“Hey, Eve, remember that magic stuff you mentioned? Well, is it like… some sparkling weird stuff in the air?”

  She chuckled. “You could say so, yes. So, you can finally see it?”

  “Well, got a system prompt. Lemme write it down so—”

  “No need. Does it say something like this?”

  Eve grabbed a stick—no shit, wait, the stick flew to her hand!? And then she casually wrote on the ground with it the exact text he got.

  Hope’s jaw dropped.

  He had seen not only the stick float, but a load of those sparkles concentrate around it as it moved.

  He stared at her, eyes wide open. “Did you… did you just make that stick fly?”

  “Yes.”

  Yes? That’s it? That’s all you’re gonna say?!

  Hope exhaled. Remember the rule, Hope. Remember the rule.

  “Yeah… that’s what it says. So what’s the deal? It got that ‘perception’ word again—same as that skill I got for zoomin’ in on creatures.”

  “It’s the first skill you gain when you perceive ambient Magika. It’s a generic type—doesn’t matter which kind. But I’m surprised. You managed to detect it sooner than I thought. Your Magika stat should be 90 right now, if I’m correct.”

  “Uh… yeah,” he muttered, scratching his head. Guess that’s… good?

  Seemed like a win, but he couldn’t feel any boost in strength from it. And if anything, those floaty spark-things were kinda distracting now. Did he seriously have to deal with that glittery fog in his face all the damn time?

  “Ok… so how do I turn it off?”

  “Pardon?”

  “Like… how do I make the stuff go away? It’s a bit distracting, you know. How’m I gonna track others with all these things movin’ around and shining like that?”

  Eve stared at him for a moment with this perfectly composed smile—and then started laughing. Like, real laughing.

  The hell, girl. What’s so funny, eh?!

  Hope just stood there, arms crossed, feeling dumb as shit while waiting for the ‘oh-so-great-Citizen’ spoiled brat to bless him with some wisdom.

  He squinted at her. “You done?”

  She wiped a tear, still chuckling. “Hope… you cannot turn it off. It’s there. Magika is there like everything else. Can you turn off a tree?”

  “What? No, but… come on, that’s not the same!”

  She raised a brow. “Isn’t it? The trees, the Magika—both are part of the world. What do you do with a tree?”

  “…go around it?”

  “Exactly,” she said, smug as hell. “You don’t un-tree the tree. You learn to walk better.”

  “Oh come on, you’re making that shit up.”

  “Would you prefer a metaphor involving blindfolded dancers and quantum fog?”

  “What the hell does that even mean? Heck, just… dammit. Give it to me straight. Forget you’re a goddamn Citizen for once and speak clearly. Ain’t no way I’ll be at peace seeing this shit floatin’ around me all the time. Is there a fix or not? Just yes or no, that’s it.”

  Eve stared at him with an amused smile. “Yes.”

  “See? Now we’re talkin’. So what do I do?”

  “You unfocus on it. Ignore it. Make it part of the background and you’ll be able to see through it normally again. Magika doesn’t manifest in the visual spectrum—it—”

  “Okay, okay, keep the strange words to yourself. I’m just learnin’ to read and write, ’kay? I’m a Crawler, yeah? Don’t do fancy.”

  Eve opened her mouth, then closed it again, her eyes dropping ever so slightly.

  “Hey, none of that down-face stuff. Last thing I wanna see. Let’s go back to that, yeah? You said something like… unfocus on it, ignore it, and it fades?”

  Eve nodded, regaining a bit of her usual composure.

  “Yes. Think of it like breathing. You don’t notice it until you pay attention. The moment you stop obsessing over it, it fades to the background.”

  “Right… breathe past the magic fog crap. Got it.”

  He exhaled and blinked a few times, then squinted at the air.

  “…still there.”

  “Try blinking slower,” she offered, tone almost teasing. “And stop glaring at it like you’re about to punch it.”

  “I glare at things when I don’t trust ‘em. That’s normal.”

  “Yes, well. Maybe try trusting the invisible atmospheric phenomenon instead.”

  “Yup. Totally normal thing to do. Next I’ll hug a tree and ask it for advice.”

  Eve smirked. “That would actually be quite in line with the druidic traditions.”

  “The what? No—don’t answer that.”

  Eve giggled.

  Hope sighed in defeat. He gave the Magika sparks another look, then steadied his breath and focused on a tree in the distance. And… he could see it normally!

  The sparkling dots didn’t go away or anything—it was more like the nose. You know, you don’t notice it’s there unless you really try.

  Anyway, he wasn’t gonna get used to it right away. Stuff like this took time. Annoying, but not too bad.

  As Mano used to say: “However bad somethin’ is, always remember—it can get worse.”

  Hope calmed himself, shut off the talkin’ mood, and brought back the huntin’ one.

  He stepped light over the jungle roots and trees until he spotted the next Talgaran. Baited it, watched the pattern, sidestepped the claw, anchored his stance, and drove the spear into its throat.

  Clean one-hit kill.

  And afterward, he noticed it—Magika hadn’t distracted him at all. When he really focused, it just… wasn’t there. Like it faded into the background.

  Good. That was good.

  This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  And so… the grind kept going. One after another. It took time, but eventually, the awaited prompt popped up and brought a grin to his face.

  Level 19 ? 20

  Level 20. Looked nice on the screen.

  “Hey, Eve, I never asked but—how far does this level stuff go? Like, what’s the top number?”

  “Each rank goes up by 100.”

  “Damn. That’s high. Wait… rank? What’s that?”

  “You want the short explanation or—”

  “The short one,” Hope cut her off without hesitation.

  “Well, reach level 100 and you can rank up. You’re Rank 1, Level 20 right now. Once you hit 100, the system offers you the chance to choose a class and rank up to 2.”

  “O-kay… and, uh… a class in what?”

  Eve smiled. “No. It’s more like being assigned a role—warrior, mage, enchanter, smith… there are many. Each one gives you certain advantages and shapes your future path.”

  “Wait a second… if I hit level 100, I… I can become a warrior!?” Hope’s eyes lit up.

  “Yes.”

  Hope’s heart started pounding. A warrior… no way. He remembered the stories and legends back in the slums…

  “You mean, like—fighting planet-sized monsters, jumping between galaxies, slicing warships in half with some lightning sword, punching through mountains, and riding fire-breathin’ space dragons while laughing like a maniac kinda warrior?”

  Eve laughed. “Well, not sure a Rank 2 warrior can live up to that… but let’s say, eventually, if you follow that path long enough… maybe.”

  Hope’s jaw dropped. “No… shit. Are you serious?”

  “I mean, everything is possible in this world… well, not everything, but… a lot of things are,” she said. “If you have the freedom.”

  She murmured that last part, but Hope still barely caught it. Freedom, huh? He didn’t press.

  “So level 100 is the goal, huh?” Hope nodded with fresh motivation.

  He looked up at the sky.

  You hear that, Mano? A fuckin’ warrior. In blood and flesh. Hope, the Warrior. Damn, that sounds mighty fine.

  “‘Kay. Thanks, Eve. And… by the way… if—no, not if—after I become a warrior, feel free to let me know if you ever need help with anything. I owe you big time, and I ain’t forgetting after reaching high, yeah?”

  Eve smiled. A different kind of smile this time. But she nodded. “Alright.”

  That didn’t sound too confident… Heh, I’ll show her. Just watch, Eve. Just watch.

  The legend of Hope… starts now.

  He dashed through the jungle, always keeping straight, using the river as his guide, hunting any Talgaran unlucky enough to be in his way.

  As he got used to ‘em, he started putting more effort into refining his moves. It annoyed the hell outta him that his Combat skill had leveled up to 5, but his Spear one—the real deal core thing—was still stuck at 4.

  Eve had said for the system to upgrade a skill, you had to show it the mastery. Repetition alone wouldn’t cut it. But heck, his spearmanship was pretty damn sharp already. He was takin’ down these four-legged, smug-lookin’ jungle bastards with style now. What more did the system want?

  Anyway… he kept at it. One after another.

  He shifted from the now-boring one-thrust-at-the-throat kill to a more stylish ‘hit here, here, then here’ kinda flow.

  His accuracy got better. His control of range? Solid. He could read their moves real well now. Still took the occasional scratch—but barely.

  And after what felt like a whole Talgaran genocide, he finally slowed down and leaned against a tree for a breath.

  Level 20 ? 21

  Level 21 ? 22

  He sighed. No skill upgrades this time. It was gettin’ harder, huh.

  Then he looked up. Blue sky. Same as always.

  “Hey, Eve… why’s the sky always blue? Like… why hasn’t it been night even once?”

  “I’m not entirely sure, but I can speculate. Perhaps the planet is tidally locked and we’re on the permanent day side—but that would still imply a visible star. Another possibility is that the light comes from multiple sources, maybe we’re inside a nebula system with a dense star cluster. A third theory would be—”

  “Yeah, thanks, Eve. I got no idea what you just said, but I get the point. There just ain’t gonna be night, right?”

  “We cannot eliminate that possibility yet… but—”

  “Well, it’s lunch time!” he cut in, pushing off the tree. “Let’s see if the Talgaran steak lives up to my expectations. But gotta say, the Grathen’s meat is hard to top.”

  Hope scanned the area, found a decent flat rock to prep the meat, and gathered some dry wood for the fire. Way easier than last time. Guess he was a fast learner.

  Once the flames were crackling just right, he reached for the meat and—

  Spun around and hurled it like a damn projectile, intercepting the rock that had been launched straight at his face.

  God dammit. Seriously?! Now?!

  His heart kicked into gear as he locked eyes with the attacker.

  ID: 545188

  Level 21

  And yeah… of course it had to be another of those furry bastards. How many of those hairy freaks were out here?

  They were really starting to piss him off.

  He checked the guy’s level—lower than his.

  Okay, he had—

  He shifted to the side just in time, feeling a rush of wind and the sting of a sharp line opening on his cheek.

  Shit!

  Another one.

  He didn’t turn his head. Already clocked the second shooter’s rough position. Delay between shots. First guy had another rock ready.

  This wasn’t looking great…

  His heart pounded, grip tight on the spear. No time to look for Eve—not like she needed help anyway. Ghost girl could handle herself.

  Him? He needed a damn plan.

  Alright. Plan B. Let’s go Mano style.

  Hope straightened up, wide grin slapped on his face.

  “Johnny, Jules—get 'em! NOW!”

  He charged.

  The front guy flinched, eyes darting.

  Good.

  Hope veered off, vanished behind a thick trunk. A rock zipped where he’d been a moment ago.

  He dove through the grass, crouched between a fern and a fat root. Grabbed a stone, tossed it one way. Grabbed another, stepped out the other side.

  The bastard turned—too slow.

  Hope hurled the second rock at his face. The guy jerked, ducked.

  But Hope was already there.

  He twisted, shortened his grip, and drove the spear forward with everything he had.

  SCRSH!

  The tip tore through flesh, cracked bone, and punched out the other side of the bastard’s shoulder. A spray of blood arced through the air, warm and sharp-smelling.

  The guy screamed, a raw, shrieking sound that broke into wet gurgles as crimson poured down his chest.

  "Johnny, Jules! I got one! Finish the other!" Hope yelled, still playing the game, trying to keep the pressure on.

  He yanked the spear back, tearing more flesh on the way out, strings of tendon clinging to the stone tip.

  He was about to step back and follow up with a strike from the spear butt when he noticed a sharp bone blade aimed straight at his ribs.

  A hidden weapon.

  Fuck…

  He sidestepped, but then felt a whirl in the air as a projectile from the other attacker closed in on him.

  His bait did not work.

  In that instant he could not afford to think.

  He stepped forward instead to dodge the projectile and thrust his spear toward the attacker’s chest, forcing him to pull back.

  He didn’t.

  Hope’s eyes widened as the dagger closed in regardless, and ripped flesh from his side.

  He gritted his teeth in pain and, on instinct, thrust his spear deeper.

  It went through and pierced the heart.

  The force behind the dagger weakened, but the pain near his ribs spiked hard enough to make his breath hitch, blood dripping from his torn side where the blade had stopped at the bone.

  Hope felt his arm tremble. A prompt appeared at the edge of his vision, but he ignored it.

  His gaze stayed locked on the kid’s eyes as their light faded.

  He… he had killed him.

  A cold knot formed in Hope’s stomach.

  And yet he did not have time to stay idle.

  He felt the other attacker shift and close in on him.