the connections still existed, through the fabric of space and time and reality itself. They could feel them, through that new chaotic, primal magic that had woken the enchantments up in the first place.

    And so, through this new coat of cosmic energy that sparked bright against their mana, the enchantments pulled.

    And if Tyler had paid just a bit more attention, he might have noticed a faint whisper building in that new chamber in his mind associated with his System Boons. A whisper that would gradually build throughout the days, until it was so loud that it couldn¡¯t possibly be ignored.

    The Dimensional Storm is Coming.

 11: Defiance (1/2)

    The next week passed by in a blur of movement.

    When Tyler wasn¡¯t fighting, he was training. And when he wasn¡¯t training, he was studying. And all throughout those activities, he was buoyed by the massive influx of energy that arose from the oversized bunch of magic bananas in front of him.

    Each of the bananas individually might have had less of an effect than the original, but there were more than fifty of them on the bulb, and each one was almost the length of his forearm and packed with magical energy. Every banana held within it the accumulated Resilience from dozens of duneclaws, and each fruit gave him an influx of energy equal to more than a day¡¯s worth of training.

    And he realized that they carried with them more than just raw Resilience. They weren¡¯t just strengthening him ¡ª they were healing him, cleansing his entire being. He noticed his skin was perfect, despite the godawful living conditions he¡¯d been set in. His now-shoulder-length hair had gained a lustrous shine, and if he weren¡¯t completely incapable of growing facial hair, he suspected he would have had a glorious bushy beard like a true wildman.

    Even without advancing, he suspected a couple of them were enough to heal minor wounds in a minute. It wasn¡¯t like he had much opportunity to test that hypothesis, though. By the time he was halfway through, he didn¡¯t even need the Dragon¡¯s Bones to tank the duneclaws¡¯ strong tail pincers.

    And then, right as he was about halfway through the bunch:

    Congratulations! You have reached Peak-Novice.

    He¡¯d marveled at the feeling of being¡­ full? That wasn¡¯t exactly the right word, but it was something close to that. This Saturation Point was far stronger than the ones within Novice, and he felt the Resonance within him settle, like it had no more room to grow.

    He could now do a flawless handstand while pushing himself up with a single arm, and his body was so tough that he could throw himself off the highest trees on the island and land with barely a scratch. He could stand completely still in a swarm of duneclaws and come away with only surface wounds, and he was strong enough now to kill even the largest ones in a single blow.

    Maybe most impressive, though, was the fact that the inflammation was almost gone. Bit by bit, as he¡¯d strengthened his body, his condition had gone from a major detriment to his abilities to barely a nuisance. Some days, he couldn¡¯t even feel it at all.

    That lack of pain still felt foreign to him, like new shoes that he still hadn¡¯t quite broken in yet. He¡¯d woken up numerous times over the past couple of weeks expecting it to have gone back to how it had been for years, just as it had after all the other times it¡¯d lessened for a moment. But as the inflammation grew weaker and weaker and Tyler grew stronger and stronger, he began to understand ¡ª at least logically ¡ª that he was actually being healed. The same way that the Aspect of Resilience healed his cuts and scrapes and broken bones, it was slowly making known its treatment of the deep-rooted disease within him.

    And so, invigorated by the influx of strength and good news, he¡¯d gone on the offensive.

    With a body now capable of executing some of the higher martial forms of the Art of the Sandstorm, he became a living hurricane, wreaking havoc on the creatures at such a high rate that he could trigger their mass flight instinct on a daily basis. But he could chase them down, now that he¡¯d advanced another step, and he took great joy in finally turning the tables on these creatures that had harassed him relentlessly for months.

    With the corpses, Tyler had managed to ripen the entirety of his first bulb and begin growing a second one.

    The accumulated Resonance from the last half-week just sat there in his soul, waiting. He couldn¡¯t really use it for anything ¡ª this Saturation Point made his soul actively reject any more Resilience he tried to weave in, but it floated around like a cloud on top of his mana. The more bananas that he ate, the denser the cloud became.

    He¡¯d begun researching what was needed to advance beyond this hurdle, but his Analysis seemed to think that he still didn¡¯t know enough about the subject himself. He pondered the cave carvings and explored his own soul as much as he could during his downtime, but right now the only thing that he could do was keep accumulating Resonance.

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    And he was sure that he was about to accumulate a lot of Resonance, because finally, after months of searching ¡ª he¡¯d found the duneclaw nest.

    ¡°God, I¡¯m thinking of so many nasty things that I could do,¡± Tyler cackled as he eyed the well-hidden crack in the ground from a distant tree. It was covered in loose grass and leaves, and it would have blended right in if it weren¡¯t for the tiny spots of Resilience shining out from within that matched some of the broken magical items that Tyler had found lying around the cave.

    It looked like he wasn¡¯t the only one profiting off of Savadiere¡¯s leftovers.

    He¡¯d been trying to tail one to it since he started being capable of fighting off the swarms, but the creatures seemed to be naturally evasive, burrowing into random places or even straight-up letting themselves die if they noticed they were being followed back to their nest. But he¡¯d realized that they hadn¡¯t evolved in an environment where their blood could be so easily tracked, and so he¡¯d purposefully let a handful of injured ones scurry away to lead him back to their home.

    But as much as he wanted to exact his vengeance right away, for now he¡¯d just watch from a distance.

    It was currently mid-afternoon, so their vision would be working fairly well, and he didn¡¯t want to scare them off from the nest.

    He clutched the Core of Protection in his free hand, tugging at the length of string he¡¯d tied around it to keep it on his chest like a necklace. He prayed that the scent of its magic wouldn¡¯t wake them from their slumbers, but he considered coming back without the Core if it did. It had only activated twice over the past few months, and he was getting more and more confident that he could handle any number of duneclaws.

    Then again¡­

    He thought back to the fight he¡¯d witnessed the day he¡¯d come to the island. Even as strong as he was, he knew for a fact that he¡¯d stand just as little of a chance against either of them now as he would have back when he¡¯d witnessed it.

    No matter how invincible he might have felt against his current enemies, he couldn¡¯t forget that there were always bigger fish in the sea. Who knew if the duneclaws had some kind of nasty surprise waiting for him in there?

    And speaking of seas, he thought as his eyes flashed over to the ever-boiling ocean of chaos surrounding the island. He¡¯d always glimpsed some far-off islands once he¡¯d gotten used to his enhanced vision, and of course there was the constant backdrop of skyscrapers sitting just beneath the liquid¡¯s black-and-violet surface, but he was beginning to see more things in there ¡ª not just buildings and inanimate objects, but creatures that would make him shiver the moment he caught a glimpse of them. Something was going on out there, and he wasn¡¯t sure ¡ª

    He froze, his eyes locked on a particular point in the distance. He was near the center of the island, so he normally wouldn¡¯t have been able to see the ¡®water¡¯ at all, but he was looking from one of the highest trees. Though even with his newly enhanced eyesight, he was doubting his vision.

    There was something out there. And it¡­

    He felt the familiar sense of his Analysis activating.

    The Dimensional Storm is Coming.

    ¡°No. No, fuck. No!¡±

    He jumped down 30 feet from where he was perched and sprinted back to his cave.

    With his newfound strength, his legs ate up the distance like it was nothing, leaving clouds of sand and tufts of kicked up grass behind him as he scrambled along the lush terrain. His surroundings flashed by, and he clenched his jaw as he finally made it to the edge of the sandy area.

    It couldn¡¯t have taken him more than a minute, but that still felt like far too long.

    He wrenched his makeshift door open, panting with exertion. Running alongside the jagged carvings lining the walls, he quickly grabbed at food and weaponry by the handful, piling them all up behind the tree and covering them with the fallen leaves that he¡¯d begun using as blankets and carpets. He didn''t know what they would possibly do against the Storm, but he couldn''t just sit here and do nothing.

    Why was it coming again? Hadn¡¯t it done enough damage the first time?

    Tyler gripped his door-log tight using the two makeshift handles he¡¯d carved into the wood, wedging it into the cave entrance with all the force the Flowing Sands could muster. It didn¡¯t matter if he couldn¡¯t move it back out. He just needed to protect these things.

    Fuck.

    And things were finally going well, too.

    What else should he do? What else could he do? He felt so powerless again, despite the strong magic coursing through his soul. It all felt so ¡ª

    The Dimensional Storm Has Come.

 11: Defiance (2/2)

    First it was the lightning and thunder, then the crash of debris against the waves, and then that stinging mist that effused his surroundings in a purple haze. He''d expected them to come one by one as they had the first time he''d encountered the storm, but he''d barely processed the message before the chaos was completely on top of him.

    His feeble attempts at protection hadn¡¯t even bought him a second.

    Multiversal debris flashed in and out of the cave, swirling and slamming against the walls and his outstretched hands as he fought to protect the tree. Shards of glass and sharp rocks stung as they impacted his skin like falling hail, but Tyler stayed firm, willing his mana into the Dragon¡¯s Bones as he stared through the chaos.

    ¡°Gah!¡±

    A giant, gaping maw flashed into existence in front of him, and he instinctually slammed his fist into it, launching it across the room with the force of his whole body. It was only after the fact that he realized it was just the head of a statue ¡ª the stone crumbled against the opposite wall before flashing out of existence once more.

    ¡°Not now,¡± he spoke through gritted teeth. ¡°Not again.¡±

    A metal pole spun towards him, and Tyler screamed as he slapped it aside.

    He couldn¡¯t do this again. He couldn¡¯t.

    After all this time, he¡¯d finally felt hopeful again. He¡¯d felt like maybe the world did have a sense of justice, that if he¡¯d just kept working at it he could gain the power to write his own destiny. And it had been working, too.

    Crack.

    The sound of reality breaking snapped through the world like a god¡¯s whip.

    A chorus of fierce caws split the air, shaking the island as beings of immense power began to announce themselves. He could feel weight pressing against his soul, like the gravity he¡¯d felt around Savadiere but from every direction at once and wholly unrestrained in its dominance. Every movement, every action, every thought felt like he was fighting through molasses, his lungs struggling to breathe against this suffocating force pressing down against him.

    Through the chaos, he thought he could hear dozens and dozens of duneclaws screeching back at the monstrosity. But the noises were instantly silenced as a wave of energy washed over the island, sending tingles down his spine. Just like that, and they were gone.

    He struggled towards the entrance of the cave, gripping his strongest duneclaw knife in one hand and the core of protection in the other. His pile of supplies had come undone, and now rogue spears and duneclaw jerky were battering against his back, mixing with the stinging of the violet mist in a cacophony of sensations.

    What is this thing? How is it doing this? And how could...

    His eyes widened as his log was instantly wrenched out of place, and he caught a glimpse of one of the creatures through the haze of debris and mist. It was pure white, and so small as to be just a tiny speck in the distance. But with every flap of its wings, it was as if all the trees on the island rippled with its power. It leveled its gaze towards him, and he felt time pause, slower than it had ever before.

    System Boon Engaged: Analysis

    Incarnate Songbird

    These elementals hold sway over all living things. Those that oppose them may find their hearts stopped with a single note.

    Even as he stood still in time, the bird was still slowly flapping its wings, opening its beak to caw in his direction. He had never felt so small, so insignificant before. It was like he was an ant, happening upon the wake of an elephant for the very first time.

    But why was it after him? He hadn''t done anything ¡ª

    The slow rumble of a slow-motion crack filled the air, and he realized his mistake.

    The thing wasn''t after him. It was after the tree.

    Behind him, the stone floor of the cave had cracked, sending iridescent light shining onto the stone walls and carvings that surrounded it. The banana tree was trembling, its leaves flashing bright green as if in alarm.

    No! Tyler mentally screamed as a torrent of magic slowly poured from the bird, grasping the massive tree like the invisible hand of a giant. No!

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    As time resumed, a wave of force barreled into him like a speeding train, passing through him in a violent woosh before impacting the tree.

    Crack.

    He was lying on his back, his head spinning from the impact. But he could feel the ground trembling as he struggled back to his feet. The tiny pinpricks from the mist seemed to intensify.

    ¡°No¡­¡±

    It¡¯s going to kill me without even noticing that I¡¯m here.

    Tyler pushed himself back to his feet. What could he ¡ª

    ¡°Fuck!¡±

    Another wave caught him in the chest, and it was only due to his weeks of constant practice that the Dragon¡¯s Bones dampened the blow enough for him to keep his bearings.

    The tree was being wrenched out of the ground, though. It furiously shook, branches snapping from its vast canopy as the plant strained against the pull of the monster.

    Woosh. Another wave. He just barely managed to keep standing.

    But slowly, cracks were spreading throughout the floor.

    No.

    Before his conscious mind could catch up, his feet were already moving. His long gait ate up the terrain in seconds, propelling him towards the thing even as the pressure clung onto him like thick cobwebs. Grass flashed by, then trees, then sand.

    Another burst of force slammed into him, and he took it on crossed arms, stumbling for just a moment before he was back to sprinting towards the thing. He could taste salt in his mouth, rendered airborne by the churning sea.

    Within breaths, he was at the edge of the beach, his feet digging deep crevices into the sand with each step. The bird was hovering off the shore, its attention still completely locked onto the tree.

    ¡°Leave me the fuck alone!¡±

    Tyler¡¯s feet touched down on the edge of the water, and he jumped.

    He wasn¡¯t going to make it.

    But as he soared through the air, the Flowing Sands thrashing through him with all the force his Peak-Novice mana could muster, he realized that he had known that all along.

    His knife trailed behind him, clutched tightly in his hand as he wound his arm backwards as far as it could go. And behind all the training and practice that had consumed his new life, he hurled the thing towards the bird.

    Tyler crashed into the roiling water with a tremendous splash.

    The purple mist felt even more powerful in the water, the closeness of the cosmic ocean causing the energy to flow through him like a tide just barely restrained by a collapsing dam. The Core of Protection unfurled, blocking out the swirling debris and the attacks that he knew would be coming from the bird. But even still, the waves buffeted him, and it was all he could do to keep himself going upwards.

    But as he surfaced, he knew that his aim would have been true. Except¡­

    No.

    The knife was still hovering midair, just inches away from the bird. And for the first time, he felt the full weight of its attention.

    The Core of Protection cracked.

    His muscles seized, spasms running through him as the pressure on his soul tripled in an instant. From the edge of his skin to the marrow deep inside his bones, every cell in his body quivered with the onslaught as his body fought to keep itself from falling apart.

    With every flap of its wings, a violent song crashed against his very being. The very same technique that had slaughtered dozens of duneclaws was now pressing against him, growing tighter and tighter by the second. He was getting buffeted closer to the edge of the cosmic ocean, the power of the Dimensional Storm hurting almost as much as the creature¡¯s attacks.

    Tyler coughed up a mouthful of bubbles, only for it to be replaced with a suffocating chill as his mouth filled with cold, salty water.

    No air. No escape.

    He was dying, he knew. The thing¡¯s magic was already mangling his body, pressurizing his blood and crushing the air from his lungs. His heart was slowing to a stop, straining painfully as the force around it redoubled with every beat.

    But even as his vision blurred and his fingertips grew numb, he felt that little flame of emotion grow hotter and hotter within him.

    Every moment of his life he¡¯d bowed to the whims of the universe, huddled in the shadows in a desperate bid to survive. He was done letting the world take from him as it pleased. He refused to let this thing win.

    Tyler roared as he surfaced, his hands gripping onto something despite the lack of anything solid around him as he willed Resilience through himself, spinning that deep cyclone of mana in his core and straining with all his might against the bird''s pressure.

    You will not take this. You will not take everything that I have worked for. You will not steal this new life that I have built.

    His muscles fought against the immense power locking them in place, twitching and tearing as they shucked the fibres of oppressive magic one by one. His eyes fluttered open, and he glared straight at the bright white monster hovering above him, blood dripping from his mouth but his jaw set firm.

    With every ounce of his being, he screamed in defiance, crashing his indomitable will against the weight of a cruel and uncaring world.

    And his body responded, ripping through the chains of magic woven through his limbs ¡ª

    And then all he knew was a world of black and violet.

    <hr>

    But unbeknownst to him, as Tyler¡¯s heart sputtered to a stop and the breaths died from his lips, that cyclone of Resilience within him was finally reaching a tipping point. Resonance bloomed in his soul from all sides, mixing with the dense cloud that already suffused every inch of his soul. And as he floated there in that space between worlds, blood still and the Core of Protection hanging broken from his neck, his Resilience condensed into a hard, dense mass deep in the center of his core.

    And as the last strands of his life began to fray away, the energy came flooding back outwards.

    Congratulations! You have advanced to Journeyman.

 12: Reawakening

    Tyler came back to life in a flash of panic and desperation.

    His body jerked awake, the breaths coming quick on his lips as he tasted sweet air after brushing inches away from death.

    Holy shit, holy shit. Where am I? Where''s the bird? Am I dying?

    The surge of thoughts came at a million miles per second, the emotions flooding back as he replayed the memories one by one. He needed to get back to the island. He needed to protect the tree. He needed to ¡ª

    A wave of pain crashed through him as he tried to get into a sitting position.

    Fuck.

    The agony shot through his swollen joints like a thousand tiny needles, the sharp, red-hot torment grating against his nerves in a horrendous bout of sensation. The inflammation was back, like it had never even left.

    Because of course it was.

    And what was worse was what he saw as he looked down at himself. His limbs were absolutely emaciated ¡ª his skin stretched pale and thin against his bones, his veins standing out garishly as they traced along his thin arms. All the muscle that he¡¯d put on from his intense training on the island was just gone. As he brought a hand gingerly to his chest, he could feel the clear outline of each rib going down his torso.

    Tyler grimaced, taking in the cold gray room that he¡¯d ended up in. He was in a bed. Surrounded by walls of decorative gray tiles, and with plastic blinds covering a tinted glass window across the room.

    Somehow, he was back in civilization. In some random office building, wearing what almost looked like a hospital gown. Suddenly, fear began to well up in his throat.

    He felt weak, not at all like the person who could leap from thirty-foot trees and fight off dozens of duneclaws at once.

    It was like all those months of training and cultivation had simply disappeared.

    The inflammation seemed to eat at him, like acid slowly corroding away at his strength in body and mind alike. This was too familiar. Far too familiar. Just like after the car crash, after that horrible moment where his entire life had gone to shit.

    And he didn¡¯t even have any magical bananas to help him.

    He didn¡¯t have much of anything, really. His old, grimy pajamas were gone. His weapons were gone. The pouch he kept on his waistband with all his collected trinkets was gone. And the Core of Protection¡­

    ¡°God dammit,¡± he muttered.

    Of course, it was gone too. That connection that he felt with it was thin and frayed, so distant as to almost be invisible.

    ¡°Why? Why does this always happen to me.¡±

    Of course, the moment he¡¯d finally found some success. The moment he¡¯d settled into his new life, the moment he¡¯d been about to master the island. That was when the Storm had come, tearing it all away.

    And now he was left in the same old place as always ¡ª weak and broken, without any of the things that had previously empowered him.

    The Core of Protection had saved his life countless times. It was like a safety blanket for him, a guarantee that no matter what he dived into, he would have a last resort. And it was the only thing he had tracing back to the man who¡¯d changed his life.

    And now it was gone.

    ¡°Fuck!¡± he spat, slamming his palm against the wall ¡ª

    Crack.

    ¡°... what?¡±

    His hand hurt. That wasn¡¯t the surprising part ¡ª it had hurt even before he¡¯d hammered the wall with it. What was surprising was that despite this being a weak hit from an awkward angle, fueled by frustration rather than any genuine desire to cause damage¡­

    The wall had broken.

    Right where his palm had been, there was now a five-fingered hole. The cracked decorative tiles slowly fell away, revealing the damaged drywall underneath.

    ¡°Did I do that?¡±

    Tyler clenched his fists. They felt so weak, and yet he knew for a fact that he hadn¡¯t been this strong before. If he¡¯d put all his strength into it, with technique and a better angle, he could have probably done something like that. But without even trying?

    He Analyzed himself.

    Congratulations. You have advanced to Journeyman.

    ¡°Journeyman,¡± he muttered.

    Tyler had struggled for weeks to figure out what the secret was to advancement. He hadn¡¯t been able to figure it out, despite the countless hours of poring over the Ancestors¡¯ Carvings and his own soul. But now¡­

    He¡¯d done it.

    At the realization, it was as if someone had popped the growing balloon of worry and defeat inflating in his chest. He wasn¡¯t back at square one. His time on the island hadn¡¯t been some weird dream or vision.

    In fact, he was even stronger than before.

    He laughed, the whirlwind of emotions and life-or-death tension slowly bleeding from his mind. He was a Journeyman now ¡ª the same stage as a Reaman Warrior. And he could still advance even further. He could get so strong that even that fucking bird wouldn¡¯t be able to do anything to him.

    He wondered what had triggered it.

    ¡°Was it my fight with the bird? Going into the Storm again? Or¡­ almost dying?¡±

    And now that he thought about it, while the inflammation was bad, it still had to be better than what he¡¯d dealt with before his Awakening. And given just how mangled he remembered his body being before he blacked out, that was something he could be immensely thankful for.

    Advancement solves all issues. That was a Reaman proverb that he¡¯d had spinning around in his head for a while now. He¡¯d found that while it wasn¡¯t quite all the way true, it certainly made a hell of a difference. Not to mention the sheer increase in power that Journeyman signified.

    He dove into his inner self, marveling at just how deep his core felt now. It wasn¡¯t just the volume, but the density of his mana that was incomparable to any increase he¡¯d gotten from the advancement steps within Novice. He settled into the Flowing Sands, slowly drawing this newfound power out into his body. It felt so strong now, ready to be used ¡ª

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    His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps outside the door.

    Knock. Knock. Knock.

    ¡°Hello? Were you the source of that noise?¡± A cautious masculine voice sounded from outside the room.

    Oh shit.

    ¡°Y-yeah! Sorry ¡ª one second!¡±

    Tyler forced himself out of bed, groaning as he nearly toppled over. It wasn¡¯t just the inflammation ¡ª his body felt unwieldy, every motion taking him further than he was used to, overcorrections spawning more overcorrections as he struggled to find his balance.

    Hah, I might need a cane again.

    But with a bit more help from the Flowing Sands, he managed to stumble over to the door. He opened it, revealing a bland hallway illuminated by shards of magical light.

    ¡°What were you doing?¡± A tall redheaded man asked as he surveyed Tyler with an expression of concern. The man was wearing a thick coat and a knife on his belt, and he winced as he looked down at Tyler¡¯s emaciated limbs.

    Brandon Frie - Aspect of Wind

    A person. That¡¯s the first other person I¡¯ve seen in months. He also has an Aspect.

    ¡°Sorry. I was just¡­ uh.¡±

    There was so much he wanted to say. So much he wanted to ask. His voice felt weird after months of disuse.

    The man walked up to him, extending a hand. He had a subtle pressure around him, like a hyper-minimized version of what the bird and Savadiere had.

    ¡°Must¡¯ve been disorienting, waking up in some random room. But try to keep quiet around here, alright? This is our residential district, and we have other refugees recovering in some of the surrounding rooms.¡±

    ¡°Right, right. Sorry, I¡¯m still trying to ¡ª¡±

    Tyler stumbled as he tried to meet the handshake.

    As he attempted to right himself, he felt a pair of meaty hands grasp at his shoulders. ¡°Shoot, my bad. You''re injured, and you¡¯ve been out cold for two weeks. I should have come over to you. I¡¯m Brandon, by the way.¡±

    Brandon lifted him like he was a doll, setting him next to the bed once more.

    Tyler blinked in surprise. He supposed the strength of a Journeyman didn¡¯t change the fact that you weren¡¯t even a hundred pounds.

    But then the man pushed down on his shoulders to get him to sit, and he realized that he could barely feel the pressure. It was like he was faced with a gentle breeze, not the force of a dude almost a foot taller than him. He knew the guy wasn¡¯t using anywhere near his full strength¡­ but Tyler wasn¡¯t even trying to keep standing.

    After a moment of stillness, Tyler purposefully sat down.

    Brandon patted him on the shoulder. ¡°Don¡¯t do anything too strenuous, alright? Trust me, I saw the state you were in right after we found you.¡±

    Tyler nodded, but internally, he was preparing to do something strenuous the moment he had the chance.

    Even though it hurt to move, he felt an urge to run, to jump, to punch through a tree and punt a duneclaw through the stratosphere. This change felt bigger than anything he¡¯d ever seen before, and that little advancement gremlin in his head was shouting that he needed to test his limits, right now. But first, he found the question-asking part of his brain had finally righted itself.

    ¡°Right. Of course. Uh, but can you tell me where I am? You¡¯re actually the first person I¡¯ve seen in months.¡±

    The guy nodded. ¡°Ah. Yeah, that makes sense. We¡¯ll get you all up to speed¡­ but I think I should get someone else before we get into that.¡±

    He turned to walk down the hallway, but another redhead had already appeared in the doorway ¡ª the woman was short and wore a slight smirk, with a crossbow slung over her shoulder. The two looked similar enough that he wondered if they were siblings.

    Lisa Frie - Aspect of Blood

    ¡°Lisa.¡±

    ¡°Hey! How¡¯s that guy doing? Is he ¡ª¡±

    Her expression froze as she glanced over to him, her mouth opening to form a big ¡®O.¡¯

    ¡°He¡¯s awake,¡± Brandon said dryly.

    ¡°Oh.¡± She blinked once, then twice. ¡°Oh shit! You survived. Heck yeah, dude!¡±

    She extended a hand for a high five, and Tyler awkwardly met it from his position on the bed.

    ¡°I¡¯m Lisa. Peak-Novice. Man, you really made it! You were almost dead out there ¡ª like, seriously minutes away. Holy shit, I¡¯m kinda proud of myself. My magic is usually better at short-term stabilization than long-term healing.¡±

    ¡°Ouch, yeah. I must have been in a pretty bad state.¡± Tyler winced. ¡°Thanks for picking me up, though. It¡¯s nice to meet you two ¡ª I¡¯m Tyler.¡±

    He didn¡¯t want to think about just how close he¡¯d come to death against the bird. Maybe he had died, even? The memories all blended together at the end, like a giant whirlwind of pain and emotion.

    Then he realized what she¡¯d said. Peak-Novice.

    She¡¯s strong. At least, strong by his standards.

    And now that he was looking, he could see there was an uncommon amount of Resilience gathered around her ¡ª around both of them, really. That pressure around her was slightly stronger than Brandon¡¯s, but not by much.

    He gulped.

    If she was a Peak-Novice, he could only imagine how powerful those birds had been.

    ¡°Oh, here!¡± Lisa put her hand on his chest, and he felt something warm wash over him. ¡°That should help a bit.¡±

    He breathed just a tad easier as his inflammation dimmed. It felt similar to the healing from the bananas, but while that had been a wave of rushing relief, this was more like a total-body hot compress. He could feel her magic spooling through his veins, kneading slightly at his muscles. It was a minor effect, but just the fact that it had happened was blowing his mind.

    I¡¯m with other people again. Other people with magic.

    The thought felt so strange. It was like he¡¯d woken up from a dream, only to find that it hadn¡¯t been a dream at all.

    Tyler opened his mouth to thank her, but he paused as he saw her staring intensely at his chest.

    ¡°Man, this is so weird. I can sense you¡¯re hurt, but your blood is healthy. Did you take any steroids or something after we dropped you off? Two weeks ago, it was all like Help! I¡¯m on the verge of death and if you don¡¯t give me all of your magic this instant I¡¯ll just stop flowing to his brain. But now¡­ phew! I would not wanna be a virus trying to attack you.¡±

    Tyler felt a grin creep onto his face. ¡°That¡¯s good to know.¡±

    And that was a good point, actually. Going from washing his hands a dozen times a day to being stuck inside a cave and eating alien bug meat felt like a great way to get sick, but he¡¯d felt perfectly fine ever since he¡¯d arrived on the island. Was that the Resilience as well?

    Brandon rolled his eyes from beside them. ¡°Anyways, now that you¡¯ve met my dumbass sister ¡ª¡±

    ¡°Hey!¡±

    ¡°¡ª we¡¯re from the 21st Branch of the Stormchasers, out on the southern side of our organization¡¯s territory. We found you unconscious in a pile of debris not too far from here.¡±

    ¡°Stormchasers,¡± Tyler muttered. ¡°That wouldn¡¯t be the Dimensional Storm that you¡¯re chasing, would it?¡±

    Lisa giggled, and Brandon gave a low snort as the siblings exchanged looks.

    She walked past Tyler, moving to the window and yanking the blinds up. ¡°See for yourself.¡±

    Tyler gulped. ¡°Holy shit.¡±

    It was as if someone had taken the prototypical city and carved off the top to make it a perfect waffle texture. Skyscrapers upon skyscrapers lined the horizon in neat straight lines, connected with bridges so densely packed between them that they almost formed a mesh. And scattered among them were the eye-catching rooftops of foreign structures with wholly different architecture, from man-sized crystalline bulbs lined with spikes to enormous temples that strongly reminded him of Ancient Greece.

    Tyler was suddenly reminded that the cave he had spent all his time in until now was from an alien world.

    Were any of these structures from Korshaan, he wondered? What about that world where the seagulls came from? And what of the peoples who built these ruins?

    To his right was an enormous tangle of vines wrapped around the neighboring building, and to his left what looked to be a fusion between a medieval tower and a modern luxury hotel. Something that looked like a mountain loomed in the distance, spilling water from a ginormous waterfall that originated from who-knows-where.

    And as he went up to the window and looked down, he saw the churning of dark violet waves lapping against the bottoms of the buildings dozens of feet below them.

    He¡¯d seen the skyscrapers under the water next to the island, but he hadn¡¯t realized that they led to this.

    A flash of light burst out in the distance, and he saw something blue and transparent form in mid-air, just in time to block a massive fireball shooting towards their building. The attack burst against the barrier with a sharp crack, expanding outwards into a rain of embers that slowly drifted downwards into the chaotic sea.

    ¡°Wow¡­¡± Tyler gasped. ¡°What the fuck?¡±

    Brandon chuckled behind him. ¡°So, any questions?¡±

 13: The 21st Branch (1/2)

    ¡°No current belongings, no previous organizations¡­ Okay. Have you Awakened an Aspect?¡± the young woman in front of him asked in a complete monotone.

    Tyler¡¯s Analysis called her Emery Ellis. No Aspect, though she did have an aura. Was she hiding it somehow?

    ¡°Yeah, the Aspect of Resilience?¡± Tyler replied, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. ¡°I, uh, I¡¯m actually a ¡ª¡±

    ¡°Flare your aura.¡±

    ¡°Huh?¡±

    ¡°I said, flare your aura.¡±

    ¡°Uh. I don¡¯t know how ¡ª¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t know how. Right,¡± the lady said, as if that were the most unbelievable thing in the world.

    On a laminated white badge, she wrote ¡®UNAWAKENED: EVACUATE FIRST¡¯ in big, bold letters. ¡°Wear this at all times. Give it back immediately if you Awaken an Aspect. It¡¯s against the rules to keep wearing it after Awakening.¡±

    ¡°Wait. I don¡¯t know if that¡¯s ¡ª¡±

    ¡°Next!¡± she called, physically pushing Tyler¡¯s head to the side so she could see the person behind him.

    Tyler slumped, standing back up and weaving through the small line of people behind him to walk back to where Lisa and Brandon were waiting. A couple of people gave him sympathetic glances as he reluctantly put the badge around his neck.

    Brandon gave him a pat on the shoulder. ¡°I know she can be a bit¡­ one-track, but it¡¯s good that you registered with a representative and got your evacuation badge. We haven¡¯t needed to evacuate in quite some time, but in the case that we do, everyone should respect that and help defend you as you try to get away from danger.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s good to have¡­¡± Tyler trailed off, trying to figure out if he should even try to bring up the fact that he had Awakened, and it was just that there was a magic Curse from a magic banana that he¡¯d gotten from a magic alien that was probably resulting in his lack of magical signature.

    It seemed everyone had an aura over here ¡ª that subtle spiritual pressure that he¡¯d first felt from Savadiere in those last moments before he¡¯d gotten locked in the cave, and then again with those horrible birds that had come when the Storm had hit him for the second time.

    He supposed that it was a pretty universal thing, so much so that nobody had even asked if he had any magic ¡ª they¡¯d just assumed he hadn¡¯t. But wouldn¡¯t their Analysis have told them that he had the Aspect of Resilience? Why had the representative needed to ask him about that?

    Unless they didn¡¯t have such a thing?

    ¡°I dunno why we even need her,¡± Lisa muttered. She was looking intently at the left side of Tyler¡¯s chest, where he assumed his heart was, and then back at the white badge with a squint. ¡°All she does is take inventory all day. The Eye of the Main Branch is so pretentious, too ¡ª it sounds like some title we¡¯d find in a cultivation manual, but she just made it up!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s the official term that the Main Branch uses, Lisa,¡± Brandon said with a sigh. ¡°We¡¯ve been over this.¡±

    ¡°Well I think it¡¯s dumb, just like how they steal our cultivation manuals ¡ª¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re not stealing them ¡ª¡±

    ¡°And I think she¡¯s wrong on top of all that! Isn¡¯t that right, Tyler?¡±

    Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    Tyler blinked. ¡°Huh?¡±

    ¡°About you.¡±

    He hadn¡¯t even gotten the time to process the statement before Brandon shook his head and dragged them down the hall and into a larger room. ¡°Anyways, we¡¯re about to head to the pantries. We source our food from a couple of magical farms scattered around this base, and some edible monster meat gets added¡­¡±

    She was talking about my Awakening, right?

    He nodded to her as they tailed Brandon through the sterile corporate halls given character by the magic of their new residents. He wasn¡¯t sure what the best way to bring it up was, but he appreciated that someone had his back. Then again, maybe it was a good thing that everyone else didn¡¯t know his true capabilities ¡ª he was still getting a feel for this little community he¡¯d found himself in.

    So he let himself get swept back up in the tour, that sense of wonder coming back to him as he marveled at just how incredible it was being back not just with people, but with a whole small community of people with magic.

    It turned out that a lot had happened for the rest of the world while he¡¯d been stuck on the island.

    Common theory was that the Dimensional Storm had enveloped the Earth, breaking off pieces of it and melding them together with chunks of other worlds into this strange landscape that they now saw.

    The mini-continent where they resided was less than two hundred miles across, and surrounded by deep ¡®cosmic ocean¡¯ on every side. It was split into many different environments, and there were islands all around it as far as the eye could see.

    The aptly-named Flooded City was wrapped around most of the edge of the mainland ¡ª a sort of concrete swamp bridging ¡®open water¡¯ and the overgrown suburb biome that occupied most of the center of the continent. It seemed the entire mainland was built of human-made environments, but twisted in some way or another. And of course, the Dimensional Storm was constantly dropping chunks of other worlds into the fray.

    A great number of people had died in the first couple of days as the remnants of humanity struggled to fight magical enemies without the technology they¡¯d grown accustomed to, but some had taken to this life very well, just as Tyler had. Because along with threats, the chunks of other worlds also brought gifts ¡ª tools, weapons, magic.

    After a month, almost every remaining person had Awakened some sort of Aspect within them, and factions had begun to form as people gathered up into groups and conquered this new world piece by piece. They scavenged training resources and cultivation manuals from the ruins of alien civilizations, allowing them to advance along this strange new path to power.

    The siblings had seemed surprised when Tyler had told them that he didn¡¯t know of the Stormchasers. Doubly so when he also hadn¡¯t known about either of the other two major factions ¡ª the Crimson Tide and the Central Coalition, he thought they¡¯d said. Apparently the three factions¡¯ combined territory stretched across most of the landmass, and the vast majority of survivors chose to cozy up with one of them, either through directly joining or through forming an alliance. That was actually how the 21st Branch was started ¡ª they¡¯d just been a band of survivors, and the Stormchasers had come and annexed them.

    Tyler was surprised at how offhand Brandon had made the annexation seem, but apparently it had been a net benefit for them. The people around here had been split up and scared, barely scraping by against the horrors that haunted this place before the Stormchasers came.

    ¡°They gave us a banner to gather under, and they protected us against the monsters when we were still weak. Then even raised one of our own to Journeyman ¡ª she¡¯s now our Branch Leader.¡± Brandon smiled at that. ¡°We owe our lives to them, even if the Main Branch can be¡­ overbearing at times.¡±

    The thought of three human factions dominating the continent felt weird to Tyler, though. Especially if a sole Journeyman was enough to lead a group of two hundred people. That was the same advancement as him. Surely others like Savadiere must have dwarfed any human who had only started cultivating a couple months ago, right?

    ¡°What about the aliens?¡± He asked them probingly. ¡°Aren¡¯t they incredibly powerful?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, duh. That¡¯s why we gotta get stronger ourselves,¡± Lisa smirked.

    ¡°No, I mean¡­ like don¡¯t they have factions too? How are humans taking over everything here?¡±

    ¡°Oh. That¡¯s because the aliens aren¡¯t here.¡± Brandon answered with a pensive frown. ¡°Well, I mean alien monsters are, obviously. You can¡¯t walk five feet here without stepping onto something that wants to tear your face off. But the people who built those temples, who wrote those cultivation manuals? Not a lick ¡ª at least not that we know of, here in this little backwoods area. It really makes you think, doesn¡¯t it? What are the chances that from all those clearly thriving civilizations, not one person gets transported here?¡±

    None of them have met an alien. Not like Savadiere.

    He had half a mind to tell them about his experience, but he held his tongue. He still understood far too little about how things worked here.

    But as they began to show him around, Lisa blabbing on endlessly and Brandon exasperatedly trying to keep them on task, he couldn''t help but like them.

 13: The 21st Branch (2/2)

    The 21st Branch lived in a skyscraper that jutted out a couple of floors higher than the rest, painted electric blue and graffitied all over with their crossed lightning bolt symbol. It was like a symbol of their survival, of the more than two hundred scavengers living there, milling about and weathering this new world together.

    They had a basic trade infrastructure going courtesy of the Main Branch, and parties of explorers could go out and claim goods in this vast concrete jungle. Resources here were scarcer due to the Storm¡¯s relative absence, but in their eyes, that was more than a fair trade for the stability that came with it.

    ¡°People are really getting used to this life,¡± Lisa said with a grin. ¡°It¡¯s crazy how much we¡¯ve grown in the past couple of months.¡±

    Tyler wanted to ask more about what it had been like at the start of the apocalypse, but his two tour guides had already moved on, introducing him to their cafeteria. It was an enormous thing ¡ª clearly meant to serve the hordes of office workers that would have worked in this building in the old world ¡ª and a section of it was currently packed with people for lunch.

    ¡°Hey Brandon!¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s up Lisa!¡±

    ¡°Hey! Are you with a new refugee?¡±

    As the two siblings made quick conversation with the people around them, Tyler took in the crowd. They were a lot like the Flooded City, in a way ¡ª they wore a mishmash of garments, with mostly-human clothes accentuated by bits and pieces of distinctly alien design.

    A typical T-shirt and jeans, but with an engraved bronze buckler on one arm. A pair of purple crocs sticking out from underneath a long, elegant robe that screamed wizard. And of course, everyone had some sort of weapon.

    Tyler could feel the Resilience permeating the room, suffusing every person they met. None of them seemed to be attuned to it, but everyone was rich with it, tiny specks of Resonance blooming within them as they went about their days. And then there was the magic they were attuned to.

    They ranged from the typical things ¡ª like manipulation of fire or earth ¡ª to more exotic ones, like a man who could control ink and only ink, or a little girl who could press her hands against anything and suddenly make it weigh half as much.

    They''re all sending their mana outside of their bodies, Tyler realized.

    Like Savadiere had said, his Curse would lock him out of feats that everyone else found trivial. He couldn¡¯t imagine what an outward-focused Resilience technique would look like, but it still stung that he¡¯d never be able to do one.

    And Tyler could feel the weight of their gazes as he trailed Brandon and Lisa. At first he was self-conscious about his lack of shoes and clearly hospital-inspired attire, but he saw a couple of other recovering refugees that were wearing similar things around the place. No ¡ª he realized the thing that made him stand out was his lack of aura, and the big badge on his chest proclaiming that weakness to the world.

    Some gave him looks of pity, while others seemed to veer closer to judgement ¡ª as if he were just a freeloader, mooching off of their hard work while not giving anything back. And he supposed that made sense ¡ª the only people he saw with the same badge as him were children, and even then it seemed like the average kid leaned more towards having magic than not.

    These are survivors, at the end of the day. The ones without sufficient talent or determination probably all died out by the first couple of weeks. I¡¯m an anomaly to them.

    Even after Tyler had decided to stash his badge in his pocket, someone had still confronted them in the halls ¡ª a crabby old woman with an aura of similar strength to Brandon¡¯s, muttering about wasted resources and charity cases. It wasn¡¯t until Lisa had come up behind her and told her to kindly fuck off that the woman had left.

    He realized that the apocalypse had transformed this little microculture to mirror that of the Reamans, in a certain way. He saw the slight deference that most gave to Lisa over Brandon, despite the former¡¯s whimsical nature and the latter¡¯s seeming leadership of their little group. Even the old lady had backed away the moment she¡¯d recognized someone of superior strength.

    Then again, maybe it was more accurate to say that the circumstances had simply amplified the more brutal side to humanity that had always been resting in their cultural subconscious. He supposed he could have imagined similar scenarios playing out back in the old world, if he just replaced magical power with net worth, or status.

    Advancement solves all issues.

    Still, he couldn¡¯t feel too bad about it all. Especially not when he was presented with a still-hot tray of roasted cassava and thick, meaty stew.

    Tyler had never appreciated a meal more in all his life. How long had it been since he¡¯d had proper, home-cooked, human food? Sure, the soup might have had some strange orange chunks in it that his Analysis defined as Helythrean Brinebulbs, but on the whole it tasted like home. Like Earth.

    And best of all, he hadn¡¯t had to kill something to get it.

    That was the greatest part of being part of a group, wasn¡¯t it? The companionship. The collaboration. Not having to do everything yourself.

    Lisa seemed to echo his thoughts as she flicked a thumb back to Brandon. ¡°It¡¯s nice having people around, isn¡¯t it? With this guy at my back, our party is one of the best that our branch can field. We¡¯re like a one-two punch, y¡¯know? He goes in with the wind magic like pow! And then I go in with my crossbow, like pew pew pew. There¡¯s this other guy that shoots watermelons at things, and¡­ well, he¡¯s in the middle of pivoting to farming. But the point is, the 21st Branch has gone the last four months with minimal casualties, and if it weren¡¯t for ¡ª¡±

    Brandon coughed. ¡°We¡¯re currently dealing with a pretty big monster breakout just a few miles out from here. That¡¯s where that fireball attack we saw earlier came from. If we¡¯re not able to gain an advantage soon, we¡¯ll be forced to beg the Main Branch for assistance.¡±

    ¡°Wow,¡± Tyler said through bites of food. I wonder how strong those people would be.

    He was about to ask when Brandon¡¯s eyes widened.

    A large shadow landed on the table, and a meaty hand slapped onto Tyler¡¯s shoulder.

    ¡°Well, well, well.¡±

    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    Tyler turned, looking up to see a large man with a shaggy beard sneering at him.

    Everett Brown - Aspect of Iron

    He was tall ¡ª even taller than Brandon ¡ª and built like a bear in every sense of the word. He held a beer in one hand, and Tyler fought a grimace as the smell of alcohol wafted over him.

    A frat bro type. Maybe even a current one, given that he might¡¯ve been the same age as Tyler himself.

    ¡°Holy shit. It really is another one.¡±

    The large man turned his head, shouting back into the crowd. ¡°John, look at this, bro! A no-magic newbie! This one¡¯s a midget!¡±

    Another shout came from across the room, and Everett guffawed, slapping his leg as the motion of his body shook Tyler in his seat. ¡°I thought your kind had gone extinct by now, little guy! But every time we think there aren¡¯t going to be any more, another one pops up! Man, I should have known when I saw you brought in a refugee, Brandy.¡±

    Brandon was scowling, his fingers clenched just a little tighter around his spoon than they needed to be.

    ¡°Mind your own business, Rhett.¡± Lisa stood up, flipping him the bird. ¡°Go back to, like, staring lecherously at Sophie from the healing bay until she reports you again.¡±

    Rhett¡¯s nostrils flared, and he placed another hand on Tyler¡¯s shoulder with a chortle. "Welcome to the branch, little dude. Feel free to ask me any questions ¡ª me and my boys are going places a hell of a lot higher than these two carrot heads. We might even let you be our beer boy if you ask nicely enough."

    ¡°Please don¡¯t touch me,¡± Tyler muttered.

    Lisa was glaring daggers at Rhett now, and another man was making his way over, wearing a cruel lopsided smile as he sized up their little party.

    Tyler let out an annoyed huff. He didn¡¯t know nearly enough about how people acted here to know what was going on, but somehow, he was reminded of his middle school cafeteria. These were people experienced in combat ¡ª would they come to physical blows? Brandon was looking fidgety, and ¡ª

    Someone clapped loudly at the entrance of the cafeteria. It was a middle-aged woman holding a fancy golden staff topped with crystals, thick glasses fading into her poofy short-cropped hair.

    Alberta Richardson - Aspect of Shielding

    ¡°Attention, everyone!¡± the woman shouted. She stood as straight as could be, despite the sweat lining her brow and the noticeable bags under her bloodshot eyes.

    Rhett scoffed and took off, bumping forcefully into Brandon as he did so. Lisa looked like she was about to say something at that last barb, but she and Brandon collected themselves as the talking began to die down.

    ¡°What an asshole, right?¡± Lisa whispered. ¡°I swear if he ¡ª¡±

    Brandon interrupted her. ¡°That¡¯s our Branch Leader, Alberta. She¡¯s cool.¡±

    The Journeyman.

    Tyler could feel her aura from here, a subtle force that brushed against his soul despite the distance. Not as strong as the bird¡¯s, but definitely closer than anyone else¡¯s. That''s what his aura should have felt like.

    He watched as she passed her gaze over the room, her eyebrows raising slightly when they got to their little group. Tyler tried to meet her gaze, but she¡¯d already moved on.

    Was she just noticing that someone new had shown up, or was there more there?

    Next to her were two others. The first was the representative he¡¯d spoken to ¡ª a short woman maybe a little older than he was, wearing a pure-white robe and staring forwards with an impassive expression.

    Brandon pointed a finger at her. ¡°You remember Emery, the Eye of the Main Branch. She¡¯s normally next to Alberta whenever anything important happens.¡±

    ¡°I dunno why she always has to be there.¡± Lisa blew a strand of hair out of her face as her brother successfully distracted her from the encounter that had just happened. ¡°All she does is take inventory of everything, and I mean everything. Even refugees. I don¡¯t know why she insists on taking refugees for screening before we¡¯re even allowed to bring them in for healing ¡ª the delay could have killed you, Tyler!¡±

    ¡°Taking inventory is an important thing,¡± Brandon nudged Lisa with an elbow. ¡°Don¡¯t judge.¡±

    By then the chatter had died down, and Tyler noticed that while his gaze had been drawn to the Eye of the Main Branch, the rest of the room had eyes solely for the tall young man standing next to Alberta, holding a fancy chef¡¯s platter with an upside-down bowl on top.

    Reagan West - Aspect of Stone

    Tyler hadn¡¯t paid much attention to him since he didn¡¯t have any fun alien decorations adorning him, but now he noticed that despite his height, this guy must have been even younger than he was.

    Like an early highschooler, maybe. Barely more than a kid.

    Alberta cleared her throat. ¡°21st Branch! I hope everyone has been having a prosperous day. I know that these past couple of weeks have been hard on us, but we¡¯ve held the line admirably this week. The skeletons seem to have given their biggest push this morning, so we expect the next couple of days to have less conflict than we¡¯re used to. If we keep this up, we won¡¯t have to call in a favor from the Main Branch!¡±

    A chorus of cheers sprouted through the room at that last sentence, and Lisa leaned in to whisper in Tyler¡¯s ear. ¡°Everyone is happy because to get any help from the Main Branch, we¡¯d have to give up almost half of all the resources we¡¯ve accumulated up until this point. Which is so dumb, right? Like, what¡¯s even the point of annexation if we still need to pay to get protection? And they steal all our Journeymen ¡ª¡±

    ¡°Shush, Lisa. Let him hear what they¡¯re saying,¡± Brandon chided her.

    Tyler only had a brief moment to think about all that before Emery started speaking, as monotone as ever. ¡°As a reminder, the Vice President overseeing our sector has promised a powerful defensive treasure from his personal collection to anyone who can find and exterminate the root of the outbreak. Let this drive you to increase your efforts in fighting the invasion.¡±

    ¡°Right, because we were clearly just slacking around when the motivator was not dying.¡± Lisa rolled her eyes.

    But Tyler could see that she still perked up at the mention of the reward. Everyone had ¡ª including him.

    What would a treasure from this guy¡¯s personal collection look like? Would it be stronger than the Core of Protection? Would I even be able to use it?

    But then his thoughts were interrupted as the boy stepped up and the entire room went silent.

    Alberta cleared her throat. ¡°And today, I have a very special announcement to make.¡±

    The woman gestured to the boy beside her with a proud smile. ¡°Reagan here has been with us for two months now, since one of our teams found him and his sister fending for themselves in a building on the outskirts of our scavenging zones. He came to us without an Aspect, and with his leg wrapped up to cover a nasty infected wound from a terrorbeak. A month ago, our healers cleared him for training.¡±

    ¡°I was there!¡± Lisa nudged Tyler. ¡°It was gross. Also cool, though.¡±

    ¡°Soon after, he managed to Awaken the Aspect of Stone. Since then, this young man has been training relentlessly with it, and just two days ago he mastered the Spear of Stone technique that one of our own generously taught him. Now, he has come back from today¡¯s skirmishes with his first kill.¡±

    Reagan stepped forward, one hand underneath the platter and the other grasping the bowl by the handle. With an exaggerated motion, he flung the bowl off, revealing a cracked canine skull that might have been bigger than his own.

    And the room exploded into applause.

    Cheers and hollers rang throughout the crowd, and a line of empty space opened up between the young man and the center of the room. A young woman wearing full plate armor dashed forwards and tackled him as he sprinted down the path, and they came up laughing, rolling to a stop against a table that had only a moment before been covered in platters. Reagan climbed onto the table, and the circle of people closed around him, everyone clapping and yelling for the boy.

    Incredible, Tyler thought as he shuffled towards the outskirts of the circle.

    He supposed for all the cruelty and judgement in this world, there were still bright shining moments of kindness. It felt so nice, being in the midst of so much joy. Even if it was just for a moment.

    Someone handed Reagan a drink, and the young man raised it high into the air.

    But just then, a horrible, blaring sound cut through the air. Flashing lights flared to life in every corner of the room, and Alberta¡¯s eyes widened, her voice cutting through the chaos in an urgent shout.

    ¡°Breach on the inner line! All hands on deck!¡±

 14: Boneweld Breach

    Tyler scrambled forward as the room erupted into chaos, weaving through the sea of people in an effort to keep up with Brandon.

    "What''s going on?" he yelled, his voice barely loud enough to be heard over the shouts and thundering of footsteps that now dominated the kitchen.

    He stepped over a fallen tray, its stew spilled and forgotten in the urgency that seemed to have overtaken everyone. In the span of three seconds, the room had gone from loose celebration to a manic rush of preparation.

    "The skeletons made it through our defenses," Brandon growled as he fumbled with the many pockets on the interior of his coat. "They normally don''t push at this time. Alberta already spent all her mana trying to fend them off this afternoon."

    Brandon wiped his palms on his pants as they jogged through the chaos to the nearest window. The entire room of fifty or so people was rapidly streaming toward the two exits.

    "How bad is it?" Tyler questioned.

    ¡°Bad!¡± Lisa answered from behind him. ¡°But we¡¯ll need to see for ourselves to figure out just how bad.¡±

    The woman jogged up to meet them, a second crossbow now slung over her shoulder as Brandon undid the latches on the window and held out his hand.

    Suddenly, a floating slab of stone came rushing towards them from the exterior of the building, swooping through the air to climb upwards until it bobbed up and down just outside the window. Tyler thought it must have been about twice his height and wider than his wingspan, made of a gray granite-like material with a rough polish.

    In one smooth motion, both of the siblings jumped onto it.

    "Come on!" Lisa shouted, reaching across the windowsill to extend a hand out to Tyler.

    "Wait, no ¡ª" Brandon said, but Tyler had already climbed aboard.

    ¡°I can help.¡±

    Brandon shook his head. "Too dangerous. The safest place for you to be is in the base."

    ¡°I¡¯m a Journeyman. Aspect of Resilience.¡±

    The man looked at him like he¡¯d grown a third eye. ¡°No you¡¯re not.¡±

    "He can help,¡± Lisa repeated. ¡°Trust me. I¡¯ll protect him if I need to.¡±

    "Ugh. We don''t have time for this."

    They ascended at a fairly rapid pace, and Tyler kept a tight grip on the edge of the board, his heart pounding as they crested the first skyscrapers and the battle came into view.

    It was far, but through his Journeyman senses Tyler could make out a group of skyscrapers manned by what he assumed were friendly forces, raining arrows and magic upon an advancing swarm of metal and bone.

    Skeletons.

    They were everything he¡¯d expected when he¡¯d heard the phrase. Man-sized things made of cracked bone with eyes of dark green magic, they ranged from bipedal humanoids to full-on amalgamations with dozens of limbs jutting out at awkward angles. Their pitted ivory shone a dull orange in the evening light, and they swarmed across bridges like ants, reinforcements replacing their fallen faster than the Stormchasers could take them out.

    The majority of the Stormchasers from the base were sprinting across rooftops behind them, weapons brandished and ready to fight, but Tyler estimated that it¡¯d probably be at least a couple of minutes before they made it to the breach.

    "Why are they pushing so hard right now?" Brandon muttered. "They never do this."

    The tall man whispered something to himself, and his aura flared for a moment as he blinked his eyes. "Building Five, right down the middle. They''ve brought a general out."

    Tyler turned his attention to where Brandon was pointing, and his Journeyman eyes could just barely make out a lone human form, slinging fire desperately against a flying skeletal bat the size of a car.

    It swooped down and clawed at the middle-aged man, who scrambled to the side and shot a gout of fire its way. The bat easily dodged, unleashing an ear-piercing shriek before redoubling its assault.

    Dozens of skeletons were converging upon that building, and some were already beginning to leak through to the other side. Magic projectiles instantly slammed into them from the neighboring buildings, but Tyler knew it would be only a moment before they were replaced.

    The slab accelerated toward the battle, so fast that Tyler couldn''t hear anything else save for the wind whistling past his ears.

    "There''s so many of them," he muttered.

    Lisa leaned toward him to shout in his ear. "So they''re all tied to that big flying dude right there. He''s the hub. When he goes down, they all go down. They normally don''t expose their weak point like this, but I guess their gamble paid off this time."

    Another form shot toward the breached building atop a floating sword, and Tyler recognized that it was Rhett. The man wobbled drunkenly upon the magic blade, but a series of floating metal shields surrounded him, deflecting incoming arrows. He roared at the challenge, and threw himself off the sword and through a window of the breached building.

    Suddenly, the roar of the wind quieted, and Tyler recognized that Brandon had pushed out another technique to still the air around them.

    The redheaded man turned back to them. "Here''s the plan. Rob ¡ª the guy fighting the general ¡ª is a Peak-Journeyman. Lisa''s also a Peak-Journeyman, but she''s not good at close-range fighting, and her attacks are much less effective against things that don''t have blood within them. She''s going to jump down when we reach the building and do her best to heal our ally and hold the line against the general, but I''ll be occupied supporting them until reinforcements can come.¡±

    "Reinforcements." Lisa frowned. "Do we really trust Rhett to get there on time?"

    From the line of shattered windows making its way up the building, the giant man was making good progress. But he seemed to be clearing out every possible opponent on a floor, rather than going up the building as fast as possible.

    In fact, was there a reason why the guy hadn¡¯t just used his sword to float all the way to the roof?

    Suddenly, arrows began whizzing toward them, and Brandon deccelerated as he split his concentration into another technique ¡ª a barrier of wind that seemed to knock the projectiles off-course.

    "It''s the best option we have," Brandon muttered, though he looked uneasy at the thought.

    ¡°No it¡¯s not!¡± Lisa pointed at Tyler. ¡°What does the Aspect of Resilience do, new guy?¡±

    ¡°Lisa, do you really trust ¡ª¡±

    ¡°Shoot me,¡± Tyler interrupted.

    ¡°What?¡± Brandon scoffed. ¡°No. Lisa, don¡¯t ¡ª¡±

    But Lisa was already firing a crossbow bolt point-blank at Tyler¡¯s raised hand.

    The Dragon¡¯s Bones flared to life within him, and he blocked it with a simple catching motion, opening his hand to show the thin line that the sharp metal had left on his skin. It hadn¡¯t even drawn blood.

    Stolen novel; please report.

    ¡°I¡¯m very durable, and I can hit things hard. You don¡¯t have to keep up that wind barrier if you can go faster without it ¡ª I think I can handle the incoming arrows. Just focus on getting there as fast as possible and tell me what to do.¡±

    ¡°Hell yeah!¡± Lisa shouted.

    Her brother just stared at them for a moment, his mouth hanging wide open, before he regained his composure with a blink. ¡°Okay. Yeah.¡±

    Lisa nodded in approval and pressed a hand on Tyler¡¯s back. Suddenly, the pain seemed to lessen just a little bit again.

    They accelerated again, and Tyler rose to his feet, trusting the Flowing Sands to keep him balanced as he fully turned his attention to the enemy.

    Another cloud of arrows whizzed toward them, and Tyler caught one that was about to strike him in the chest, feeling the dull tip and the flimsiness of the rotted wood. He could take one of those, certainly. This was nothing compared to a swarm of duneclaws lunging at him from every direction.

    The Flowing Sands began to build within his channels.

    Brandon gritted his teeth as they closed in on the building, flinching back as a trio of arrows came within striking distance only to be caught by Tyler at the last second. ¡°Here¡¯s the new plan: Lisa, focus on healing Rob from up here. I¡¯ll keep the arrows off you and fend off the rabble coming down below. Tyler ¡ª kill that thing.¡±

    They swooped down low, and Tyler jumped off with a wild shout.

    System Boon Engaged: Analysis

    Chiropteran Boneweld

    Upon the oceans of Cirex, there once sailed a group of feared warlords well versed in the knowledge of life and death. They plundered not just gold, but the very essence of strength ¡ª organs torn from the bodies and souls of monsters and cultivators alike, hoarded like treasures to be devoured in their relentless pursuit of power.

    But their ambition led them to one fatal mistake.

    They sought the inheritance of the Saint of Eternal Scarlet, a prize of knowledge meant solely for the woman¡¯s holy successor that they thought poorly-guarded as the Saint waged war in a distant land. But even across the sea, the Saint felt the theft as keenly as she would a needle to her neck.

    For their crimes, she struck them down in a single blow ¡ª but not before cursing their bodies and souls to forever arise at the break of dawn, to join the gruesome pieces that they once operated upon in a horrific amalgamation of magic and bone.

    This boneweld contains the soul of a warlord himself, and serves as a conduit for the living magic seared into its legion of ancient bones. The mindless rabble at its command will never stop till this Chiropteran is put to rest.

    Tyler stared down at the unholy thing, its ivory wings flared outwards as it stood frozen in the middle of takeoff. He could see the pain on its opponent¡¯s face ¡ª the blood running down the fire mage¡¯s shirt from a trio of arrow wounds, the paleness of the man¡¯s fingers as they held a mace uselessly at his side.

    He could see the desperation in the people holding the buildings around them, the panic in their eyes as their attention was forced between ensuring their own survival and preventing more enemies from spilling into the compromised skyscraper. He thought he could even hear the faint frozen sound of a drunken roar a couple stories below him, accompanied by the echoes of metal on cracking bone.

    For someone used to fighting oversized lobsters torn from their natural environment, this monster was a clear order of magnitude stronger than anything he¡¯d ever managed to kill.

    He''d just woken up from the brink of death a couple of hours ago, and his joints should have been far too weak to support any sort of sustained combat. But the blood magic was easing his pain, and lending him strength that melded with the new power of the Flowing Sands.

    Tyler clenched his fists, feeling the urgency of the situation. The bird¡¯s ominous, dark green orbs for eyes turned towards him as reality snapped back to its usual speed.

    The circumstances certainly wasn''t ideal, but with the power of a Journeyman and a truckload of adrenaline coursing through him, he thought he could perform. After all, this thing still wasn¡¯t nearly as strong as that bird had been.

    He landed with a hammering two-handed blow that collapsed the monster''s right wing. The limb gave out under him in a sickening crunch, and he used the momentum from his attack to launch himself away, landing in a crouch on the rooftop before the thing could retaliate.

    It shrieked ¡ª a discordant, hair-raising tone like ripping metal ¡ª and rushed towards him in a scrambling limp. It was awkward and hunched ¡ª no doubt unused to being without its powers of flight ¡ª but it still closed the distance at a rapid pace.

    Behind him, Tyler caught what he thought was a choked ¡®thank you¡¯ as a glob of red magic landed on the fire mage¡¯s chest.

    And then the bat was on him.

    It snapped forward with fangs that seemed strong enough to crack concrete, but he whirled around the bite and hit it with an uppercut, cracking the hard bone and sending the thing reeling. It twisted towards him in agony, its one good wing sweeping out like a reaper¡¯s scythe, and Tyler met the blow with the full strength of the Dragon¡¯s Bones. His arms stood against the blow like solid steel.

    Unfortunately, he¡¯d forgotten that he still weighed the same as a normal human. He went shooting back, his bare feet scraping against concrete just feet away from the edge of the rooftop.

    ¡°Fuck,¡± he muttered, scrambling back to his feet as a swarm of arrows bounced off of his back. ¡°That was close.¡°

    He really needed a way to stop that from happening.

    The bat was already halfway to him, brimming with rage that Tyler had somehow managed to survive its strike. But luckily for him, the fire mage had recovered.

    And this time when the man lashed out with a technique, it landed on the distracted creature with a resounding boom.

    The monster screamed like a thousand tortured locusts as it emerged through the attack, the left half of its skull charred and sizzling with embers. The edges of the burnt bone seemed to crumble off in flakes, the scorching heat too much for the animating magic to overcome.

    But it seemed Tyler still had the monster¡¯s undivided attention. It thundered towards him, its jaws gnashing as a handful of lesser fireballs hammered into the thing.

    In response, Tyler prepared the Flowing Sands.

    More arrows caught him in a half-dozen places, but they proved barely more than a nuisance as he coaxed his mana into a frenzy.

    The monster had caught him off-guard that time. The feeling reminded him of his fight with the bird, or that first encounter with a duneclaw. But there was a difference now ¡ª he was just more powerful.

    He was moving before the creature even reached him, lashing out with a kick that took its cracked right wing clean off. He hooked a hand onto its leg as he absorbed the momentum of the limb, and flung himself up to the back of the hunched creature¡¯s head.

    It thrashed with all its might as it realized where he¡¯d gone, snapping its skull back and forth and clawing wildly at him with its one remaining wing. But Tyler¡¯s grip held, and he endured the blows with the supreme confidence befitting a practitioner of the Aspect of Resilience.

    And with every second, he landed another blow on its skull with his free hand. Punch after punch after punch, he hammered the thick bone with all his strength, spreading a vast spiderweb of cracks through the torso-sized thing before his fist finally broke through with a resounding snap.

    The animating magic within it was hot against his hand ¡ª eating away at his skin like acid as he plunged his forearm into the hole, somehow grabbing hold of the ephemeral substance with nothing but instinct.

    And as the car-sized creature trembled in his grasp, he ripped the magic out with a guttural scream.

    It didn¡¯t even have time to scream before it collapsed into a pile of bones.

    Tyler barely remembered to catch himself as he fell with the thing.

    ¡°Holy shit.¡±

    He was left there, huffing, his face flushed as the sound of thousands of clattering bones echoed throughout the buildings around them.

    Tyler turned around, and saw a handful of awe-filled stares trained on him from the adjacent rooftops. And more were showing up by the second as people pulled their comrades from their battlestations, leading them up to see the party that had stopped the chaos.

    He heard confused, slurred cursing rising from the floor below them.

    Then Brandon and Lisa touched down next to him with the gentle thunk of boots on stone.

    "I told you so," Lisa smirked.

    "Yeah," Brandon exhaled, smiling as he shook his head. "You sure did. I¡¯m sorry for doubting you, man. I appreciate the help¡­ Journeyman."

    Tyler paused for a moment. ¡°Of course. And thanks for having my back. Both of you.¡±

    From across the rooftop, a small ball of magic shot up into the air, exploding outwards after a moment like a firework.

    ¡°The battle is over!¡± the fire mage shouted, and Tyler saw the crowd of reinforcements come to a stop on the lower rooftops. ¡°We beat them!¡±

    Another signal shot upward from the crowd, and then another from the group trailing further behind them. Then, a burst of light rose from the base, expanding outwards until it displayed giant blue letters that could be clearly read even from Tyler¡¯s position.

    V I C T O R Y.

    It was beautiful.

    Brandon suddenly sat up, putting a hand in his pocket as he turned towards the direction of the base. ¡°Alberta is contacting me. Let me just ¡ª yes. We dispatched of the general. No, he¡¯s still down there somewhere. It was our refugee. He says he¡¯s a Journeyman. Do you want to ¡ª oh, shit. Okay.¡±

    He turned to Tyler, and some sort of magic washed out from him as he pulled out a card-shaped silver talisman. ¡°She wants to talk to you.¡±

    The man pushed the artifact towards him, and suddenly Tyler could hear the Branch Leader¡¯s voice echoing in his ear. It was like catching a quiet conversation on a windy day, but his newly enhanced senses had no trouble picking up the words.

    "What''s your name, newcomer?"

    He straightened. ¡°Tyler. Tyler Thorn.¡±

    A moment of silence. Then¡­

    "Then the entire 21st branch of the Stormchasers thanks you, Tyler Thorn."

 15: Morning Training (1/2)

    Tyler woke to moonlight shining through his window and black-and-purple veins creeping through the night sky.

    It was eerily quiet, in contrast to the boisterous partying that he¡¯d fallen asleep to. He thought it was only thanks to his Journeyman senses that he heard the occasional caw of some nocturnal birds, sometimes followed by a wooshing that he assumed was the Stormchaser guards driving said birds away.

    How many hours had he slept? Four? Five?

    Without a clock, it was hard to tell. But given that this little mismatched world seemed to have inherited Earth¡¯s day-night cycles, it was definitely less than he should have needed to sleep to feel so refreshed.

    Perhaps part of it was how he¡¯d woken up closer to dusk than dawn, but even as he¡¯d advanced through Novice he¡¯d noticed he was probably sleeping slightly less than he would have otherwise. It made sense that Journeyman would be a much more drastic difference.

    He slowly clambered out of his bed and did his morning stretches, wincing as the inflammation reminded him that this was what getting out of bed should have been like.

    Of course he¡¯d grown so healthy over the course of the island that even his bed of leaves could leave him feeling barely stiff at all, but now that he had a proper bed to sleep in his body was back to being in a wreck.

    Tyler sighed in annoyance. He would just have to deal with it. He had for years, after all. And at least the strength of a Journeyman was coursing through him despite it all.

    He stepped quietly down the hallways, careful not to disturb the residents sleeping across those poorly-soundproofed doors. Office nameplates had been taken down or defaced entirely with black ink to dictate the rooms¡¯ new owners, and warm magical lights gave the hallways a more organic touch than the now-useless fluorescent lighting hanging from the ceiling.

    The residential quarters of the building weren¡¯t big, all things considered, but the sheer mass of the skyscraper lent it this sense of grandeur that made him feel rather small inside of it. Especially when most of his life for the past few months had been spent inside a cave.

    He followed the signs to the large restroom that had been rigged up at the center of the living quarters, and took advantage of the free bucket of scavenged toiletries to give himself his second shower since the apocalypse had started.

    Well, he supposed the people in the medbay had probably cleaned him up when he¡¯d gotten here, but last night had ended with his first conscious shower in months. It had been an incredible experience ¡ª a moment of physical bliss to cap off a hectic night.

    His entire squad had been celebrated the moment they¡¯d gotten back ¡ª a drunken, rambunctious thing that picked up right where the previous celebrations had left off and grown to be twice as loud. Tyler hadn¡¯t drunk much himself ¡ª he didn¡¯t know if he would ever be able to enjoy alcohol after certain¡­ past experiences ¡ª but the taste of the sugary syrup mixed in with his colorful fruity cocktail had been enough to make him weep happy tears.

    He was really back in civilization. In a place close enough to modern conveniences that they were able to either acquire or replicate the taste of grenadine and ginger ale.

    News of his advancement level seemed to have spread, and the title of Journeyman by itself would have probably been more than enough to help the 21st Branch warm up to him. The people who¡¯d directly witnessed his takedown of the Chiropteran Boneweld treated him like a living legend ¡ª bowing to him in gratitude and showering him with gifts ¡ª and even their friends who hadn¡¯t been there to see him seemed to regard him with a level of deference. The respect made him feel awkward without a level of familiarity to go along with it, though, which was why his favorite fan had to have been Rob¡¯s daughter Tammy ¡ª the nine-year-old girl who practiced the Aspect of Weight.

    The overjoyed ¡®You saved my daddy!¡¯ that he¡¯d gotten from the kid had been worth more than all the gifts combined. The gifts sure didn¡¯t hurt, though.

    The piles of donations he¡¯d gotten was piled up in a giant mound on the tiny table by his bed, and the presents themselves had ranged from money to hand-knitted blankets to magic rings and daggers that had made Brandon¡¯s eyes go wide when he¡¯d gotten a look at them. It had been a bit awkward for Tyler, especially since he¡¯d had to refuse all of the enchanted items simply because he couldn¡¯t use any of them, but at least he had a fully-stocked wardrobe now.

    Unfortunately, it looked like not everyone could take the pronouncement of his capabilities at face value. He¡¯d gotten more than a couple of rude questions over how he could possibly be the same advancement as Alberta given his lack of aura, and even overheard a handful of comments over how he was a straight-up poser. The latter seemed most concentrated in Rhett¡¯s group of bitter bros, who had not been acknowledged by Alberta in her announcement the same way Tyler and the Frie siblings had.

    It seemed like there was a storm of rumors going around regarding how the new un-Awakened refugee had actually beaten the skeletal bat, ranging from his entire involvement being overblown to his possession of a working magical assault rifle to him being a master martial artist from before the apocalypse who had been afflicted with terminal cancer.

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    He¡¯d seen the siblings listening to someone recount that last theory once, only for Brandon to counter with a straight-faced argument that Tyler was actually an alien whose home planet was ten times as massive as Earth, lending him superhuman strength in normal gravity. It was only after the fact that the man told Tyler his sister was making him do it as a punishment ¡ª apparently the siblings had a tradition of staking thematically-appropriate embarrassment whenever they argued about anything.

    Tyler had chuckled when he¡¯d realized that even in that high-stakes situation, the two redheads had been so used to bickering with one another that they¡¯d silently established a wager.

    Brandon had then apologized again for doubting Tyler, and he¡¯d opened up a bit about how he hated that the stress of the outbreak was getting to him. To all of them, the man had said. It had everyone constantly on edge, and when confronted with an anomaly like Tyler, some just subconsciously chose not to think and to go with the judgements that had worked for them in the past.

    It was unfair to Tyler, Brandon had sighed. The guy had been trying to do his best to spread the truth, while the Branch had a moment of respite, but even during the celebrations some people just refused to take a moment to listen.

    Because of the skepticism of a good portion of the 21st Branch, Tyler had been a bit worried that the Branch Leader herself would question his claims. Lisa had been excited at the prospect of shooting him with a magical crossbow bolt next time to really show off his durability, but it turned out that hadn¡¯t been necessary. The moment she¡¯d gotten a minute with him face-to-face, she¡¯d bowed and greeted him as a cultivator of equal advancement. He¡¯d wondered if she¡¯d heard from Brandon, but a look through his spiritual sense seemed to give him another answer.

    The woman was positively awash with Resilience. And if her Aspect was close enough to his that he could see its clear effect on her body, he had to assume the same was true the other way around.

    It was nice, not having to prove himself to the leader of this little community, but he¡¯d also been a bit disappointed that he wouldn¡¯t be able to pass as a non-cultivator to everyone. It had only been positive so far, but he did wonder about future situations where he might have preferred the option to keep his advancement a secret.

    He¡¯d only gotten a moment with the Branch Leader before she was dragged off to other business, but she¡¯d promised to arrange a time for them to talk later. It was hard to read her through their brief encounter and the obvious stress lining her face, but if anything he thought maybe she appreciated the presence of another Journeyman.

    But after a long night of memorizing names and pretending to drink more than he actually was, he¡¯d finally found a moment to run away to the showers, where he¡¯d had his aforementioned heavenly experience. And while the second time wasn¡¯t quite as good, he still felt like a new man by the time he was done.

    So after giving himself a thorough steaming, he dressed and set out for a particular destination.

    His fully-gifted wardrobe was even more mismatched than that of the average post-apocalyptic human, but he appreciated that he wouldn¡¯t have to wear the borderline hospital-gown attire anymore ¡ª or God forbid those ragged pajamas that he¡¯d worn non-stop in for months. He was honestly glad that he hadn¡¯t seen any trace of the latter since waking up here, because he wasn¡¯t sure any amount of washing would get that accumulated stench of blood and sweat off of them.

    As he navigated the mix of sterile corporate infrastructure and the chaotic, dirty mark of the survivors who had taken residence in this place, he found himself thinking of just how different this was from the old world. And of just how different he was, compared to the Tyler Thorn of last year.

    He¡¯d been through hell and back, and now that he had some bar for comparison, he was strong.

    Journeyman. I¡¯m a Journeyman.

    His understanding of Reaman culture told him that the gap between stages was many times larger than the gaps within a stage, and his Analysis agreed with that sentiment. Journeyman was the threshold that every apprentice strived to meet, as it was the lowest cultivation tier that could stand up to the body-strengthening ritual necessary to become a full-fledged Warrior. On Korshaan, being a Journeyman meant you were powerful enough to fend off any number of the world¡¯s pests.

    The one other Journeyman within the 21st Branch had been automatically designated their leader, and he¡¯d lived through the impact that just one Journeyman could have on a battle ¡ª even one as new and injured as himself.

    And what about that thing he¡¯d done with the Boneweld? What had that been?

    He shuddered as he remembered that horrible burning sensation ¡ª that red-hot itching on his skin as he¡¯d plunged his hand into the bat¡¯s oversized skull. It had felt like he¡¯d just dunked his arm in acid, but when he¡¯d looked at it later, the only injuries he could see were the blood on his knuckles and the scrapes on his skin.

    But something had happened. To the outside world, he supposed it just looked like the monster had fallen apart the moment he¡¯d broken through its skull. But he¡¯d questioned Brandon after the fact, and the man had said that it was intriguing, how the general had died so easily. Apparently, it usually took a complete shattering of the area housing the animating magic before one of those things would go down.

    Tyler couldn¡¯t quite figure out what he¡¯d done, or how he¡¯d done it. But somehow he¡¯d torn at the magic itself. It brought back a rush of hazy emotions, from that massive blur in his memory where he¡¯d been on the brink of death against that bird.

    Was that how he¡¯d escaped that, too?

    He didn¡¯t know.

    But if it was, then he needed to figure it out. He needed to figure out everything that he was capable of, now that his body and soul had been reborn in the forge of advancement. Because he could tell without a doubt that he still wasn¡¯t strong enough to face those birds ¡ª much less reach whatever level of power Savadiere had shown him. To get there, he needed to be more.

    So, after a couple of wrong turns and dead-ends, he found himself facing the first training room of the 21st Branch of the Stormchasers.

 15: Morning Training (2/2)

    The training room was completely empty when he got there, which wasn¡¯t a surprise given the hour. But the form that it took was surprising for him, even if it probably shouldn¡¯t have been.

    It was a rearranged gym ¡ª a large, rugged, yet oddly sterile thing.

    There was an entire floor-to-ceiling glass window on the far side of the room opposite of where he came in, but it had been boarded up with sheets of metal and wood in a disorganized, DIY-kind of pattern. He could see bits of moonlight streaming through where the people who¡¯d boarded it up hadn¡¯t been completely thorough.

    Benches and squat racks lined the mirrored walls, while free weights dotted the mats near the middle where people hadn¡¯t quite fully cleaned up after themselves. All in all, aside from the window, that area looked fairly untouched compared to his mental image of what it could have looked like before.

    But that space only took up half the room. The equipment on the other half had likely been moved off somewhere ¡ª all the machines that required electricity were unable to be used anymore ¡ª and they had been replaced with something much more abstract.

    The floor was completely clear in this part of the room, save for some rough fences that had been laid out in neat little rows. They were spaced out a dozen feet apart, and they filled the entire half of the room wall-to-wall like bowling alleys. And at the ends of those makeshift alleys were training dummies.

    This was a firing range.

    Some faded motivational posters were still hanging on the walls behind them, half-scorched or torn by the aftermaths of these people¡¯s training, he guessed. And around that entire side of the room, there was this magical blue shielding similar to the one he¡¯d seen block that incoming attack right after he¡¯d woken up. The magic flickered slightly as it hummed just inches away from the wall.

    He could smell the scent of sweat and ash and ozone.

    Magic.

    Tyler drank it all in as he limbered his joints up. This was the perfect place to test his new power ¡ª a quaint little playground where he wouldn¡¯t have to worry about breaking things.

    He examined his potential targets, and one caught his eye. The leftmost training dummy was nothing but a big boulder that was taller than he was ¡ª oddly reminiscent of the one in the cave that he¡¯d often used for his bone-strengthening exercises. It was flush with Resilience, indicating to him that it had probably survived a number of beatings in its day.

    He smiled at it all. Things were so different here, but he supposed some things never changed.

    Tyler willed his mana into action, relishing the rush of power that thrummed through him as he engaged the Flowing Sands. His Journeyman mana suffused him with a density that it had never had at Novice, and he mentally pictured the face of that skeletal bat overlayed with the boulder in front of him.

    Then he took his first steps.

    In a flash, he was next to the stone, and his warmup strike landed with a level of force that would have been incomprehensible for him just weeks before. His forearm pounded against the rock with a sharp crack that rang through the room, and the blow was instantly followed by a second as he ran through the first set of exercises prescribed by the Ancestors¡¯ Carvings.

    This version of the Flowing Sands lent him a level of speed and control that he¡¯d never otherwise achieved, and he let the feeling of mastery over his own body wash over him like a rising tide. With each motion he worked himself into a greater frenzy, coaxing his limbs faster and faster as he assaulted the boulder in a whirling jackhammer of blows.

    Everything had gone so fast ¡ª from the events of the past two days to the second appearance of the Storm to the weeks of cultivating with the magic bananas before that ¡ª that he hadn¡¯t really gotten the time to process it all. Even on the island, when he¡¯d spent so much time thinking about the Storm and how he¡¯d ended up there, he¡¯d been in a different mental state ¡ª a context solely dedicated to survival and advancement in this strange place where the world he knew previously held no bearing.

    Now that he was back in some semblance of civilization, it was like a switch had been flipped in his brain. Those old thoughts and mental processes that he¡¯d worn for the first two decades of his life had been dusted off and re-inserted into his mind, and he had to deal with the awful clash of those mindsets with the ones that he¡¯d formed while on the island, all while in an environment that was itself nothing but a clash of these two worlds mashed into one.

    Those were the types of thoughts that he¡¯d purposefully tried to avoid when he was going stir-crazy while locked in the cave ¡ª the ones that had become even more overwhelming yesterday when he was laying still in bed, trying to let sleep take him.

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    But in this frenzied, powerful moment, that task felt so much more manageable. The motion lent him an outlet for his struggling brain, a physical sensation to focus on and ground him in the roaring sea that had awakened in his mind. And as sweat dripped down his brows and his calloused skin began to crack against the hard stone, he found that those two mental contexts had begun to blur together to match reality. It was still weird ¡ª chaotic and overwhelming and mismatched ¡ª but he supposed that was just his life, now that the apocalypse had begun.

    This new environment was still confusing as hell, and he was still reeling from the loss of the island and the tree, but now it was all feeling just a bit more navigable.

    How would the ancient Reamans feel about me wasting so much water in that shower? When for them water was this rare resource, used only for drinking and sacred rituals?

    The thought arose randomly in the back of his mind, and he almost laughed at the absurdity of the image. It was like he was culture shocking himself.

    This really was an entire culture that he¡¯d been immersed in, given that those cave carvings and the Analysis screens about them were the only things even remotely resembling socialization that he had access to on the island. It was amusing to think about now ¡ª what would they think of some random human waltzing into their cave and making it his home, all the while stealing their techniques?

    Then again, Tyler thought he knew. The Reamans were a warrior people. They respected strength.

    And if there was anything that Tyler knew, it was that he would keep getting stronger.

    He was putting more force into the forms now, aiming to not just go through the motions but to really hammer fortitude into his limbs, as they had been intended to do. Before, that had been a fairly mundane exercise.

    But his new strength made even the mundane spectacular.

    His fists became a blur as they cracked like machine gun fire against the solid rock, and he could feel that the floor was beginning to tremble with the force of his attacks. His knuckles were beginning to scrape, and his inflammation was whining in the back of his mind, screaming that it wasn¡¯t okay to push his body this hard again.

    But he was feeling powerful, riding this high of advancement and pushing his body to the very limit. Every blow felt like a victory, a step forward, a physical demonstration that he would keep going and that he would never stop.

    Before Tyler knew it, he wasn¡¯t envisioning a fight against the Chiropteran Boneweld, but putting his fist through that tiny bird with the strength of a wrecking ball.

    That thing had been so far above him ¡ª so immensely powerful that he hadn¡¯t even been able to scratch it. Next time, he wouldn¡¯t let anything take him down so easily.

    His blows were really thrashing the boulder now ¡ª its humongous bulk and the little divot that it was settled upon were the only things keeping the thing from physically moving. That was better for him, though. He didn¡¯t want to move it.

    He wanted to break it.

    An elbow, a knee, a sweeping kick downwards that sent him shooting into the air involuntarily.

    Tyler landed in a crouch and sprang right back, slamming into the thing with fist after fist after fist. He was making progress. He thought his strikes were landing just slightly differently, his fists becoming tougher as his mana instinctually moved to resist the damage coming back from his own blows.

    He forced his mana deeper, and the Flowing Sands came to a mighty wave that veritably flooded through his limbs. His arm physically trembled with the power ¡ª too much to use in any real fight. Against this stationary object, though, he could control himself just enough to throw it into the most powerful haymaker he¡¯d ever thrown.

    His fist flashed through the air, his body twisting as he imagined tearing through a mountain of magic, working to impart as much force as physically possible into the strike ¡ª

    And then whump.

    Tyler was on the floor.

    He let out a breathy gasp, laughing a bit at the circumstance.

    He¡¯d slipped. When was the last time he¡¯d slipped on anything? Like with when he¡¯d tanked the skeletal bat¡¯s attack, he supposed the drawbacks of superhuman strength were beginning to show themselves.

    Especially since he was barefoot on polished tile.

    ¡°Oh well,¡± he chuckled. ¡°I¡¯ll have to keep experimenting with that, I guess.¡±

    As he wiped the sweat from his brow, he realized that streams of sunlight were coming in through those cracks in the boarded-up window. He could hear the sounds of people waking up and beginning to go about their days.

    Wow, he thought to himself. How long have I been training for?

    For a couple of minutes he just sat there, taking in the sounds and cultivating the small amount of Resilience that his training had accumulated within him.

    It was nice. Peaceful.

    Then, he heard a herd of footsteps approaching the room.

    Tyler blinked, quickly breaking from his cultivation and wiping his hands off on his pants. He was hyper-conscious of just how much of a mess he was currently, and after making headway into the realm of social acceptance he really didn¡¯t want to ruin his progress with a bad impression.

    But as Everett Brown waltzed into the room like he owned the place, followed by a gaggle of smirking followers, Tyler found himself giving up on any hope of a friendly conversation.

    He¡¯d never had a good experience with this kind of encounter.

 16: Some Things Never Change

    Everett Brown - Aspect of Iron

    Rhett belched loudly as he walked up to Tyler, a full head and a half taller than him and at least twice as wide. The man¡¯s aura hung loose around him with power equivalent to Lisa¡¯s, and a trio of metal sheets hovered around him in a slow circle. A half-dozen guys of more average builds trailed behind him, all around Tyler¡¯s age and absolutely drunk out of their minds.

    ¡°Yoooooo,¡± Rhett half-spoke-half-sang, dragging out the word like he was relishing the moment. ¡°Now what do we have here?¡±

    Thanks to his Journeyman senses, Tyler could smell the alcohol as soon as they got within ten feet of him. Each waft of air from these guys stunk of vomit and dehydration, and the loopy, power-tripping grins on their faces brought back memories that he would much rather avoid.

    They¡¯d probably been up all night drinking.

    The guy¡¯s lackeys sniggered, and one of them walked up to him, poking him in the ribs. ¡°The hero of the day. Tyler Thorn, who took down a skeleton general with nothing but his own two hands.¡±

    Another round of laughs.

    John Rhys ¡ª Aspect of Fire

    Tyler stared blankly at the man. This was probably a High-Novice ¡ª just one step below that fire mage that he¡¯d fought the skeletal bat with. He had some scars on his hands, and a knife on his belt that looked worn with use. How could someone survive months in this world and still act like that?

    Rhett stepped forwards, and despite probably being even drunker than his lackeys, he walked with a steady gait that betrayed some level of self-mastery. ¡°How are you liking the 21st Branch, buddy?¡±

    Tyler looked at him, weighing his options, before eventually responding in as even of a tone as he could. ¡°It¡¯s been enjoyable so far.¡±

    Another lackey stepped up to him, the guy baring a loony smile as he cocked his head sideways. ¡°Oh, you¡¯re liking it, huh? Enjoy all the gifts?¡±

    Tyler¡¯s finger twitched. ¡°... Yes.¡±

    ¡°Of course! Of course!¡± The man¡¯s smile widened, and Tyler felt a slight tickle of pressure that might have been the Mid-Novice flaring his aura. ¡°Nothing but the best for the Branch¡¯s new Journeyman!¡±

    Tyler stepped away from the man¡¯s barely-contained shouting, taking in the guy¡¯s bloodshot eyes and trembling fingers. Maybe it wasn¡¯t just alcohol that these people happened to be hopped up on.

    The lackey looked ready to advance onto Tyler again, but a clap from Rhett stopped him. ¡°Woah, woah, guys! Let up on him. Obviously, we wouldn¡¯t want to disrespect such a high-ranking cultivator. Isn¡¯t that right, squirt?¡±

    Squirt?

    Tyler looked him in the eye. ¡°What do you want?¡±

    The big man wrapped an arm around his shoulders, and Tyler grimaced as the overpowering stench of sweat and axe body spray mixed with the alcohol in the guy¡¯s breath. ¡°Everyone is saying things about you, and we wanted to check for ourselves. You ¡ª this five-foot-nothing emaciated little freak ¡ª are a big strong Journeyman that can take on a skeleton general by yourself?¡±

    ¡°I am,¡± Tyler said through gritted teeth.

    Rhett¡¯s lackadaisical expression turned serious, and he brought his face close enough that Tyler could see the chunks of meat stuck in his teeth. ¡°You¡¯ve got guts, I¡¯ll give you that. But little guy, let me give you a tip. If you¡¯re gonna talk shit, then you gotta back it up.¡±

    A hand grasped at the back of his shirt, and Tyler was yanked upwards as the entire little gang guffawed.

    ¡°Look at him! The Journeyman can¡¯t even stay on the ground!¡±

    ¡°Are you gonna unleash your big bad Journeyman magic on us?¡±

    ¡°I heard that nobody¡¯s seen him do any magic ¡ª he really is just an un-Awakened loser!¡±

    ¡°What a sad little boy, caught in the middle of a lie,¡± Rhett taunted. ¡°I don¡¯t know how you managed to convince the Branch Leader, but you can¡¯t just talk your way into respect with us, bro. You gotta walk the walk.¡±

    Tyler took a deep breath. The stench of liquor and machismo condescension was reminding him far too much of a memory that he¡¯d rather avoid.

    This isn¡¯t them, though. This is just some random frat bro drunk out of his mind.

    But that didn¡¯t make it feel any better.

    He looked up at the man, keeping his expression wholly neutral as he pulled his arms up, dropping out from the oversized shirt and landing with both feet on the floor. ¡°I don¡¯t want to hurt you.¡±

    ¡°Ohhh, he doesn¡¯t want to hurt us!¡± John cackled.

    Tyler swallowed hard, forcefully exhaling and taking a step away from the group of men.

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    ¡°Oops!¡± A short, overweight High-Novice exclaimed, extending a foot in front of him.

    Tyler easily avoided it, but then another hand shoved at his back while he was on one foot. It took all of his willpower not to turn around and shatter that hand to pieces.

    Instead, he flared the Flowing Sands, forcing his body into stability. On the outside, it might have looked like the shove hadn¡¯t happened. But as he looked back, he saw the man behind him staring at him with wide eyes.

    As their gazes met, he saw the guy tremble.

    ¡°Walking away?¡± Rhett sneered. ¡°Sorry, bro. But I can¡¯t let you do that quite yet.¡±

    The man¡¯s arms bulged, and he yanked his hands apart, tearing the large green shirt into two.

    Tyler looked sadly at the falling pieces of a present given to him by the elderly mother of a woman he¡¯d saved. His fists clenched. ¡°Why did you do that?¡±

    Rhett laughed and stepped back into his face. ¡°You owe me a debt, little man. Your lies have gotten you a giant pile of valuable gifts that should have gone to me. So I had every right to do that ¡ª that shirt should have been mine.¡±

    The smallest, youngest guy in the group squeaked out a protest. ¡°R-Rhett, didn¡¯t Alberta say ¡ª¡±

    A large, sweaty palm grabbed at Tyler¡¯s now-bare shoulder.

    ¡°Don¡¯t touch me.¡±

    Rhett¡¯s eyes widened for just a moment, and then the guy¡¯s aura flared as his mouth spread in a shit-eating grin. ¡°What are you gonna do about it?¡±

    Tyler¡¯s entire body shook as the man began to squeeze.

    Tyler could sense the Resilience pooling within Rhett¡¯s hand. Clearly, the Aspect of Iron was doing a lot for Rhett¡¯s physical strength. His grip was like a vice ¡ª probably stronger than even the toughest duneclaw¡¯s tail claw. But that wasn¡¯t why he was shaking ¡ª Tyler had long since surpassed that level of power.

    He was shaking with rage.

    ¡°I said don¡¯t touch me.¡±

    A sharp crack rang through the room as he slapped Rhett''s hand away.

    Rhett¡¯s nostrils flared, and the burly man¡¯s jaw clenched as he stared at the red mark on his forearm. ¡°Y-you!¡±

    The lackeys were all staring predatorily at him, poised to spring into action. Tyler looked at each one of them in turn, and with every second that passed his blood ran hotter.

    Wasn¡¯t he strong enough now that he didn¡¯t have to deal with this bullshit? Even after all that struggle and strife, all his relentless training and cultivation, these kinds of people just wouldn¡¯t leave him alone.

    Yes officer, we tried our best to restrain him non-violently, but he kept trying to attack her and Chase here accidentally knocked him out.

    Don¡¯t listen to any of his lies when he wakes up ¡ª I¡¯m sure he¡¯s going to try and twist things to make him look like the victim. You know the type.

    Rhett was fuming, his fists clenching and unclenching as he worked his jaw, veins popping from his temples. ¡°Okay, buddy. I was planning on letting you off easy. But if you¡¯re really a Journeyman, then fight me like one.¡±

    The Winding Chains

    A pair of hands shot towards his neck, and Tyler had had enough.

    The Flowing Sands burst to life within him, far stronger than it had ever come before. It thrashed through his channels like a roaring river, seeping into his muscles like the anger seeped into his mind.

    His hands intercepted the man¡¯s wrists before they could even get close. Rhett pitted his full strength against him, pushing up towards his neck like a charging bull, but Tyler¡¯s frustration would not be denied.

    We are going to stay right fucking here.

    They remained locked in place like statues as he held his hands steady, Rhett straining so hard it looked like he was going to burst a vein. Tyler¡¯s mana seemed to sing with his determination, and as he slowly guided Rhett¡¯s wrists down, the man¡¯s entire body began to tremble.

    ¡°Have you ever considered the consequences of your actions, Rhett?¡±

    Rhett growled, his beady eyes bulging at the sensation of being overpowered, and his lips began to quiver as the discomfort steadily ramped up. His wrists were turned outwards as far as they could go now, and Tyler watched as the rage in the man¡¯s face slowly began to turn into fear.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. Maybe you haven¡¯t. Maybe you never even thought of the fact that you¡¯re inflicting damage upon a living, breathing person.¡±

    Tyler increased the pressure some more. It was just a fraction of what he was capable of, but even the slight difference made the man whimper. Rhett¡¯s breaths were coming in short, panicked bursts, and as the hold tightened, Tyler could feel the creaking of straining joints.

    ¡°Maybe it¡¯s different in this new world. I don¡¯t know. Maybe with all the healers and magic you don¡¯t have to worry as much about that stuff. In the old world, though, some wounds never healed. Some become permanent, agonizing parts of your life, all because some drunk asshole like you decided that your convenience was worth more than someone¡¯s future.¡±

    ¡°N-no!¡± Rhett sputtered, shakily levitating one of his shields and sending it shooting at Tyler¡¯s neck. ¡°I¡¯ll kill you! I¡¯ll fucking kill you ¡ª¡±

    Tyler¡¯s control slipped for just a moment, and the man¡¯s right wrist caved in on itself with the snap of fracturing bone.

    Rhett¡¯s wails filled the room like the screams of a dying banshee. It was this guttural, horrible thing, releasing bits of spittle that stuck grossly against Tyler¡¯s bare chest, and the other men all flinched away from the sound like it was a hot iron.

    The shield bounced pitifully off of Tyler¡¯s skin.

    Give me a reason to do the other one. Just one. Fucking. Reason.

    But as he glared at the screaming man, he saw that Rhett was pedaling backwards in a terrified scramble. The rest of the shields were inert, and a large patch of liquid was spreading through the large man¡¯s pants.

    Tyler let him go with a sharp sigh. What am I fucking doing? When did I get like this?

    ¡°Y-you won¡¯t get away with this¡­¡± The man blubbered, clutching his wrist as he scrambled backwards as fast as his shivering legs could take him. ¡°I ¡ª I¡¯ll kill you¡­¡±

    The rest of his lackeys had long since backed away from them, like mice before a hungry cat. John had gone as pale as a sheet, and his eyes were bugged out as he stood perfectly still like a deer in headlights. The man who had shoved him had one foot out the door, as if afraid that if he tried to run that would only doom him further.

    ¡°Now you know I wasn¡¯t lying,¡± Tyler hissed. ¡°Now you¡¯ve checked for yourselves, like you wanted to do so fucking bad. So now you can leave.¡±

    His fingers still trembled with emotion, and his breaths were heavy despite the fight having been nearly effortless. He let out a shuddering sigh, his last words coming out in a whispered croak.

    ¡°Just¡­ fucking leave me alone.¡±

    And the group of six men fled from him like vermin.

 17: Friends

    ¡°Tyler?¡±

    Tyler jumped as he turned to the source of the new voice, in the entrance opposite to the one Rhett¡¯s gang had fled out of just seconds ago. ¡°Lisa?¡±

    The woman was peeking through the doorway, holding a tray in both hands. A sympathetic grin stretched the corner of her mouth. ¡°You sure know how to put ¡®em in their place, huh?¡±

    Tyler flushed, suddenly conscious of his bare chest and the lines of ribs visible through his pale skin. His long, shaggy hair was still covered in sweat from his training, and he was still breathing heavy from the rush of intense emotion. The echoes of Rhett''s crew sprinting away through the halls were just barely fading.

    He felt ashamed that someone else had witnessed that ¡ª like a child caught in the middle of throwing a tantrum. He knew there probably would have been a better way to handle it, a more mature style of conflict resolution that didn¡¯t involve strong-arming his enemies into submission. But they just kept attacking him, and he¡¯d just been so angry. It reminded him so much of so many things he¡¯d rather forget.

    Ohmygosh, it was so scary! He even broke my arm.

    He closed his eyes, shoving the memory back down. He had been strong enough to protect himself this time. He knew it wasn¡¯t the same.

    But the thoughts just kept coming.

    I broke his wrist. What if it never heals properly? What if it stays permanently inflamed?

    The burning of his own joints seemed to wash over him like a vengeful tide.

    But Lisa didn¡¯t seem to judge him.

    She motioned to the wall, and they sat down next to each other in silence. She nudged him with the tray. ¡°Breakfast?¡±

    It was a full post-apocalyptic rendition of the archetypical American breakfast, complete with sausage links, crispy hash browns, and a trio of weird purple eggs that seemed twice as big as normal eggs should have been.

    A gentle hand pressed into his back, and the inflammation that had begun to run red-hot cooled just a little.

    ¡°Thanks,¡± Tyler murmured, gratitude swelling in his chest. He didn¡¯t know what else to say, so he just began eating, letting the smell of potatoes and hot grease ground him in the moment.

    The breakfast was heavenly. Perhaps not by the standards of someone spoiled by modern convenience, but at this moment it was all he could ever ask for. Just something to fuel his starving body, and to shovel in his mouth so he didn¡¯t have to talk.

    He closed his eyes as he let his heart come down from the intensity of the past couple of minutes. It was incredible, how the mind could go from racing with adrenaline to completely deflated in so little time.

    ¡°You¡¯ve gone through some shit, haven¡¯t you?¡± Lisa prodded after a minute. ¡°Even before all this.¡±

    Tyler sighed. ¡°Yeah, I guess you could say that.¡±

    She looked at him with understanding eyes, chewing on her lip and gently grabbing his shoulder. She opened her mouth, then closed it again before chuckling and patting him on the back with a cheeky grin. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, we get into a lot of scuffles in post-apocalyptic society. Rhett especially ¡ª it¡¯s nice seeing him rushing off to the medbay for a change. I honestly think you should have roughed him up a little more. I dunno if any lesson can get through Rhett¡¯s thick skull without getting thoroughly beaten into it.¡±

    He paused mid-bite. ¡°Thanks.¡±

    That means a lot, actually.

    ¡°I should have known that fucker would have pulled something,¡± Lisa huffed, and Tyler suspected she was deliberately rambling because she could sense he wasn¡¯t ready to contribute to the conversation yet. ¡°He and his little mob only got here a month ago ¡ª apparently he had pre-apocalyptic connections with the Stormchasers¡¯ CEO or something. I almost challenged him to a duel because I was so fucking fed up about him harassing Brandon and my healer pals, but I¡¯m not a good matchup for him. I¡¯ve been telling Alberta she needs to kick them out, but with the skeleton invasion our branch needs all the advanced cultivators we can get.¡±

    She rolled her eyes. ¡°It wouldn¡¯t be like this if the Main Branch didn¡¯t keep stealing our Journeymen.¡±

    ¡°Stealing your Journeymen?¡± Tyler asked. That wasn¡¯t what he wanted to say, but none of the other thoughts seemed to coalesce into words. So he just asked the question and let Lisa do the talking.

    ¡°Yeah!¡± she fumed, shooting to her feet. ¡°Well, technically it¡¯s not stealing. If you get to Peak-Novice and you ¡®prove yourself¡¯ by the Eye¡¯s standards, you get the opportunity to advance to Journeyman. Sounds like a pretty sick deal, right? Except apparently the knowledge of how to advance is ¡®too dangerous¡¯ to be spread around, so you have to travel to the Main Branch and go unconscious while they do the procedure for you. And of course, the only way to get this benefit is to sign a magically-binding contract saying that you¡¯ll work exclusively for the Main Branch for two years. And wouldn¡¯t you know ¡ª they say that you get some input on where you¡¯re stationed, but barely anyone ever writes back to us. Even people who¡¯ve explicitly said that they¡¯re gonna be close enough to deliver magic mail.¡±

    Magically-binding contracts. That sounded unsettling.

    And he was starting to see the cracks in what had seemed like a unified organization.

    Lisa was pacing back and forth now, waving her hands frantically in the air. ¡°So they steal all our Peak-Novices who probably could have become Journeymen on their own if they didn¡¯t hoard all the knowledge to themselves, and then when we¡¯re threatened they charge us exorbitant fees just to send over Journeymen that we wouldn¡¯t have needed if they didn¡¯t poach all our talent! Brandon keeps trying to convince me to get on Emery¡¯s good side so that she¡¯ll vouch for me, but I think something fishy is going on.¡±

    She swiveled on him, as if something had just popped into her mind. ¡°Oh right! That was what I was going to ask you. How did you advance?¡±

    Tyler opened his mouth.

    ¡°I mean, I know you said your cultivation isn¡¯t normal, but you¡¯re still a Journeyman! Even if you¡¯re a bit unconventional, you¡¯ve clearly found something that works.¡±

    ¡°Well¡­¡± He scratched his head. ¡°Unconventional is maybe an understatement. I¡¯ve been trying to figure out how I can explain this well, but the reason why I don¡¯t have an aura is because I was forced to eat this Cursed fruit the moment the Dimensional Storm dropped me off. I had ¡ª and still have, really ¡ª this mix of inflammatory conditions, and there was no way I was surviving an hour without Awakening that instant. The main restriction of the Curse is that my mana can¡¯t go outside of my body at all, so if that¡¯s where your aura comes from, it would make sense that I don¡¯t have one.¡±

    Lisa whistled. ¡°Shit, dude. Really?¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡± Tyler leaned back against the wall, tracing the maze of pipes along the ceiling with his gaze. They were painted the same grey as the rest of the room, but the paint had flaked off in some places, revealing the beginnings of rust.

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    ¡°That¡¯s why I had to give back all those magic items too ¡ª I can¡¯t really use any of them, since my mana is trapped in here. And unfortunately, I also have no idea how to get to Journeyman. I was alone on an island for the first couple of months, and I didn¡¯t advance past Peak-Novice until this fight with this super-powerful bird monster. I honestly don¡¯t even remember much of the lead-up. It was crushing me with magic and I could feel my body collapsing in on itself and I was just so angry and desperate to survive¡­ and then next thing I know I¡¯m waking up over here.¡±

    ¡°Damn. That sounds¡­ really rough. I guess that would explain why you were so fucked up when we found you.¡± Lisa sat back down next to him, leaning against the wall in solidarity. ¡°It must have been a lot, going from all that to waking up here, and then having to fight that skeleton general right after. And then this.¡±

    Tyler titled his head. ¡°You know, oddly enough I think that skeleton thing actually helped. It let me put off thinking about things for a little longer, and I always feel more steady when I have something to do. Plus, winning always makes you feel a little better, y¡¯know?¡±

    ¡°Fuck, I get that,¡± she slapped the wall behind them. ¡°I so get that. But it¡¯s honestly incredible that you were even alive ¡ª that healing kick from advancement between stages must hit different. But when you say your mana can¡¯t go outside your body¡­¡±

    She looked at him with a mix of concern and confusion.

    He shrugged. ¡°I mean, you¡¯ve pretty much seen all I can do. I only have three techniques ¡ª one that enhances me all-around physically, another that lets me toughen my body for short periods of time, and the third¡¯s a cultivation pattern that I had to improvise because I can¡¯t cultivate normally. I¡¯ve tried so many others, but most of them require some amount of exterior mana.¡±

    There is that one technique, though. Maybe I¡¯ll be able to do it, now that I¡¯ve advanced again.

    Tyler realized she was still looking sadly at him and winced. ¡°It¡¯s not actually that bad. I have a shitload of mana to practice with, and Resilience seems like it¡¯s a good match for these kinds of things anyways. Even without any techniques I¡¯m stronger and much more durable, and I might heal a bit faster than normal too.¡±

    She nodded, stroking her chin in understanding. ¡°Then¡­ you wouldn¡¯t mind if I did this.¡±

    With an exaggerated wind-up motion, Lisa punched him in the arm.

    He was so taken by surprise that he didn¡¯t even do anything to block.

    ¡°Ow!¡± Lisa cursed as her fist bounced clean off his shoulder. ¡°This is why I¡¯m not a melee fighter. Ow, ow, ow!¡±

    Tyler stared at her as she tumbled backwards to the floor. She stared back, innocently clutching her hand as if randomly punching someone was a perfectly reasonable thing to do.

    And suddenly he was laughing.

    ¡°You know, it¡¯s not good to laugh at someone else¡¯s pain! If I weren¡¯t so nice that could be the start of a blood feud.¡± Lisa grinned.

    He tried to respond, but he couldn¡¯t stop himself from doubling over with a wheeze. He looked up at her, and she wagged a finger at him. Except it was from the hand that she¡¯d punched him with, so he could see where the bottom of it was a bit swollen.

    ¡°That isn¡¯t a very good way to make your point, you know.¡±

    ¡°Looks like someone really wants a blood feud. You know that would mean you¡¯d be in a blood feud with Brandon too. I think. I don¡¯t know how blood feuds work, actually. But the point still stands!

    After a while, Tyler gathered himself, and they sat back down against the wall. His entire body felt just a tad bit lighter.

    ¡°Thanks for that. For everything.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about,¡± the redhead said with a self-satisfied smile.

    Tyler took a deep breath, feeling the cool wall behind his back. I missed having friends. Friends are nice.

    After a moment, he sat back up. ¡°Do you think they can heal his wrist properly?¡±

    ¡°Rhett¡¯s?¡± Lisa looked at him with amusement. ¡°Man, you¡¯re a better person than I am. If I broke that dude¡¯s wrist I would have been praying that it sets slightly off. But yeah ¡ª you just fractured it, right?¡±

    ¡°I think?¡± Tyler blushed. ¡°I¡¯m not really sure, honestly. I didn¡¯t fully mean to ¡ª¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it, man. I don¡¯t know shit about healing other than just waving my mana at it and hoping it gets better, but our magical healers are dope, and he¡¯s a Peak-Novice anyways. They¡¯ll probably slap an enchanted cast on it and have it all better by next month. It¡¯s much harder to cause permanent injuries nowadays unless you¡¯re actually trying to,¡± she said with a shrug.

    ¡°That¡¯s good to know,¡± Tyler groaned.

    Even though he knew injury was so incredibly common in this new world, a part of him still felt relieved that it likely wouldn¡¯t be permanent.

    Why do I feel bad for him at all? After everything that he did?

    He wouldn¡¯t hesitate to do worse the moment Rhett threatened him or those around him again, but¡­

    Maybe he¡¯d just thought that having this kind of power would be enough to protect himself without causing even more pain.

    He was snapped out of his thoughts as Lisa looked at the entrance of the room with a scowl. ¡°Man, I wish I could just casually shrug off six dudes trying to attack me like that. I hate being so pathetic physically. I feel like the Aspect of Blood is supposed to make you super strong and tough, but I just can¡¯t figure it out. One of these days, I¡¯m gonna be able to curl Brandon. Mark my words.¡±

    ¡°Maybe I can help,¡± Tyler said wryly. ¡°That¡¯s about the only thing I do know how to do.¡±

    She nodded at that, leaning back against the wall. ¡°Man, and you said you improvised your cultivation technique?¡±

    ¡°Yeah? Is that bad?¡±

    ¡°No! At least, I don¡¯t think so. It¡¯s just that I¡¯ve never heard of anyone else doing that. Thought I was the only one.¡±

    Tyler¡¯s eyebrows raised.

    ¡°I make up all my techniques, actually. Brandon is always telling me to be careful, since none of us know how any of this shit works, but I mean, what was I supposed to do? Just not do anything? Because there¡¯s no fucking blood manuals out here. Same kinda thing as with you ¡ª obviously I would follow instructions if I had them, but there¡¯s nothing here that works for me like that. But apparently not everyone can just make up a technique on the spot.¡±

    ¡°Wow,¡± he whispered. ¡°Like, you could make one up right now and it would work?¡±

    Lisa shrugged. ¡°Maybe if you gave me like an hour?¡±

    ¡°Holy shit.¡±

    How many tries had it taken him before he¡¯d managed his first successful run of his cultivation technique? Granted, that had been a fundamental change to the core of the technique, but¡­

    ¡°That¡¯s awesome.¡±

    Lisa puffed out her chest, motioning for him to continue. ¡°Yes, yes. Keep praising me. Lisa Frie, cultivation prodigy and magnanimous judge of moral truth. Also expert healer, and best-looking markswoman in a thousand leagues.¡±

    Then, her smirk widened. ¡°I still can¡¯t believe you asked me to shoot you.¡±

    Tyler chuckled. ¡°I just needed some way to show you guys that I could take a hit. Thanks for going with it, by the way. But why¡¯d you think I had something going on here despite the lack of aura, anyways?¡±

    ¡°Oh, that?¡± Lisa grinned, pointing to his chest. ¡°It was all the blood. I¡¯ve never seen Blood Resonance that strong in a person before, not even from Alberta or other Journeymen. I told you ¡ª it¡¯s like you¡¯re on steroids!¡±

    ¡°Huh.¡±

    He supposed she had told him that. It was interesting, that Resonance correlation didn¡¯t necessarily line up evenly for both sides.

    Tyler was about to ask more when Lisa suddenly sat up, pulling out an inscribed silver talisman from her pocket. It looked similar to the one Brandon had used to communicate with Alberta, and this time he used the opportunity to push on his Analysis.

    Transmission Talisman

    This is a part of a two-artifact set, intended to be used by a practitioner of Wind or similar Aspects to speak with their allies over short distances. This talisman is spiritually linked with its twin, allowing both sides to be activated so long as at least one end is fed with compatible mana.

    Huh. Like a phone, but only one side can call.

    ¡°Yeah, we¡¯re in the first training room. No, I brought him breakfast! I wasn¡¯t goofing off, did you know Rhett showed up? Oh my god, you won¡¯t believe what happened. Oh. Oh. Oh shit, I totally forgot! Okay, telling him now. Bye!¡±

    Lisa turned to him, eyes sparkling with excitement and the slightest twinge of guilt. ¡°Okay, Brandon just called me. Good news ¡ª we can go talk with Alberta now! Isn¡¯t that great? Bad news¡­ we might already be late.¡±

    Tyler laughed. ¡°Lead the way.¡±

    As he jogged with Lisa down the halls, he felt his limbs twitching for action. The inflammation was still there, along with some lingering fatigue from the training. But Lisa¡¯s magic was doing its job, and as he circulated his mana and dashed through to the exit, he felt that same manic energy that had coursed through him during his training take over again.

    If everything went well, they¡¯d come out of that meeting with a plan to take down the outbreak at its source.

 Born as a Tree (April Fools Chapter)

    Hey guys, it''s me. The tree.

    You know, the one that was growing really big, making our main character really powerful, and then something something plot shenanigans, something something Dimensional Storm magic just casually whisked our protagonist away from me and now we don''t know what the fuck is going on? Yeah, that one.

    The last thing you saw of me was me getting rudely yanked out of the ground by a bird ¡ª which is quite an unfortunate fate for a tree like me, I must say. But you might be wondering what happened to me after all that.

    Well, luckily for you, this site seems to love stories about trees. So much so that the author realized that writing about a tree is way better for his numbers than writing about a lame human. So please ¡ª welcome me as your new main character.

    Now, before we get to where I¡¯m going, we have to first talk about where I¡¯ve been. Because every tree starts as a seed, you know. And well, for me ¡ª your dear old pal ¡ª I started from the mouthful of seed that our precocious main character spat out after a horny man with questionable views on consent shoved his banana down his throat.

    What? You think I¡¯m misrepresenting the incident and portraying a perfectly innocent ordeal with purposefully loaded phrases?

    Well, there¡¯s a reason this story¡¯s initials are SA. That¡¯s all I¡¯ll say about it.

    But yeah. Not a very stylish way to be born into the world, is it?

    But luckily for me, you, and our former main character, that banana happened to be magic.

    What is it like being inside a magic banana, you might ask? Well, it''s pretty much the same as a normal banana.

    What''s it like being inside a normal banana, you might ask? Good question. I have no idea. I didn¡¯t gain consciousness until what I believe to be a couple of days later, when this fucker decided to bleed all over me and then spill bug guts on my face.

    As gross as the experience was, I guess I do have to thank the bath and body fluid works for giving me life ¡ª and the sentience.

    How sentient was I, you might ask? Well, as sentient as you can be, really, when you¡¯re a sprout without a brain or any sort of nervous system or capacity for emotions.

    Self-awareness? Huh. Don¡¯t know where I ever got that.

    But yeah, I don¡¯t know ¡ª at some point between being planted, covered with more disgusting bodily fluids that I don¡¯t want to think about, and finally growing into a big healthy tree, feasting on lobster every day and being sad about how I might never see the Sun again, I guess somewhere along the way I grew a little magic brain or something.

    I don¡¯t fucking know. What am I saying? Stick to the script. Tree, come on.

    Anyways ¡ª yeah. So I was living this fantastic life, as all trees do, when a certain tingly sensation began happening at my roots. And honestly, I really gotta take the blame for this one, guys. You know, but coming from a tree whose entire history up until this point has been defined by the presence of bodily fluids, maybe you gotta cut me some slack for not being able to hold in all my magic, okay?

    So some of it slipped out. And I might have interacted with some magical plot shenanigans circuitry thingies. And that may or may not have called the giant Dimensional Storm upon the island. Which then summoned the birds.

    One of which began trying to tear me out from the ground.

    And then our former main character tried to stop it.

    And then he may or may not have gotten whisked away while I ¡ª the tree ¡ª stayed firmly rooted in the ground, as is normal.

    And yeah, that¡¯s about where we left off.

    What did I do then, you might ask?

    Well, it¡¯s not like a tree can do much in terms of self-protection.

    Well, I guess that¡¯s not true. I know there¡¯s like poisonous trees, and you have bark. If you extend your definition of tree to be any plant, you have things like Venus flytraps or things with little barbs or spores and such. But I mean ¡ª come on, guys. I¡¯m a fucking banana tree. What do you expect me to do? Like wave my little big leaves at the bird until it goes away?

    I wasn¡¯t built for self-defense.

    So bit by bit, that stupid little fucker tore me from the ground.

    But that bird kind of miscalculated, you see, because I live inside of a cave ¡ª and the hole that the bird was trying to get me through was way smaller than my actual girth. And if you know anything about trying to fit large things through small holes, you know trying to do it while my bark is dry and covered in sand is surely one of the worst ways to go about it.

    But the bird was really trying, you know, and you do gotta commend its effort.

    I had my leaves falling out, my bulb smashed to pieces, my trunk was getting a bit demolished ¡ª and it¡¯s really funny, because if you actually think about the geometry of the situation, it actually would have been possible to fit me through that hole if it had just gone top first.

    It¡¯s kind of like watching a dog trying to get a stick through the fence. And it¡¯s so easy if the dog just fucking turns sideways ¡ª but of course, no dog is smart enough to do it, so they all just sit there perplexed until some human decides to help them.

    Hey, what was I talking about?

    Oh yeah, right. So I was just getting bashed against the stone ¡ª absolutely demolished ¡ª and at some point I think I just got fed up with the bird.

    I mean, you would be fed up too if for the entire course of your life you were peacefully sitting in some nice soil ¡ª albeit soil that has been constantly tainted by excrement ¡ª but then suddenly this little fucker decides to rip you from the floor and dumbly take you from the cave.

    Because it really is dumbly, right? That¡¯s the biggest insult.

    But at a certain point, I got so fed up that I guess my new magic powers must have awakened ¡ª because one moment I was this large, helpless banana tree with no way to ever defend myself, and the next I sprouted 256 different arms from my trunk, each bearing a different symbol of power drawn from the ancient Mermian traditions of the Hinjalatipar Empire.

    What the fuck did I just say?

    Anyways ¡ª yeah. So I sprouted 256 little arms.

    What kind of arms, you might ask? Human arms? Insect arms? Robot arms?

    Well, they¡¯re actually firearms. Yeah, double-barrel shotguns.

    With a host of firepower now adorning my fine physique, I quickly activated the new innate sense that I had for my body to fire every gun on my body at the same time.

    Now, you might be thinking ¡ª wow, that must have been really destructive.

    And you would have been right.

    Because you see, not only were these arms numerous, but also ¡ª given that I am a magical tree ¡ª it¡¯s only fitting that my magical arms shoot magical ammo. And so for each arm, I shot a new ferocious projectile representing the pinnacle of all magic.

    What is the pinnacle of all magic, you might ask?

    Well, let¡¯s go back to its roots. What¡¯s the first thing you think when you think of a magician? A guy in a suit pulling a bunny out of a hat, right?

    Well, just imagine that instead of a hat, it¡¯s the end of a double-barreled shotgun. And instead of a magician, it¡¯s a sentient tree pushing the bunny out with all his non-existent willpower. And the bunnies are murderers.

    Oh, and there¡¯s 256 of them. I find that you humans with your primitive little brains have trouble picturing things at scale (I¡¯m looking at you, multiversal-level cultivation endgames), so I laid out a little visual for you.

    Here¡¯s one bunny:

    / /

    ( '' >

    / rr

    *\) )_

    What? You thought I was going to give you 256 of them? Yeah, me too. But copy-pasting ASCII art into neat little rows is apparently really hard. Especially since the font that the author uses in the docs he¡¯s writing this in is different from the font RR uses in the chapter editor, which is again different from the font RR uses in the actual chapter display.

    Oh wait! I guess he figured it out!

    I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I

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    If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

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    ¡­ Edit: Nevermind. Looks like RR gets rid of all excess white space when you save a chapter, and the author forgot how text wrapping around works. Then again, it''s probably small enough that you guys can''t even decipher what they are. So just pretend that they''re whole rabbits... oh, who am I kidding? Now you guys just have to deal with that big mess of rabbit parts, I guess. Which is very relevant, because that¡¯s also what I had to deal with after that fight with the bird.

    So instantly, the cave was filled with an army of murderous white rabbits, who all immediately honed in on that stupid fucking bird.

    For all the Savage Awakening fans here, by the way ¡ª your main character taught you good about birds.

    By the way, how the heck are there so many of you? The author of this story was literally an editor for two books with around the same amount of followers as Savage Awakening, but the conversion he got from those two combined is like half of the number of you guys that came over from Savage Awakening. That¡¯s kind of crazy, to be honest.

    I mean, I¡¯m just a talking magic tree, so I don¡¯t know anything about writing web serials ¡ª but kudos to you guys, I guess.

    Maybe it¡¯s the shirtless guy on the cover.

    Actually, that¡¯s most definitely probably the shirtless guy on the cover, isn¡¯t it?

    Yeah.

    But yeah ¡ª Savage Awakening. Pretty good story, you know? I like the main character. He¡¯s a lot less whiny than the one for this story, like ¡°wah-wah, inflammation,¡± ¡°wah-wah, trapped in a cave,¡± ¡°oh my life is so hard because I have to fight lobsters every day.¡±

    You know the crazy part about this guy? He isn''t even original.

    Yeah. I looked up this author''s last story, and turns out this main character is a complete carbon copy of the girl from his other work from four years ago. Same tragic backstory, living of semi-normal life up until some life altering incident right as they were reaching adulthood. And then spiraling off into depression and struggling with some disability until the system apocalypse happens ¡ª or sorry, litRPG apocalypse ahem Tao Wong please don''t sue me ¡ª and then they get some magic power that among other things helps to heal their disability and gives them the ability to train more than anyone else and become a physical force like the world has never seen.

    Yeah. This guy really does have a one track mind, doesn''t he? There''s no banana trees in the other one, though, which obviously makes it inferior.

    But yeah. Come on, guy. You have access to all four of your limbs. Meanwhile, the girl before you only had her two arms. And me?

    For all of my existence I have been rooted in ground, trapped in internal pain due to the philosophical torture of being a thinking tree with no power to do anything.

    And now that I do have limbs, they¡¯re fucking shotguns that shoot out magic bunnies.

    I guess that last part isn¡¯t a con, really. But I mean ¡ª come on, guy. You¡¯re a LitRPG protagonist. Stop complaining so much already.

    What was I saying?

    Oh yeah. Savage Awakening. Yeah, great story. Much better than either of this author¡¯s copy-pasted drivel.

    I gotta say though, I am not a fan of how he was beating up those tree people in that one dungeon. That was a massive blow against my distant cousins right there.

    Though, I guess my other distant cousins are demonic trees that eat people and such, so I can¡¯t really judge.

    But yeah ¡ª it¡¯s a pretty cool story, you know? If you guys like this one, maybe you should go check it out.

    I hear the author used to be just as buff as the main character back in the day ¡ª but then he got into rock climbing.

    Why is rock climbing such a big thing now, you know? What about tree climbing? People used to do that back in the day.

    Though, you don¡¯t really climb banana trees, I guess, so I wouldn¡¯t have benefited from it anyway.

    But I mean ¡ª come on, guys. You¡¯re doing all this, paying so much to go inside and climb a wall? What happened to going outside into nature? There¡¯s rocks in nature too. Just FYI.

    And what¡¯s this thing about harnesses and stuff? If you fall, you fall. Die like your ancestors did.

    I will probably die like my ancestors did ¡ª getting cut down for wood to make the very paper of the books that you¡¯re reading.

    Yeah, I¡¯m eyeing you.

    I know this is just a web serial and there¡¯s no paper to read it from, but the screen that you¡¯re using still consumes energy to light it up. Where do you think that energy comes from, huh?

    And don¡¯t say oil, natural gas, nuclear, whatever. Everyone knows all that is fake.

    The only real source of energy is from trees.

    Trees, dead trees, and soon-to-be trees.

    Trees are the source of all power.

    Just ask any person about the food chain.

    But yeah, speaking of rock climbing ¡ª did you know that the author of Soulweaver and Ashborn Primordial is going to climb Mount Everest, like, right now?

    That¡¯s crazy, right? Like, you always hear about Mount Everest in turns of phrase and shit, talking about how big or insurmountable something is ¡ª but climbing it in real life? I didn¡¯t realize that was something people did.

    I wonder if our main character could climb Mount Everest. He is pretty strong, I guess, but would he be able to acclimate to the low oxygen environment and resist whining about his inflamed joints for long enough to make it to the top?

    Who knows.

    And what about Mount Tai, huh? I¡¯m very glad to pronounce that, as a being without eyes, you will never be able to say to me that I have eyes but cannot see Mount Tai.

    And this is a very crucial defense, especially in this world that is very cultivation-inspired. I mean, why do they even call it a LitRPG in the first place? The System¡¯s barely done anything for the last like five chapters.

    And what¡¯s up with this whole worldbuilding thing anyway, right? Like why¡¯d we go from this tiny island to this huge city place ¡ª and where are we gonna go next? The suburbs?

    Ha ha ha¡­ ha ha ha.

    (We are actually going to the suburbs eventually ¡ª but it will be combined with Mount Everest. Mark my words. You¡¯ll see it when you see it.)

    Anyways, what? What were we saying?

    Nothing?

    Oh yeah. Anyways.

    Yeah, the bird. That¡¯s what I was talking about.

    The bird¡¯s really interesting, you know, because when faced with 256 killer bunnies, most organisms would simply flee. But this is a magic bird ¡ª so even though it¡¯s battling magic bunnies, not all hope is lost.

    But the bunnies are fast, and especially since there are 256 of them, they manage to rush the bird and hop around it at all sides. Maybe they like coordinated their jumps together so that they could actually form a complete bunny sphere around the bird and make sure that it had no avenues of escape.

    But like any badass anime character caught in the middle of a bunch of rabble that have no backstory or lives, the bird just let the bunnies pile on top of it before bursting outward in a blaze of white on red.

    Those poor bunnies. All they wanted to do was murder.

    But luckily for myself, the bunny onslaught bought me enough time to reload my 256 bunny shotguns, and at this point I had grown more used to this new control that I had over myself.

    I straightened myself onto my roots with a couple of quickly timed bunny shots, and then I revolved all my bunny guns around until all 256 of them were facing the bird.

    The bird cawed at me ¡ª which I really don¡¯t know how to interpret, because it¡¯s been cawing at me the entire time and it¡¯s not like I can speak bird, you know.

    By the way, I think relations between trees and birds would be much better if we could speak bird.

    Like, come on guys ¡ª stop building your nests in us. It¡¯s not that funny.

    Especially woodpeckers, man. Fuck woodpeckers.

    I know I¡¯m a banana tree and I don¡¯t have any immediate threat of woodpecker invasion, but god, you guys are such parasites.

    What? Woodpeckers actually eat the parasites inside of trees?

    Oh. Oh shit.

    Well, ignore everything I just said. Woodpeckers are actually my favorite animal.

    But this bird guy definitely was not a woodpecker, because he was a living leech who wanted nothing more than to steal all my magical energy.

    This is a valuable lesson, kids.

    Protect your energy ¡ª because you never know who in your life is going to be draining it.

    Really gotta cut people out, you know?

    Especially when they¡¯re fucking with you like this bird is doing to me.

    But yeah. Magic bird versus another 256 magic murder bunnies. Who do you think would win?

    Well, when it comes to scenarios like this, it¡¯s always good to look at the food chain. It¡¯s kinda like a real-life version of Pokemon type advantages, you know? By the way, how come all the Pokemon professors are named after trees? I want a Pokemon professor named after me.

    What¡¯s my name? I dunno, I don¡¯t have one. But just you wait ¡ª generation 10¡¯s Professor Banana is gonna rock your world.

    Anyways, type advantages. Like fire beats grass, tiger beats¡­ I actually don¡¯t know what tigers normall prey on. Tigers live in the jungle, right? What types of animals are in the jungle? Snakes?

    Do tigers eat snakes?

    I never saw that Jungle Book movie. Or the Jungle Book¡­ book.

    But I¡¯m sure tigers eat something. Maybe birds. That would be nice.

    But unfortunately, birds are above bunnies on the food chain. So just like my [ask tulio for a pokemon reference], there is no amount of bunnies that could possibly defeat this magic bird.

    They tried their best, but in the end all that happened was another 256 bunny deaths. Good thing they reproduce fast, right?

    But yeah, I was really cornered now. Truly without hope. I shot out another 256 murder bunnies in a futile effort to hold off the bird, but the predatory magical flying creatures seemed to have congregated now. The bird had called its friends, and together they demolished my latest bunny onslaught in record time.

    So yeah. Really the end of the line, right? Was that it for our handsomest tree protagonist?

    No.

    You see, we were in the middle of a certain Dimensional Storm.

    And what brings birds also brings their natural predators.

    Tigers.

    A ferocious roar sounded off in the distance, and a blur of black and¡­ oh. Just black actually. But a blur of black streaked through the air, landing onto the closest magical bird and tearing through its neck. The bird let out a strangled caw (I still don¡¯t know what that means, by the way) and instantly died.

    I was saved!

    I finally got a glimpse of the majestic tiger that had saved me. It landed deftly on four oddly small paws, reared up an also oddly small head, and violently¡­ hacked up a hairball.

    Then it roared again, with the most awe-inspiring noise that ever came within a hundred knots of my tree ears.

    ¡°Meow.¡±

    What? You don¡¯t think that¡¯s a tiger?

    Pshh. I know my animals. That¡¯s clearly something that preys on birds. An apex feline predator of great agility and skill.

    As I glimpsed my savior, it turned to me, regal and mighty in its cadence. Then it bravely started scratching at me, which was not good for my bark. Tigers have such sharp claws. Even when they¡¯re small.

    And then¡­ well, I¡¯d thought I¡¯d had enough bodily fluids for a lifetime.

    And so, alas, this was how your brave tree main character¡¯s day ended ¡ª surrounded by magic birds, in the company of a tiny tiger who was doing the whole circular narrative thing and taking me back to my roots. Roots which, by the way, had been uprooted from the floor and partially replaced with 256 double-barrel shotguns that shoot out magic bunnies.

    I would like to point out that tiny tigers are also the natural predators of bunnies, but that¡¯s a story for another day.

    Wanna find out what happens next? Then subscribe on Patreon! Or, well, at least that¡¯s what I¡¯m supposed to say, right? This guy doesn¡¯t even have a Patreon. Huh. Would you guys be interested if he made one?

    I¡¯m a talking magic tree, of course, so I personally would never subscribe to any service that funds the chopping of my brethren in order to turn their bodies into books. But everyone has their own reservations about things that other people find very normal, and I hear that¡¯s what you¡¯re supposed to do nowadays on the Royal Roads and stuff. And getting some donations would make things go by a little smoother.

    After all, money doesn¡¯t grow on trees.