Clover slept fitfully, haunted by a pleasant dream of the past. In the disembodied sort of way that was usual for a dream, he watched his younger self race up and down the living room carpet with heavy steps, making a thumping sound with each switchback. He couldn't have been more than six years old at the time.

"What are you doing?" amused, his father asked as he slumped against the couch, slowly sinking into the cushions.

“Waiting,” Clover replied simply between strides.

Back then, every Friday night, his family would gather around their bulky television set and watch whatever came on. It was a tradition - one of the few activities they could enjoy together.

“Running isn’t going to make the time go by any faster.“

Not quite lucid, Clover's consciousness stirred, and an insistent worry prickled at the back of his mind. There was something he had to do. There was something he was forgetting. Details that had been missing slowly solidified in the dream, taking on a more concrete quality.

“No, Mrs Reeves said that the faster an object travels, the faster time passes for it.”

"I don’t think that applies; you’re not a…” His mom nudged his father with her shoulder, interrupting him.

“Go, turn it on. It’s starting soon,” his mother said as she picked at a large bowl of popcorn. Two plastic tubes stuck into her nose, connecting her to an oxygen tank. She had always been frail, never healthy. Clover got that particular trait from her.

The screen flicked on, and his dad's face scrunched up in concentration as he quickly tapped through the channels. Clover dove onto the couch and stole a handful of popcorn. Eventually, his dad landed on the nature channel, where a documentary about the different types of trees in the world played.

His mom had insisted on watching it. She had always liked plants. That’s partially how he had gotten his weird name.

With a smile, he watched, taking in random trivia about the kapok's thorns and the willows, billowing branches; the narrator's voice slowly lulled him to sleep. No matter how hard he fought, his eyes got heavier, and before the documentary could even reach its midpoint, he fell asleep.

That night was the last time all three of them…

A jolt of electricity sparked across his neurons, activating his awareness. Coldly, he realized he was asleep. Following that realization, a wave of panic came, and he felt as if a cold bucket of water had been spilled on his back. He was trapped in Walmart, surrounded by monsters. He needed to wake up - now!

He hesitated for a moment; part of him wanted to stay a while longer and enjoy the dream of a time when he had no burdens - back when his body still worked.

He took one last fond glance at the precious memory, then, focusing, he tried to force himself awake. The dream space shook. The lights flashed off with a crack, plunging his mind into darkness. Around him, blotches of color and vague sounds spun. His stomach dropped as if he was at the top of a roller coaster. Then, he plummeted downward into the abyss to the sound of twisting bone and half-formed whispers.

Clover woke up with a start. He was not where he had been before. Above, bright white lights shone down on him as he laid in a hospital bed. He squinted his eyes, gauging his surroundings. His arms were covered in fresh bandages.

For a moment, the pain did not register; in the next, everything hurt. He groaned. He had never had a hangover before, but he imagined what he was experiencing was similar to that, probably worse. He rolled over to better view his surroundings, causing his hands to spark with a burning pain. Definitely worse than a hangover. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, forcing down the pain.

"Don't move; you'll just aggravate your wounds," Ms. Lin said, clearly exhausted.

He didn't respond immediately. Instead, with growing horror, he looked down at his right hand. The finger next to his pinky was missing, gnawed off at the knuckle. Not wanting to believe it was real, he waved his hand in front of his face, searching for any sign that its absence was just an illusion. Sharp lances of pain shot through the appendage with each movement.

He swallowed a lump in his throat, then did his best to pretend that nothing was wrong.

"How did I get here?" Clover asked with a slight cheer, his voice wavering slightly at the effort. Around him, others, similarly injured, rested. Past that, the general population of the Safe Zone had nearly tripled. The mood was somber and muted, as if the factory had been turned into the sight of a funeral.

"I don't know the details. A girl found you and brought you back. You'd have to ask her if you want to know more." She nodded to herself, then continued on with a list of medical questions.

Clover answered with grunts and nods. He glanced at a clock that had been hastily hung on the wall. Its hands pointed to half past midnight. Despite the late hour, almost no one was asleep. There was too much tension in the air for something like that.

“Did they survive?” he asked quietly after she finished.

"Most did. Some didn't." With that, she left to attend to the ever-growing line of injured.

Slowly, Clover pulled a light blue bed sheet over his head, hiding himself from the world. In the darkness, he didn’t have to see what had become of him.

Unbidden, the day's events replayed themselves repeatedly in his mind. He couldn't shake a crushing anxiety about it all. He had been one wrong move - one wrong roll of the dice away from death. He could practically still feel the Bone Rat's teeth sinking into him.

He shivered.

A tide of System notifications rested in the corner of his vision. They didn't emit any light onto their surroundings, but he could read them without any difficulty, even in the darkness - another strange quirk of the System. He brought them into focus.

Congratulations! Unstable Mana Bolt has reached Level 18. +1 Skill Point.

Congratulations! Unstable Mana Bolt has reached Level 19. +1 Skill Point.

Congratulations! Unstable Mana Bolt has reached Level 20. +1 Skill Point.

Congratulations! Unstable Mana Bolt has reached Level 21. +1 Skill Point.

Congratulations! You have defeated a Bone Rat - Lvl 5. +200 Exp.

Through extraordinary events, your soul has absorbed part of a slain enemy's Affinity, sparking your own latent talent. As a result, your base durability has been moderately increased. For now, your Affinity takes the shape of a simple Bone that can no longer rest in peace. + Affinity: Bone - Tier 1 (Low).

As your reward for being one of the first people on the planet to unlock an Affinity, you have unlocked a corresponding Aspect. +1 Aspect: Bone (Common).

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Clover pressed a finger against his ribs; they felt denser than before. Though to what extent the Affinity caused the change, he was unsure. It could have just been a side effect of his Vitality. For the third time that day, he wished that the System would bother to explain itself. It wouldn't cost it anything to explain how exactly his base defense had increased.

Even unsure what exactly his Bone Affinity did, he felt confident in its future usefulness. If only a few people had unlocked one yet, that had to have been a good sign.

Clover opened his [Status Screen] to inspect his progress.

Name: Clover Hills

Race: Human

Class: Blank Lvl 4 - 325/500

Shard:

HP: 127/210 (11)

SP: 110/110 (10)

MP: 153/190 (10)

Affinity: Bone - Tier 1 (Low)

Strength: 0

Endurance: 1

Vitality: 11

Dexterity: 0

Agility: 0

Perception: 0

Intelligence: 1

Magic: 9

Stat Points: 0

Skill Points: 10

His Stats were unbalanced right now, but he wasn't overly concerned about it. Next Level, he'd even out their distribution a bit. More importantly, he had 10 Skill Points to spend. He opened the Skill Paths screen. He hadn't unlocked anything new, but now he had enough Points in reserve to finish either [Sculpting I], and [All The Colors Of The Rainbow], or [Delayed Cast].

Clover had always been a more is more type of guy, so he went with the first option. Plus, the Paths generally interested him more.

Sculpting I 0/5

Art, for the novice, is dictated by rules. What ideal drives your craft?

Prerequisites: None.

Quest: Create 5/5 Sculptures of [Inferior] Quality.

He invested 5 Points into it, completing the Path. Like last time, a screen popped up, indicating him to choose an Aspect.

Available: Magic (Minor), Durability (Minor), Bone (Common)

Recommended: Sturdy (Inferior), Animal (Inferior), Cheap (Inferior)

First, Clover looked over the free options; he was opposed to spending his limited resources if he didn't have to. However, after a quick glance, he ruled them out because of their low Quality. He paused. In this context, was the correct System term Quality or Rarity? He wasn't sure. Maybe they were interchangeable?

Likely, his decision to make only cheaply made animal sculptures had generated the recommended options. Still, he had to wonder what they would even do. Cheap didn't exactly sound like an upgrade, and Animal could have meant any number of things. Further, he questioned what the difference was between Sturdy and Durability - they sounded the same to him.

Clover supposed he had gotten rather lucky with the amount of Aspects he had; the average person would probably have been forced to choose from the recommended options.

Earlier in the day, he had considered the effects of both his Magic and Durability Aspect, and in the intervening time, his opinion hadn’t changed. Out of the two, he’d much rather use the Magic Aspect. However, he hadn’t yet considered what Bone would do.

Out of all his Aspects, it was by far the rarest. Though, he didn't know how much of a difference rarity made. He had to assume it was significant. Under the assumption that it was the most powerful, he was inclined to save it for [Unstable Mana Bolt] when he reached its next Landmark Path. That would give him the most immediate increase in power.

However, the possibility of upgrading [Meditation] with Bone intrigued him. It was a strange combination that didn't quite make sense, but for some reason, it called to him. At the moment, [Meditation] granted him a boost to his passive ability to sense mana the longer he used the Skill. He wondered if it would evolve to give him the passive ability to sense bones. How that would work

Unconsciously, Clover's lips twitched upward. For a moment, as he scrolled through the blue screens, he was almost able to forget about the outside world - able to forget what had happened to him. The pain in his hand faded but didn't disappear. No matter how far he ran, he could never truly forget.

He pulled the sheet a bit tighter over his head.

With his mind made up, he clicked on the Magic Aspect.

First in a twisted memory and second in a twisted future, twice now you have seen it - the truth of Sculpting. For now, all you can manage is a poor imitation, but maybe someday that will change. With magic as your ideal, anything is possible.

Congratulations! Your Sculptures have slightly departed from the realm of the mundane. Magic and other effects will now be easier to imbue in them. Two related Skill Paths have been unlocked!

Minor Tactile Terrakinesis 0/10

Moving rocks with your mind can sometimes be more tiring than moving them with your hands.

Prerequisites(2): Magical Talent I, Sculpting I, ?, One-hand*, ?, ?, Earth-related Affinity, ?...

Clover had never seen such a straightforward Path description before. It was a refreshing break from the System's usual habit of mystery.

Considering his injured state, it would make [Sculpting] a lot easier - it probably had uses outside of it, too. If it was strong enough, he could probably dig holes in the ground and set traps in them. He wasn't sure how realistic an idea that was. He had only seen things like that happen in movies.

Animal I 0/5

All artists have a specialty.

Prerequisites(1): Hunter, ?, ?, ?, Obsession, ?, Imitation…

Quest: Create 0/1 life-like imitations of a creature you have personally killed.

[Animal I] was curious in the respect that it did not include [Sculpting I] as a prerequisite. Earlier, the System notification had claimed he had unlocked two new Paths as a completion bonus. Which meant something strange was going on.

He thought for a moment before coming up with a theory: Maybe some Paths were locked until he completed the first Landmark. In terms of game balance, it made a certain amount of sense. However, he wasn't convinced the System cared about such things.

Stone Puppetry 0/10

You have seen the might of a golem firsthand; can you reverse-engineer it from scratch?

Prerequisites(2): Magical Talent I, ?,? Earth-related Affinity, ?, Puppet Master, ?...

Quest: Create 0/1 Stone Puppets of [Minor] Quality.

Oh. Clover smiled; this was what he was looking for. If he could puppet stone, he'd be able to stop monsters from charging him, negating one of his biggest weaknesses. He was only 5 Points away from being able to complete the Path, too.

Clover's hand ached sharply, drawing his attention away from his theorizing. He knew that if he wanted to get 5 Skill Points before dawn, he'd have to get a move on soon. Yet, he did not pull himself out from under the sheet. Hidden from the world, he felt safer. It was irrational - he knew that, but somehow, it made the pain a bit less unbearable.

He was terrified of what would await him when he ventured out of the Safe Zone. Yet, he was equally terrified of the fate that would await him if he did not. He was paralyzed.

As still as a stone on the bottom of the ocean, Clover laid there with his eyes closed, breathing shakily. All the while, an incessant clock ticked, counting away the seconds of his life - constantly reminding him of his deadline. He could not block it out.

"Damn it," Clover shouted as he threw the sheet off of him, earning him startled and judging looks from those who surrounded him. For once in his life, he did not care. He stormed out of the bed and rolled into his chair, ignoring the lances of shooting pain that came with the movement.

He left before anyone could stop him. With a clenched jaw, he stole a bar of clay from a pallet and returned to a semi-unpopulated corner of the factory.

There, he began to sculpt. Blood dyed his bandaged hands red, but he did not stop. No, he didn't stop even when his hand shook with pain.

His eyes took on a hard edge - a certain intensity.

He had not been born this way.

He would not die this way.

One day, he would be free of the maddening cage that trapped him.