The man he met was a full human. His Adonis features gave him a charismatic charm, and the light brown hair and dark brown eyes gave little away behind those rectangular spectacles. Even his gentle smile was comforting. For all intents and purposes, this man looked to be a kind, and trustworthy stranger. If not for Agis, he would never have known that the fair-skinned, British accented man was the head of a shady organization that will ultimately decide his fate in the next few days. 

"You consented to the king, then?" Frederick Cunningham asked, his lips curling up into a small smile.

It had been a day since he was explained the unclear experimental treatment he would have to go under. When Jor asked for further explanation, the king sent him the man responsible for all of it. 

"Only preliminary tests?" Jor shifted slightly. The high-backed chair was comfortable, but the conversation was much less so. The garden they were inside was leveled on one of the larger branches above, on another tree. The spectacular panoramic view of the lake below was breathtaking. There were couples and families on little boats, enjoying their summer afternoon. 

Frederick lifted the small china cup to his lips for a sip of his tea. He then gently placed the cup back onto the saucer. "Of course. I would like to see first the screening results, before the surgery to be even considered. Even an optimal body would not survive, should your body reject the procedure."

"And if I passed?" 

"Then, with your consent, of course, we'll proceed with the surgery," He said with such a gentle smile, he couldn't help but liking him. He was polite, honest, and did not look at all shady. Which brought to question, what was he hiding behind that facade? 

"What will the... surgery do to me?" No one had quite explained that particular bit. 

Frederick bent to take out a small file from within his satchel. When he placed it in front of him, he said, "I suppose the king or Hagan did not explain to you."

The red file was plain, but when he flipped it open, he was startled to see the title printed in a thick bold crispy font: Sub-Class. 

"Subclass?" Jor asked, puzzled. 

"Indeed," He said. "The subclass is a rare function, so rare that one in a hundred thousand is capable of actually achieving it, either through luck, genetics, or fate. We are hoping to change that. Our sole goal is to artificially inject the subclass feature of a respective subclass within you. If successful, the treatment will be more common for the newer generation of classes in the future,"

Aside from how ambitious that sounded, Jor asked, "Are subclasses so important to have?"

Frederick chuckled. Jor detected no hint of mocking. "The achievement of attaining duality of classes imprinted upon your very spirit garners the attention of the king himself. Imagine the potential? A Warrior with the mightest of arms and powers of a Hunter class at your disposal would make for a valuable soldier. A high enough level would be nearly an unstoppable war machine in the field of battle. Those two classes I listed, consider every man and woman with both their main class and subclass, whatever they may be, bolstered the defenses of our kingdom?"

Jor imagined it. The defenses of their floor would never be brought to question again. "Is that what you want to do to me? Somehow get me a subclass?" 

"Yes, very much so," He said. "The king is wary of the attention Lord Ashton brought upon yourself and has taken steps to ensure your safety is paramount, due to your connection with the preserver." 

Jor turned back to the cover page. "And protecting me is expensive. I'm guessing Charlie has a lot of enemies? I didn't realize people here hated him,"

"Oh, not here, fortunately. There are kingdoms of dubious nature on the other floors. They have had a run in with our preserver," Frederick smiled. Jor saw the first hint of a genuine smile from this entire conversation, if not a little bloodthirsty. "Those foolish enough to risk the wrath of Lord Ashton are fools. They deserve nothing but my contempt for doing so." 

Jor wanted so very badly to ask the most obvious question. There were other kingdoms, which no one mentioned, which would have been a great start. Were they human? Non-human? So many questions, though he knew now that it was not the time nor the place. Agis was still here, sitting four tables away nibbling on a buttered croissant and sipping coffee. After this, he had a lot of questions he wanted answers to. 

"What are the chances, though? To get a subclass if I go through with this?" 

"Not an impossibility, of course. Just highly improbable," The British man said, for what else could he be? "You must understand, however. If you go through with this, the possibility of your death will be quite high. Without your signed consent on proper documents to protect me, and my employees, as well as the organization from any illegal or criminal concerns, I will not proceed."

More importantly, he wanted protection from Charlie, which he didn't say. Which was understandable. Charlie was one scary hobo. Aside from his magic sword that knows magic, the capabilities of Charlie was unknown to him. 

"From what I was told, it would only be possible to get a subclass if one reached level ten," Jor looked back at the man in confusion. "I'm only level two. I haven't even reached level five for my main class."

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"Indeed," Frederick replied with a nod. "Which would have been a complication, but one we're hoping to forgo such trivialities with swift urgency via the procedure," Wait, what? Seeing the startled expression on his face, the head of SR&ED continued. "Ah, so you understand. What we're hoping to achieve, is to forcefully bring out the potential of both your class and subclass by stimulating your spirit connected to the system."

Jor leaned back against the chair, his brows furrowed. "So, you want to basically cheat the system. I'm guessing the Architects are involved?"

Frederick smiled. "Of course. They have been working tirelessly for the past decades to achieve what we're about to do. If we succeed, it could change our very future."

"This... system, I'm assuming comes from the dungeon?" At the man's slight nod, Jor continued. "Wouldn't the dungeon not like being cheated out of something? Unless its just a mass of tumor that just keeps growing, it has to be sentient, right? Something this big...,"

"Oh yes, it is very much a sentient being. It is a god unto itself," Frederick replied. "And yet, despite its grand powers and its ability to adapt and create, it is not a very intelligent one, either. It reacts on instincts, and though it does stamp out some of our more egregious attempts at altering its system, it does so with extreme prejudice."

"So, you needed to be a bit more subtle...," Jor finished with a sigh. 

"Does that mean you consent?" He asked once more.

Jor wanted a lot of things. His home, his life, his family and friends. Yet, he was trapped in a world that doesn't stop growing, filled with monsters of all kinds that would love nothing more than to kill you. Then, there was a potential enemy for a god, and a phoenix embedded inside him. Would the procedure affect his connection to the Firebird? He didn't know, but there was one way to find out.

Furthermore, he was weak. He wanted the power to protect himself. And here, power was everything. They were the tool he needed to not only survive but thrive in an environment as dangerous as this.

Jor hesitated. "Would I be able to choose my subclass?" 

Frederick smiled. "I have heard of your goal of wanting to be a warrior. While it is commendable to choose one of the classics, please do make an attempt at choosing one of the more exotic ones? Something that would complement your main class, and your survivability for your future endeavors? Should you survive, it would be a waste to see that much growth go to waste."

Jor frowned. "What class do you have?" 

"I'm just a regular human, I'm afraid," He answered with a chuckle. "Well, I have majored in sorcery and specialized in the arcane arts. But no, I have no class to speak of,"

"I... oh," Jor almost forgot that the majority of the population were classless. "So, what's the difference between Wizards and Sorcerers and their classless counterparts?" 

"The same difference between a normal warrior and a classed Warrior. Their ability and growth far exceed those without. The arcane class allows them to unravel the secrets of magic with a far speedier pace, outstripping non-classers that have studied for decades to achieving even one-tenth of what the classed individuals are capable of achieving."  

He could taste the hint of bitterness in the man's voice. Jor wasn't blind to the slight jealousy. He even understood it. Yet, the ability to use magic without a class not only surprised him, but it also presented him with an opportunity he had been looking for since the subject of the classes came up the day he met the king. 

He thought back to the healer that had him checked up that day. He assumed Silanna and those healers he had met had classes of their own. Now, he wasn't so sure. Again, he had to ask Agis.

It was only a theory, but one that he hoped would work. Especially since he had read up on some of the subjects the academies were capable of teaching to those with classes. Intricacies of Mana Manipulation, The Art of Runes, Conjuration, Druidism, Summoning and so much more. Yet, it wasn't as if the thought of choosing a magic class wouldn't allow him to learn other branches of magic unrelated to it. Indeed, it might even help him give him a field of advantage in the future.

Yet, the more Jor thought about his theory, the more he came to like the idea. 

"You seem relieved. Yet, surprised at the prospect," He leaned forward, his cool eyes intent upon his own. "Many men and women with classes usually look down upon those without one. Yet, you seem indifferent. May I ask why?"

Jor shrugged, then opted to look upon his own cup of tea. It had gone cold. "What's important than survival? Learning magic is a good opportunity." It was a nonanswer, but it seemed to satisfy the man nonetheless. 

Frederick seemed surprised. "Ah, an inspired student of the arcane arts. Yes, it is a good mix of both warrior and magic. If you can choose a type of class that can most compliment you, I have my full confidence you will do well in the future."

Jor nodded with a sad smile. Magic. He grew up watching Disney movies and reading Harry Potter. Magic was prominent in everything. It wasn't just the power of magic, but the ingrained beauty of the natural world and concepts that which was magical. It was divinity and dreams personified, hooked into his dreams and subconsciousness as a child, forever turning his own perception of what is a reality, and what is imagination. 

He was never religious, didn't even believed in magic. He had to grow out of that. It wasn't something he thought about. His parents were, though. They brought him to temples and churches as a child, to somehow connect to the gods of his ancestors, from both his parents' sides. Jor felt indifferent, cold to the carings of the arms of the celestials. It wasn't for the lack of trying, either. 

He just didn't care. 

Then, his life turned upside down. Everything went wrong when he fell into a pit. The undead was real, elves and lion men and other races resembling beasts and humans were real. It was a little too much of everything to dump on someone who hadn't truly experienced the world. Still, if gods were real, they were either not as omnipotent as they were believed them to be, or it was out of their control. The irony of ironies, Jor thought.

If this was some sort of punishment from a higher being? Well, he never really believed it to begin with. It felt narcissistic to assume you were somehow important to an eternal concept of creation, more than other mortal beings. Even if Jor was nothing more than a microcosm to an uncaring dungeon he seemed to have landed upon, all he could do was survive. 

And survive. 

"Yes. I consent."