-[...Pathetic…]-
That voice—familiar, haunting—echoes from nowhere and everywhere at once. It slithers into my mind at the exact moment something changes. Not just within me… but also around. The air, the space, the flow of time itself twists unnaturally.
Everything slows.
Slower.
Even slower still.
Until nothing moves at all.
The dust suspended in front of my face floats like frozen snowflakes, motionless in the stilled world around me. Time has completely stopped.
"You're actually quite strong," the voice continues—smooth, casual, yet laced with something dangerous.
"Honestly, I've never seen a creature fight so instinctively, so viciously, in pure raw combat."
"That's why I didn't want to break you by giving this to you too soon. But… Well, think of this as a gift from me. Or a curse, if you prefer—either name fits."
A cold breath brushes the back of my neck—this something pressing close, as if it needs me to understand, needs this to sink deep into my bones...
"Yeah, indeed… That is correct… I do want you to take my warning, o fragile little human... once you get used to my gift, it'll be very hard to stop. So don't make me ruin you too much, yeah?"
"Now I'll show you how to use it…"
╔════════════════════════════════════════════ ╗
║ ⌈ Skill Acquisition Window ⌋ ║
╠════════════════════════════════════════════ ╣
║ ▶ Name: **Deon Ravenheart** ║
║ ▶ New Skill Acquired! ║
║ ║
║ ✦ Skill Name: **[Chronofracture]** ║
║ Type: **Active / Temporal Hex** ║
║ Cost: **??? Sanity** ║
║ ──────────────────────────────── ║
║ ║
║ ▶ Effect: ║
║ • Rewinds time by up to 10 seconds. ║
║ • Costs **permanent Sanity stats** ║
║ • Sanity erosion increases based ║
║ on depth of regression. ║
║ ║
║ ▶ Warning: Overuse may cause ║
║ permanent mental fractures. ║
║ ║
╚════════════════════════════════════════════ ╝
The voice cuts off—just for a heartbeat—before a cold whisper ripples through the frozen silence.
"Oryn."
And with that single word, everything around me—including myself—lurches backward in time, dragging us five seconds into the past. Movements rewind in a blur, like the world is being fast-forwarded in reverse... until everything begins to slow again, then halt, before gradually resuming its forward pace—right at the moment I'm still sprinting out of the cloud of dust, charging toward the iron cage.
But now's not the time to question what just happened. That much is clear. So I shove every thought aside and focus. I run. I leap with everything I have—muscles straining, air roaring past me—and this time, my hands catch the iron bars of the gate's frame. Solid grip. Perfect reach. And they're there—those four—waiting.
Without a word, they grab hold of me, pulling me up while keeping their bodies between mine and the restless swarm behind us, ready in case anyone tries to take advantage of the moment and push me off.
I drop to my knees the moment I'm clear—head bowed, hands pressed to the elevator floor, breath ragged in my throat as I try to steady myself. I'm doing my best to hide the status window flickering open in front of me, hoping no one notices how long I stare at it.
After all, this window… It looks different.
Worse.
Far worse than usual.
And whatever it's showing me—I can't ignore it. I don't even have a choice.
╔════════════════════════════════════════════ ╗
║ ⌈ System Notification ⌋ ║
╠════════════════════════════════════════════ ╣
║ ▶ Skill Activated: **[Chronofracture]** ║
║ ║
║ ⚠ Cost Incurred: ║
║ -5 ❖ **Sanity** (Permanent) ║
║ ║
║ Current Sanity: **30 ➤ 25** ║
╚════════════════════════════════════════════ ╝
My sanity stat... permanently reduced?
That's the price?
I glance at the number—lower than before, marked with a faint red hue, as if the system itself is warning me. The five sanity points I earned from my last two level-ups... gone. Just like that. And if it keeps dropping… then what?
The logical answer comes on its own: I'll lose myself.
Not die. Just… go insane.
That's what happens when sanity hits zero, right?
~~~~~
And then, just like that... it's over.
The chaos fades.
The chamber falls quiet.
And so we move—slowly—down that long, dark corridor, each step echoing against the cold stone. Their faces are blank, unreadable, like this kind of silence has become routine, like the weight no longer crushes them.
I even catch bits of laughter, soft banter, lighthearted chatter from the other kids nearby, as if what happened back there was already just another memory.
But I remain silent.
Still.
Trying to convince myself that it's finally safe—safe enough to start processing what really happened back there.
"Oryn..."
I have absolutely no memory of that word ever existing. No hint of it lingers in my mind, no meaning, no context—nothing. And I'm damn sure about one thing…
Whoever—whatever—whispered that word to me made it up on the spot. It didn't know anything about the word either. It just threw out a sound—completely random—and decided that would be the name of the spell.
"That boy… Garrik said you both hit level 6. How?"
Suddenly, a girl slaps my shoulder—not gently—she asks with a smile that doesn't quite match her usual self, snapping me out of the spiral I was just caught in.
And she's not alone... Standing beside her is the same girl who helped Garrik and me climb into the elevator earlier. Small and wiry frame, a stark contrast to Siona's sturdier build. Her hair is longer too, sleeker—healthier.
Posture is timid, like she might topple over if someone so much as brushed past her. Both hands are clasped in front of her chest, fingers nervously rubbing against one another.
And one more thing.
Ah, right... her face is undeniably more attractive than Siona's.
Still, I try to ignore the odd vibe and keep things light.
"What's with that look on your face? You seem… weirdly happy."
"I found myself a new friend."
"That's not enough to make you this cheerful. What's really going on here?"
"I found myself… a new friend… Her name's Eirwen… Thornebrand." She repeats the words—slower this time, almost deliberately.
"Nah… I'm not buying it."
Siona grabs my arm and pulls me a few steps away from the group, just far enough to whisper sharply, "Can't you just go along with it for once? I've been trying so hard to make her feel less scared—less anxious!"
"What is this? Some kind of joke? Siona, is your judgment off today or something?"
"Just say what you need to say!"
"It's obvious she's pretending to be weak."
"Oh, I didn't think you'd be that heartless," Siona mutters with a disappointed glare before turning away and walking back toward the skinny girl.
But this… this is what really gets under my skin.
Not the girl I barely know—but Siona. Or more specifically, the way she's acting. It's not like her. Not like the Siona from yesterday.
So I follow after them, grumbling under my breath.
"This just doesn't make any sense. Then how the hell did she survive two whole days here without dying, huh?"
"She has an incredibly high Luck stat," Siona defends, arms crossed, her tone firm.
"There's no such thing as a Luck stat in this world," I shoot back, frowning.
"As if you know anything about this world," she snaps. "You're the one with amnesia, remember?" Then the girl raises her hand and jabs a finger toward my chest.
"Observe this."
She mutters a chant—just a basic one. The kind used to summon a standard stats window. And sure enough, mine appears… empty of anything remotely related to Luck. Just the usual layout. That is, until she utters one more word—quiet, deliberate.
"Thyren..."
╔════════════════════════════════════════════ ╗
║ ⌈ Advanced Status Window ⌋ ║
╠════════════════════════════════════════════ ╣
║ ▶ Strength: 25 ║
║ ▶ Agility: 64 ← [Main Stat] ║
║ ▶ Arcane: 21 ║
║ ▶ Essence: 19 ║
║ ▶ Sanity: 25 ║
║ ▶ Intelligence: 25 ║
╠════════════════════════════════════════════ ╣
║ ▶ Luck: 4 ║
║ ▶ Charisma: 29 ║
║ ▶ Prowess: 45 ← [STR + AGI] ║
║ ▶ Spellforce: 23 ← [STR + ARC] ║
║ ▶ Fortitude: 25 ← [STR + SAN] ║
║ ▶ Swiftcast: 43 ← [AGI + ARC] ║
║ ▶ Instinct: 45 ← [AGI + SAN] ║
║ ▶ Willpower: 23 ← [ARC + SAN] ║
╚════════════════════════════════════════════ ╝
"Oh, you gotta be shitting me…" I mutter, staring at the screen in disbelief. "Why the hell am I only seeing this now?"
"Because you never asked," Siona replies casually. "And really, why would you? Sub-stats aren't exactly something most people bother with."
"Is that actually true?"
"Yeah… Aside from Luck and Charisma, the rest are just calculated combinations of two or more of your core stats—so nobody really talks about them."
"I see…" But there's no way it's that simple, right? I mean, all these sub-stats wouldn't even exist if they didn't matter.
There has to be spells—or maybe even skills—that require very specific stat setups to use. Like a spell that only activates if your Arcane is at least fifty. But then there could be another one that doesn't need that much Arcane... maybe it just needs a combination of Arcane and something else, as long as the total meets a threshold.
Maybe it's a system designed to let people access a wider variety of unique spells—ones that are flexible but still exclusive to certain builds. I don't know. Something like that, probably.
"So? What about hers, then? How much Luck does she even have?" I ask after a long silence… And instead of answering with words, the girl just shares a window with me.
Luck: 59
Charisma: 61
I try not to dwell on the fact that her Charisma is absurdly high—that's a rabbit hole I'm not mentally prepared to crawl into right now.
I keep my focus on the number that actually matters. And only then I turn to the one standing between us. "Hey... Siona. What's the average Luck stat for most people if I may ask?"
"Fifteen," She says flatly.
"Damn…"
"Now you get it?" Siona murmurs, like she's just uncovered a secret stash of gold. "The highest I've ever seen in my life was twenty. Tops."
"So you think that by stealing this girl and keeping her close, some of her luck will rub off on you too?"
"Wow. Is that really how low you see me?" Siona huffs. "During the climbing trial, she slipped—right above me. I just happened to catch her. Since then, we've stuck together."
"You're making it sound like you've known each other for years," I mutter, irritation slipping into my voice. "And I still can't fully trust her. I don't know why, but I've got this gut feeling she's pretending to be weaker than she actually is."
"Well, whatever you think, my mind's made up—she stays."
That smile of hers… I think it's real, but not in the way most people would assume. It feels like the kind that surfaces out of pure desperation. Like she's clinging to the smallest sliver of hope—no matter how fragile—and convincing herself it's a massive leap toward finally escaping this place. And honestly… I don't have the heart to crush that.
So, fine. She stays.
But I'll be keeping a very close eye on this suspicious little wildcard—for now.
~~~~~