Orion had been aware of the System since his first day in the Sanctum. The memory of the infinite machine, reaching through layers of reality and possibility and calculating anything and everything, had been seared into his mind from the very start.
He kept this in mind during his first explorations into magic as he tried to understand what made the System tick and why some successes yielded experience and attributes while others were disregarded.
The creation of the System Detection Glasses was the result of all that labor. It represented a tangible connection with the System, something deemed impossible within the Sanctum.
As the mists began to cloud his vision and his consciousness started to fade, the thought that all that hard work had been for nothing became unbearable for him.
A herculean effort was needed to stay conscious, but even that wasn’t enough. He could feel something approaching, the layers of reality unfolding, and his mind trembled.
I can’t miss it. I can’t. I can’t. I can’t.
He kept repeating the mantra, fueled by that desperation and iron willpower that had driven him to challenge an entire world’s established science time and time again. The determination that allowed him to uncover the secrets of magic.
That sheer force of will surged forth from deep within him, a roar against the heavens, defying powers he could not yet comprehend.
And at last, the trembling of the world ceased, and he could open his eyes.
His glasses were the first thing he noticed. They were almost cherry red from the effort of seeing what should not be seen, yet they clung to his nose without burning him.
Beyond them, mist blurred his vision. In the span of a single blink, several System windows flashed into existence, nearly overwhelming him with their brightness.
And on and on it went. The list contained nearly a thousand entries, all of which Orion supposedly qualified for.
Is this what everyone goes through?
This was not what he’d been told would happen. Sure, no one had been explicit, but both teachers, his mother, and the people he’d spoken to in Silverpeak had made it clear that the Class selection wasn’t so much a conscious choice as it was something that happened to you.
Some people described it in religious terms, saying that the light of the Goddess illuminated the path they needed to take, while others simply referred to a sudden realization that they had ranked up.
That was not what Orion saw. Is it personalized? I suppose the System has the processing power for it, but if that were the case, I’d expect accounts to be much more different across the Magocracy.
While the specifics of the Class Ceremony for each faction were kept confidential, people talked, and the general consensus was that everyone was assigned to the class best suited to them.
This created a link between a person’s worth and their class, which made the Sanctum a particularly unusual institution, especially in its fair treatment of mundanes.
Still, Orion wasn’t complaining. The lack of control in this decision was what he had feared most, and having a chance to shape his future was precisely what he had wanted.
It could be that the glasses are the reason I can see this, or it could be entirely unrelated. Nevertheless, I’m glad I got them ready in time.
A thought was all he needed to bring the first message to the fore, where it unfolded.
This has to be the class I got from my past life. It’s a pretty good one, too, I have to say. I’m not ready to make a decision right now, but this… I can work with this.
Even if the rank was just one step above Initiate, and its trait did not permit greater mana manipulation, he was confident he could figure something out over time.
Even so, I still have all the accumulated EXP that needs to be accounted for. That should give me an advantage in reaching tier two, where I should receive a better Mana Manipulation trait.
The second choice was clearly one he’d inherited from his mother and cultivated by his efforts to understand exactly how potions worked.
Ah, I guess there’s a difference between a mundane class and a magical one. It’s a pity; [Physicist] seemed so promising, but I can’t deepen my understanding without a greater connection to the Mana Field.
While [Potioneer] was somewhat interesting and granted him two traits—enough not to dismiss it—Orion still wasn’t convinced.
The next dozen entries were all almost identical. They each provided a specialized trait, such as [Spellcasting] for the Mage class, or [Alchemy] for the Alchemist class, along with the more general [Mana Manipulation] trait for magical classes.
Orion was starting to worry that he’d have to settle for one of them, since a quick look down the list didn’t show any particularly impressive names, when he finally came across something a bit different.
A slow smile spread across Orion’s lips. He wasn’t exactly a neopositivist in his past life, having agreed with Popper’s definition of the movement as reductionist, but he could read between the lines.
Empiricist was a magical class dedicated not only to working with mana but also to understanding it.
And that was without even considering the greater benefits the class offered. At C-rank, it was clearly superior. Not only did it provide a ten-point bonus upon acceptance, but it also granted double the attributes per level, which would allow him to soar far above his peers in a short time.
He was almost tempted to accept it on the spot, but his curiosity got the best of him, so he moved it to the side before summoning the next window.
[Monk] proved to be much too disconnected from his interests, though he noted that it was the first class so far to provide physical benefits.
He found it somewhat amusing that it was there at all. The System must have viewed his isolation as an ascetic choice for him to qualify, which he wasn’t sure how to feel about, yet he still rejected it.
The next dozen proved to be worthless. [Scholar]’s trait of [Eidetic Memory] would have been fascinating, had it not already been something he was blessed with by nature.
He continued scrolling, dismissing class after class, until he finally found something.
Technically, the Rationalist class should be regarded as equal to the Empiricist class. The attributes it provided were the same, and even its traits could be equated.
Orion immediately rejected it. His sneer of disgust clearly revealed what he thought of this option.
As if anything is knowable without proof! Bah, what is this, the seventeenth century in Germany? Ridiculous!
It was profoundly insulting that the System could even consider him compatible with such a class. He, who had dedicated his entire life to advancing scientific progress by delving into the depths of experimental physics, was being labeled a potential Rationalist.
Closing his eyes for a moment, Orion had to suppress the righteous rage that threatened to overwhelm him.
Clearly, the System doesn’t use the terms in the same way a human from Earth does. While there are obvious references to philosophical currents I am familiar with, this is an entirely different context.
With magical abilities at stake, he couldn’t simply rely on his prior understanding to make a decision. He had to… deduce more.
Ugh. I hate that there might be a reason why it offered Rationalist.
Unfortunately, he couldn’t exactly obtain a trial period for each class. That would have certainly provided him with a much deeper understanding of the consequences of his choice, but it wasn’t meant to be.
Therefore, he had to gather as much information as possible from the explanations provided.
[Rationalist] appeared to be a class focused on deductive understanding. Even though he disliked the philosophical current, its appeal was undeniable.
Understanding the mechanics of all types of magic would be incredibly useful to him. It would definitely resolve his “casting differences” with the rest of his cohort.
His failure to use the scrying mirror was one such example. While all the other kids managed to utilize the artifact within a couple of lessons, it had taken Orion seven to finally develop a formula that accounted for everything.
If he could have learned why they were so successful with just a glance, he wouldn’t have wasted so much time.
And yet… Was that what he truly desired? To be reduced to a creature of instinct, navigating the currents of science and magic solely through intuitive reasoning, never fully comprehending the underlying concepts?
No, that wasn't him. Regardless of how appealing the [A Priori] trait might be, it would conflict with who he was on a fundamental level.
And so, he turned to the only other option. The empiricist class seemed better matched to his approach, but there was a reason he hadn’t chosen it initially, beyond his curiosity.
[Verification Principle] sounded useful, but he had no idea what “actively deconstruct phenomena” might mean.
Will I be able to peer into the workings of any piece of magic? Is this a simple counter-spell?
There was no way of knowing. The class description was enticing. He would go so far as to say it was the best suited he had seen so far.
And yet, this vagueness forced him to take a leap of faith. Honestly, it felt like an insult.
Shaking his head, Orion purged himself of all emotions. This choice would determine his future, and he needed to make a decision soon.
The mists were thickening, and the pressure on his mind that he’d managed to resist through sheer effort began to increase once more. Something told him he wouldn’t be able to hold it off this time.
Either he chose now, or the System would choose for him.
Ultimately, he had no other option than [Empiricist].
In simple terms, that described who he was. A man committed not only to developing a theory but also to proving it right. That was what had caused his death the first time, and that was what would lead him to the Truth in this life.
As if sensing his acceptance, all other System windows vanished simultaneously, leaving him alone in the mist.
A fire began to boil inside him, spreading through his limbs and reaching into his brain. No matter what he did, it was overwhelming, and as the pressure reached its peak, Orion finally let go of his consciousness.
