Clover took a deep breath. Slowly and mechanically, he held up the palm-sized sculpture, careful to display it only from its best angle.

The man rubbed his beard, drawing Clover's attention to the blue letters above the man's head, marking him as Level 2. "It's a demon," he exclaimed in a deep tone after thinking for a moment, nodding in approval.

Clover died a little on the inside. “It was supposed to be a dog.”

“Oh.” He looked at it again. “That works too,” he added. “I’m Rodger.”

He pointed at himself. “I’m Clover,” he said, relieved that the man had turned out to be relatively normal. Though, he had to wonder why Rodger had approached him.

Rodger noticed his narrowed gaze and smiled. "Don't mind me; I'll be gone by the morning. This is just the most isolated corner of the factory," he said as he sat on a wooden crate to Clover's left with an unnatural stillness.

Clover followed his gaze. The amount of people in the Safe Zone had taken a sharp upturn. If he had to guess, it had been a few hours since he had arrived. He couldn't fault Rodger for wanting to keep his distance from the crowd.

“You don’t plan on staying?” Clover asked after an unnaturally long pause.

“After tonight, I’m out of here. I’m making a b-line back to Canada.” Rodger said. His hand rested on the sheath of a long knife, and his eyes darted with a paranoid intensity.

"Isn't that far away?" Clover asked, his curiosity overpowering his lingering nervousness about the situation. He wasn't great at geography, but Canada must have been more than a hundred miles away from here. Probably more.

"Very. But my family is back there." His expression softened as he dug out a small black box from his pocket. "The System teleported me out here. I'm not staying." He opened the box, revealing a modest gold ring. "I was going to ask her to marry me this weekend. I've been saving up - working extra shifts. Not that it matters now."

Clover's assessment of the man shifted from two-bit gangster to paranoid but well-meaning Canadian woodsman.

He didn't envy Rodger's situation. If he had been teleported hundreds of miles away from home in the middle of the night, he didn't know what he would do. Clover wondered if some unfortunate soul had ended up on the other side of the world during the System's rearrangement of reality.

He was lucky that hadn’t happened to him. He didn’t think he’d survive the Sahara Desert.

Rodger shook his head, rousing himself from whatever train of thought he had lost himself in. “What about you – you’re a local right. Are you joining up with the group that’s leaving in the morning?”

"Been here my whole life. Never left." Clover scratched his head; it sounded kind of sad when he put it that way. "As for this whole group business, this is the first I'm hearing about it."

"Some guy with a bad haircut made a big speech. Something about how since most people in the Safe Zone live to the west of here, if they were going to have to go through the city anyway, they should do it as a group. Safety in numbers and all that."

It was true. Most people lived to the west of here. The city's east side, past the river, was mostly mansions - there weren't many people over there. Clover wasn't sure how he had missed such a significant announcement. Either way, it sounded like a great opportunity. Exploring the outside world would be safer as part of a large group.

"I'll have to check it out first, but probably." He nodded to himself. He should have some time before the group left – he could still grind out the last Skill Point he needed.

“I’ll probably do the same. It sounds like we would be heading in the same direction, at least for a bit.” Rodger looked at the dubiously dog-like sculptures Clover had created. “What’s up with all the sculptures?”

Clover leaned over. "It sounds crazy, but if I make enough of these, I'll be able to cast magic spells," Clover whispered. "Or at least that's the hope."

Rodger nodded as if what Clover had said made perfect sense.

Clover started on what would hopefully be his final sculpture of the night. This time, he decided to make a husky – the definitive third-best dog breed in the world. He wasn't entirely sure why they were ranked that way, but that's what he had read online, so that's what he was going off of. The ranking didn't really matter, but he thought it would be helpful to have a more concrete picture in mind before starting.

Occasionally, as he worked, he would feel a faint static ringing in his hands, whether that was from a lack of blood flow he wasn't sure, but for a split second after, the clay would move easier in his grasp. He wasn't sure what induced the phenomenon, but as he worked, he observed it, noting when it showed its hand and when it did not.

It was elusive and inconsistent. However, as Clover worked, he thought it occurred slightly more often, though he couldn't be sure.

In the same vein, as he worked on the dog's face, attempting to capture a mischievous expression, he found that the clay became harder to move as if it had suddenly increased in weight. When he looked back after completing the sculpture's face, he was shocked by how much better it looked than the rest. Some sort of magic was afoot.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Pushing himself to continue even as his hands groaned in pain, he completed the sculpture.

Congratulations! Sculpting has reached Level 5. +1 Skill Points.

Congratulations! Sculpting has reached Level 6. +1 Skill Points.

He wiped sweat from his brow, once again surprised at how tired he was. The clay sculpture had turned out well – legitimately exceeding his expectations.

His improvement was evident when he compared the husky to his earlier dog sculptures. It looked like he had practiced for days, maybe even weeks, between the attempts. The difference was that great. Either he was the world's greatest [Sculpting] talent, which he doubted, or the System really had supercharged his progress.

Clover carefully lifted the sculpture and showed it to Rodger, who was fiddling with a long knife.

“Don’t tell me,” Rodger said, stroking his beard. "It's a demon dog."

Clover smiled. Close enough.

Unable to contain himself a second longer, he opened his [Status Screen], tearing through it like a child on Christmas morning.

Name: Clover Hills

Race: Human

Class: Blank Lvl 1 - 50/200

Shard:

HP: 127/150 (10)

SP: 49/100 (10)

MP: 100/100 (10)

Affinity:

Strength: 0

Endurance: 0

Vitality: 5

Dexterity: 0

Agility: 0

Perception: 0

Intelligence: 0

Magic: 0

Stat Points: 0

Skill Points: 6

Eager to use his Skill Points, he didn't linger on the screen for long. However, he did note his reduced Stamina. It was concerning how much of it he had used up. Even for someone with lung cancer, simply sculpting shouldn't be that exhausting.

He tapped the blue screen five times, completing the [Magical Talent I] Path. Lines writhed like angry snakes, pouring from the box into the darkness. They didn't connect to anything yet, but they clearly led somewhere. There was more magic for him to unlock, he just hadn't met the requirements yet.

A tragic gift that those talented in suffer most of all. The enigmatic path of magic is not easy to traverse, for no two paths are the same, and a single misstep can lead to disaster. However, many still follow it - at the end of this road lies the impossible. +1 Aspect: Magic (Minor).

Accept Skill: Y/N: Unstable Mana Bolt Lvl 0 - (Common)

Unleash Mana's ever-changing nature in a bolt of power. Fires a bolt of Mana from your hand in a straight line. Moderate chance of failure on cast. Small chance for additional minor effects on cast. Cooldown: Short. Cost: 5 Mp.

If given the choice between being able to shoot magical lasers out of his hands and not. Well, it wasn't much of a choice at all. Who could resist? Even with the System's ominous message about the potential of magic fresh in his mind, he still chose to accept.

Unlike when he gained [Sculpting], he was not dragged into a set of memories, nor was arcane knowledge crammed into his brain. However, an intuitive understanding of sorts detailing how to activate [Unstable Mana Bolt] popped into his head.

Clover couldn’t stop himself from smiling ear to ear. He had always fantasized about casting magic spells. Now, he could.

“You weren’t crazy?” Rodger asked, curious what had him in such a good mood.

“That remains to be seen, but I have a good feeling about the whole casting magical spells thing.” He placed his sculptures on the ground in a neat row. He wouldn’t be needing them where he was going.

Clover glanced over to the other side of the Safe Zone. The loading bay door had been opened, casting warm rays of light into the factory, and outside of that, a crowd was hesitantly beginning to gather. It was time to go.

Rodger nodded and followed behind him as he nervously wheeled toward the entrance. As he went, those who chose the safer option – those who had decided not to leave, stared at him, their critical gazes piercing his confidence.

It would be smarter to wait – he didn’t have to leave today. If he raised his Skill Levels a bit higher before leaving…

Clover's left hand shook uncontrollably. Intellectually, he knew what he had to do, yet no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't force himself to do it.

“Why are they still here? Don’t they know no one is coming to save them,” Clover asked as he paused before the loading bay door. He made no motion to cross its border.

Rodger chuckled. “They’re the smart ones here. Only someone who’s exceptionally brave, dumb, or desperate would rush out the door of the Safe Zone at the first opportunity.”

A clock softly ticked, counting down the seconds. "Or afraid." Clover tightly gripped his shaking hand with the other, forcing it to still. "I think, if you're scared enough, you'll do just about anything."

He took a deep breath, then exited the factory, navigating across the parking lot till he found a semi-isolated spot near the back of the crowd underneath a parking light lamp. Or whatever the official name was. He didn't have a clue.

Self-consciously, he couldn't help but note that he stuck out like a sore thumb. In the gathering group, there was no one else like him.

Clover tapped his fingers against his wheelchair as he waited. Before long, the group had assembled in its entirety, and they listened to Dr. White as he gave a basic outline of their plan. It was quite simple, really: they would head west as a group. What would happen past that, the doctor didn't expand upon.

As the speech finished and the group made its final preparations to leave, a portly man to Clover's left chuckled. "Are you sure you should be out here?" as he stared at Clover with what he assumed was disdain.

Clover didn't verbally respond; instead, he raised his hand to the sky with an open palm and recalled the System's instructions on how to activate [Unstable Mana Bolt]. First, he closed his eyes and internally searched. He wasn't sure what he was searching for, but the System had been clear that there was something he had to find, or more precisely, access to use an Active Skill. Less than a second later, in what felt like the center of his chest, but he was certain it wasn't, he found a strange crystalline structure at the edge of his consciousness.

He could not fully perceive it, but it responded when he pressed against it with his will. His eyes snapped open. Lumpy and misshapen, a ball composed of varying shades of blue mana formed in his hand. Instinctively, he knew he had tepid control of the construct at best. He could not hold it back for long. He did not want to hold it back.

"[Unstable Mana Bolt]," he whispered to himself.

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

Safety glass rained around him as the spell smashed into the overhead parking light.

“I’ll be fine.”

The man took a large step back. “Oh, ok.” He inched away, disappearing into the crowd.

Internally, Clover cheered. That had actually been kind of cool. He struggled to keep a massive grin off his face lest he ruin the effect. Though, after a moment's consideration, he wilted a bit; maybe he shouldn't have done that.

What if it hadn't worked? That would have been embarrassing.

The entirety of the group stared in his direction, their attention drawn by the commotion. Clover meekly waved back.

Doctor White coughed into his fist. “If there’s nothing else, we should get moving.”

There were no disagreements, so, on that note, the group departed, hesitantly venturing into the city.

With magic and a new dawn, what could go wrong?