Kyle stared at the system prompt, his eyes fixed on the glowing text suspended before him. Then, without warning, another notification materialized—a simple command that pulsed with soft luminescence.
**| TAP TO REVEAL FULL ABILITY INFORMATION |**
His hand curled slightly at his side, fingers trembling with barely contained anticipation. The sensation threatened to overwhelm him, a tide of expectation that pressed against his chest like a physical weight.
Slowly, deliberately, Kyle reached forward and touched the panel.
The action itself was shocking—almost archaic. Most people interacted with their system interfaces purely through thought, mental commands flowing seamlessly between consciousness and interface. Physical touch was… uncommon. Unnecessary, even.
But Kyle felt compelled.
The moment his fingers made contact with the translucent surface, it rippled like disturbed water. The panel expanded, unfurling new information in cascading lines of text that burned themselves into his vision.
-----
**| ABILITY: THOUGHT |**
**| DESCRIPTION |**
User can manifest any conceived thought into physical reality. There are no limitations on what can be created—objects, weapons, constructs, organisms—all are possible provided the user can visualize them with sufficient clarity.
**| RESTRICTIONS |**
- Manifestations persist in reality for a maximum duration of 10 minutes
- Once a specific creation dissipates, that particular manifestation is locked for 7 days
- Extended manifestation beyond base duration requires expenditure of Soul Line
- Soul Line is acquired through elimination of Spawns and hostile entities
**| CURRENT SOUL LINE: 0 |**
-----
Kyle's breath caught in his throat.
He read the words once. Twice. Three times, each pass failing to diminish the sheer impossibility of what he was seeing.
"This… this is…"
His voice died in his throat, words inadequate to capture the magnitude of what lay before him. His hands began to shake, trembling with something between disbelief and awe.
'Anything I think can become real. Any object. Any weapon. Anything.'
The implications crashed over him in waves. The tactical applications alone were staggering—adaptive combat capabilities, instant resource generation, problem-solving through pure imagination. But beyond that…
"This ability is too overpowered," Kyle whispered, his voice cracking under the weight of realization. "Where does it even come from? How?"
The question hung in the air, unanswered.
Even the strongest people on the planet—the Astrals who commanded elements, bent space, or wielded catastrophic destructive force—none possessed anything remotely comparable. In two hundred years of documented awakening history, no ability like this had ever been recorded.
But he… he had it.
'It's insane. Completely insane.'
Kyle's mind raced with possibilities. He wanted to test it immediately, to confirm that this wasn't some elaborate delusion or system malfunction. He began to focus, to visualize—
**GRRRRAAAAHHHHH!**
The guttural snarl shattered his concentration like glass.
Kyle's head snapped toward the sound, instincts flaring. His eyes swept across the treeline, and what he saw confirmed his suspicions.
He was surrounded.
Over ten shapes emerged from the shadows, moving with predatory coordination. Zombie wolves—corrupted canines that had once been apex predators but were now twisted mockeries of their former selves.
System panels flickered to life before each creature, data streaming across Kyle's vision in rapid succession.
-----
**| ZOMBIE WOLF |**
**| TIER: 1 |**
**| ATTRIBUTES |**
- Strength: 29
- Speed: 23
- Intelligence: 6
- Endurance: 21
- Mind: 4
-----
Kyle's gaze swept across the pack, cataloging each threat. Their skin was patchy and rotting, hanging in loose strips that exposed diseased muscle beneath. White-red eyes gleamed with mindless hunger, the telltale sign of complete zombification. Fangs jutted from elongated jaws, longer than natural, dripping with yellowish saliva. Their claws were razor-sharp, blackened at the tips. Scars crisscrossed their faces and bodies—evidence of countless fights, countless kills.
They looked like starved hyenas, desperate and vicious.
One wolf stood apart from the rest—larger, more imposing. Its panel materialized with slightly different data.
-----
**| ZOMBIE WOLF - ALPHA |**
**| TIER: 1 |**
**| ATTRIBUTES |**
- Strength: 34
- Speed: 27
- Intelligence: 8
- Endurance: 28
- Mind: 5
-----
Kyle regarded them with studied calm, no hint of surprise crossing his features. The sound of his earlier battle, combined with the scent of spilled blood and rotting flesh, had inevitably drawn them here. Zombies were attracted to combat like moths to flame.
It was expected.
He drew his blade with practiced ease, the steel singing as it left its sheath. With a quick motion, he wiped the remaining toxin variant blood from the metal, cleaning it against his combat suit.
Then his mind shifted.
His eyes flicked back to his own system panel, confirming his Soul Line count—zero, as expected—and the parameters of his ability.
A smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
'Time to test this.'
Kyle closed his eyes briefly, visualizing with crystal clarity. He imagined auto-turrets—massive, industrial-grade weapons platforms. Heavy barrels. Reinforced casings. Automated targeting systems. Every detail rendered in perfect mental resolution.
Above him, the air began to shimmer.
Reality rippled, folding in on itself as something impossible began to take form. From nothingness, matter coalesced—black metal materializing in geometric patterns, assembling with mechanical precision. Within seconds, four massive auto-turrets hovered in the air around Kyle, their barrels already rotating toward the wolf pack.
The constructs were beautiful in their lethality—sleek, angular, humming with barely contained power.
The wolves hesitated, confusion flickering across their corrupted faces. Their primitive intelligence couldn't comprehend what it was witnessing.
Kyle stared at them, his expression filled with cold pride. His voice emerged as barely more than a whisper, yet it carried absolute certainty.
"Time to die."
**RATATATATATATATATATATA!**
The turrets erupted in synchronized fury.
Muzzle flashes illuminated the forest in strobing bursts of white-hot light. The sound was deafening—a continuous roar of mechanized death that drowned out everything else. Spent casings rained down like metallic hail, bouncing off roots and stones.
Bullets tore through corrupted flesh with savage efficiency. The first wolf was shredded mid-lunge, its body jerking violently as rounds punched through skull and spine. Black blood sprayed in arterial arcs. Another wolf tried to flee, only to be caught by a devastating burst that nearly severed it in half.
The alpha attempted to charge, its superior stats driving it forward despite the carnage. It managed three steps before concentrated fire converged on its position. Its head exploded in a shower of bone fragments and brain matter.
The remaining wolves yelped—sounds of pain and terror that were almost pitiful—as they were systematically gunned down. None survived more than seconds. Their bodies collapsed in twisted heaps, steam rising from perforated corpses.
Then, silence.
The turrets ceased firing, barrels still rotating slowly, searching for additional targets. Finding none, they remained hovering, vigilant.
Kyle stared at the carnage, at the hissing steam that rose from the turret barrels, at the dead bodies that littered the ground like discarded puppets.
A notification appeared.
-----
**| ZOMBIE WOLVES ELIMINATED x 10 |**
**| +12 POINTS ACQUIRED |**
**| SOUL LINE +11 |**
-----
His mind marveled at what he'd just done. At what he could do.
'This power…'
The turrets flickered once, then dissipated into motes of light, their ten-minute duration far from expended but dismissed by Kyle's will.
He stood alone among the dead, blade still clean in his hand, and for the first time since awakening, Kyle Farrell smiled genuinely.
"This changes everything."