A scream of raw data and pure light tore through Kael's mind. The world dissolved into a kaleidoscope of shimmering code, the phantom sensation of a million needles rewriting his soul. The Skillforge Crystal's surge was an internal earthquake, and his new Mythic system was the epicenter, cracking open and rebuilding itself in the same frantic heartbeat.
His interface flickered violently behind his eyes.
> SKILLFORGE SYSTEM REBOOT INITIATED.
> ANALYZING EXOGENOUS ENERGY SIGNATURE.
> MIMIC CORE INTEGRITY: 87%.
> EVOLUTIONARY CATALYST DETECTED. ASSIMILATING...
Dren's furious shout was muffled, distant. "What trick is this, Varn? Get up and fight!"
But Kael was locked in his own private cataclysm. He felt his Mimic Energy, which had been utterly depleted, not just refill but shatter its container. The number in his vision stuttered—50... 75... 100—before settling at a solid, staggering 80/80. His Resilience had just taken a massive, permanent leap.
Then came the real change.
> SKILL SLOT CAPACITY INCREASED.
> NOVICE TIER LIMIT: 4 -> 5 SKILLS.
> SKILL DURATION PROTOCOL UPDATED.
> 'TEMPORARY' DESIGNATION FOR COPIED SKILLS: 24 HOURS -> PERMANENT UNTIL MANUALLY OVERWRITTEN.
Permanent. The word echoed in his mind, cutting through the chaos. The Fireball he'd copied from Dren, the Glimmer Veil from the cloaked woman—they were no longer on a ticking clock. They were his to keep.
The visual noise subsided, leaving him panting on the scorched arena floor. The air crackled with residual energy. The Sparring Trials had ground to a halt. All eyes were on him and the faint, shimmering aura fading from his body.
Dren recovered first, arrogance overriding shock. "Enough stalling, sock-boy!" he roared, thrusting his hands forward. "Flame Burst!"
A wave of fire erupted towards Kael. But now, with a full ME pool and a mind sharpened by the surge, everything seemed slower, clearer. His Insight stat was practically humming. He rolled to the side, the heat searing the air where he'd just been, and came up with his hand already moving.
"Sock Summon!" he yelled, not as a desperate plea, but as a command.
A single, thick, woolen hiking sock appeared in his hand. As Dren sneered, preparing another attack, Kael didn't throw it. He wrapped it quickly around his fist and charged through the dissipating edge of the Flame Burst.
The heat was intense, singing his clothes and skin, but his boosted Resilience let him push through the pain. Dren's eyes widened in disbelief. He'd expected a cowering victim or a ranged duel, not a brawl.
Kael was upon him before he could cast again. He shoved the sock-filled fist forward, not at Dren's face, but at his chest, right over the center of his being where his Fire Manipulation System resided. At the same time, he poured a trickle of Mimic Energy into the contact point, not to copy, but to disrupt.
It was a hunch, born from his new, deeper understanding of systems. A Skillforge Glitch, executed with a sock.
Dren gasped, stumbling back as his own internal energy flickered. It was a momentary stutter, less than a second, but it was all Kael needed. He dropped the sock, grabbed Dren's still-smoldering wrist, and using the bigger boy's own momentum, twisted and threw him over his hip.
Dren hit the ground with a heavy thud, the wind knocked out of him. He wasn't defeated, but he was down, humiliated, and utterly confused.
Silence descended, broken only by Dren's ragged coughs.
Instructor Veyra's voice cut through the stillness. "The match is concluded. Kael Varn is the victor by ring-out." She was staring at Kael, her expression unreadable, but her eyes were narrowed with intense scrutiny. "Report to the infirmary. Both of you."
The world rushed back in. Kael became aware of the dozens of pairs of eyes on him—not just mocking, but filled with shock and a flicker of something new: wariness. He saw Mira in the crowd, her hands clasped over her mouth, her eyes wide with a mixture of terror and awe.
He had won. He, Kael the Sock Summoner, had beaten Dren Korr.
In the infirmary, a student with a Common Healing Touch System patched up his minor burns. As the soothing energy knit his skin, Kael pulled up his status.
Kael Varn
Level: 6 (FP: 650/1,200)
System: Skill Mimic System (Mythic - Novice Tier)
Power: 4, Control: 8, Resilience: 9, Insight: 14
Mimic Energy (ME): 80/80
Copied Skills (Permanent):
- Fireball (Rare - Novice)
- Flame Burst (Rare - Novice)
- Glimmer Veil (Rare - Novice)
Empty Slots: 2
He'd leveled up. The "Permanent" designation next to his skills was the true prize. Mira sat on the cot next to him, her voice a hushed whisper.
"Kael… your eyes… they were glowing. Like fractured crystal. And that energy surge… what happened?"
"I don't know," Kael said, and it was mostly the truth. He lowered his voice. "The crystal in the Experimental Wing… it did something. It's still doing something."
"This is dangerous," Mira whispered, her Plant Growth system seeming utterly insignificant in the face of whatever he was becoming. "People will notice. Powerful people."
"They already have," Kael muttered, thinking of the cloaked woman.
Later that evening, alone in his cramped dorm room, he practiced. He held his hand out, focusing on the Fireball skill. He willed it not just to appear, but to change, to be more than Dren's crude blast. He pushed his will and Mimic Energy into it, guided by his high Insight. The flame sputtered, wavered, and for a single, glorious second, it condensed from a loose ball of fire into a sharp, focused spear of pure heat.
The effort drained him, but a fierce grin spread across his face. He could get better. He could make them his.
The grin vanished as his door slid open with a quiet hiss.
He expected Dren with a gang of lackeys, or Instructor Veyra.
It was neither.
The cloaked woman stood in his doorway, her form silhouetted by the dim hallway light. She had entered without a sound, bypassing the lock entirely. She pushed back her hood, revealing sharp, intelligent features and those same, faintly glowing eyes.
"The surge in the arena was not my doing, Kael Varn," she said, her voice low and devoid of any warmth. "Your system is evolving autonomously, reacting to threats. It is learning. And it is drawing attention you do not want." She took a single step into his room, her gaze piercing. "The question is no longer if you will be discovered, but by whom first. My faction… or the Inquisitors of the Grand Athenaeum."