The light of the node dimmed as the transfer completed, the anomaly returned to the Rift below. The metaphysical construct folded in on itself, slow and silent, like a deep breath held in cold water.
The Administrator remained suspended in the collapsing void, his presence barely flickering. The system around him adjusted — gently, without protest. Raime’s choice had already seeded a new sequence. Parameters shifted. A new thread began.
He watched its formation without comment, no intervention… for now.
Raime had resisted both the offer and the field designed to guide him toward it — subtle, layered, nearly imperceptible. It wasn’t coercion, not truly. Just… a nudge. Calm where there should be fear. Trust where there should be doubt.
That was… new.
A true anomaly.
For all the others it was enough.
Raime had stepped around it, untouched.
Not immune, just... unyielding.
The Administrator’s form rippled faintly, rings of light contracting into tighter orbits. One projection window opened beside him, cycling through faces — brief flashes of other anomalies drawn into similar traps.
Some had entered willingly. Some were driven. Others had simply wandered too close, curiosity outweighing caution. The rift-born creatures were always just strong enough to draw attention, just wild enough to cause panic. He’d timed them well.
Most of his subjects never made it to this point. They were lost in the void.
Of those who did, all accepted. Of course they accepted.
The weight of threat, the gleam of salvation. The echo of prophetic language wrapped around systemic truth. It had worked. And then they burned. Some slowly. Some all at once. But each death offered more data. Each partial success, a clue.
The Administrator traced a rotating sequence — a diagram of hybrid core integration, etched in lines of cascading silver and violet. A concept. A hope. Something greater than what the System allowed.
So close.
He narrowed the simulation field. Watched the equation loop again. There were variables that still refused to align. Still too volatile. Still incomplete.
The secret of Essence Awakening would be his, one day.
He closed the projection and began storing the residual data.
Raime would be monitored. Observed. Every action logged, every decision catalogued. No interference. Just quiet, patient study.
The System might believe his part was done.
But the experiment was still in motion and failure had always been part of the design.
Raime P.o.v.
His mind snapped back into his body. Raime dropped to one knee, breath catching in his throat.
Sound returned first — distant wind brushing against jagged leaves, the faint chime of unseen insects, the low hum of a world too still to be safe.
The sky above was still that same lavender haze, veined with drifting grey clouds and lit by twin suns that gave no warmth. The air smelled like damp stone and strange pollen. The trees around him pulsed faintly — their bark like wet silver, their branches reaching with slow, crooked angles.
The Rift hovered behind him. Unmoving now. Dormant.
He didn’t look at it.
His hands pressed into the black grass, trembling.
What the hell am I doing here?
For a few heartbeats, he just knelt there. Let the dread surge. Let his thoughts spiral. It was too much. The Rift. The voice. The choice. The way his very soul had felt exposed — like pages read aloud in a language not meant for mortals.
He closed his eyes.
Focus. Breathe.
He let the fear run its course — not resisting it, but not feeding it either. The trick wasn't ignoring panic. It was surviving it. Raime had learned that back on Earth — during exams, emergencies, the times when everything went sideways and you had to move anyway.
After a while, the tension in his chest loosened a little, after taking another breath, he stood. His body felt light — not weightless, but different. Like the gravity here didn’t quite understand him. His limbs responded well enough, and though the air had an alien bite to it, he could breathe.
He turned in place, scanning the landscape.
Endless black-grass fields broken by twisted trees and jagged stone. No animals in sight luckily. No movement but the slow ripple of light through the soil. The horizon bent slightly — a warping curve that made distance hard to judge.
His head was pounding.
I need cover and to get the lay of the land, that means high ground.
There was something poking the back of his mind.
System messages… how do I know that? But I can’t get distracted right now, too dangerous.
He spotted a nearby ridge — maybe a couple of hundred meters away — its slope dotted with crystalline growths and narrow stone outcroppings. At its base, half-obscured by thick vines, was the dark mouth of a shallow cave.
He hesitated, then started moving.
The climb was short, but every step felt like walking into someone else’s dream — textures wrong, colors too bright or too dull, gravity a suggestion rather than a rule. The stones were dry and sharp, the purple vines slick with something not quite like sap.
He reached the cave mouth and slipped inside. It wasn’t deep — more of a scooped-out alcove — but it gave him shelter, a view of the slope, and something solid at his back.
Good enough.
As Raime stepped deeper into the alcove, the muted light of the Rift’s twin suns finally faded behind stone and shadow. The moment their glow vanished from his skin, something shifted.
His shoulders eased. The tension behind his eyes, that silent pressure he hadn’t even realized was building, faded with the light. It had been there all along, humming at the edges of his awareness like a second heartbeat.
Now it was gone.
His thoughts, once scattered and sluggish, aligned. The air felt cooler here, the silence deeper, and for the first time since falling through the Rift, he could actually think.
He exhaled slowly, almost afraid to break the stillness.
Was that... the suns? He hadn’t noticed the effect until it vanished, like stepping out from under a weight he hadn’t known he was carrying.
You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.
Whatever this place was, it dulled that oppressive haze. It gave him back his mind.
Raime let himself sit. Just for a moment. Let the stone bite into his legs. Let the world be quiet.
He pulled the lever on his lap, its touch heavy and reassuring after all that happened. He could feel something from it, from Thunk. A little smile tugged at his lips, despite everything. The old tool still dirty with blood felt charged in some way.
One problem at a time.
And then he focused on the messages.
Such a strange feeling.
The System responded.
[Anomaly disconnected from Node]
[Anomaly status unresolved… calculating]
[Generating Anomaly specific Awakening path… Overridden by Title. Recalculating…]
[Generating Anomaly specific Tutorial Quest based on Status and environment parameters]
[To view personal details and access Tutorial Interface: Think or speak “Status”]
What is this now?
Raime’s jaw tightened.
Status. Dammit.
Status: Raffaele Dalla Rovere
Race: Human
Level: 0 (Unawakened)
Attributes:
Strength: 7
Vitality: 7
Vigor: 6
Resilience: 9
Finesse: 8
Perception: 7
Insight: 9
Clarity: 9
Resolve: 10
Cognition: 11
Racial Trait – Human Adaptability
A species without inherent physical supremacy or elemental heritage, yet remarkable for mental adaptability and unpredictable potential. Though their bodies are unremarkable by multiversal standards, their minds exhibit a rare plasticity — capable of abstract reasoning, emotional depth, and conscious defiance. No two humans are quite the same; some are fragile, others exceptional. Their strength lies in variance.
Effect: +12% to one mental stat (applied to Cognition), latent affinity for psionic abilities. Potency scales with willpower and individual potential.
Titles:
- Traveller of the In-Between
You crossed the void between realms Unawakened, enduring what should unmake mortal minds.
Effect: Soul structure partially unanchored. Increases resistance to spatial destabilization. Affinity with space slightly enhanced. - AnomalyYou entered a Rift without Awakening. The System recognizes you as an unpredictable variable.
Effect: Access to unique progression paths. Standard protocols bypassed. System attention focused on the bearer. - Ithural-bornYou are the first human recognized by the System as a denizen of the Rift known as Ithural.
Effect: Treated as a local entity in Ithural. Passive psionic resistance and affinity increased. - The One Who Refused
You turned down the Administrator’s offer. You declined what many would consider salvation.
Effect:The System has marked you as divergent. You are no longer eligible for external Awakening assistance. Surveillance active.
Raime stared at it, frowning slightly. It was cleaner than he expected. Less of a game interface, more of a report.
So many questions… How does the System know my name? And I always preferred Raime anyway.
As soon as he thought that, his name in the interface changed.
Huh? So it’s responsive, customizable. Well that’s for later.
His eyes drifted across the stats, not fully grasping their meaning yet, then back to the titles. That last one—
The One Who Refused.
He felt a flicker of unease. Was it really the right choice? Or had he doom himself?
No matter, you can’t go back in time.
Raime stared at the glowing script for a long moment, his mind crawling to catch up.
Traveller of the In-Between.
Anomaly. Ithural-born.
The One Who Refused.
“...What the hell did I step into?”
Leaning back against the cavern wall with eyes unfocused, he pulled the lever across his lap, fingers tracing its weight. Still with him, the only thing with him actually.
He remembered the journey in the In-Between, barely. But what he remembered made him shudder.
There is too much to unpack, and I don’t have enough information for now. But these Titles…How do they work anyway? Is it the System just recording what happened to you and making it fancy, or is it that the System provides the rewards and effects by itself?
So many questions. And apparently I’m considered a local… at least it comes with benefits, I hope…
His gaze returned to the stat panel.
Cognition 11.
Resolve 10.
Clarity, Insight, Resilience all close behind.
Not a warrior’s stats. He played enough games to know that his distribution doesn’t reflect a melee build. But he wasn’t weak physically, he was tall and broad shouldered, stronger than most even if not a gym enthusiast. Though his mind was what had carried him this far. It made sense—he’d always thought too much, read between lines most ignored. Stayed standing where others cracked.
So does that mean that my non-physical stats are so much higher compared to the average? What is the average anyway? Five? And what is the maximum for a Human? Do they follow a linear scaling? Logarithmic? Again, it doesn’t matter right now. Focus.
“Psionic resistance… how worse would it be to just exist in this rift without it?” A shiver ran down his spine. “And Affinity? What does that even mean?” he muttered.
He didn’t see a list of affinities anywhere in his status.
He focused on Human Adaptability again. The wording caught him.
Variance. Potential. Willpower. Not fixed traits. Growth paths, potentially.
He stared at the numbers again, still unsure how they all fit together.
"System," he said aloud, "what do these stats mean?"
No response.
He frowned. “Explain stats.”
Still nothing. No voice. No message.
Then just as he was about to give up, the panel shifted.
A soft ripple passed through the screen, and beneath each attribute, new lines faded into view.
Status: Raime
Race: Human
Level: 0 (Unawakened)
Attributes
Strength: 7
→ Physical force. Governs lifting, striking, and raw kinetic output.
Vitality: 7
→ Structural integrity of the body. Influences long term exertion strain, cell degradation, and natural healing.
Vigor: 6
→ Baseline energy levels. Tied to endurance, recovery speed, and overall exertion capacity.
Resilience: 9
→ Resistance to overall damage and disruption, both physical and environmental.
Finesse: 8
→ Fine motor control and coordination. Affects reflexes, precision, balance, and accuracy.
Perception: 7
→ Sensory acuity. Determines environmental awareness and threat detection.
Insight: 9
→ Depth of pattern recognition, intuition, and emotional reading. Helps with predictions and non-verbal understanding.
Clarity: 9
→ Mental stability and focus. Affects resistance to illusions, confusion, and mind-altering effects.
Resolve: 10
→ Mental tenacity and drive. Governs morale, willpower, and resistance to mental pressure.
Cognition: 11
→ Thought speed, abstract thought, and memory. Enhances problem solving, learning, and multitasking.
Raime blinked.
Huh.
It wasn’t detailed, but it was enough to start forming a picture. The numbers weren’t just fluff — they meant something. This was how the System saw him. Measured him.
He looked at the last line under his status.
“Tutorial Quest.”
Designation: Anomaly - Tier 0
Status: Unawakened | Rift Integration Incomplete
Region: Ithural | Local Recognition: Confirmed
Primary Objectives:
? Locate a stable water source in Ithural. (1/1 – Complete)
? Establish a secure shelter. (0/1)
? Defend yourself against a native threat. (0/1)
? Witness the manifestation of a psionic anomaly. (0/1)
? Discover a not natural structure. (0/1)
Optional Objectives:
? Attune or create a weapon suited to you. (0/1)
? Sustain uninterrupted consciousness for 19 Rift-hours. (0/19)
? Engage in meditative focus within a Rift-bound psionic locus. (0/1)
Rewards:
? Psionic Thread (Unformed)
? Unlock: [Skill: Residual trace]
? New Quest Chain Unlocked Upon Completion
Raime stared at the objectives in silence.
[Objective Complete: Locate a stable water source – 1/1]
He blinked once. Then again.
“What?” he muttered.
He hadn’t drunk anything. Hadn’t even seen anything remotely close to a pool, a stream, or even dew. The air was dry, the ground strange but barren of moisture, until he thought back.
Back to the trees, back to the grass, and the vines.
Raime’s eyes narrowed. He stepped back toward the mouth of the alcove, peering out from the shadowed cover into the odd light of Ithural. The forest stood warped and silent—its tarnished silver trees reaching crookedly toward the swirling sky, the grass dark and stiff beneath them.
And draped across many of the trunks, winding between roots and clustered low to the ground, were the same vines he’d seen earlier. And along their slick surface…
A thin sheen of translucent liquid.
Raime stared in disbelief. “That’s what counts as water here?”
He exhaled, slow and steady.
He crouched at the cave’s edge, keeping in the shade as his eyes traced a narrow trail of the stuff pooling faintly in a hollow at the vine’s base, right there in the wilds, out in the open.
A gleam too thick to be dew. The way the grass just near it looked a little more vibrant. He hadn’t noticed it before.
Now, the System had made it clear for him.
“At least I’m not going to die of dehydration.”
He shook his head and stepped back into the shade, crossing the threshold just as another wave of that unseen pressure rolled off his mind.
His thoughts cleared. Thinking felt easier.
And beneath it all, something colder: uncertainty.
The Rift didn’t play by Earth’s rules, not even close.
He slumped down against the stone wall, the steel lever still on his hands like a lifeline. His fingers traced patterns in its surface.
“Alright,” Raime muttered. “I’ve got to find shelter. I’ve got… liquid. Sort of. I’ve got a weapon.”
His voice was quiet now.
“I can work with that.”
He pulled up the quest again, eyes flicking through the next objectives. Exploration. Danger. Something called a psionic anomaly. And he still had no core, no channels, no idea how to survive in a world made of magic, thoughts and madness.
But he was here.
And he wasn’t done yet. He will survive this tutorial, and get back to where he belongs.