The Lower Residential District felt different after Crimson Bloom. Not the buildings or the people—they were as indifferent as always—but how I moved through them. Each step calculated, each motion precise. Twenty-two percent contribution as a Level 1. The numbers hummed in my mind as I trudged back to my unit.
Kell's warning echoed with each footfall: "Those fractures didn't just affect space-time. They affected you too..."
I didn't need a mirror to know he was right. The fractures had left their mark—threads of dimensional energy that occasionally flashed across my vision like lightning through storm clouds. When I manipulated hazards, they intensified, burning behind my retinas.
My status screen pulsed with notifications I'd been avoiding since extraction:
[ATTRIBUTE POINT AVAILABLE: 1]
[ABILITY SELECTION AVAILABLE: 1]
The attribute point was easy—Speed. Not Force like most physical raiders prioritized. Movement efficiency would compensate for my limitations more effectively than raw power. With a single thought, the allocation was done:
SPEED: 1 → 2 (BASELINE)
One measly point. Little more than a stepping stone, but every second counted in a rift. What could I accomplish with real speed?
The ability selection was more complex. You unlocked an ability at Level 2 and then at every new tier going forward my next ability would be at Level 10. I had to make sure to select something immediately impactful. I collapsed onto my cot, the springs protesting under my weight as I pulled up the holographic interface. Three options shimmered before me I could select 1 out of 3 options:
1. Controlled Hazard Recursion
Type: Environmental, Cost: 10% Stamina
Effect: Automatically reapply your last hazard manipulation at 50% effectiveness within 10 seconds. Recursion bypasses mana cost but applies Fracture Charge conditions immediately.
2. Dimensional Backlash Redirect
Type: Transformative, Cost: 10% Total HP
Effect: For 8 seconds, redirect 30% of fracture backlash to nearby hazards/monsters as raw dimensional damage. Cannot reduce Fracture Charge count, but dilutes their immediate danger.
3. Reactive Fracture Tether
Type: Movement, Cost: None (Passive)
Effect: When a Fracture Charge accumulates, gain +50% Speed and +100% Hazard Detection range for 3 seconds. Cannot trigger while Exhaustion is over 75.
I weighed each against what I knew about DOMAIN ENGINE—and my survival chances.
Controlled Hazard Recursion looked tempting at first glance: automatically reapplying manipulations at 50% effectiveness. Chain inversions without additional mana cost. But the fine print was damning—it would apply fracture charges immediately. With my current control, that meant accelerating toward dimensional backlash that had nearly killed Kell's team.
Dimensional Backlash Redirect had a different problem: 10% of my current HP. Looking at my status the math was brutal. A few redirects would leave me vulnerable to even normal-class monsters. In F-tier, every hit point mattered.
I kept returning to the third option. Reactive Fracture Tether. No mana cost. No HP sacrifice. A passive that turned my greatest liability into momentary advantage.
REACTIVE FRACTURE TETHER
Type: Movement, Cost: None (Passive)
Effect: When a Fracture Charge accumulates, gain +50% Speed and +100% Hazard Detection range for 3 seconds. Cannot trigger while Exhaustion is over 75.
I mulled over the implications, running probability calculations. DOMAIN ENGINE generated one fracture charge per manipulation. Three charges triggered devastating dimensional backlash. With Tether, each charge would provide three seconds of enhanced mobility—nine seconds of boost per full cycle.
It wasn't a solution to fractures. It was a bridge.
By the time sleep finally pulled me under, my decision was made.
Three days later, Rift Management Center's screens filled with incoming anomalies. F-tier slots were abundant—too abundant. The Network was experiencing what the projections had warned about: decreased raider participation as F-tier rifts became less profitable compared to the risk.
I scrolled through options, looking for something specific. Not another group raid. Something I could handle alone.
The notification flashed across my interface:
[F-12785: SHATTERED PEAKS]
Base Requirement: Secure 5 Stabilization Pillars
Terrain: Mountainous, Gravitational Anomalies
Entry Fee: 99 credits
My fingers hovered over the purchase option. Solo clearance meant ten times the entry fee, but potentially ten times the rewards. The math seemed simple enough: spend 990 credits from my 1436 total, potentially earn 14360+ if I succeeded.
If.
That was the calculation everyone else was making too. That "if" had grown too large for most F-tiers.
I transferred the credits and reserved all ten slots. My status pinged with confirmation, and I gathered my improved equipment—reinforced utility cutter, proper armor though still F-tier quality, and rejuvenation supplies I'd purchased with Crimson Bloom earnings.
At the deployment gate, the attendant raised an eyebrow at my solo reservation.
"Confident, aren't we?" she remarked, checking my credentials.
I didn't respond. This wasn't about confidence. It was about necessity. My trait was too unpredictable for group coordination—Tommen and Sorii's deaths proved that. Better to risk only my own life than carry more deaths on my conscience.
The gate hummed, reality folded, and—
Cold. That was my first sensation. Biting, thin air that tore at my lungs with each breath. I stood on a narrow ledge overlooking a vast canyon system, jagged peaks rising around me. The sun—unnaturally bright—illuminated shattered mountainsides and floating islands of rock suspended by gravitational anomalies.
[F-TIER RIFT SHATTERED PEAKS]
Base Requirement: Secure 5 Stabilization Pillars.
Alternative Path: None
My DOMAIN ENGINE immediately highlighted dozens of hazards within range. Gravity wells pulsed like heartbeats throughout the canyon system. Unstable platforms glowed with warning signatures. Wind tunnels carved invisible paths through the peaks, powerful enough to fling unprepared raiders into the abyss.
Perfect.
I cataloged each anomaly, mapping them against the terrain. Five stabilization pillars appeared as faint energy signatures scattered across the canyon network. The nearest was approximately two kilometers away, across a field of gravity-warped stone.
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"Let's see what you can do," I muttered to myself, focusing on my new ability.
The first test came at a chasm too wide to jump. Below, knife-like rock formations promised death if I miscalculated. Ahead, a gravity well pulsed with malevolent energy, strong enough to crush bones. With careful aim, I used Negate Hazard on a portion of the well, creating a safe passage.
The familiar sensation of dimensional strain crawled through my nerves as a Fracture Charge accumulated. Instantly, Reactive Fracture Tether activated. Energy surged through my muscles, boosting my Speed by 50%. The world seemed to slow fractionally, hazards becoming more distinct in my perception.
I launched myself across the chasm, covering ground faster than should have been possible with my base attributes. Five seconds of heightened mobility—enough to clear two more obstacles before the effect faded.
The strategy formed naturally: accumulate charges strategically, use the speed bursts to navigate the most dangerous terrain, and avoid hitting three charges until absolutely necessary.
The system worked until I encountered my first monsters—Gravity Leeches. Bulbous creatures that manipulated local gravitational fields to trap prey. Three of them sensed my approach, immediately warping gravity around me. My feet left the ground as conflicting forces pulled me in different directions.
With no direct combat ability, I relied on environmental manipulation. I Inverted Hazard on a nearby gravity well, causing it to repel rather than attract. The second Fracture Charge triggered another speed boost, letting me maneuver through the chaotic gravitational battlefield.
The utility cutter sliced through the first Leech's membrane, releasing stored gravitational energy that sent the creature spiraling away. The second lunged, latching onto my arm with surprising force. Pain shot through the limb as it began extracting raw dimensional energy.
I slammed it against a rock face, but it held tight. My HP dropped steadily—87, 82, 75—as it fed. Desperate, I Created Hazard, manifesting a localized gravity spike beneath the creature. The sudden crushing force ruptured its body.
Three Fracture Charges accumulated. The dimensional backlash was immediate.
Reality cracked like glass around me. The fracture tore open, pulling in a hazard from another dimension entirely—a caustic fog that ate through metal and organic matter alike. My armor sizzled on contact, durability dropping rapidly.
But Reactive Fracture Tether had triggered three times in succession, giving me fifteen seconds of enhanced speed. I sprinted through the dissolving landscape, outrunning the worst of the dimensional cascade.
By the time I reached the first stabilization pillar, my armor was at 43% durability, and I'd consumed half my supplies. The pillar itself—a crystalline structure taller than two men—pulsed with unstable energy. Activating it required channeling my own dimensional attunement through specific nodes along its surface.
As I worked, the structure stabilized, its erratic energy patterns settling into steady rhythms. One down, four to go.
I developed a pattern over the next nine days. Each morning, I'd plan routes using my enhanced hazard detection, identifying gravity wells and wind tunnels I could manipulate to my advantage. I'd accumulate one or two Fracture Charges deliberately to trigger speed boosts for difficult terrain, but never hit three unless I had clear escape routes.
The second pillar stood on a floating island accessible only via wind tunnels. I timed my manipulations carefully—Inverting a downdraft into an updraft, using the speed boost from the Fracture Tether to navigate the aerial obstacle course.
The third pillar presented a different challenge, surrounded by temporal anomalies that randomly accelerated or decelerated anything within their radius. I watched as a rock formation aged centuries in seconds, crumbling to dust. Another reverted to magma, then cooled into new configurations.
I waited, calculating intervals. With Amplify Hazard, I intensified a time-dilation field that showed consistent patterns, creating a bubble of accelerated time. Inside it, my movements blurred, letting me pass through what would have been hours of exposure in mere minutes.
Three Fracture Charges accumulated, and reality buckled again. This time, the dimensional tear extracted something alive—a swarm of crystalline parasites that sought warmth and mana. They swarmed toward me, chittering with alien hunger.
I dropped a Rejuvenation Vial, the precious resource shattering against the ground, creating a diversion that bought me seconds to escape while Fracture Tether propelled me to inhuman speeds.
By day twelve, I'd secured four pillars. My supplies dwindled dangerously low. The constant environmental manipulation had left me with chronic dimensional strain—like a migraine that never quite faded, colors occasionally inverting in my vision.
The fifth pillar was the most remote, perched atop the highest peak in the rift's center. Between me and it stood a field of gravity shards—crystals that contained such intense gravitational energy that they periodically imploded, creating vacuums that could tear limbs off.
I had no choice but to navigate through. Carefully, methodically, I moved from cover to cover, timing the implosion cycles. When a particularly large shard began its collapse sequence, I Consumed Hazard, absorbing its energy to restore my dwindling health.
The Fracture Charge triggered another speed boost, and I seized the opportunity to cover ground faster. Two kilometers became one. One became half. The peak loomed closer.
An Elite appeared without warning—a Gravity Architect. Humanoid but wrong, its limbs too long, joints bending against natural geometry. It manipulated the very fabric of space, creating gravitational lenses that distorted light and mass alike.
It saw me before I saw it. The ground beneath my feet suddenly weighed thousand of kilograms, pinning me in place as my bones creaked under impossible pressure. My HP plummeted—64, 53, 41—as the creature approached with methodical confidence.
Panic wasn't an option. I needed calculation.
With tremendous effort, I reached toward a nearby gravity shard, fingers stretching until joints threatened to separate. The pain was excruciating, but I managed to touch its surface. Invert Hazard.
The shard's implosive gravity reversed, creating an explosive force that knocked the Architect back. Another Fracture Charge, another speed boost. I rolled away as the pressure released, gasping for breath in the thin air.
The Elite recovered quickly, reshaping gravitational fields to create a cage around me. Trapped, my options dwindled. Two Fracture Charges accumulated. One more manipulation would trigger backlash in an already unstable environment.
Exhaustion neared 50—the threshold where Fracture Tether would stop functioning. I had seconds to decide.
"Worth the risk," I muttered, and Amplified Hazard on the reversed gravity shard.
Three Fracture Charges. Reality shattered.
This time, the dimensional tear was catastrophic. A slice of what appeared to be ocean—complete with writhing tentacles and dark water—poured into the mountainside. The sudden fluid pressure shattered the gravity cage and sent both me and the Architect tumbling down the slope.
Fracture Tether activated for the third time, and I used every millisecond of that speed boost to scramble toward higher ground as the water carved new canyons through the mountains.
The Architect wasn't so fortunate. I watched as tentacles seized it, dragging it into the depths of the dimensional breach. Its silent scream distorted the gravity around it one final time before it vanished.
The water receded as the fracture slowly sealed itself, leaving behind salt crystals and strange marine fossils embedded in rock that had never seen an ocean before my interference.
Battered and soaked, I climbed the final distance to the fifth pillar. My armor hung in tatters, utility cutter reduced to a jagged stub. But I'd made it.
As I activated the final stabilization sequence, the entire rift shuddered. The unstable peaks began realigning, finding harmony as the pillars created a balanced dimensional matrix. The gravity wells calmed, their violent fluctuations settling into predictable patterns.
[RIFT CLEARED: SHATTERED PEAKS]
SURVIVAL RATE: 100% (SOLO)
CONTRIBUTION: VOLT (100%)
LEVEL: 2 → 3
F-tier cores × 5 = 495 credits
Gravitational Crystals 7 units × 35cr = 245cr
Stabilization Fragments 5 units × 60cr = 300cr
Architect Remains 1 unit × 150cr = 150cr
Time-Warped Minerals 12 units × 25cr = 300cr
SOLO BONUS (×10)
TOTAL (Network): 14900cr
The extraction was smooth, depositing me back in the Rift Management Center without ceremony. A few observers noted my return with mild surprise—a solo F-tier clearance wasn't unheard of, but it wasn't common either.
In my unit that night, I studied my status screen, absorbing what I'd learned about Reactive Fracture Tether:
It transformed my greatest liability into strategic advantage. The speed boost scaled with my Speed attribute. Most importantly, it bought time for my cooldowns.
Kell had been right about one thing—the fractures were changing me, but in a good way I have never felt more powerful. When I checked the mirror, I could see faint energy patterns swirling in my irises, pulsing in rhythm with the Fracture Charges I'd accumulated and discharged.
But I'd been right too. Solo was the path forward.
I allocated my new attribute point into Speed again, watching the value tick upward:
SPEED: 2 → 3 (BASELINE)
With Fracture Tether's percentage boost applied to a higher base value, my burst mobility would be even more effective. The synergy was undeniable. And I could rely on environmental hazards to deal damage.
As exhaustion finally pulled me under, my thoughts drifted to the next rift, the next challenge.
And I was getting faster.
VOLT F-TIER (LEVEL 3)
HP: 30/100
MP: 20/100
EXHAUSTION: 42/100
ATTRIBUTES: FORCE: 1 POWER: 1 SPEED: 3 VITALITY: 1 DEFENSE: 1 CONTROL: 1 MANA: 1
TRAIT: DOMAIN ENGINE (CURSED)
ABILITY: REACTIVE FRACTURE TETHER (PASSIVE)
FRACTURE CHARGES: 0/3
There would be other rifts, other traits, other raiders. But for now, this was enough—this fragile balance between stability and chaos, this tether to reality that I could manipulate but never fully control.
I closed my eyes, and dreamed of the equipment I was going to buy tomorrow.
