Night held still around the shack.
The fire had burned low now with its faint orange glow licking the dirt where the half-eaten rat lay beside Arlen, while smoke drifted thin through the air, curling above the small mound of stones that marked her grave.
Arlen sat cross-legged in the cold earth with the pale blue shimmer of his interface staring back at him.
Panels hovered before him like sheets of glass. Steady, silent, and strangely comforting.
{Inventory}
Affinity – Red Lightning (Epic)
Enchantment – Recall (Epic)
Skill – Precognition (Legendary)
Item – Healing Potion ×2 (Grade 2)
Weapon – Partisan Spear (Rare)
He studied the list for a moment, his gaze flicking across each entry as if it were a puzzle waiting to be solved.
He didn't question how he knew what to do. The knowledge was simply there, clear and instinctive.
"Convenient…" he muttered.
A flicker of thought, and blue sparks traced the air.
From the light, a smooth and intricate glass bottle formed, filled with red liquid that glowed faintly against the night.
It hovered for a heartbeat before dropping gently into his waiting palm.
Arlen stared at it for a moment.
[My rat-eating days are done… if nothing else] he thought, lips twitching.
Tilting his head back, he popped the cork free with a soft click before gulping down the red liquid.
And the next instant, warmth rushed through his body, like liquid fire threading through his veins.
His body tightened, muscles clenching as the magic flooded outward.
He could feel it working as the swelling on his face dulled, then ebbed.
Cuts stitched themselves shut with a faint shimmer of light while bruises faded from blue to nothing.
Even the old, half-healed scars along his ribs began to fade.
He exhaled slowly, staring at his hands as they steadied.
The dirt-streaked fingers looked like his again. Thin, but no longer trembling.
When the last of the pain faded, he flexed his arm, tightening his fists before unclenching them, feeling the clean pull of tendons under his skin.
Then he raised a hand to his face, still half expecting the sting.
Only to find the swelling around his eyes was gone, revealing a pair of deep violet irises, reflecting the flicker of flame.
His black hair hung uneven and matted, the strands falling into his eyes like a curtain that refused to part.
Beneath the grime and exhaustion, his face carried a quiet sharpness.
Handsome, in a way, born more from defiance than beauty.
He stared into the fire for a while, its light painting red across his knuckles.
Then he laughed a quiet, dry, and hollow laugh.
"Well… at least I'm not dying today."
It wasn't joy… or relief
It was the sound of a man who had run out of reasons to laugh, but still did anyway.
Arlen exhaled and, with a thought, he willed the "Status" open and began reading through it.
"Chronos Protocol, huh… guess that's the name of the system."
He scrolled lower, eyes tracing each line as they flickered softly.
"Level 0 of course… that much is obvious."
His gaze dropped further.
"Affinity…" he murmured, before his widened.
Time.
The word stared back at him, simple and absolute.
For a heartbeat, his thoughts went still before detonating.
He'd read enough novels, watched enough anime, lived through enough daydreams to know what that meant.
Time wasn't just another element.
His eyes drifted from the shimmering panel to the small mound of stones beside him.
The grave looked almost peaceful under the pale moonlight with moss glistening faintly over the cracks, and that flower swaying gently.
Then slowly, his trembling hands curled into fists.
His breath began to quicken, while the chest rose and fell as though trying to contain something boiling inside him.
While the hollowness in his eyes stirred, replaced by something fierce, something alive, something... dangerously close to hope.
The thought came quietly at first. Then it rooted itself deep within.
"If I can master that…" he whispered, voice shaking, "No… with the system… when I master that…"
He hesitated, lips trembling, as if the next words themselves might break the world.
Then finally he said it out loud.
"I can bring her back."
The words left him in a shiver.
And for the first time in years, his lips curved.
Not in irony, or bitterness, but into something fragile, unsteady yet alive.
A grin.
A real one.
"Yeah… but still," he muttered, steadying himself, "let's not get ahead of ourselves."
With a hardened gaze, he spoke, "Whatever's out there acting like gods or higher powers… they won't just watch me resurrect my mother… "
His grin faded for a breath, only to return sharper, hungrier.
"So be it then.... It's been a while since divine blood was spilled anyway."
He pushed himself to his feet, muscles still weak but steadied by resolve.
For a moment, he simply stood there, staring at the grave as the wind stirred the moss.
"Just a bit more, ma…" he said, voice trembling with something fierce and fragile all at once. "Just a bit more."
He turned toward the shack, the pale blue light of the interface flickering as he read through the rest of the status.
As he reached the door, his grin widened into something wild, unguarded, and manic.
"If the gods, or whatever's out there, don't want me to do it…" he said through clenched teeth, voice curling into a whisper that almost sounded like laughter, "… they should've helped that day."
The door creaked behind him as Arlen stepped into the shack.
Dust floated in the air, faintly visible in the thin shaft of moonlight slipping through a crack in the roof.
He moved without hesitation this time.
Straight across the room, past the crooked table, and toward the bed pressed against the far wall.
It was her bed.
His mother's.
The blanket still lay where it had been years ago.
The enitre bed was covered with a thick layer of dust and grime, with the faint outline of her head still faintly visible on the pillow.
He stopped a step away as the smell of the old wood and dust hit him like a memory of warmth, laughter, faint perfume, and the sharp sting of loss layered over it.
For a moment, he couldn't breathe.
His fingers trembled at his sides, itching to reach out, to touch it just once. But he couldn't.
He knew, if he did, the wall he'd built over five years would crumble.
So instead, Arlen took a deep breath through his teeth and exhaled slowly.
This time was different.
This time there was hope.
He crouched, brushing aside loose straw and spider webs until his hand found the shape of an old wooden chest tucked under the bed.
Its hinges groaned as he dragged the dust-coated chest into the open.
"Really hoping you're in good enough shape…" he muttered.
The latch clicked open.
Inside lay a crossbow, small and worn, but intact.
And beneath it was a bundle of bolts wrapped in faded cloth.
He stared at it for a long moment before picking it up.
His mother's weapon.
She used to hunt with it. Just small game, birds, rabbits.
Enough to fill their stomachs for a night or two.
The sight of it clawed something deep inside him, but he forced the feeling down.
"Now isn't the time for memories…"
He could feel the Partisan Spear sitting in his inventory. A far better weapon by every measurable standard.
But skill wasn't something numbers could fix.
The spear was foreign.
Whereas the crossbow is simple. Point, aim, shoot.
Perfect for early EXP farming.
He took out the old string and bolts, working slowly, fingers clumsy at first as he tried to string the crossbow.
The motion brought faint tremors to his hands, not from fear, but effort.
The bow's limbs resisted as he pulled the string into place, tendons straining, until it finally locked with a soft snap.
"Alright…" he whispered, turning the crossbow in his grip, feeling its balance.
"Now… let's see that affinity."
He focused, and the faint blue shimmer of the interface flickered back to life before him.
He navigated to the inventory and hovered over one entry before expanding its detailed description.
{
Affinity – Red Lightning (Epic)
Classification: Esoteric Elemental Variant – High-Tier Lightning
Circuits Required for Optimal Function : 7
Overview:
Red Lightning is an advanced esoteric variant of natural lightning, recognized for its extreme thermal output and unparalleled piercing potential.
Among the five known lightning types, it is ranked third in rarity.
Known Lightning Affinity Spectrum (Assuming Optimal Function):
Blue Lightning – Standard form; balanced output.
White Lightning – Stable form; maximized conductivity and shock control; ideal for sustained discharge.
Red Lightning – Volatile form; extreme thermal generation; 15× hotter than solar plasma at full efficiency; unmatched piercing capability.
Purple Lightning – Corrupted form; destructive resonance; low shock capacity; moderate penetration.
Divine Lightning (Gold) – Celestial form; amalgam of all properties; exclusive to divine or god-tier beings.
Core Characteristics of Red Lightning:
Heat: Absolute peak output among non-divine variants. Capable of vaporizing steel and stone upon impact.
Piercing: Excels at linear penetration.
Shock: Lower than White Lightning due to instability in waveform continuity; compensated by catastrophic localized burn potential.
Control Difficulty: Extreme.
Circuits Required: Seven Circuits are required for optimal function.
Assimilation Protocol:
Must be conducted in an open area, away from flammable structures or organic matter.
Keep at least one Grade 2 or higher Healing Potion on standby.
Expect severe pain during attunement.
Pain and risk will be the same regardless of the current level.
Failure to maintain focus may result in partial integration or death.
Warning:
Red Lightning is not an element meant to be tamed.
Chaos must wield Chaos
}
"Chaos is exactly what'll wield this."