Genoes continued through the shattered remains of the corridor. His body still felt weak, trembling from the aftermath of the . . . he was not sure what to call it. A blast? It felt like something he had seen Eliud do a thousand times. But the Pendragon was, well, he was him. The idea that Genoes could be capable of anything remotely similar was simply beyond the realms of possibility. However, as the boy walked, there came a new determination in his eyes, a flicker of something that had not been there before, a more upright nature to his stance, perhaps. It was not just hope—it was a sense of purpose, a need to understand, to control the power that he had somehow managed to awaken.

The very atmosphere around him felt different now - more charged - as if the explosion had left a residue of its energy hanging in the air. Gone was the oppressive silence to be replaced by something brimming with potential. Genoes could feel it, faint but insistent, a thrumming just beneath the surface of his skin. It was as if the world had become more vivid, its shadows darker, its silences louder. His senses were heightened, becoming attuned to something he could not quite name.

Of course, Genoes had a vague understanding of the nature of the power flaring within him. He had lived his whole life around those who had manifested similar abilities; he had just not dared hope that he would ever gain a Class himself one day. Thus, although it had nearly consumed him, the appearance of that power also left him craving more. He knew that Eliud, Daine and Kirstin drew their powers from their own Skill Slots, but these were all directly connected to their various Classes. He had never heard of anyone gaining an ability in a Classless state - much less one that was not precise as to what it did.

A sudden determination gripped him. He had to find out more about what was happening to him. He had to explore it, understand it, and, most importantly, learn to wield it.

His thoughts drifted back to the Village, and a small, wistful smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He remembered old Bracken, a travelling merchant who stopped by on his trade route a few times each year. He had been a kind, round man with a balding head and a permanent smell of spices about him. To a young lad, his caravan had been a treasure trove of curiosities, shelves lined with jars of sweets, bags of flour, and every kind of dried herb Genoes could imagine.

He could still picture the old man accepting a tray of freshly baked bread rolls as a trade for something or other. With a wave of his fingers and a murmured word, Bracken would trigger a Skill and a soft, golden glow would settle over the bread, sealing in its freshness as if time had been paused. "The rolls'll stay warm an' soft fer months, lad," he would say, "ya'd be s'prised how much I can fetch fer decent bread when I git t'the City."

Genoes had been fascinated by the ease with which Bracken used his Skill. It had seemed as natural to the old trader as breathing. Genoes had watched, wide-eyed, as the bread glowed and the air filled with the comforting scent of freshly baked goods. Bracken would chuckle at the boy’s amazement, ruffling Genoes’s hair and handing him a roll.

If Bracken could use his Skill so effortlessly, was that something he could learn to do too? Almost instinctively, the heat within him built up again, and Genoes saw a golden light begin to infuse his hands. The blinking notification in his vision changed to read Activate in open Skill Slot?

With a start, he dismissed the notification, the glow diffusing away as if it had never been. Bracken had a very appropriate Skill for his own trade, but such an ability would seem of little help to Genoes very now. Even with that thought, he became aware that his breath was misting in the cold air, and he shivered. The Keep was freezing, the stone floor and walls literally leeching all the heat from his body. Genoes clenched his fists, feeling the faint pulse of energy in his veins. The warmth he had felt earlier—could he summon it again? Could he use his power to ward off the cold?

He stopped walking along the corridor and focused inward, actively reaching for that spark within him. It came more quickly this time and without any pain: a flicker of heat deep in his chest. Genoes concentrated, willing the sensation to grow and spread through his body. Slowly, he felt it move, flowing from his chest to his arms and legs, radiating outwards until it enveloped him in an embrace of heat. The cold receded, and he sighed in relief. The heat was not as intense as before—it was gentler, more controlled. He imagined the energy as a small, contained flame, something he could stoke or dampen at will. It was a delicate balance, but he thought he was beginning to grasp it.

The notification blinked again in the corner of his vision: Activate in open Skill Slot? Genoes frowned, his instinct to accept the Skill tugging at him; this at least would be useful: it would make survival in this frigid Keep much easier. But something held him back. He had no idea how he had been able to open the Skill Slot in the first place. Would not putting a Skill into it be like closing a door? If so, he was not ready to limit himself to purely feeling warm just yet. He dismissed the notification, fearing the cocoon of heat surrounding him would fade. However, when it did not, the boy felt his mood improve significantly.

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The corridors twisted and turned in a seemingly endless maze, but Genoes pressed on. The new warmth in his body was a steady comfort that dispelled his previous dark mood. The silence of the Keep was unpleasant, but he was no longer afraid of it. In fact, with each step, he felt more in tune with the energy inside him, more confident in his ability to control it. Then, as he rounded a corner, something small and dark scurried across the floor.

Genoes froze, his eyes narrowing as he watched the creature—a giant rat, its fur matted and its eyes gleaming in the dim light. It paused, sniffing the air, oblivious to Genoes’ presence. The boy sank back into the shadows, nervous. He had encountered these rats in the Keep before and knew, from painful experience, that they could be more than just a nuisance. Genoes raised his hand without consciously thinking, focusing on the energy within him. The heat suffusing his body shifted, turning sharp, almost electric, as it gathered in his palm. Then, instinctively, he directed the energy outward towards the rat. At first, nothing happened. The rat continued to sniff the air, twitching its whiskers as it searched for food. Frustration bubbled up inside Genoes. He could feel the energy coiling in his hand, but it was not responding how he wanted it to. He pushed harder.

And then, with a crackling hiss, it exploded outward.

The rat’s body convulsed violently, a burst of light and heat enveloping it instantly. There was no time for the creature to react, no chance for it to escape. Its fur blackened, skin splitting as the energy tore through it. The stench of burning flesh filled the corridor. Genoes watched, a mixture of horror and fascination gripping him, as the rat’s body disintegrated into ash, leaving behind nothing but a charred smear on the floor.

Another notification appeared: Activate in open Skill Slot?

Genoes stared at the spot where the rat had been, his heart pounding. The power he had unleashed was terrifying . . . yet exhilarating. The feeling of control, of being able to direct such destructive force, was intoxicating. But it had also been wild, untamed. He had been unable to do anything until the energy had responded to his frustration and anger, and he had felt it almost slip free of him.

Genoes forced himself to breathe, to calm down. This power was dangerous, he knew that now. But it was also incredible. He could not afford to let it consume him, to let his emotions dictate how it was used. If he had doubts about that, he only had to think about how the Dark God used his abilities. No. He had to stay in control. Eliud could throw power a million times more potent than a , yet he sought to restrain his incredible powers. Yes, Genoes thought, nodding. He would do the same.

He dismissed the notification again, though it was noticeably harder this time. The Skill was tempting—there was a certain allure to having such a weapon at his disposal. But he was not ready to accept it, not yet.

He needed to explore further to see what else he could do.

Genoes's stomach growled, the sound echoing in the empty hall. He had not eaten since the storm had driven him back into the Keep, and the exertion of using his new powers was leaving him drained. He needed something to eat and drink, and he needed it soon.

A memory of a storeroom flashed into his mind. He remembered seeing it once when the Dark God had taken him on a tour of the Keep. Apparently, he was not the first 'guest' to be kept here, and a store of preserved human food had been considered necessary. It was somewhere deep within the area where supplies were kept—food, water, perhaps even something more useful. If Genoes could find it, he could replenish his strength and continue his experiments.

The boy closed his eyes, focusing inward. The spark inside him pulsed in response, eager, almost impatient. He pictured the storeroom in his mind, the heavy wooden door, the rows of shelves laden with provisions. Could he use his power to find it? He was not sure, but it was worth a try.

He let the energy flow through him, guiding his steps. Funnily enough, it was like following a thread, an invisible line that tugged at him, pulling him in a specific direction. Walking with his eyes closed like this, the corridors became much less daunting, its twists and turns more predictable. Genoes moved with purpose, the warmth of the energy a steady presence inside him, guiding his steps.

As he walked, he became more aware of the energy’s nuances and facets. There was the warmth he could use to keep himself comfortable, the sharpness that could be channelled into destruction, and something else—something subtler, a kind of attunement to his surroundings. He was tapping into this now, using it to navigate the Keep. A further notification blinked into view. Activate in open Skill Slot?

Genoes hesitated, tempted to accept on this occasion. It would make finding his way through the Keep much easier, but he resisted the urge. He was starting to understand that these Skills were like shortcuts, ways to lock in specific uses of his power. But by choosing one, he would limit his ability to explore others. In his current position, it would be wise to keep his options open.

The corridors grew darker as he moved deeper into the Keep. But Genoes did not stop. He could now feel the storeroom’s presence, a faint pull guiding him onward. The energy inside him responded to his need, attuning to his goal.

Finally, he turned a corner and saw it—the heavy wooden door of the storeroom, precisely as he remembered. Relief washed over him, and he quickened his pace, reaching out to push the door open. It creaked on its hinges, the sound loud in the silence. The storeroom was dark, the only light coming from the faint glow of the energy still coursing through him. Genoes stepped inside, his eyes scanning the shelves.

There were sacks of grain, barrels of water, and crates filled with dried meat and fruit. Enough to keep him alive for a long time. He reached for a piece of dried meat, biting into it hungrily. The food was tough and tasteless, but he did not care. It was sustenance, and that was all that mattered.

For the first time since being pulled into this realm, Genoes allowed himself to relax as he ate, the tension easing from his muscles. The energy inside him settled as if replenishing itself in the same way the boy was through eating. Before he knew it, and with a piece of jerky still clutched in his hand, Genoes drifted off to a comforting sleep.