Aaron’s smile had grown stiff. Endless greetings and clueless questions had scraped raw.

  Then came the monster.

  Aaron flinched back. Before him stood a rust-red werewolf, its body towering two heads above him despite its hunched stance. Its long, coiled muscles rippled beneath thick fur. A snarl rumbled in its chest, sharp teeth flashing. Next Aaron caught the oddities—a prehensile tail scratching at its own head, a second pair of arms tucked under massive, fur-covered biceps, and lips that twitched like stubby tentacles.

  The dog-like eyes held only deepening disgust. As Bug’s hand steadied Aaron’s back, he realized what he was seeing. A Hypercanine, an uplifted hound. Aaron flinched again as the xenosophont took a quick step forward.

  A sharp click snapped Aaron’s attention to the side. Shard stood motionless in her black titan suit, her arm leveled at the Hypercanine’s face. Her voice was clipped, cold. "Explosive bolts. Skull. Brain. Heart. Heart. Hips. My standard solution for Bellegnars."

  She looked like a reaper, poised to deliver judgment. Without moving a hair, the Hypercanine spoke in rapid bursts, its voice oddly clipped between inhales.

  "I swear by Mars." Sniff. "I mean no harm, only curiosity." Sniff. The Hypercanine tilted its head. "Champion of Watcher Machines—" sniff, sniff "—do you call them divine? Do you believe some clades are superior?"

  Spells flared to life in the hands of nearby mages—sparking arcs of electricity, a sphere of seething red liquid, a dagger of ice forming in an outstretched palm. The Grandmaster’s hand shone blindingly bright, magic coiling around his fingers like a living thing.

  I’m not alone. I have to slow this down before someone throws a spell. If he is expecting a zealot as a champion…

  “I know little about the gods.”

  Silence fell over the amphitheater. No one moved. Aaron let out a breath. Good.

  “As for superiority, I think that all deserve to be treated equally well.”

  There was no warm loyalty in the houndman’s eyes. He sniffed. “One wise answer.” Low growl. “One foolish one.” Silence. “Every pack is led by the strong, social, and smart, not the deluded.” A long pause ended on a soft bark. “Come to Warhound’s Armory once you need weapons. Remember who gave you free fangs.”

  The Bellegnar blurred backward, vanishing in a sudden burst of motion. Spells lashed out in reflex—ice shards exploding into steam, stray arcs of lightning grounding into the floor. Aaron staggered, heat prickling against his skin. Ten steps away, the Hypercanine stood on the stairs, throwing its head back in a chilling howl.

  "May Ares grant you a warrior’s death! Auuuuuuuh!"

  The sound tore through the air like a war cry, rattling Aaron’s bones as the rust-colored blur disappeared beyond the last row of seats.

  Shard broke the silence. “Bloodthirsty warbeasts,” she murmured, lowering her arm.

  Aaron noticed he was shaking. Steadied by Bug’s hand, he took a few calming breaths.

  The Grandmaster cleared his throat. "I believe we have seen enough of the champion’s potential." He turned to Aaron, smiling. "The class is over. I hope you found it informative."

  With an unhurried stride, the lavender-robed man turned and left, his assessment complete.

  The amphitheater’s tension still clung to Aaron’s skin as he stepped into the tunnels. The air was thick with dust and the scent of old stone, the flickering light casting restless shadows that stretched like grasping fingers along the walls.

  Aaron exhaled sharply, shoulders stiff. Theon’s stare is drilling into the back of my skull like a dagger. He resisted the urge to sigh. I do not have the energy for his politicking right now. Never thought just talking to people could be this exhausting.

  Around the next turn, Bark was waiting, his stance solid as a wall. He exchanged a glance with Bug before speaking. “Anax Theon, the chamber is secured as you requested. You may speak freely, Champion Aaron.”

  Aaron closed his eyes for a brief moment, then exhaled. Theon mentioned this. I thought I would get some peace and quiet now. Screw it. I need to take my opportunities as they come.

  Neither of them moved until Rhea groaned. Bug and Bark chuckled. “We can work this out inside, boys. Using the chambers to protect fragile pride is more common than you think. I think.” She looked at Bug’s grinning face.

  Ignoring the others, Aaron stepped toward the door. Theon followed in the exact same moment. Petty asshole.

  Rhea opened the door, and Aaron froze.

  Thick carpets swallowed the chamber. Blue-green light flickered over a floating sphere, cradled in silk like a relic from a forgotten age. Ropes held it taut, suspended between reverence and danger.

  Aaron chuckled. Those symbols on the sphere were no mystical runes. I know a circuit board when I see one. The orb was etched in layers like tree rings carved in silicon—each tier more delicate, more fragile.

  Theon spoke in a hushed voice. “One day… I will make something like this. The power of Enchanters.”

  Aaron looked at him with a tight smile. Below all that scheming noble dress is just a good old nerd. Aaron paused. Or is it the other way around?

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  They climbed up wooden stairs. Moving the silk to the side, Rhea opened a circular hatch. “Looks like I get to pick my spot first,” she mocked as she crawled into the sphere.

  Aaron grinned as he and Theon rushed forward. He beat him by only a step. The hatch stood open, the space beyond lit with soft, blue light. For a moment, Aaron hesitated—this was something else entirely.

  Theon began examining the circuit design up close, as Aaron entered with an amused smile. It fell off his face as he saw Rhea’s expression inside. The rapid movements of her hand told him to speed up.

  It looked like Jules Verne had written cyberpunk—blue-padded benches circled the floor, with a high ceiling above and refreshments in the center. The etched dome pulsed softly overhead.

  Aaron sat down and watched as Theon crashed into the eerily shifting lights. The hatch closed with a thud, and circles of light came to life—red at first, then yellow, then green.

  The hatch locked with a soft click. The lights stopped shifting. A deep, mechanical hum filled the sphere, vibrating through the floor before dissipating. Aaron exchanged a glance with Theon. Is this normal?

  Three pairs of eyes met. Aaron exhaled slowly, shifting in his seat. This was coming.

  Theon leaned forward to speak—

  "Aaron," Rhea cut in smoothly, "what happened when you leveled up? And how did you get a mind shield advanced enough to impress Theon?"

  Both he and Theon stared at her smiling face. Aaron’s eyes shifted rapidly between the others. What do I tell them? Everything? No, wrong approach. What do I want to tell them and what can I tell them?

  Aaron scratched the back of his head. Think. Fast. “Well…” Bug didn’t warn me. Is this the test? Aaron exhaled. Alright. I’ve got my angle.

  He tipped his lips, as if remembering something. “I met Bug and Bark in the last trial. There, I learned the mind shield.”

  Technical truths are still truths. If I start lying, I will get tangled up in that. There are enough layers to this mess already.

  Theon leaned forward like a striking cobra. Rhea tensed. After a few heartbeats, Theon broke Aaron’s confusion. “Who is the mind mage?”

  Aaron held his gaze, not moving his eyes by even a hair’s width. Oops, I forgot how they view mind mages. They treat them like Nazis. Which is fair for someone who can literally act as thought police.

  Aaron looked both of them in the eye. “Bug, but I trust him. You should too. The Weaver told me so.”

  All true, yet so false. But how much can I reveal? Aaron pushed onward, ignoring their widened eyes. Fast talk them into the defensive.

  “When I leveled up, I met the Weaver’s Watcher. It granted me a boon. A mental construct.”

  Rhea’s level of astonishment remained constant, whereas Theon’s mouth had opened wide. Aaron chuckled. Let’s see how they handle this.

  “I call it Quetzy, and it helps me deal with all the pressure and stress.”

  As expected, Quetzies voce rang in his head. ‘SayHelloToThem. ForMe.’

  Aaron chuckled. “It told me to say hello to you two.”

  Theon’s mouth opened, then shut. He inhaled sharply through his nose, as if recalibrating his entire worldview in real-time. His hand hovered near his temple before he ran it through his hair, exhaling sharply. Then, in one explosive motion, he gripped his own hair like he was trying to hold his brain together.

  “You have a living mental construct?! That is what Masters do to expand their Dream Garden. How is it even stable without you having dealt with your mental shadows? How—”

  Rhea grabbed his hands and put them firmly down. Her fingers tapped once against her thigh, the only visible sign of emotion before her face settled into a careful mask.

  “And what happened in the actual leveling up? Could you choose any stats? Which skill guides were you offered?” she asked with a deliberately calm voice.

  Aaron frowned. Is she just trying to keep this casual, or aiming for something else? A good offense…

  He leaned forward. “Would you mind sharing your experience first? Mine might not have been normal.” He gave her an apologetic smile.

  She nodded, answering without hesitation.

  “My attribute redistribution was forced. My Cognition and Perception were raised to baseline levels.” She glanced at Aaron. “That’s standard for the Initiate rank.”

  She pulled out her amulet. A single red gem in nine dark circles. Aaron grabbed his as well. To his astonishment, an eighth of the innermost circle was filled.

  Rhea’s hand rested lightly on Theon’s wrist, grounding him before he could spiral further.Theon simply sat there, staring at Aaron as if reality had just been rewritten in front of him. His fingers twitched at his temple, like he was trying to hold his thoughts together before they scattered into chaos.

  “How…” The single word was dry, flat, utterly disbelieving. Aaron reached out, squeezing Theon’s wrist.

  “I get it—this is a lot.” He gave a lopsided grin. “I blame the triple learning speed bonus.”

  Theon choked on his own breath. Rhea burst out laughing. Aaron rolled his eyes. I’m not even trying to be mean. Anymore. But seriously—how the hell am I supposed to deal with this?

  As the situation settled, Rhea put her arm around Theon’s shoulder.

  “I was offered Adept guides for climbing, running, and dodging.” Her smile was wolfish. “So, of course, I picked the Master one for polearms.”

  Theon looked at her in awe. It took him a few attempts to gather himself. “Fewer than one in ten thousand are offered a Master guide so early. Though, I still prefer my Adept learning guide,” he finished, some smugness returning.

  Aaron whistled. “Smart choice. How do you get skill guides, except for levels and divine blessings? I might want to stock up on them. But why isn’t everyone doing that?”

  Theon rallied and began stroking his chin.

  “There are other ways, but mostly skill crystals. A Master must meditate on the skill while performing it for two seasons. They do it because the restoration of the lost knowledge usually leads to improvements. Attuning to one takes just as long.”

  Theon leaned in toward Aaron. “Don’t tell anyone, but I got Apprentice ones for Enchanting and Robomancy.”

  Rhea nodded. “My father got me an Amateur fighting one when I was younger.” Her face scrunched together. “But it cost him a second pick when he became a Martial Adept.”

  Aaron squeezed her knee gently. “I’m sorry.” Their gazes met, something unspoken passing between them. Rhea exhaled slowly, blinking hard, but a single tear slipped down her cheek.

  They talked through the night—comparing system quirks, reshuffled stats, and the strange gray plane with its cold obelisks and missing pedestals. A stage for gods to play architect. Normally, there would be pedestals in the center.

  Next time, I will check what the system says about me. Or just use a skill reader.

  Dinner passed in a blur of discussions—leveling mechanics, Dream Gardens, mental constructs, and skill attunements.

  Rhea laughed, leaning in. “Please tell me it has wings. A dragon-squirrel would be peak adorable.” Then, quieter: “We could all use something small and fierce watching over us.”

  Theon, still struggling to process, had spiraled into theories about anchoring mental constructs before the Master tier.

  Aaron kept nudging him back to reality, but Theon wasn’t satisfied with "A God Did It."

  After the last plate vanished, silence returned—not from comfort, but from everything unsaid. Across the table, Theon’s grip tightened on his wine glass. His knuckles were white.

  Aaron met Theon’s eyes, then Rhea’s. “No more dodging. We need to talk about us—about politics, loyalty… all of it.”

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  What do you think of Aaron's decisions? Would you have done the same?

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