The rain didn't stop for three days.Not heavy enough to flood, not soft enough to ignore. Just constant. A gray curtain over a dying camp.
Myaterous sat beneath a roof made from layered leaves, scribbling shapes into the dirt with a sharpened bone. Around him were scattered fragments of old synthesis attempts — failed tools, broken formulas, wasted SP.
He didn't care about the loss. What mattered was the pattern.
"The system isn't random," he whispered. "It never was."
Each concept he created — fire, rope, signal flare — seemed meaningless at first. But when he compared the outcomes, he started seeing invisible links. Certain ideas reacted better together. Some gained hidden modifiers depending on time, weather, even emotion.
It was a logic engine disguised as chaos.
He leaned back, eyes half-closed, remembering the last notification he saw.
Event: Minor Cataclysm Approaching – Area 39-CDuration: 72 hours.
Another test. Another culling.
He stood and looked at his small camp — two NPCs, a guard with low morale and a cook who barely spoke. Their loyalty bars were stable, but not high. He had learned something about loyalty too — it wasn't just kindness. It was clarity. When he gave clear purpose, they followed better. When he hesitated, their trust slipped.
He moved to the synthesis panel hovering beside him.
SYNTHESIS: ACTIVEAvailable SP: 140Tier Access: Basic – Common – Unstable Advanced (Limited)
He whispered the words slowly.
"Concept: Water Flow Control.""Concept: Reinforcement Structure.""Catalyst: Crude Iron Fragment."Synthesize.
The ground shook slightly, and a faint metallic pulse rippled through the muddy soil. A system message appeared:
Result: Primitive Hydraulic Barrier (Success – Unstable)
He smiled faintly.
"That's one wall down."
He wasn't building a shelter anymore. He was building a perimeter.
Rain dripped from his hair as he walked to the edge of the clearing. The forest ahead moved strangely — like the trees were breathing. He knew what that meant. The environment was shifting. Something big was coming.
He opened his system map. Dozens of red dots flickered on the outer rim. Most were weak, wandering entities. But one signal pulsed differently — dense, clustered, moving toward him.
He muttered under his breath,
"A disaster or an event trigger…"
He didn't call his NPCs right away. Instead, he waited, observing. Every minute, he took notes. The pulse frequency, the interval of system warnings, the shift in terrain humidity.
This wasn't fear. It was research.
When the first tremor hit, he smiled.
"Let's see how predictable you really are."