Ray woke to the familiar hum of his depot's core generator, dawn's light seeping through the cracked window. His body thrummed with energy from the Nagual mutagen's activation, the Beast Magic coursing through him (HP: 170/170, Mana: 170/170). At Level 12, he was no longer the scared kid from his past. William's gone, he thought, gripping his Anansi-core short sword (0.5 attack boost, illusion resistance). I'm Ray now, a White Claw mercenary, building a legacy. The Yomi Protocol's blue screen flickered, displaying his abilities—Shadow Cloak, Muscle Boost, Bone Proficiency, and Beast Magic's partial transformations from Earth's mutated beasts: rat claws, boar tusks, gorilla arms, lion claws, tiger stripes, bear fur, whale gills. These powers are my edge, but Sylra's still sniffing too close. Gotta keep them secret.
Ray's HUD
Level: 12 (EXP: 1670/2000)
Stats (Max 100):
Strength: 14 (Enhanced by Orc Mutagen)
Endurance: 14 (Enhanced by Lizardman Mutagen)
Speed: 12
Agility: 14 (Enhanced by Dark Elf Mutagen)
HP: 170/170
Mana: 170/170
Magic (Level 12, Mana Costs):
Elemental:
Fire: Flames (10), Fireball (20)
Water: Drip (10), Torrent (20)
Lightning: Spark (10), Bolt (20)
Ice: Frost Touch (10), Frost Nova (20)
Earth: Pebble Toss (10), Quake (20)
Wind: Gust (10), Tempest (20)
Universal:
Healing: Minor Mend (10), Major Mend (20)
Spatial: Short Blink (10), Long Blink (20, detectable by high spatial users)
Mutagen-Derived:
Shadow (Dark Elf): Shadow Cloak (10), Shadow Veil (20)
Enhancement (Orc): Muscle Boost (10), Power Surge (20)
Bone (Lizardman): Bone Spike (10), Bone Spear (20)
Beast (Nagual): Rat Agility (10, clawed limbs, +2 Agility), Boar Strength (10, tusked muscle, +2 Strength), Gorilla Resilience (10, gorilla arms, +2 Endurance), Lion Ferocity (10, clawed hands, +2 Attack), Tiger Stealth (10, striped skin, +2 Stealth), Bear Endurance (10, furred torso, +2 HP), Whale Vitality (10, gills and fins, underwater breathing, no combat)
Skills (Level/Uses to Next Level):
Hacking: Level 2 (1/4 uses toward Level 3)
Engineering: Level 2 (2/3 uses toward Level 3)
Swordplay: Level 6 (1/7 uses toward Level 7)
Markmanship: Level 6 (1/7 uses toward Level 7)
Forging: Level 3 (0/5 uses toward Level 4)
Stealth: Level 5 (0/6 uses toward Level 6)
Alchemy: Level 4 (2/5 uses toward Level 5)
Inventory (Dimension Pocket):
Crafting Materials:
Rat Pelts (x830), Rat Blood (x828), Rat Claws (x170)
Boar Hide (x1)
Anansi Silk (x46), Trickster Venom (x48)
Sonic Essence (x1), Mana-disruptive Residue (x17)
Copper Wiring, Rubber Grips, Silicone Components, Bone Fragments, Basic Alloys
Orc Tusks (x8)
Mana Crystals (x10), Vitae Roots (x5), Essence Vials (x3)
Cores:
Lesser Anansi Cores (x4)
Lesser Gremmeling Cores (x6)
Low-tier Goblin Cores
Weapons and Gear:
Impundulu-core Light Armor Chestpiece (0.3 Defense Boost, Lightning Resistance)
Impundulu-core Boots (0.2 Agility Boost)
Impundulu-core Gauntlets (0.2 Strength Boost)
Impundulu-core Crossbow (0.4 Attack Boost, Lightning Affinity)
Impundulu-core Bow (0.3 Attack Boost, Precision Enhancement)
Anansi-core Short Sword (0.5 Attack Boost, Illusion Resistance)
Core-forged Short Sword (Goblin Core, 0.05 Attack Boost)
Bow, Crossbow, Crossbow Bolts (x39), Shuriken
Mid-tier Armaments (blades, guns, warhammers from bandits)
Tools and Misc:
Portable Alchemy Set
Empty Canisters (x3), Meshes (x2)
Truck Keys
Silver Dust, Sea Salt
Ward Tech Mana Sensor (Torin's Gift)
Encrypted Data Crystal
Currencies: 1165 Daalers, 200 Quetzals, 200 Draks, Lumen 200, Durin 300
Ray showered, the core-powered hot water soothing his muscles. After dressing, he headed to the depot's perimeter to recast the runes consumed in yesterday's fight. The fire rune's charred crater still smoked faintly. He knelt, channeling his own Mana (10 Mana per rune, total 100 Mana, Mana: 70/170) to re-etch the fire, enhancement, lightning, shadow, bone, earth, ice, water, wind, and spatial runes. The sigils glowed briefly before fading into invisibility. These traps saved my hide, he thought, but these attacks are getting too close for comfort.
[Yomi Protocol: Recasting already, kid? Depot's turning into a warzone. Got a plan to keep your head attached, genius?]
Ray whispered, "Plan? I'm thinking potions, Yomi. Time to stock up." The recent fights—gremmelings, orcs, Nagual—proved the wasteland was getting deadlier. He needed HP and Mana restoration potions to stay in the fight. Using his HUD's secure transaction interface, he digitally transferred 300 daalers to a vendor in Zyra's market district (Currencies: 1565 to 1265 Daalers), securing alchemical supplies: mana crystals (x10), vitae roots (x5), and essence vials (x3). These'll make a few potions once I brew them, he thought, stowing the supplies in his Dimension Pocket.
On his way to the White Claw guildhall, Ray spotted a familiar figure slumped against a rusted wall—Mike, a poor but bulky human merc he'd met during training with Varg, his gear patched and worn but his frame muscled from relentless workouts. Ray's age, Mike had recently left his orphanage and joined the White Claw guild, scraping by in Zyra's underbelly. They'd bonded during training, sparring under Varg's watchful eye, and shared a meal with Lila and Torin at their home, Mike's enthusiasm easing their worries. "Mike? Damn, you look rough," Ray said, crouching beside him.
Mike rubbed his neck, voice low and gravelly, like he'd been chewing on dust. "Yeah, Ray, it's been brutal. I have no daalers, nowhere to crash, just me and these busted boots. Got out of the orphanage a few months back, signed with the guild to make something of myself, but it's all picking through alley scraps and dodging wasteland mutts. I'm stuck in a damn rut, man, like I'm just running in place."
Ray's gut twisted, echoes of his own past as William—the cold nights, the hunger, the endless fight to survive—flooding back, though he kept those origins locked tight. No one could know he wasn't from this world. He leaned closer, voice steady but heavy with feeling. "Mike, you're more than just some guild rookie to me. We sweated together under Varg, shared dinner with Lila and Torin—you're practically family already. I've been where you are, scrounging in alleys, feeling like the world's got you pinned. That rut, that grind, it's a killer, and I know it too well. I fought my way out, built this depot, this life, and I'm not letting you keep struggling alone. Move into my depot—it's a fortress, not some alley dive. Let's make it official: you and me, a squad, brothers in this fight. We'll watch each other's backs, take on jobs, build something real. The wasteland's too brutal for solo runs, and I need someone with your fire by my side. You with me, Mike?"
Mike's eyes widened, his bulk straightening as Ray's words sank in. He swallowed hard, voice cracking slightly. "Ray… man, after that dinner with your family, I thought I'd never find that kind of warmth again. You're giving me a shot I don't deserve. I'm with you, brother. All the way." In his mind, Mike thought: Ray's pulling me out of this mess, just like that night with his folks. He gets what it's like to have nothing. I'm not letting him down. I'll show him I've got his back.
[Yomi Protocol: Picking up strays now, kid? A beefy rookie like Mike gonna keep you alive, hotshot?]
Ray smirked, whispering, "Extra muscle means extra firepower, Yomi. He's been through the same grind I have—makes the wasteland less likely to chew us up." He clapped Mike on the shoulder, helping him up. "Let's hit the guild, grab some jobs, and get you settled."
At the White Claw guildhall, a towering structure of steel and crystal, Ray approached the human receptionist, Kaelin, her HUD interface glowing as she processed guild transactions. He slid the encrypted data crystal taken from the orc bandit leader across the counter. "Got this off an orc bandit leader I took down. Runes are locked tight—magical encryption. I can hack software, but this is out of my league. Anyone here crack it?"
Kaelin inspected the crystal, her fingers tapping the interface. "Magical encryption's tricky. We've got a rune specialist, Master Vaelor, who can take a look. It'll cost 100 daalers to start, and he'll need a few days." Ray nodded, transferring the payment via his HUD (Currencies: 1265 to 1165 Daalers). "Do it. I want to know what that orc was hiding."
Kaelin offered the mission board. "Anything else, mercenary?" Ray and Mike scanned the listings, picking three mid-tier jobs: clear a nest of goblins swarming in old ruins with cunning traps and brutal ambushes, take down a pair of wild ghouls led by a necrotic alghoul with a decaying aura, and hunt a Rakshasa—a shape-shifting predator with illusion and claw attacks. Solid pay, decent challenge, Ray thought. Let's see what Mike's got.
Before heading back, Ray detoured to his family's home in Zyra's safer district. Lila hugged him tightly, her eyes bright with worry and pride, then grinned at Mike. "Back again, Mike? Keep him out of trouble." His mother, quieter, pressed a hand to Ray's cheek. "Keep fighting, but come back." Mike chuckled, his familiarity with them easing the mood. Ray nodded, the weight of their trust grounding him. I'm doing this for them.
Back at the depot, Ray led Mike through the rusted maze, pointing out the trap zones. "Ground rules: don't stray off the marked paths—my runes are invisible, set to trigger fire, ice, lightning, whatever'll fry or skewer you. Stay clear of the core generator; it's my lifeline. And no snooping in my workshop; I've got projects there." Mike nodded, his bulk filling the narrow path. This place is a fortress, he thought. Ray's got my back, and I've got his.
[Yomi Protocol: Squad life, huh? Mike's got the muscle, but can he keep up with you, mastermind?]
Ray whispered, "He'll learn, Yomi. Two of us means twice the trouble for the wasteland." In his mind, Mike's gratitude lingered: Ray's pulling me out of this mess. I'll show him I've got his back.
They called it a day, the depot's hum a steady promise of safety. Tomorrow, they'd tackle the missions, a new squad ready to carve their mark.