Third Person's POV
"If I am not hallucinating then... why the hell does this not have a reflection?" Alaric murmured while staring at the bright red panel hovering in midair. It didn’t make sense—nothing made sense.
The thing looked like a sheet of glass—thin, fragile even. Alaric reached out, half-expecting to feel the cool surface beneath his fingers. Instead, his hand passed through like it was made of mist. Alaric pulled back, eyebrows shooting up. “Okay... definitely not glass.”
A sharp ring echoed in his mind like someone had struck a bell inside his skull. Alaric winced, clutching his head for a second. Then, text began to materialize on the panel before him, shifting and glowing with every word. He blinked, feeling a mix of awe and confusion. "What is this..."
[Ding!]
[System Alert: Nascent One's Guide System Booting Up...]
[Initializing Core Protocols...]
[Confirming Host's Identity... Success.]
[Scanning Host Compatibility... Success.]
[Synchronizing with Host...]
[Calculating Prowess:... Completed.]
[Establishing Connection...]
[Nascent One's Guide System Fully Operational.]
The panel zapped off, vanishing, leaving Alaric confused but soon another panel appeared.
[System Alert: Activating Auxiliary Entity...]
[Entity Name: "Boon" Initialized.]
[Analyzing Host Mental Parameters...]
[Boon Interface Calibrating...]
[Verifying Host-Entity Connection...]
[Connection Stable. Synchronization Complete.]
[Boon: Online.]
The next panel blinked out of existence, too. By this time, Alaric's face was the embodiment of bewilderment. His hands shot up above his head, lips parting in shock, as a new panel materialized and surprised him. He had to cover his mouth before he screamed.
[Greetings Host. I am Boon.]
“W-What? A voice... I can hear it in my head!” Alaric stammered, instinctively taking a few steps back but the panel, as if mocking his attempt to create distance, drifted closer.
[Obviously, you can.]
The panel’s words practically oozed smugness, causing Alaric to frown awkwardly, as though he'd been caught off guard by something as simple as common sense.
[Since you still think I’m a hallucination, let me quickly prove to you that I’m real.]
“Huh? How do you even know what I’m thinking?” Alaric’s eyes narrowed, confusion and scepticism battling it out on his face.
[Because I’m connected to the System, which is connected to you. I can hear all your thoughts... in fact, I also know why you are like that.]
“Like whAAAATTTTTT?!!!!!” Alaric screamed as he looked down and saw his crotch, the prominent tent formed in his pajamas had barely subsided. Alaric quickly became bright red, jumping left and right in embarrassment and squealing as he realized the reason why everyone had a smile on their face as they slowly left his room, even his father.
[In your dreams... leaning back in a hot spring... those two—]
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“Okay! Okay! Shut UP!” Alaric tried to lower his voice down but it was still no less than a yell, his voice bouncing off the bathroom walls. He cringed, realizing he might’ve just announced his mortification to the entire household.
[Hehe.]
The panel, of course, found his discomfort amusing. Alaric could only glare at the glowing text with a deadpan expression, wondering how his life had taken such a bizarre turn. The bizarre turn obviously was, everyone witnessing his morning wood.
[Let me explain myself. I am Boon, your symbolic and affective companion. My purpose is to assist you with navigating the system, and answering your questions... but mind it there are some things I can’t reveal.]
“And why’s that?” Alaric raised an eyebrow, suspicious. This floating panel looked out of this world, no one standing in his room was able to see it yet there were limits.
[Because I’m not allowed to.]
“Allowed?” Alaric muttered under his breath. His eyes scanned the panel sceptically. "You need permission?"
[I do.]
"Whose permission?" Alaric asked, curiosity barely masking the tension in his voice. He squinted at the glowing panel, waiting.
[ᚨᚱᛒᛁ??? ●● ●ᛚᛚ]
Alaric froze, his eyebrows knitting together. The text on the panel looked like scribbles, and the voice in his head had shifted into something incomprehensible—like someone gargling marbles while reciting an ancient spell.
Boon didn’t seem to care. [See? That’s what happens when I try to tell you things I’m not allowed to. Garbled nonsense.]
Alaric’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he kept his expression neutral. He glanced at the panel, mentally noting how conveniently mysterious this system liked to be.
'Is it messing with me? a trick maybe?' he thought, though his face remained indifferent.
[You can be suspicious if you want. Doesn’t bother me at all. I’m not here to coddle you. I’m just your guide to avoid dumb mistakes. If you want to act like a child, be my guest.]
Alaric’s lips twitched. "I am a child."
A long pause followed. Alaric imagined Boon making an awkward cough.
[...]
Silence. Perfect.
He splashed his face with cold water, watching the droplets hit the sink as he mulled over what just happened.
"What were those panels... the loud ringing in my head?"
[The ring was just a system notification finishing its boot-up. Those panels were logs—basically, pointless. But I figured I’d show you the logs anyway. Thought it’d be fun.]
'Boot-up? When did it even start?' Alaric thought, frowning slightly. The cool water dripped off his chin.
[When you fell asleep. You noticed, right? One moment, you’re staring at the ceiling. Next, you’re in dreamland.]
Alaric nodded absently, rubbing his face with his palms. He didn’t need to keep looking at the panel; its voice was clear enough in his head.
'So... why me? Why am I the 'host' of this system? What does it even mean?' His thoughts flowed more easily now, the initial weirdness of talking to a floating voice fading.
[Oh, look at you, already talking to me in your head like a pro! Sharp kid.]
Alaric smirked slightly but said nothing. He moved toward the door, intending to leave the bathroom and rejoin the world outside.
[Wait—claim your reward first.]
'Reward? For what?'
Boon stayed quiet, and instead, a new panel blinked into view, the text appearing like a pop-up window.
[Congratulations, Host! You’ve formed a core and reached the Black stage of Core Cultivation.]
[Reward: Eyes of Panoptes]
[Accept | Decline]
Alaric’s eyes widened at the text, but his lips twitched as he muttered to himself, "Eyes of... what now?" The more this system revealed, the more it sounded like a bad joke.
'What happens if I decline?' Alaric mused, glancing sceptically at the panel.
[Exactly what you think, genius. You get to win a lottery.] Boon’s voice lathered with sarcasm.
Alaric rolled his eyes, 'Yeah, figured as much.'
'Can you at least tell me what it does?... The whole [Eyes of Panoptes] thing doesn’t exactly sound like something I want. I’m not in the market for someone else’s eyeballs as a prize.' His imagination, unfortunately, was already conjuring images of disembodied eyes rolling into his hand.
[Relax. No floating eyeballs. It’s an upgrade to your vision, not a horror show.]
'Alright…’ Alaric shot the panel another glance, eyes narrowing at the bright red text. His gaze shifted to the mirror again, where his reflection still refused to show up.
'This might at least prove if I’m going crazy or not.'
He reached out to tap the panel but, predictably, his fingers phased right through it.
[Idiot,] Boon snarked, [just think the answer, like you’re doing with everything else.]
'Why are you so complicated?' Alaric sighed, internally.
[Complicated? You call this complicated? Imagine scrolling through a long list and your finger overshoots or undershoots every time. Mental control gives you precision. You do exactly what you want, exactly how much you want. No more accidental swiping left on your fate.]
Alaric had to admit that sounded reasonable. 'Okay, fine. Accept it is.'
He nodded, then froze when another message flashed up.
[Clench your teeth. This is going to hurt.]
Alaric had no time to react before an intense, fiery throb exploded behind his eyes, sending him crashing onto the cold bathroom tiles. His skull felt like it was being cracked open, every pulse a fresh wave of searing pain. He gritted his teeth, trying to swallow the scream threatening to tear through his throat, but muffled groans escaped as his body writhed on the floor. His palms pressed desperately against his eyes as if somehow that would stop the sensation of them being burned out of their sockets.
Seconds dragged like hours, each one filled with unrelenting agony. By the time the torture finally ebbed, it had only been a minute or two, though it felt like an eternity.
Alaric gasped for air, clutching at his chest as he fought to steady his ragged breathing. Sweat and tears clung to his face like a second skin.
"W-What di—"
[Open your eyes.]
Boon's voice was calm, commanding, and left no room for argument. Alaric hesitated, his hands still covering his face, as if the mere thought of exposing his eyes to light would bring the pain rushing back. Slowly, cautiously, he peeled his palms away and cracked his eyes open.
Everything was a blur. The familiar white tiles of the bathroom swirled into a hazy mess, his vision swimming. He blinked several times, eyelids aching with every movement, but eventually, the world began to sharpen again, coming into focus.
And then he saw it.
Blood.
He jolted upright, stumbling to the sink. His heart hammered in his chest as he caught his reflection in the mirror—blood streaming down his face, staining his hands.
Alaric frantically splashed water onto his face, scrubbing at the red streaks with wide-eyed horror. For a split second, he glanced down at the bathroom floor, expecting to see a bloodbath.
Thankfully, there were only a few stray droplets, which he quickly cleaned, his heart still racing.
After a long, shaky breath, Alaric finally sighed in relief. But then it hit him—breakfast. He'd asked for it ages ago, and he'd been holed up in the bathroom far too long.
Without so much as a second glance at the blood-soaked ordeal he’d just endured, Alaric shot out of the bathroom, barreling down the hallways like a man on a mission. By the time he slid into his seat in the dining hall, he tried to push everything out of his mind. Eyes bleeding? Hovering panels? Sure, but first—food.
Just as he began to regain a shred of calm, Nessa materialized out of nowhere. "AH!" Alaric flinched, nearly toppling out of his chair as he caught sight of her. The plates in her hands clattered, threatening to slide off, but Nessa didn’t even blink.
"Your breakfast, young master," she said, setting the plates down with the precision of someone who’d done this far too many times.
Alaric stared at the plates, his stomach rumbling in response making Nessa smile.