The faces looked down on Jon like a murder of crows. Their dark expression twitches constantly between smiles and frowns. It seems they were arguing with each other unintelligible sound. 

Just looking at the grotesque faces sent shivers down his spine. Jon definitely did not dare to summon them too much, but only when he was stuck in a blockage of some sort. 

Down in the cold chilling abandoned prison, locked inside a foul-smelling cell. There were no prison bars but instead, he was inside a squared room with nothing but a flickering light and a large door with a small windowless window for delivery of his nasty sour meals. Furthermore, he didn't even have clothes to cover up or keep warm, there were only a thin old sheet and a teddy bear.

He hugged the small uncanny bear while he was near paralysed when spectating the ghoulish spectators. This is what he must bare through when he needs something else to make the decision for him.

After a period of brief silence, each the of the faces whispered their answer without hesitation before smiling sadistically.

This moment always gave Jon goosebumps as the disappeared hazing into specks of air like drifting sand while as they came to a decision.

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"A"

"C"

"C"

"..."

Jon listened to them without ever blinking, this time, there were around ten votes, but there was one clear winner. 

"I choose ability C then..."

B had the lowest amount of votes, while A and C were the only competitors running. Ultimately it was C that came out victoriously.

"You have chosen C, this is the Mage Route, are you sure you want to pick this ability?"

Yes/No?

The mage route? So the claws must be the combat route, and regeneration must be the defensive...

"Yes I am sure"

Congratulations, please check your new status screen.

Human: Jon Jovhoski / Age: 23 / Male

Class: Sloth Lvl 1

Energia: [12/12]

Abilities

Good Night: Lvl 1 [Cost 1 Energia]

[ -  Shoot a manifestational pulse towards a target which does magical damage and offers the target a small chance to sleep]

'But what are the exact chances of making a target sleep? Can't you at least tell me that?'

Suddenly, a bone-chilling breath of winters air entered the gap from the meal delivery hole. Jon could barely see someone on the other side of the door.

He didn't dare to move, the air went so frosty that his lips turned blue and his sweat frozen. He found it really hard to breathe and he tried to hide his presence to the best of his ability.

But for some reason, he regretted not choosing option B. If he could just sleep, then he could survive through this bitter moment. 

Suddenly, he heard a loud scream.