Chester thought the system warned him out of fear that he'd find an exploit again.
He found himself mistaken.
The first time he noticed something was off in his new skill was whenever he conjured up the system. Unlike in the past, he didn't have to completely make it from scratch. The interface he saw was not a figment of his imagination. But there was an anomaly.
C̸H̸E̶S̴T̴E̶R̶ ̵E̷V̷E̷R̵H̴E̸A̴R̸T̵
̴P̵E̸R̶K̸(̸S̵)̴:̷
̴U̴n̸d̸e̶r̷d̶o̶g̶ ̷I̴I̴ ̸-̶ ̴S̸l̶a̴y̶ ̴a̵n̸ ̴o̸p̵p̸o̶n̴e̶n̶t̴ ̷w̶i̸t̵h̵ ̸a̴ ̴h̶i̴g̸h̵e̴r̷ ̸l̵e̷v̴e̶l̵ ̶a̸n̶d̵ ̵s̴u̷p̶e̵r̵i̸o̵r̶ ̸s̴t̸a̷t̸ ̴t̶o̶t̷a̵l̴.̶ ̶+̴1̶0̴ ̶t̷o̴ ̸a̸l̸l̴ ̴s̷t̷a̴t̵s̷.̴ ̴1̵0̶%̴ ̸i̷n̴c̶r̴e̷a̸s̴e̸d̴ ̴d̵a̶m̴a̵g̵e̴ ̶d̷e̵a̴l̸t̶ ̶t̷o̸ ̸o̵p̴p̷o̶n̴e̷n̶t̸s̶ ̴w̸i̷t̸h̴ ̸a̶ ̵h̷i̴g̴h̵e̷r̶ ̸l̶e̴v̶e̵l̵ ̸o̴r̵ ̴a̵ ̷h̸i̶g̸h̵e̴r̶ ̵s̴t̸a̷t̸ ̸t̶o̴t̵a̸l̶.̸
Ư̵̡̢͙̹͎͉̦̿̾͌͗̇̾͐̎̿͘n̴̢̢̛̬̥̤̥̘̦͇̻͑̈́͜͠k̶̡̪͎̎̀͌̅̔̃͋̐͠ņ̷̛͙͚̥̤̮̝̩̹̔͂̏̓̓o̸̢̡̩͎͎͖̒́̿̍͊̃̈̾̀̚͝w̷͉̹̓n̴͍͙͈̣̘͖̐͗͂̉͛̅̚.̷̢̺͖̟̼̳̽≠̡͚̹̳̮͔̜͍̑͋̆͂̊͆͝R̶̨͚͌̍͆̌̃̓̿̃͊̈́͜ė̸̡̫̣̗̣̟͈͐̋̈́ͅs̸̡͖̳̳̣͇͉̈͋́͂͂͗̓e̴̛̛͕̜̮̹͙̞̼̠̯͈̿̾̋̇̾̇͠t̸͖͉̞̙͐͜ ̸̛̣̗̑͌̆̌͘͝ͅ-̷̞͓̥͕̮̞̟͎̟̱̯̐̾̏̚ ̴̭̬͚̝̭́̉̉̀̂̽̚͜͝C̶̣͋̊̀̈́̈̑̃́̈́r̷̢̨̝̜͚͚̺͇̈͆̇͒͑̆̋̃̑͘͝ͅͅe̶̼̞̰̖͐̎̑̆̀͜͝ȧ̴̩͋̒̈́t̸̝͖̘̐́̈̔̋̾̈́͜e̸̲͎̦̳͇͚̞̤̓͑̽d̶͉̤̳̫̬̪͖̀̆͜ ̴̦͖̐̇͗̆̐a̷̦̣̯͓̫͈̼͔̫̝͐͋̀͜͝ņ̶̢̪̰̰̟̹̲͇̝̈̀ ̸̭̮̤̣͊̀̍̓̆̎ȩ̴̺̮͊͑̊̈́͗̐̎͋̎̀̾ŕ̵̡̧̟͚̫̰͚r̷̮͔̰̯̻̼̊̃͐̆̈́̾̌͑͜o̴̧̥̟͕͍̗̙̦͗͒̇̐ͅͅr̵̮̦͈̰͙̰̈͌͋̍̔͂̀̓̽̐͗ ̶̢̼̱͉͚̲̹̟͉̔ͅi̶̢̻̾̍̈́n̷̨̧̜̗͉̤̓̽̈́̏͆͗͝ͅ ̴̱̤͆t̵̨̻̺͑͆h̸̲̣̔͗̈́̃̿͝ë̷͉̱͎͙͚́͘ ̷̨͚̭̽́͑́̃͂͌́̉ş̸͈̭͍̪̰̗͚͔̒͜y̵̡̫͕͕͔̫̫͈̓̐͑̈s̵̛̹̦̱̻͉̱͉͕̗̹͇̎̈́̑̇͂̍͗t̷̡̞͉̫͙̦̳̗̥̫́̃̍̃̀͘͜ë̸̮͈͎̬m̴̥̱̬̤͎̝͕͙̲̪̎͒̉̀̀͊͂͐̀̈́͠ͅ.̴͍̥̂ ̶̻͚̾̿S̶̨̰͈̖̱̱̱͉̫̖̞̿̈́͆͋̈́̈́̽̾̚͝t̷̛̺͕̺̣̀̍̔̉̕̚a̷̛͚̗̻̦͎̦̼̞̣͍͇͊̓̒̍͗̀͑̚t̴̢͍̩̮̯̾͐̄́̉̇͐̍̚ ̷̨̙̜̌͂̈́̏̂̍p̵̗̹͈̤̟͊̄o̷̢͍̻̺͖̽̆̑̂̃̚i̶͎̤̠̼͈̩̓̍́̅̈́̉ͅn̴̪̞͉̱̦͇̦̱̾̃̈́̍͆̆͐͜͠t̴̡͉̯̬̰̠̂̓͋͜ŝ̵̗͊́̔͌͆̆̉͐ ̴̢̙͙͚̙̻̾͐̑̽̽̍̓̓̐͘ṕ̷̬͇̪̥e̶̡͙̮̞̩̩̥͗̐̈́͝͝͠ṟ̶͇͈͇̤͍̏͗̽̎̋ ̴̧͚̦̗͉̦̘̻̞͇̍ľ̶͎̞̭̘̣͕͎͎̀̅e̸̛̛̝͔̭̝͚̬̖͛̂̇͛͘͝v̸̨̻̩͕̞̮̬͒̔͑̉̓̄̿͒̚̚̚e̴̡̪̖̘̳̝͈̘͑̊͗l̸̝̦̂̽̄ͅ ̶̩̙̰͙̈́͌͐͑̾́͠͠a̷̻̪̣̺̟̯̹̠̤͆͠ͅř̵͉̹̰̘̤̱̼̦̚e̸͈̜͔̻̟͕͙͌͆͆͊̇̍ ̴̳̲͕̙͕̄̽ͅdoubled.
Greater Endurance - Stamina recovery is increased. All damage taken is reduced slightly. HP gained is doubled for every point in END. HP regen gained is doubled for every point in END.
Greater Intelligence - Your ability to recall details and memories are enhanced. Your mental faculties are greatly increased. MP gained is doubled for every point in INT. MP regen gained is doubled for every point in INT.
Greater Agility - Your reflexes and eyesight will scale in proportion to your AGI stat. All agility-based abilities are enhanced by 10%.
Viva la Resistance - Persuading one to turn against their oppressors/superiors. Increased likelihood of turning enemies into allies. +5 to CHA.
Eidetic Dreamweaver - The power of the mind is as vast as any universe. You have pushed the boundaries of what is possible within the dreamscape, and you are rewarded for this feat. As an Eidetic Dreamweaver, you are able to manipulate your dreamscape with a more nuanced understanding and with more realistic details than before. +10 to INT
Level: 36 (0 stat points to allocate)
Race: Human (Otherworld Variant)
Class: Illusionist (Unique) - A class that uses magic to disrupt, trick, and deceive opponents. 1.5x boost to INT, 1.3x boost to AGI and CHA.
H̴P̸:̷ ̶2̷2̸0̸0̸/̵2̴2̷0̸0̸ ̴(̸1̶1̶ ̶H̶P̷ ̷r̵e̷g̸e̷n̶/̷m̷i̸n̵)̸
̵
̴M̷P̶:̵ ̶4̵35̸0̶/4350 ̷(̷2̴1.̵7̷5̷ ̸M̷P̵ ̶r̷e̷g̶e̶n̸/̸m̸i̶n̵)̴
PRIMARY
STR- 70 (80)
AGI- 110 (153)
END- 100 (110)
INT- 125 (217)
SPECIAL
CHA- 46 (74)
LUC- 9 (19)
Skills:
ACTIVE
Alter Self Level 2 - Assume a different form. You can change key features along with size. Illusion cannot be applied if extremely different to base shape. A maximum of two targets can hold Alter Self. -10 MP/min, No cooldown. A damage value of over 100 will dispel the illusion.
Darkness Level 4 - A radius around your target within 5 meters will be covered in darkness, obscuring vision. Radius of spell: 3 meters. -50 MP to cast.
Nested Dream Level 1 - Harness the power of the subconscious to manipulate and layer realities within realities. Targets are enveloped in an exponentially slower perception of time within each nested dream and are subject to the laws and rules imposed by the user, but cannot be physically harmed. If targets are killed in the spell, they will be removed from the dreamscape. Those with mental fortitude (MNT = (END+INT)/2) surpassing the user's can resist the spell. Being touched in the physical plane will interrupt the spell. Maximum time elapsed in spell: 24 hours per nested layer. Activation: 1 minute per nested layer, -500 MP per layer.
Greater Invisibility Level 1 - A target becomes invisible upon use. Sounds and smells from the user are not revealed unless willed to. Being attacked will make the illusion vanish. -100 MP to cast.
Improved Minor Illusion Level 2 - You can create an illusion that can affect sight and hearing. Size of the illusion is restricted to a maximum of 2 cubic meters. -100 MP to cast.
Hypnotic Pattern Level 2 - Unleash a visual illusion that disorients your foes. There is a small chance of immobilizing the target for one second. -50 MP to cast.
Mana Blast Level 3 - Unleashes a non-elemental magic projectile upon the target, dealing 50% of your total INT stat as damage. -100 MP. 1-second activation, 5-second cooldown.
Greater Mana Infusion Level 2 - Infuse your body with magical energy. Boost stats by 10% while activated. -150 MP/min
PASSIVE
Sword Mastery Level 1 - Proficiency with sword-type weapons. Upon equipping a sword, 5% increase to damage dealt.
Hammer Mastery Level 2 - Proficiency with hammer-type weapons. Upon equipping a hammer, 5% increase to damage dealt.
Chain Weapon Mastery Level 3 - Proficiency with chain-type weapons. Upon equipping a chain-based equipment, 5% increase to damage dealt.
Advanced Dagger Mastery Level 2 - Proficiency with dagger-type weapons. Upon equipping a dagger, 10% increase to damage dealt.
Advanced Illusion Mastery Level 3 - Proficiency with illusion magic. Your understanding of illusions grants greater precision and efficiency. 10% increase to casting speed of illusion-based spells.
Advanced Mana Mastery Level 1 - Proficiency with mana. Your understanding of mana grants greater precision and efficiency. 10% increase to magic damage dealt.
Poison Resistance Level 3 - You are resistant to non-magical poison and venoms. Immunity to weak poisons, and slightly reduced effectiveness against powerful poisons.
Mental Resistance Level 2 - You are resistant to low-level mind magic and psionic abilities.
The text on his skills were glitched, making it look similar to the perk he had received when he first broke the system. But it was only a visual tweak.
The stark expanse of white stretched out to infinity, a boundless canvas for Chester to paint his will upon. The endless void of the Nested Dream offered no distractions, no interruptions. It was the perfect training ground, a place where he could push his magic to its limits without consequence.
As he plunged deeper into his training, he treated the expanse as both his opponent and his ally. He performed elaborate maneuvers, his spells flashing across the empty plain, painting trails of vibrant colors against the white backdrop.
"Mana Blast!" he called out, casting his arm forward as a surge of raw energy erupted from his palm, racing through the void and leaving a ripple of distortion in its wake. The expanse of white seemed to shudder from the sheer force of the attack as if even this endless dreamscape could not entirely ignore his will.
"Again," he muttered to himself, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he gathered his dwindling mana reserves for another spell. His palm ached from the repeated casting, a faint but clear reminder of his physical body's limits.
The white space pulsed in response to his magic, every spell creating new distortions and echoes that spiraled out into the void. He continued his relentless pursuit, the words becoming a mantra as he drew upon every bit of his mana to unleash one Mana Blast after another. He created various strategies and drilled them through several hours of practice, reinforcing his offensive arsenal for use in the real world.
"Greater Mana Infusion," he declared, his voice echoing in the silence. He began the complex process of infusing his body with mana, weaving it into his physical form to enhance his strength, speed, and endurance.
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His muscles seemed to thrum with newfound power, every movement charged with an unseen force. He felt faster, stronger, his body responding to his commands with an ease that was intoxicating. "Incredible," he breathed out, grinning at the raw power coursing through his veins.
Yet even as he reveled in the power the Greater Mana Infusion granted him, he knew he was pushing his limits. His mana reserves were thinning, each spell becoming harder to cast, his body feeling the weight of the constant magic use. He was exhausting himself, pushing the boundaries of his magic further than he'd ever dared without the worry of any real consequences in his dreamscape.
Through it all, Chester kept a running monologue with himself, analyzing his spells, assessing their effects, and making mental notes for future adjustments. His voice was the only sound in the otherwise silent dreamscape, providing a comforting anchor in the midst of the disorienting void.
Despite the fatigue setting in, he pushed on, the desire to learn, to improve, driving him beyond his limits. But as his training continued, the spells became weaker, the effects of the Greater Mana Infusion waned, and the once vibrant colors of his magic dulled.
Chester paused, taking a look at his reserves. They were near-empty, and it seemed to affect his performance in training.
"Guess I'll wait," He muttered to himself. The man conjured up a plush bean-bag, paired with a sleep-mask and decided to rest. He fully expected by the time he awoke for his reserves to be filled so he could continue training in the nested dream.
Chester didn't know how much time passed, but it was enough for him to leave an imprint on his bag. With a yawn, he checked his status, and his blood went cold.
̴M̷P̶:̵ ̶156/4350 ̷(̷2̴1.̵7̷5̷ ̸M̷P̵ ̶r̷e̷g̶e̶n̸/̸m̸i̶n̵)̴
His mana hadn't even gone up by a single point.
It was then that the harsh reality set in, a chilling realization that struck him like a bolt of lightning. His mana regeneration was tied to real-time. The hours he'd spent training, the countless spells he'd cast, they'd drained him faster than his body could recover. He'd gone four levels deep into the nested dream.
His mind raced, trying to make calculations. If every level made time go slower exponentially, then it'd take him years to fully replenish his mana. Chester paled.
"Fuck! Why does the system keep screwing with me! This isn't fucking funny!"
The severity of his situation sunk in. He was trapped within the confines of his own mind. Using actual skills outside of forming illusions in his dreamscape cost mana. Chester did his best to avoid a panic attack and calmed himself down, trying to think about what he should do next.
"Okay, Chester. You've got yourself in a pickle. Now's the time to get yourself out of it."
Chester turned his focus toward the more pressing problem at hand – escaping the Nested Dream. The fifth level of the dreamscape was not a place where one would want to linger. It was featureless, formless, and unsettling in its endless expanse. He couldn't shake off the eerie feeling that there was something else in this space with him. It was a sensation that gnawed at the back of his mind, setting his nerves on edge.
Yet, despite the growing unease, Chester held a deep determination within himself. His every thought, every action was consumed with the intention to escape. He started by retracing his steps, attempting to undo the spells he had previously cast. However, with his mana dwindling and his focus fragmented, he found himself increasingly unable to control the intricate web of magic.
"Think, Chester, think," he chided himself, his voice a mere echo in the barren whiteness. Each failed attempt gnawed at his patience, fraying the edges of his usually calm demeanor. His frustration grew, amplified by the isolation of the dreamscape.
But Chester was not one to surrender easily. He began to experiment, weaving complex spell patterns that he had never tried before. He attempted to manipulate the fabric of the Nested Dream itself, hoping to exploit some hidden aspect of its structure. Yet, with every failed attempt, his frustration mounted. His hands clenched and unclenched, his brows furrowed in deep thought, and his muttering filled the endless void with an undercurrent of agitation.
"Okay, okay," he whispered, attempting to still his mounting panic. He needed to regroup, to replenish his energy before he could try again. He began to weave a space within the dreamscape where he could rest. He envisioned a lavish room, filled with luxuries to keep him entertained and comfortable.
As the spell unfolded, the stark whiteness around him morphed into four walls, a ceiling, and a floor. A large, plush bed materialized in one corner, a small library filled with his favorite books in another, and an array of recreational activities in the remaining space.
The transition from endless white to a fully furnished room was a welcome change. Chester took a deep breath, expecting relief, but found none. The room, although designed to his liking, held a strange atmosphere. The lighting seemed too artificial, the space was too silent, and the walls seemed to stretch into nothingness when he wasn't looking directly at them.
It was as if he had stepped into a place that wasn't supposed to exist. It felt disjointed and surreal, like the backrooms of reality where the laws of physics and logic didn't hold. Chester felt a shiver run down his spine, his heart pounding in his chest. It was as if he were being watched by unseen eyes.
"No, it's just your mind playing tricks on you," he told himself, forcing a laugh that sounded hollow in the eerie stillness of the room. But the feeling didn't fade. The room's uncanny nature was unnerving, and Chester found himself unable to shake the feeling of disquiet.
Despite the luxurious furnishings, he found himself unable to rest. He tried reading, tried playing games, but his mind kept returning to the feeling of being observed. The books didn't hold his interest, the games felt hollow, and sleep was an elusive companion. The room he had created to provide comfort was instead a source of mounting dread. He was trapped in a space that was neither here nor there, a ghost in a dream within a dream. His sanctuary had become his prison.
Chester slumped onto the bed, his body heavy with fatigue and frustration. His eyelids drooped, but he fought against the pull of sleep. His mind was buzzing with unanswered questions, with failed spells and a creepy, unsettling room. The discomfort in his mind reflected in his body, making rest a distant luxury.
He tried to console himself, to stay optimistic. "I've made it this far," he whispered, his voice barely audible in the unnerving silence of the room. "I just need to wait it out, that's all."
But the wait was not going to be easy. Each tick of the clock seemed to amplify his anxiety, his mind tormented by the strange reality he found himself trapped in. His own magic had become his enemy, and the fear of the unseen observer became his constant companion in the Nested Dream.
Time seemed to stretch out endlessly before him, each second punctuated by the silence of the uncanny room. Chester was trapped, caught in a dream from which he could not wake, in a room that was both his refuge and his cage. As he lay there, trapped in the surreal expanse of the Nested Dream, Chester wondered if he would ever wake up, or if he was doomed to remain in this eerie liminality forever.
He didn't know how much time passed. Chester avoided checking his status, believing that the more he looked the slower time would go. He kept busy. Talking to himself. Ranging from what he would eat once he left, to the theories he had on Damien's brother, and how the children were doing.
Tethered on the edge of insanity, Chester came upon a thought, an experiment of sorts, to bring forth some semblance of company to stave off the isolation gnawing at him. He had to trick his mind into believing he wasn't alone, to quiet the drumming solitude that was echoing in the hollows of his heart.
Laying the blueprint in his mind, he sketched an image of a person — a woman. He fashioned her to be stunning, with a body that would make goddesses green with envy. The visualization was vivid, down to the last detail of her flowing hair and beguiling eyes. Gathering the remaining scraps of his mana, Chester manifested her into existence.
As she came into being, Chester felt a moment of pride. The woman stood tall and graceful, the curves of her body seeming perfect to the last detail. But as he looked into her eyes, a sense of dread gripped him. They were void of emotion, a lifeless stare from an attractive shell. A painted porcelain doll brought to life. Before, when his dreams were clearly dreams, this illusion felt grounded in reality.
"You're so funny. Chester. Ha!"
Her movements were rigid and uncanny, her voice monotonous and mechanical. He had hoped for an enchanting siren, a companion, but instead, he had created an eerie doppelgänger. It was as if the Nested Dream had twisted his spell, warping it into a grotesque caricature of what he had envisioned.
'What the fuck is this spell? It's making all my skills go haywire!'
Despite her physical allure, Chester found himself repulsed. The thought of intimacy vanished at the sight of her, the unnaturalness of her existence a turn-off, replacing desire with an uncomfortable chill. The warmth he had envisioned was replaced by an off-putting, cold facade.
With a sense of dread curling in his stomach, Chester attempted to dissolve the spell, to unmake this uncanny creation. But to his utter horror, he found himself unable to.
The woman stood in the room, a testament to his ill-conceived desperation, and Chester was helpless to undo it.
Panic welled up within him as he tried again and again, each failed attempt fueling the icy dread that gripped his heart. The figure watched him in silence, her hollow gaze unblinking. The creation that was supposed to be his solace had turned into his nightmare. She was a constant reminder of his predicament, a visual echo of his isolation twisted into a horror story.
Chester backed away from her, each step echoing ominously in the too-still room. His heart hammered in his chest as he stumbled back onto the bed, eyes wide in disbelief and terror. The room, already a place of uncanny dread, now held a terrifying entity that he had no control over.
As he sat there, staring at the monstrosity he had brought forth, Chester felt a deep despair engulf him. He was trapped within his own nightmare, unable to escape the eerie room and the unsettling creation. And the worst part was that he had no one but himself to blame for his predicament. His efforts to create comfort in the nested dream had turned it into a waking nightmare.
----------------------------------------
He didn't know how long he spent in that room. But after an unimaginable amount of time, Chester checked his status and saw his mana had reached five-hundred points.
Utilizing his energy and seeing the points he had painstakingly saved up in his dreamscape, he channeled it into his body.
"I just need to wake my subconscious, don't I?"
He wasn't able to do it with the illusions he conjured in here. But armed with actual mana, he charged himself up for a Mana Blast. Taking one last glance at the mannequin woman he created, the curly-haired man smiled.
"Peace out."
His super-charged blast struck himself in the face. Suicide in the dreamscape. It tore him asunder. The feeling of his upper body being encapsulated by his Mana Blast was vivid and real. His death was a brief flash of pain, followed by darkness.
Chester opened his eyes to an endless white expanse once more, but it felt different this time. More natural. That eerie presence that made the illusionist seem as though he didn't have control of his mind lessened. But before he could express his relief, he collapsed to the floor with his head in his hands.
The pain was beyond anything he had ever experienced, a searing white-hot agony that ricocheted through his skull like a pinball. He clutched at his head, grimacing as each heartbeat seemed to drive a hammer blow to his temples. He could taste the metallic tang of bile rising in his throat as his body convulsed in painful spasms.
As Chester writhed in pain, his mind struggled to comprehend the duration of his dream. Had he spent months within a mere split second of real-world time? The thought was dizzying, further amplifying his suffering. And worse, the knowledge that he had to endure this torment again and again to escape the nested dream was a weight on his chest, pressing him down into the depths of despair.
'I have to do this again to escape. Oh, god. I have to wait. My mana...'
Every fiber of his being screamed in protest as he slowly began to regain control over his shaking body. His vision blurred, each wave of pain turning the world into a confusing swirl of colors. Despite his torment, Chester managed a weak chuckle, a harsh, bitter sound that echoed in the empty space around him.
"What a hell I've gotten myself into," he mumbled through clenched teeth, the pain wracking his body making his words a low growl. As he succumbed to the throbbing in his head, Chester couldn't help but dread the journey ahead, a path fraught with unimaginable suffering, his only companion in the multiple layers of his nested dream.
----------------------------------------
Chester opened his eyes. They had a faraway look to them, clouded over like he was still in a trance. He stared at his hands, his face, and the slightly worn-down surroundings of the restaurant.
"Da...mien." he repeated slowly, as though he was trying to remember the name of his long-time companion. His mana had gone down to zero, and even rising up from his position required all his strength. He touched the walls and savored the sensation of reality. "Food. Lola."
After several seconds, he realized just how long he'd been gone. How much suffering he went through out of his impulsive decision to try and abuse the system once more. Chester cradled his head in his hands and let out a blood-curdling scream.
He barely registered the presence of Damien, absent-mindedly greeting him before falling into the sweet, blissful darkness of unconsciousness.