I reform. Teleportation never really feels better, but I’m at least getting used to what I can only describe as being torn apart and pieced back together. Meanwhile, all around me is darkness. Did the teleporter malf-

(You’re in a dark room.)

Oh.

(Yeah, ‘oh’. Maybe look for a door instead of standing here like an idiot?)

Doesn’t seem like Nyx is getting less hostile any time soon, but she’s not wrong. I manifest a feeler and try to get an idea of my surroundings, but so far I only notice smooth walls. There has to be more to this... so I try again, more slowly.

(...Or you could, like, squint really hard. At the walls.)

Now you’re just making fun of me.

(Or you could do it. Wraiths are ‘creatures of the night’, right? Ever wonder why you can’t see in the dark?)

That’s... a fair point, actually. Regardless of her abrasiveness, she does make good points usually. I pick a direction, and I focus my vision and will toward it. At first only more darkness is my reward, until the room suddenly brightens.

[Available Skill: Darkvision used for the first time!]

[Darkvision added to Skills!]

(There we go.)

Yeah, the walls are smooth, and uniform. But I can see a spot marked for a key, so I touch the portal key to it and the entire wall slides out of the way, exposing a simple hallway with a simple bristled mat at the entrance. The path left ends in a small alcove where a jacket hangs, while the right opens up into a small room with a few posters on the walls, as well as a cushioned surface and a handful of runic devices in a state of half-assembly scattered on the table in front of it. A furred creature stirs on the cushions, and I move closer for a better look at it before it lets out a surprised snarl and vaults over the edge to hide.

(Don’t eat the cat.)

I wasn’t-

(Do. Not. Eat. The. Cat.)

Bu-

(You are literally made of eat-all-the-living-thing now. You’ll have to forgive me for assuming your default response to anything living is to eat it.)

Exasperation consumes me as Nyx crouches down to look under the cushioned surface-

(It’s called a sofa.)

-under the sofa.

(Poor baby.)

I can’t help but wonder if she likes cats or dislikes people, but from a glance I can tell it’s the smallest of the small nibbles of vitality. I probably wouldn’t even notice it if I did eat it, so it’s fine, mmhm, I’ll go with that. Regardless, it’s nice enough to have someplace I can relax a bit, I think?

(Cats can see dematerialized specters. It's not really a surprise he reacted like that. Such a pretty orange too.)

Stolen novel; please report.

Orange?

(Yes, orange. The cat? It's orange.)

Not gray?

(You... right.)

What?

Nyx glares. (You’re still asking stupid questions! Just, look around and figure it out. Idiot,) she snaps, the last part under her breath.

Fine.

I take a few moments to wander the room and take in the simple way our late ‘friend’ chose to decorate his lair. Most of the posters look to be related to musical celebrities of some kind, considering the equipment they’re pictured using. Others look like... I’m not sure what.

(Video games. It’s like, what mortals use to pretend to be ascendants when they can’t get the real thing?)

How does that even work?

(Runic tech. They link up to a simulacrum in a virtual space and move it around. All sorts of simulations get run with those, up to and including deathmatches. And if their simulacrum gets destroyed, the machine just generates a new one and relinks them to that one.)

Seems like a waste of time.

(Don’t knock it ‘til you try it. Any progress?)

Nope, Not even sure what I’m supposed to see.

She sighs. (Here, look at the cat, and really focus on it. Getting the pattern? Focus enough of your will on something, and if you can unlock a thing, you will. It’s really not complicated, your System spoonfeeds you everything at first.)

I may as well listen to her, so I lower myself to the floor and watch the cat continue to growl, hiss, and spit. At first he just looks like a gray furry blob, with a handful of sharp points in strategic places, but after a moment of focusing, I notice he exhibits a faint glow, almost like he’s in a small cloud of phosphorescent particles. They seem to drift and swirl with his motion, but they always stay in his vicinity.

[Available Skill: Mana Sight used for the first time!]

[Mana Sight added to Skills!]

(Ok, that’s the first step. Now turn it off.)

Turn it off? How do I-oh, it turned off.

And the next thing I know, the world around me sharpens into a wash of colors and edges, with a clarity I haven’t seen before.

[Available Skill: Mortal Sight used for the first time!]

[Mortal Sight added to Skills!]

Wait, basic vision is a skill!?

(Yeah. You’ve been using Mana Sight since you woke up, apparently.)

Then why didn’t I already have the skill?

(Yeah about that. It doesn't count if you’re using skills subconsciously.)

That seems needlessly picky.

(It is. Now keep going.)

***

I keep tediously looking at different things around the small apartment for what must have been a few hours, but I at least have yet another new skill, Spectral Sight, to add to the list. It’s just as blurry as Mana Sight, but it highlights different things like sources of light and heat instead of mana. Not really sure how I’m going to use it, but I guess I’ll find out later.

(Hey.)

What?

(Look over here. See this bag?)

Yeah, I see it. Picture of a cat on it, doesn’t look anything like the orange one.

(That... doesn’t matter. Here, pick it up.)

I furrow my nonexistent brow, but I’ll humor her. I manifest a tentacle and wrap it around the bag, then lift it a couple feet into the air.

(Ok now uncurl the top part. See what I’m trying to do?) she says as her hands repeatedly clip through the bag in my grasp.

I follow her lead, and after a couple more steps, I’m holding a bag of some kind of sediment with the top open wide. I absentmindedly smell it.

(Smells like old preserved meat.)

[Available Skill: Mortal Scent used for the first time!]

[Mortal Scent added to Skills!]

Wait, seriously!? Is everything a skill?

(Yes, now focus. See this dish, the one without water in it?)

Yeah, I see the dish.

(Now take the bag. Are you following me?)

Yes, I understand. Take the bag, and?

(Now, I want you to pour some of the stuff in the bag in the dish. Not a lot, just a little. Like, maybe up to here?) She indicates a spot in the bowl by clipping a finger through the edge. I can’t think of a reason not to, so I do what she asks.

(And now we wait.)

And wait we did.

After a half hour or so of waiting in the opposite corner of the room from the dishes, and plenty of Nyx scolding me for being impatient, something finally happens! From underneath the sofa, a cautious ball of orange fluff slinks slowly along the wall, looking between me and the dishes. It turns its body around so it can feed without losing line of sight and begins crunching through its meal, all while growling quietly.

(We have a cat,) she whispers.

We don’t have a cat. It’s not even ours, I ate its owner! You don’t even know what its name is!

(I said. WE. HAVE. A. CAT. And his name is Philip, it’s on his collar.)

Oh. Huh.