The camp was abuzz, as always, everyone was talking about the big trip. Apparently the Chernovna woman was going to be taking them to the beach the next day. He wasn’t fond of the beach, but it was a good enough way to get some air he supposed. He had been stuck here for four weeks, going through the motions and following the instructions set before him. Play nice with others, make a few friends, smile, impress with his ability but don’t overdo it. Hold back, save the good stuff for later.

He couldn’t shake the feeling, though, that something just wasn’t right. It didn’t feel like the story was wholly his anymore. Like the tone had shifted, the message had changed, yet the guide refused to update every time he tried to shake things up. He changed the phrasing, changed the context, changed everything he could to get the damn thing to show him more of what he needed to do. It was troubling and frustrating. How could he be the hero if he wasn’t the center of attention? Yet again, the guide urged him to be patient, so he was-to a degree.

There was nothing wrong with a few little side-quests, after all.

He glanced at the blonde girl, the one that had followed him for the past few days. He narrowed his eyes. He wasn’t sure who she was working for but he had a few thoughts. First of all, her profile came up blank just like Ishtars. Her power was strange too, it wasn’t one line but three. How, he wasn’t sure, nor did he really care. After all, it gave him some clues to work with. If Ishtar was blank, and she was blank, and according to the rumors among the other aspirants, Ishtar could grant powers to people. Then it only stood to reason that this Cass girl was working for her.

So she has spies here, probably in the other camps too. I’ll hold on to that little tidbit, I think. He thought as he walked down the path, putting on his smile and saying his greetings. Each time it made him feel a little sick to his stomach. He had to admit, though, that these things were more interesting than he had originally expected. It was almost like a few of them were actual people, more than just the mindless NPCs that populated this tiresome world. Sonya Chernovna was one of them. No, she was a person, definitely a person. She had a mind of her own, a real one, and he could see something cunning behind her games and playful attitude.

She’s like me, playing the world around her fingers. I like her. He thought to himself as he glanced at the guide to his left. It appeared again like a page off the internet, a walkthrough of the current stage of his story. He frowned at it with displeasure, The guide is supposed to tell me everything, but it only tells me what I need to know to get to the next stage. If I want more, I need to do more myself. He had never considered going outside of the bounds of his guide, acting out a sub-plot to build his power.

Side quests are all about power leveling, after all, He thought with some amusement. I can’t believe I had never thought about it. Of course it's necessary. But what on earth to do? He mused, crossing his hands behind his back and glancing out towards the field again. An Set is dead, Liberty is a fool, and I am starting to suspect that the original seven I had planned on recruiting aren’t going to be worth my time. Colin was stolen from under my nose by Sonya, but she is just a smart person. She wants the best, I don’t begrudge her that.

He ground his teeth, But Craig and my future henchman, killing them, Ishtar, you know something and I do not like it, not at all. He frowned and closed his eyes, he wanted to lash out right then and there. Carve a beautiful furrow through the gathered aspirants and leave their corpses for the crows. No, they’ll die eventually, not today. I am the hero after all. They should love me, adore me, worship me. He smiled to himself, basking in the moment of visualizing the day when he would finally bring the world crashing down. That moment of despair.

He savored the thought until something crashed into him. He turned his body with it, blinking a few times and frowning. Who the hell has the audacity to take me out of my musings? He thought with a snarl, turning to look at the head of brown hair that sat on the ground before him. His lip twitched, Oh, the criminal.

Stolen novel; please report.

The thing that had been wandering behind the perverse woman from Chicago for the past few weeks was scrambling to pick up a notebook and scattered notes. He looked down at one sheet of paper beneath his feet and his lip twitched, he knelt down and picked it up, brushing it off before examining it. Observations on the other heroes in camp. Their likes, their dislikes. He is cataloging everyone. His lip twitched; How amusing, is he trying to make friends too? This is more information than is available in my guide at least.

The thing with glasses looked up at him and adjusted them, “O-oh there it is!” The thing said before pausing and looking up at him. “Marc Mallory?” The thing paused and it’s eyes went wide, “O-oh my.”

He felt it, the sensation of a power touching him. Just like the power that Miss Chernovna had to suss out the names of powers. He had activated his Immunity Cheat, of course, before shaking the woman’s hand. I was lax, He thought with a frown as whatever this thing’s ability was saw through him for a moment. He shut it down by activating the cheat before quickly pulling up the thing’s profile. Ollie Anders, Karmic Threads, he paused, Karmic Threads? And he’s exploring details about others. Oho? What are you up to?

“What did you see?” He asked.

“So many threads,” Ollie said breathlessly, “Powerful ones, thousands of them, hundreds of thousands,” He blinked a few times, “W-who are you?”

“Marc Mallory, you said it yourself,” Otis said with a smile, “And you’re Ollie Anders, the boy who got himself in a bit of trouble, right?”

Ollie frowned, “I-I suppose.”

Otis raised an eyebrow and something changed in the walkthrough. He glanced at it and his eyebrows rose. It can evolve, wonderful. Side-quests, how novel. He held out the slip of paper, “Ollie, I’m not judging you. We all have skeletons in our closet, don’t we?” He said brightly with a big smile playing on his face, “Nothing to be ashamed of!” He held out his hand, “I’ve been rather rude, haven’t I, I didn’t apologize for getting in your way.”

Ollie reached up and took his hand, getting to his feet, “I should have been paying attention. Sorry, Marc.”

“No trouble at all!” Otis said with a smile, “Those are some interesting notes you have there, any on me?”

Ollie scratched his nose, “A bit, you’re hard to track down and read. Your ability is very impressive, though. I’ve only seen it once and-” He started before clearing his throat, “-Promised miss Rouge I wouldn’t ramble at people anymore. Gotta get better at it, talking to people.”

Otis laughed, “You and me both!” He said, glancing off towards the field, “Between you and me, Miss Chernovna is considering signing me if I can get a bit better with the whole socializing thing. It’s a challenge I’m afraid,” He sighed dramatically, “But something I need to do if I want to achieve my dream.”

“Killing Ishtar?” Ollie asked.

Otis glanced his way and raised an eyebrow, “Heroes don’t kill.”

Ollie swallowed and looked Otis dead in the eyes, “But you’re going to do it anyway.”

Otis turned fully to face him, “What makes you say that?” He asked.

“My gut and your… threads. You’ve killed people before,” Ollie said in a low voice before holding up his hands, “I-I won’t tell anybody! I mean,” He rubbed his neck, “We all have skeletons,” He said with a frown and looked away. “You had your reasons, right? You wouldn’t kill somebody just because. I have this theory that abilities weren’t distributed haphazardly. Not for the awakened,” Ollie said, “Gilgamesh was the first hero in our myths. He was also a good man, if a bit prideful. You have what it takes to be like him, if my theory is right. So it only makes sense…”

Otis was a little taken aback, Oh. I like him. He has a way with words. That power of his too, it could be very useful. Very, very useful. Maybe I should try looking for opportunities more often. There might be more real people on this world than I thought.

Ollie cleared his throat, “Rambling again, s-”

“I would be thrilled to hear more,” Otis interrupted him.

“Huh?”

“Your theories,” Otis said with a cold smile, “How about we talk over some food?”