Chapter 3: The Nexus and the Noise
The silence in the apprentice dormitory was a stark contrast to the roaring tension in Leo's mind. It was a long, low-ceilinged room filled with rows of simple cots, smelling of sweat, straw, and cheap soap. The other boys were already asleep, their breathing a steady rhythm in the dark. Leo lay on his back, staring at the rough-hewn wood of the bunk above him, the system's interface casting a soft, blue glow only he could see.
He had 310 System Points. A small fortune, according to the system's initial metrics, yet he had no idea what it was worth. The promise of a [System Shop] upon awakening his affinity was a tantalizing, frustrating lock on a treasure chest.
But he had other tools to master first.
He focused inward, on the new skill. [Beast Insight].
A flicker of intent, and his perception shifted. The soft sounds of sleep around him transformed into a symphony of emotional whispers. From the cot next to him, he felt a dull throb of [Anxiety, Homesickness]. From another, a shallow pool of [Contentment, Fatigue]. It was overwhelming, like suddenly being able to hear the hum of electricity in the walls. He quickly dialed it back, limiting the skill's range. He couldn't afford to be constantly drowning in the feelings of a dozen teenagers.
Next, he turned his attention to the [Beast Nexus].
He envisioned it as a door in his mind and pushed it open.
His consciousness was pulled into a grey, misty space. It was neither large nor small, simply there. The ground was a firm, non-reflective surface, and the air was still and silent. In the center of this space, his two Dire Rats sat, placid and waiting. They looked more defined here, their forms solid and real. He could feel their simple, thread-like connections to him—loyalty, a desire for food, a basic need for safety.
This was his sanctuary, his private menagerie.
"Okay," he murmured in the mental space, his voice echoing slightly. "Let's see what you can really do."
He focused on one of the rats, and the [Beast Insight] skill activated automatically, layering over his perception.
[Beast: Dire Rat]
Name: Unnamed
Rank: F- (Vermin-class)
Potential: D- (Low)
Health: 100%
Stamina: 100%
Skills: [Gnaw], [Scavenge]
Traits: [Low-Light Vision], [Disease Resistant]
Evolution Path: [Shadow-Stalker Rat] - Requirements: [Shadow Affinity Crystal], [Nightshade Berry x3], 500 SP.
Evolution. His heart beat faster. This was the core of a tamer's power, and the system had just laid out a recipe for him. He checked the other rat; its information was identical. They were blank slates, but slates that could be rewritten into something more.
A plan began to form in his mind, fragile but taking root. He needed resources, information, and most of all, he needed to solve the mystery of his [ERROR - DATA CORRUPTED] affinity.
He withdrew from the Nexus, the real world snapping back into focus. The predawn light was just beginning to tinge the single, high window with grey. He wouldn't be getting any more sleep.
The following days fell into a grueling rhythm, but for the first time, Leo had a purpose. He performed his dreg duties—mucking out pens, hauling buckets of water and fodder—with a quiet efficiency that was just noticeable enough to avoid punishment, but not enough to draw praise. He was the picture of Elian the Unassuming.
But his mind was constantly working.
He used [Beast Insight] on every creature he passed, building a mental database.
· A [Sky-Talon Roc] radiated [Majestic Pride, Boredom].
· A [Crimson Songbird] felt [Playful, Eager to Please].
· The Bronze-Winged Strix he'd seen with Borin was a knot of [Professional Alertness, Suppressed Aggression].
He learned to read the subtle shifts in posture, the flick of a tail, the dilation of a pupil that confirmed what the skill was telling him. He was learning the true language of beasts, a language beyond snarls and submission.
His daily routine now included a "mistake." On his way to dump a wheelbarrow of soiled straw at the compost heap, he would take a detour that passed by the isolated gryphlet's enclosure. He never stopped. He never made eye contact. But each time, he would casually drop a small, choice piece of meat, a leftover from the Rocs' meals, just outside the cage bars.
The first time, the meat was still there on his return trip. The second time, it was gone. On the third day, as he trudged past with his wheelbarrow, he saw a flash of golden feathers from the shadows of the enclosure. The gryphlet was watching him.
He didn't use [Beast Insight]. He didn't need to. He could feel the weight of its gaze, no longer purely hostile, but curious, calculating.
His progress was careful, methodical, and entirely unnoticed by the other apprentices. Except one.
Kaelen was Borin's favorite, a broad-shouldered youth with a cruel smile and a nascent Earth affinity that made him excellent at handling the heavy, armored beasts. He was everything Elian had never been: confident, connected, and cruel.
"Look, it's the rat-boy," Kaelen sneered one afternoon, blocking Leo's path as he carried two heavy buckets of water. "Heard you got the monster to eat. Got lucky, I suppose. Even a broken clock is right twice a day."
Leo kept his eyes down. "I was lucky, Kaelen."
"Don't forget your place, dreg," Kaelen said, stepping closer and shoving a hard finger into Leo's chest. The water sloshed over the sides of the buckets, soaking Leo's already threadbare trousers. "That gryphlet is too valuable for the likes of you to even look at. Borin only lets you near it because you're expendable. Remember that."
He shouldered past Leo, knocking one of the buckets from his hand. The water spilled across the stones, a wasted effort.
Leo stood there, his hands clenched, feeling the old, familiar heat of Elian's humiliation. But it was quickly quenched by the cold, analytical chill of Leo's resolve. Kaelen wasn't just a bully; he was a symptom. He represented the entire structure that kept him down. A structure he intended to dismantle.
That night, in the [Beast Nexus], he made a decision. He focused on one of the Dire Rats.
"[Name: Whiskers]," he commanded. The name was ridiculous, a deliberate piece of mundanity. The rat chittered, and a sense of acknowledgment flowed back through the bond. It now had an identity.
"Time to earn your keep," Leo murmured.
He spent 10 of his precious System Points. The system prompted him: [Purchase 'Scouting Mission' buff for Beast: Whiskers? Grants [Minor Stealth] and [Heightened Senses] for 1 hour. Cost: 10 SP.]
He confirmed.
A faint, shimmering aura enveloped Whiskers in the Nexus. Leo then mentally directed the rat to a specific location in the real world—a crack in the foundation near the Aviary's main library and records room, a place only a rat could access.
His consciousness split, not perfectly, but like watching a grainy video feed. He saw through Whiskers' eyes, the world rendered in shades of grey and enhanced detail. He heard the amplified scuttling of insects, the whisper of the wind through stone.
Whiskers scurried through the dark, narrow passages within the walls. Leo's goal was simple: eavesdrop. He needed information on affinities, on awakening rituals, on anything that could help him.
For nearly an hour, it was fruitless. Dust, spiderwebs, and the sounds of sleeping birds. Then, Whiskers paused at a ventilation shaft. Two familiar voices filtered up from below.
"...the boy is still a mystery, Borin." It was an older, reedy voice. Master Fenrik, the Aviary's lorekeeper.
"The dreg? Elian?" Borin's rumble was dismissive. "He got lucky with the gryphlet. A starving beast will eventually eat. It means nothing."
"Perhaps," Fenrik mused. "But his survival in the cellar... and now this. There are old texts, Borin. Tales of tamers who could speak to beasts without force, before the Affinity System was codified. They were called 'Whisperers'. The Council stamped them out. Their methods were... unpredictable. A danger to the established order."
There was a long pause. Leo, listening through Whiskers, held his breath.
"Superstition," Borin grunted, but his tone lacked conviction. "The boy has no affinity. The Awakening Stone confirmed it. He is less than nothing."
"The Stone is not infallible," Fenrik countered softly. "Keep watching him, Borin. If he is a Whisperer... the Council would pay a fortune for him. Alive or dead."
The conversation moved on to mundane Aviary business, but Leo had heard enough. He recalled Whiskers, the scouting buff expiring just as the rat slipped back into the Nexus.
Leo opened his eyes in the dark dormitory, his heart thundering.
Whisperer.
The system wasn't just a cheat. It was a key to a forbidden path. His corrupted affinity wasn't a error; it was a mask. The established "order" that Borin and Fenrik represented wasn't just his social obstacle—it was his mortal enemy.
And they were starting to suspect.
He had thought he needed to awaken his affinity to access the shop, to get stronger. But now he wondered if his path was different. He needed to understand what a "Whisperer" was, and he needed to do it before Borin decided he was worth more as a corpse delivered to the Council.
The game had just become infinitely more dangerous.
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