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Congratulations! You have created a Transformation Trait! You have 9,999,999,999,998 Transformation Slots remaining. Learn or create more Transformation Traits to fill them!
Transformation Traits:
* Kinetic Plexis
* * Current Rank: 0 of 50
* * Current EXP: 0
* * Current Cost per Second: 369 AP
* * BENEFITS
* * * Allows for faster reflexes and larger percentage of muscle use without negative effects to the body. Increases Dex and Str while in use without the normal unbalanced consequences.
* * * Dexterity Increase: +50
* * * Strength Increase: +0.5% of AP as of the activation of this Trait
* * * New additional effects unlocked at Rank 5
* -
* -
* -
* -
* -
…
(9,999,999,998 slots remaining)
Achievements: 59/11,091 - Please speak the name of the Achievement for more details and to claim rewards for gaining that Achievement!
Transformation I
Acquisition: Create or learn 1 or more Transformation Traits.
Reward: +20 Unused Stat Points ]
Ross glared at Everest as he continued to reread the notifications sent to him by the former. Ross, meanwhile, dabbed at his black eye, swollen bottom lip and scarred cheek with something Everest had called a ‘Health Salve’ poured generously over a sanitized rag. The training didn’t take more than three minutes; Ross had tried to keep up with Ruth, but she was too fast and too clearly skilled to properly fight against.
After Everest told him not to hold back and that, rather than get killed by someone in a party with you, you simply get knocked unconscious, Ross had tried to land a sudden haymaker using all of his Absorption Points. He even tried the dexterity trick he’d pulled on boss monsters before this. It was here that he learned those with similar or identical dexterity scores couldn’t use that ability against one another, nor could you use it on an enemy that has significantly higher dexterity than you do.
This was a major part of why the combat led to a swift end.
The other definitive reason was how Ruth had knocked him out with only two hits.
As he sat in wrathful silence next to Ruth, Ross kept his eyes on Everest. At this point, the protege was hesitant to even call his elderly traveling companion his trainer, because it didn’t seem as though the man did anything aside from talk and dole out trials by fire.
“I really don't like you right now.” Ross muttered.
“I know.” Everest mumbled distractedly.
“I-” Ruth began.
“Don’t. Defend him.” Ross spat, not even looking at her.
Ruth looked down, silent once again.
After around fifteen minutes, Everest finally stood. Ross immediately joined him, rigidly standing at attention.
“So it looks like Otectvurce is doing something very much not okay.” Everest muttered.
Ross tilted his head, some of the anger fleeing him.
“You just asked him about-”
“I asked about it all, kid.” Everest said, rubbing a hand down his face.
“He gave me the equivalent of a middle finger. Only actual answers I got out of him were in regards to why he doesn’t update the system.”
Ross sat, eyes locked onto Everest. A bit more of his wrath faded, replaced with attentive curiosity. Everest, taking a breath, matched Ross’s eyes before speaking, a note of thorough irritation evident.
“So, basically,” Everest said, suddenly deflating, “Otectvurce knows the system is on the fritz big-time thanks to your situation. He’s hyper-focused on reorganizing the system right now, though - he called it a ‘mass defrag’, which means new skills and level-ups have a fifty-fifty chance of being slow.” He rubbed his face in exasperation.
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“Slow means anywhere from twenty hours to one hundred and thirteen hours.”
“That’s not a huge problem for us. We’re kind of on a long hike, after all.” Ruth pointed out.
“I don’t think that’s the main issue…” Ross muttered. Ruth looked to him in confusion and curiosity, and Everest turned with a hint of encouragement. After a long moment of hesitation, Ross took a deep breath, then spoke.
“See, with any sort of system that manages numbers like this, poor timing is something you can’t rely on. The more you do while the system is buggy, the more problems it’s gonna have getting back online. With this being a worldwide system, with everyone none the wiser and most likely at least a quarter of the heroes-to-be training…” He turned up to Everest.
“What’s the population of this world that uses the system? Specifically with upgrading stats, utilizing classes and the like?”
“Which would be the whole world? Last I checked, around 83 billion.” Everest sighed.
This caught Ruth’s and Ross’s full attention.
“How can a single planet sustain that many people? How have we not run into any others!?” Ross cried.
“How did I not know this? How do people have enough space to live!?” Ruth exclaimed.
“Gods damn it, kids, calm down!” Everest yelled, throwing his hands up. “There’s a fucking tab for it in your interface!”
After seeing the expectant faces of his trainees, Everest sighed heavily.
“Good lord… okay. So, the world can sustain that many people because matter can be created here. The system makes that possible. The system can do that because gods exist. I don’t know how it works beyond that, so don’t ask. We haven’t run into any others because the world is nearly twice the size of Backwash, and there are instances for dungeons and such here; people can take their party into a pocket dimension that’s an exact replica of an area, but without people trying to steal kills or the like. The planet’s actual population - the citizens born and raised here - is only about 3.7 billion. There’s space for everyone here because their homes are also pocket dimensions, and you didn’t know because you never asked.” The final sentence was rattled out while meeting Ruth’s eyes.
Ruth and Ross met one another’s gaze, and both sighed in tandem.
“I don’t know what I expected.” Ruth said.
“Why am I not surprised?” Ross muttered.
“Good. Back to what you were saying, kid?” Everest urged, looking to Ross.
“Um… Oh, yeah. If there’s eighty billion people using the system, a quarter of that’s twenty billion. Every person throws tons of numbers into the system - I’d assume millions, if not billions or even trillions with each interaction they perform with it - which needs another three sets of zeros slapped on, and you have yourself a major issue.”
Everest nodded, giving Ross a golf clap.
“Good job, kid. The system doesn’t really run on numbers like so many things on Backwash do, but it’s a close enough comparison. What your powers did was basically spit an entire decade’s worth of data into the system over the course of a few minutes.”
Ross froze in place. Ruth turned a concerned gaze on him.
“I’m not much of a math person, but that’s… a lot, right?”
“Yeah, it is. It’s… an insane amount of data.” Ross turned back to Everest, then continued.
“So you’re saying that I basically dumped an entire human mind into the system?”
“The system has effectively infinite memory,” Everest said, “but you put in 31.4 petabytes, kid. More than fifteen people.”
“And it was only expecting one.” Ross muttered, awestruck.
“Bingo.” Everest nodded. “The amount from you has been condensed into a relatively manageable amount - only about two or three times normal - but it’s still a burden on the system. Otectvurce has to literally write you into the system as you exist so it doesn’t crash, and even a god has their limits. It’ll take awhile before he can manually catch the system up, but he said he’s at the three-quarters mark or so.”
“Which means… what, exactly?” Ruth asked.
“It means the more I specifically train, the slower the system goes.” Ross said.
“Which means it’s time to train your body in ways that don’t affect the system.” Everest said.
“How are we going to do that? I thought everything was in the system.” Ross said.
“Not everything.” Everest said, grinning.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Within the next five minutes, a heavy-duty patchwork punching bag hung from a sturdy branch within the safety circle. Everest had etched an improbable number of runes into it using a needle and thread over four of the aforementioned minutes, the last spent securing it in the tree and activating the runes. Everest prepared to throw a punch at the bag, paused, then turned to the pair behind him.
“You may want to stand back a bit, kiddos.” Everest said. Ross did so without hesitation, while Ruth reluctantly retreated a few steps.
Everest flexed his fingers a few times before stretching out his dominant arm, shifting from arm circles to an overhead stretch. Then, he clenched his fist, and a solid gust of wind swept over Ruth and Ross, both of whom were suddenly on high alert. Ross noted through a side-eyed glance that Ruth was grinning widely.
“Watch my form carefully. Ruth, you should still pay attention even though you’ve seen it before.”
Ruth nodded confidently, which made Ross spin on his heels to face her, his eyebrows knitted and mouth slightly agape.
The change in Everest’s posture was swift and fluid, each muscle’s shift defined by another minor shockwave ripping through the clearing. Ross could swear he heard the hum of power lines emitting from Everest as he launched the smoothest punch Ross had ever seen. The bag swung back until it was nearly perpendicular with the branch it hung from, fabric rippling but not tearing in the slightest.
The impact was not without consequence for the pair of proteges, however.
It had created a backblast of air pressure, which sent Ruth skidding back, feet staying firmly on the ground. Ross, on the other hand, was immediately lifted off the ground, then promptly launched backwards, as if a ballista had shot him away from his companions. He rolled against the ground for several dozen feet before slamming into a tree spine-first, knocking the wind out of his lungs.
After the few minutes it took for him to regain his composure and return to the clearing, Ross had nothing but childlike excitement and genuine respect for his mentor. The thought alone of him being able to do that someday was enough to replenish all of his lost willpower. Unfortunately, it also made him lose his logical stride from the previous conversation.
“That was incredible!” Ross cackled, shaking arms gesturing wildly. “I mean, back on Earth, there’s nothing but shows that present such force, and even then this is so much different. It’s actually making me want to be here right now. Like, how long did it take you to get to that level!? Can you hit any harder, and if so, how much harder is it? Are there percentages you can set to minimize power, or is that just a concept from Earth that makes storytelling easier? Is-”
Ross was met with a sandwich shoved into his mouth by Everest, who looked as if he was pushing himself to be irritated.
“Your hunger bar isn’t full yet.” Everest said, face stoic but eyes smiling.
Ross simply nodded, scarfing down the food quickly.
“Seeing you fight always gives me a rush, even if it is just against a punching bag.” Ruth said over the chewing and huffing sounds, smiling broadly. “It gives me something to strive for.”
“That’s the attitude we’ve been working on!” Everest said, ruffling Ruth’s hair. She grinned broadly, pearly whites glinting slightly.
Ross, on the other hand, looked far more subdued as he finished his sandwich.
“Sorry for going off like that…” Ross muttered. Everest raised an eyebrow.
“Whaddya mean, kid?”
“I mean, I’m sorry for nerding out. People hated it back on Earth when I did that, and probably still will when I head back. I know it’s annoying.”
Ruth and Everest exchanged a look.
“Kid, listen. I don’t know what kinda place you think you’re in right now, but you’ll come across some of the weirdest fucks you’ve ever met here. Your excited prattlin’ is hardly cause for apologies.”
“It’s actually kinda impressive.” Ruth said. “I wish I had that kind of skill, but math was never my specialty.”
Ross just shook his head.
“No… No, I don’t want to be that way this time around. I’m sorry again.” Ross then promptly stood up and walked to the punching bag, Everest stepping aside with a look to his protege that the latter couldn’t quite place.
“Show me what you’ve got, kid.” Everest said, patting the side of the makeshift training equipment. Any encouragement in his voice was gone, every trace of excitement fading rapidly. Ross nodded, then pulled his arm back and hit the punching bag. He had expected it to be flung back far, but it didn’t even move. His face scrunched up in confusion and pain before he threw another jab. Yet again, the bag didn’t move at all, and Ross withdrew his hand. Despite having slate gray skin, his hand was throbbing as it turned a dull rose color. He shook it rapidly, hissing through his teeth.
“Well, I can see a few issues.” Ruth said, her own excitement unusually reigned back. Everest simply nodded, then stood next to Ross.
“Like this.” Everest said, bending his knees and spreading his legs out in a boxing stance. He patted his knees, then gestured to his waistline.
“You want your legs to have a decent bend in them, but not too much. Make sure your hips are level.” Ross nodded, eyeing the stance for a moment before trying to replicate it. After a few minutes, he managed to shift himself to Everest’s liking.
“Good enough for now. Stay in that stance whenever you fight.” Everest said. He gestured to the punching bag while stepping back, and Ross nodded. The next punch he threw actually rattled the chain the punching bag was on slightly, but Everest once again stopped him.
“Your punching form is off, too. With your strength score, you should at least be able to make that thing swing a bit.” Once more, Everest stood next to Ross, taking him through the motions of a proper jab. The few karate classes Ross had taken as a kid flashed briefly in his mind, helping him to understand the proper motions.
His next hit, thrown with a turning fist that then rested at his side, shook both the bag and the tree. Everest nodded, then eyed Ross up and down.
“Kid, I know you said your piece on the topic. Here’s mine. It’s a chance to start over in a new world, and I know that might make you wanna ‘fix’ what a few people hated about you before. I can’t - and don’t wanna - control how you go about this second existence of yours, but you gotta know better than to force changes that don’t need to happen.” He patted Ross on the shoulder, almost in a paternal manner.
“You’re cut out for this stuff just the way you are.”
The two stood there for a long moment before Everest straightened up and shuffled away.
“Be sure to do at least fifty reps of those each day. Get the muscle memory down. We’ll be in town sooner than we thought; you have a week left.”
Ross nodded, before turning back to the punching bag. He looked at it, inspecting the half-hearted stitching and faded fabrics constructing the thing, intensely trying to avoid thinking about Everest’s words. He took a deep breath, but hiccuped halfway through. He knew Ruth was looking at him - he could practically feel it - though he refused to acknowledge her.
‘Fifty reps.’ Ross thought. He turned to the punching bag, his mind reeling. He wanted to be better than he was on Earth this time around. Work harder, train harder and do something truly meaningful. Knowing that Everest’s reps usually consisted of fifteen of any given exercise, he readied himself to begin practicing.
But something held him back.
He couldn’t bring himself to begin the training; his body almost seemed to refuse it. A barely noticeable burning sensation began to work its way into his eyes.
‘Come on, Ross. Just hit the punching bag. Hit it at least 750 times. Daylight’s burning, and you need to show Everest you’re worth the time.’
He took a deep breath, which sounded more like a rattling gasp than anything. He cursed to himself, then concentrated on the bag once more.
‘Show them you’re worth the time. That you aren’t weak or feeble, or some bibliophile with no social life. You can at least make one rep, then it’s just one rep at a time.’
Still, he didn’t move. He could feel the phantom of Everest’s hand still lingering on his shoulder. His own father never supported him becoming an electrical engineer, instead demanding some career path that involved a doctorate. His mother didn’t even hope for his future; she’d given up on him a long time ago. If he couldn’t make his own family happy-
Thwump.
His fist slammed into the punching bag, rattling the chain. His eyes had begun to burn, and his lungs heaved.
Thwump.
His knuckles were growing a slightly more vibrant rose color, the pain tingling and stinging, but he had to keep practicing. He’d danced with his emotions enough already; it wasn’t the right time or place to do it, anyways.
He hoped his father could see him now, working hard towards another goal he surely wouldn’t support.
He felt a welling of water beneath his eyes.
Thwump.
‘It’s not going to happen. I won’t let it out, I’ll just-...’
Thwump.
‘I’ll just pound it out of myself. Right into this idiotic sack.’
Thwump. Thwump thwump.
Ross tried to think through the wrenching in his gut, the blurry eyes and the clenched throat. He had two people who were at least trying to teach him how to survive in the world. In this world, at least. His parents were never willing to do that, and his siblings were moved out by the time he could walk or talk.
Thwump thwump thwump.
He felt as if he could get everything cleared out if he could just punch fast and hard enough. The tree holding the bag had begun to shake violently with his growing assault, and he ignored the searing pain in his hands.
‘I can’t let down another person, not when they want to help me.’
Thwumpthwumpthwumpthwumpthwump.
The tears had finally begun to spill from his eyes, an exhale harboring a sob causing him to clench his teeth. Everest could not see him like this. Not Everest, not Ruth, not Art-
‘Just get it out. Out of my system, out of… Out of me. Into the bag. No names, no thinking.’
Thwumpthwumpthwumpthwumpthwump.
He could feel the ‘wall’ that kept him from attacking too quickly, lest his muscles tear themselves apart. The hindrance made his eyes burn more, along with a bubbling in his chest - a pot boiling over, a volcano about to erupt. He was desperate to pick up the pace, to plow through this obstacle with every ounce of physical, mental and emotional force that he could muster.
Still, he could punch no faster.
‘You’ll never achieve anything at this rate.’ Art had said. ‘Not ever.’
Thwumpthwumpthwumpthwumpthwump.
“Ross, maybe you should-” Ruth began, before hearing a small crunching sound coming from Ross’s hands. A miniature fountain of blood spattered across both the firbolg and the punching bag.
Still, Ross attacked.
“Ross, I really think you should stop!” Ruth said. The lack of a response had unnerved her, but the moment she heard further cracking, she pulled him bodily away from the punching bag. Ross whipped around to face Ruth with a look of manic desperation and rage, which faded as soon as it was seen. He took a deep, shaking breath, then looked at his hands. Bones protruded from a few spots, a couple of fingers bent at odd angles. He nearly vomited at the sight, but managed to hold it down with a harsh swallow.
“They, uh… They have healing magic here, right? Not just that slow-working ointment?” Ross asked meekly. Ruth nodded with a small, but genuine, smile.
“They do.”