The months passed in a blur of contracts, training, and quiet progress. Sid and I took every job we could find in the woods—clearing out dens of wolves, hunting down rogue boars, and dealing with the occasional corrupted creature that had lingered too long in the wilds. They weren’t corrupted in the same way the swamp creatures had been, but they carried faint traces of something darker, like echoes of whatever had come through that portal. It always set my nerves on edge, but Sid reassured me it was nothing serious.

“It’s just the remnants,” he’d said after one particularly brutal fight with a bear that had patches of black, matted fur and an unnatural rage in its eyes. “The corruption isn’t spreading anymore. The portal’s closed. It’s over—for now.”

Except it wasn’t entirely gone.

It wasn’t spreading, but I could feel it, lingering in me. The black ooze that leaked from my arm to form my weapons, the chill that settled in my chest whenever I summoned a sword—it was a constant reminder that I was different.

Over the months, I leveled up steadily. Fighting creatures, completing contracts, and training under Sid’s relentless instruction brought me up three levels. Every time I gained points, I poured them all into Dexterity. I didn’t want to rely on brute strength or tanking hits like some walking fortress. My style was speed—quick strikes, fast dodges, getting in and out of danger before the enemy even knew what hit them.

I was starting to see the difference now. My movements were sharper, cleaner. I could feel the agility in my body as I dodged incoming attacks, my feet barely touching the ground before I launched myself forward for a counterstrike. Sid even commented once, during a sparring session, that I was starting to get harder to hit. Coming from him, that was high praise.

But as fast as I’d become, I wasn’t ready for my ultimate goal yet—dual-wielding swords. Sid had told me to focus on perfecting one weapon first, and I knew he was right. My One-Handed Sword skill was growing, but I still had a long way to go before I could handle two blades effectively. Still, it was something to aim for.

My abilities, while limited, were becoming second nature. Over time, I learned to summon my black sword with a flick of my wrist, the ooze pooling and hardening into a weapon in an instant. It felt natural now, like an extension of my arm. Summoning no longer felt like a drain on me unless I pushed too far, and reabsorbing the weapon had become as easy as letting go of the hilt.

Sid was particularly interested in testing my limits, and we spent countless nights hidden deep in the woods, away from prying eyes, experimenting with what I could do.

One of the things we discovered was that my darkness seemed to thrive at night.

When the sun went down, and the world was cloaked in shadow, my abilities felt sharper, stronger. The swords I summoned felt heavier in a way that wasn’t physical—they carried more power, more presence, like the black ooze was feeding off the night itself. They also lasted longer before I felt any drain.

“It makes sense,” Sid said one night as we sat by a small fire after a long training session. “The whole thing about you being ‘The Shadow’—it’s tied to darkness. This isn’t the kind of magic that fades under the sun. It’s nocturnal. You’ll probably be at your best when the sun’s down.”

“Great,” I muttered, poking at the fire with a stick. “So, I’m a creature of the night now?”

Sid smirked. “Something like that. Could be worse. At least you don’t burst into flames in daylight.” He always knew how to lighten the mood.

Despite everything, there hadn’t been any new abilities. I was starting to think the System worked differently for me—maybe because of my corruption, maybe because of my class. Most people unlocked new abilities every couple of levels, but all I had were the same two: Corruption and Corrupt Weapon. Sid told me not to worry about it.

“You’re still figuring this out,” he’d said. “It’s better to master what you have than to pile on more powers you don’t understand. Keep working on your sword skill, keep testing the limits of what you can do. Abilities will come when they come.”

Still, it was frustrating. I didn’t want to just exist with this corruption. I wanted to grow stronger. Faster. Smarter. I wanted to be ready for whatever was coming next, and I knew deep down that something was coming.

After months of contracts, battles, and training, my stats were finally starting to take shape. Every level-up, every point of experience, and every ounce of effort was paying off. While I still felt a long way from mastering anything, I could see the progress—and it felt good.

I opened my status screen, letting the translucent menu hover in front of me, its faint glow lighting up the room.

Status

Name: Sigvard

Class: Shadow

Level: 7

Health: 140/140

Stamina: 70/70

Mana: 0/0

Status Effects: None

Attributes

* Strength: 10

* Dexterity: 30

* Endurance: 12

* Charisma: 6

* Intelligence: 6

Skills

* One-Handed Sword: Level 8

* Jumping: Level 4

* Running: Level 5

* Awareness: Level 2

* Corruption Mastery: Level 1

Abilities

* Corruption: You are corrupted by the Darkness.

* Corrupt Weapon: Use your Darkness to conjure a weapon of choice. Weapons are stronger at night and unbreakable.

One evening, as we sat around a campfire after finishing a job clearing out some overgrown dire rats (which smelled even worse when they were dead), I decided to ask the question that had been gnawing at me. Sid was tending to his sword like he always did, the firelight dancing across the blade as he checked for nicks.

“Sid,” I said, poking the fire with a stick, “is there anywhere we can find more information about… the Darkness?”

He didn’t look up but paused briefly, his hand hovering over the blade. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” I said with a shrug, though I definitely did know. “It just feels like I’m walking around blind. You’ve told me what you know, which has been great, don’t get me wrong, but I want more. I mean, this thing is inside me. I need to know where it came from, why it’s here, and—” I gestured vaguely at myself “—why it’s apparently decided I’m its favorite roommate.”

Sid finished his inspection and set the sword down, leaning back against a log. “I’ve been thinking about that too,” he admitted. “We might need to take a trip to the central city.”

“The central city?” I asked, perking up.

He nodded. “Biggest city in the Empire. It’s where everything happens—trade, politics, history, knowledge, you name it. And, more importantly, it’s where the Grand Imperial Library is.”

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I raised an eyebrow. “A library? That’s our big plan? Hit the books?”

Sid smirked. “Don’t underestimate it. The Grand Imperial Library has just about every scrap of knowledge the Empire’s ever collected. Maps, histories, old texts, magic theories… If there’s anything written down about the Darkness, it’ll be there.”

The idea of a massive library was… oddly exciting. The closest I’d come to a library back on Earth was a coffee shop that had a bookshelf with a copy of Twilight and a manual for fixing air conditioners. The idea that an entire empire had poured all of its knowledge into one place was fascinating.

“Sounds great,” I said. “When do we leave?”

Sid gave me a look, the kind of look he usually reserved for when I said something stupid, which was alarmingly often. “Not yet. The central city’s not just big—it’s massive. Millions of people live there, Sigvard. It’s crowded, noisy, and dangerous, especially for someone like you who barely knows which way is north half the time.”

“Hey,” I said, feigning offense, “I’ve gotten way better at directions.”

“Sure you have,” Sid said with a smirk. “But you’ve got no experience with a place like that. The central city isn’t like these small towns or villages. You’d get lost in five minutes, robbed in ten, and arrested in fifteen.”

“Sounds like a productive morning,” I muttered, poking at the fire again.

“We’ll go eventually,” Sid said, his tone more serious. “But not yet. The library isn’t going anywhere—unless, of course, some idiot decides to set the place on fire. And with our luck, that’s probably a real possibility.”

“Great,” I said with a sigh, leaning back against the log. “So we just wait?”

“We keep training,” Sid said firmly. “You’re not ready for the central city yet, but you will be. And in the meantime, you’ve still got a lot to learn about this world.”

He wasn’t wrong about that. Over the months, I’d been piecing together bits and pieces about how this world worked, but there were still so many things that left me scratching my head.

For starters, the currency here was insane. Coins were made of actual gold, silver, and copper—not paper, not credit cards, but real, clinking, heavy metal coins. At first, I thought it was kind of cool, but then I realized just how inconvenient it was. Carrying a handful of gold coins was fine, but if you had a decent amount of money, you’d need a literal sack to haul it around. It made me miss the simplicity of swiping a debit card at a convenience store.

And then there was the food. Most of it was good—basic but hearty. Meat, bread, stew. But there were some things I couldn’t wrap my head around. For example, they had this thing called “tree jelly.” It was exactly what it sounded like: jelly made from the sap of trees. People spread it on bread like peanut butter, but it tasted like someone had dipped a stick into sugar water and called it a delicacy. Sid loved the stuff, which just made me question his taste in everything.

Another thing I’d learned was that time worked differently here. Back on Earth, we measured time in minutes, hours, and days. Here, people still had days and weeks, but they measured time by the position of the sun and moon. “Meet me at second moonrise” wasn’t uncommon, which sounded poetic until you realized it was basically the fantasy equivalent of saying, “Meet me after the clock does a full spin twice.”

Even the System itself was strange. It was almost like it had a personality—a snarky one. Sometimes, after a fight, I’d get a notification like, “Nice swing. Maybe next time aim for the actual enemy?” Or, “Congratulations, you survived! Barely.” It was like having a sarcastic, invisible trainer who lived in my brain. Sid said the notifications were just part of how the System worked, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that it was messing with me specifically.

And don’t get me started on the magic. Most of the people I’d met couldn’t use magic directly—mages were rare—but there were enchantments on everything. Sid’s sword had a minor durability enchantment that kept it from breaking too easily, which I thought was neat. But then there were things like enchanted boots that made your feet smell better or plates that kept your food warm indefinitely. Practical, sure, but it made me wonder why no one had invented something really useful, like a self-cleaning cloak.

As I sat there thinking about all the weird little quirks of this world, I couldn’t help but feel a pang of homesickness for Earth. I missed phones, cars, and coffee that didn’t come with a side of tree jelly. But at the same time, this world had its charm. It was messy, confusing, and occasionally terrifying, but it was starting to feel… real.

I glanced over at Sid, who was sharpening his sword again. “You think the library has all the answers?”

“No,” he said without looking up. “But it’s a good place to start.”

That was enough for me—for now. There was still so much I didn’t understand about the Darkness, about myself, and about this world. But if the answers were out there, I’d find them. Eventually.

The sun hung high in the sky, the heat pressing down as Sid and I worked through another grueling training session. The clearing was quiet except for the occasional rustle of leaves in the breeze and the clinking of Sid’s sword as he adjusted his stance. He leaned on his weapon now, watching me closely with that sharp, assessing look that made me feel like I was constantly being graded on everything I did.

“Alright,” Sid said, sheathing his sword. “Let’s try something different. I want you to focus on extending the Darkness.”

I raised an eyebrow. “The ooze, you mean?”

He winced a little, muttering under his breath. “We’re calling it the Darkness now. Ooze sounds like something you’d scrape off your boots.”

“Darkness sounds way less ominous,” I said with a smirk.

Sid ignored me. “Just focus. Push it out—not just through your arm for a weapon, but your whole body. I want to see how far you can go. Controlled environment, remember? Better to test it now than in the middle of a fight.”

I sighed, tilting my head down and closing my eyes. “Alright, fine. Pushing… all of it.”

I took a deep breath and concentrated. I imagined the chill of the Darkness spreading out from my core, pouring through my body and out into the world. I focused harder, gritting my teeth and pushing with everything I had. At first, I felt… nothing.

“No dice,” I said, opening my eyes with a frown. “I think it’s—”

That’s when I saw Sid.

He was standing several feet away, sword drawn, his usual calm demeanor replaced by something I hadn’t seen before: fear.

“What?” I asked, confused.

“Do you still have control?” Sid’s voice was sharp, edged with caution.

“Yes, I think—” I paused, suddenly unsure. “I do?”

Sid’s shoulders relaxed slightly, and he lowered his sword. “Look down,” he said, his tone still tense.

I blinked at him, then slowly glanced down at myself.

My breath caught.

Dark, shadowy flames rippled across my body, flickering and twisting like fire made from smoke and ink. The purple-black energy danced across my arms, legs, and chest, shifting and swirling in ways that didn’t seem possible. It didn’t burn, but it felt… alive. Like the Darkness was wrapped around me, breathing with me.

“What the hell?” I muttered, lifting my hand to inspect the strange shadowy fire. The movement made it flicker and ripple, responding to my touch like it was part of me.

“You’re in some kind of form,” Sid said, his voice tight. “Push into it. See what it can do.”

I nodded, though my heart was pounding. Taking a deep breath, I focused on the strange energy surrounding me, willing it to do something—anything. I pushed deeper into the form, and immediately, I felt it.

A wave of power surged through me, tense and electric, like every muscle in my body had suddenly gone into overdrive. My movements felt sharper, faster, like the weight of the world had been lifted from my shoulders.

At the edge of my vision, a faint notification popped up.

New Ability: Shadowform

Your body is consumed by shadowy energy. All stats temporarily doubled.

Warning: Drains stamina and is difficult to maintain.

I stared at the notification for a moment, my hands shaking slightly as the power coursed through me. My legs felt spring-loaded, my arms strong enough to snap steel. It was intoxicating, this overwhelming sense of capability—but it was also unstable. The form felt heavy, hard to hold, like trying to keep a fire burning against a strong wind.

“Sigvard,” Sid said sharply, pulling me out of my thoughts. “Control it. Don’t let it control you.”

I nodded, taking a slow, deep breath. The shadowy flames flickered, then began to fade. Bit by bit, the energy peeled away, retreating into my body until the clearing was quiet again.

I stood there for a moment, panting slightly, my hands still trembling as I looked down at myself. My body felt normal again, though there was a faint ache in my muscles, like I’d just sprinted a mile without stopping.

Sid let out a low whistle, sheathing his sword. “That,” he said, “was impressive. Dangerous, but impressive.”

“It felt… powerful,” I admitted, sitting down on a nearby rock to catch my breath. “But it was hard to hold. Like it was trying to slip away from me.”

“Probably because it’s new,” Sid said, leaning on a tree as he studied me. “Abilities like that don’t just pop into existence fully formed. You’ll need practice—lots of it—if you want to control it properly. But for now, at least we know you’ve got it in you.”

I nodded, though the thought of pushing into that form again made me uneasy. It had felt incredible, but it had also felt like I was standing at the edge of a cliff, one wrong move away from falling into something I couldn’t get out of.

“So,” I said, forcing a weak grin. “All stats doubled, huh? Guess I’m finally faster than you now.”

Sid smirked. “In that form, maybe. But without it, you’ve still got a long way to go, kid.”

I rolled my eyes, but the truth was, I didn’t mind. Shadowform was a game-changer—an ability that could tip the scales in any fight. But I knew Sid was right. If I didn’t learn to control it, it wouldn’t matter how strong or fast it made me.

For now, though, I was content with the knowledge that I’d taken another step forward. Another piece of the Darkness was mine to command. And with Sid’s help, I’d figure out how to wield it properly.

We packed up the clearing and headed back to camp. My muscles still ached from the effort, but I couldn’t stop replaying the moment in my mind. The flames, the surge of power, the way the world had seemed to slow around me.

Shadowform. I could already tell it was going to be one hell of an asset—and one hell of a challenge.