“Though what?” Alden asked. The looming presence of the Outer God seemed to press in around them, which also added to the almost palpable weight in the air.

It was mana, obviously.

Theodore hesitated, his brow furrowing as he considered how to explain. The wind whipped around them as he glanced between his companions, weighing his words carefully.

“Well,” he began, his tone measured and cautious, “I’ve got a skill. But I can’t use it.”

Ezekiel’s eyebrows shot up, his weathered face creasing in confusion. The bishop shared a quick look with Alden before turning back to Theodore. “What do you mean you can’t use it?” he asked, unable to keep the bewilderment from his voice.

Theodore shook his head. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides as he struggled to articulate the strange predicament he’d found himself in. “I just can’t, for some reason,” he said, the words coming out in a rush. “It’s there, I can feel it, but it’s like... it’s out of reach somehow. I got it from my Constellation.”

He paused, his gaze drifting to the writhing mass of darkness that was the Outer God. “But if I could use it, I’d be able to sever her from this vessel.”

The implications of his words made everyone present fall into their thoughts. Yes, even the Goddess. Alden and Ezekiel exchanged glances.

“That’s good,” Ezekiel said finally, breaking the silence. His tone was urgent, almost commanding. “Get to work then.”

Theodore let out a short, humorless chuckle.

“Yeah, about that,” he said, running a hand through his wind-tousled hair. “How do I use it? Did you guys not hear what I said?”

“You don’t know how to use your own skill?” Alden asked.

Theodore shrugged. “It’s... complicated,” he said.

Ezekiel pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes for a moment as if praying for patience. When he opened them again, his gaze was intense, focused. “Theodore,” he said, his voice low and measured, “we need more information. What exactly is this skill? How did you discover it? When was the last time you were able to use it? If you can’t use it, how do you know it’ll be able to sever this wretched outer from the vessel?”

Theodore opened his mouth to respond, then closed it again. He furrowed his brow, clearly struggling to find the right words to describe his ability.

More specifically, should he even tell them about it? He didn’t want to.

“I... I’m not entirely sure,” he decided to lie. “It’s like a presence in the back of my mind. I know it’s there, I can feel its potential, but every time I try to grasp it, it slips away.”

“Could it be tied to a specific emotion?” Alden mused aloud. “Or perhaps a particular state of mind?”

Theodore shook his head. “I’ve tried that. Anger, fear, calm, focus... nothing seems to trigger it.”

The three men fell silent, each lost in thought.

Ezekiel broke the silence first. “Perhaps,” he said slowly, “we’re approaching this from the wrong angle. Instead of trying to force the skill to manifest, we should focus on understanding why it’s blocked in the first place.”

Alden nodded, warming to the idea. “Yes, that could work. Theodore, think back. To the times you were able to use it? What were the circumstances?”

Theodore closed his eyes, casting his mind back. His face scrunched in concentration as he sifted through memories, searching for the origin of his mysterious ability. “It was during a battle,” he said finally. “A tough one. With a crystalline creature. And once a mental battle with someoem. I was pushed to my limits, and then suddenly, I felt it. This new power, waiting to be used.”

“And you were able to use it then?” Ezekiel pressed.

Theodore nodded. “Yes, but... it was instinctual. I didn’t consciously activate it. It just... happened.”

The three men fell silent once more.

“So,” Alden said slowly, “we have a skill that manifests in a moment of extreme stress, that you use instinctively but can’t consciously control.” He ran a hand through his hair. “That’s...”

Theodore looked between his companions.

“Right,” he said, squaring his shoulders. “Let’s think this through. There has to be a way to activate it. We just need to figure out how. If it comes down to it, you guys will fight me, and you will push me to the point I have to use it.”

“That’s dumb,” Alden said.

“I know,” Theodore chuckled. He said, and looked down at the soldiers and Jack’s undead fighting the incursion. “I think—”

Stolen novel; please report.

A deafening sound caught his attention. Theodore, Alden, and Ezekiel snapped their heads toward the source of the sound—a lake in the distance, its surface churning violently. Steam rising, it boiled and bubbled.

As they watched, something massive began to emerge from the depths. At first, it appeared to be nothing more than a tangle of writhing tentacles, but as more of the creature revealed itself, its true form became apparent. An octopus, colossal in size, rose from the water. Its flesh was pale grayish color and it was lifeless, bearing the unmistakable pallor of death common to octopi. Big or small.

But death, it seemed, was not the end for this beast.

Violet wisps, more akin to shards of amethyst than mere light, pierced the air around the creature. They moved with purpose, driving themselves into the octopus’s corpse with brutal force. The tentacles twitched and jerked as some sort of energy invaded its form.

A thud sounded, and the octopus collapsed onto the ground just beside the lake, its massive body sending tremors through the earth. For a moment, it lay still—

—Then its eyes snapped open, pupils constricting and head snapping around before locking onto Theodore.

Huh.

Twin orbs of brilliant amethyst gleamed behind its eyes, and the creature began to move. Its tentacles found purchase on the muddy ground, dragging its bulk forward, crashing through trees and everything else alike.

It was heading straight for them.

For Theodore.

Why?

Theodore, Alden, and Ezekiel observed the approaching monstrosity.

“Did the wretched outer do it?” Ezekiel asked curtly, his eyes narrowing as he glanced at the restricted form of the Outer God.

Theodore followed his gaze, assessing the situation quickly. The entity seemed just as surprised by this turn of events as they were. More than that, there was something in its otherworldly countenance that gave Theodore pause.

Fear.

Raw, unmistakable terror.

Whatever had raised this creature from the dead, it wasn’t their captive “goddess.” And that realization made Theodore shiver.

Before he could voice his thoughts, however, a familiar ding sounded in his mind—a notification. Theodore’s eyes unfocused slightly as he turned his attention inward, reading the glowing text that only he could see:

Your Constellation Sunder has issued a [Quest].

Defeat the Creature resurrected by Sunder.

Sunder? His own Constellation had raised this monstrosity? But why? What was Sunder trying to accomplish by pitting him against a reanimated creature?

As if in answer to his unspoken questions, more details about the quest flickered into view:

Reward: The first restriction on the innate ability [Sever] will be lifted.

Suddenly, pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place. The reason he hadn’t been able to use [Sever] easily so far—there were restrictions on its use. And now, faced with this new danger, Sunder was offering him a chance to break free of those limitations.

But why go to such lengths? How long had Sunder been searching for an opportunity like this? And more importantly, why did his Constellation seem so invested in his growth? And why hadn’t he lifted the restriction since the beginning? Why not exactly? Because of the danger, perhaps? Or did Sunder have some other motivations?

Theodore filed away these questions for later. Right now, he had a more pressing concern in the form of a giant, undead octopus lumbering toward them.

A grin spread across his face as adrenaline began to surge through his veins. “You guys think,” he said to Alden and Ezekiel, “I’m going to fight that thing. And also maybe try to figure out how to use my skill.” He would keep referring to it as a skill even though it was an Innate ability. “And gain a level or two along the way.”

Before either of his companions could say anything, Theodore let go of the air. For a moment, nothing happened.

Then, gravity took hold and be plunged toward the fround.

As he plummeted towards the chaos below, he heard Ezekiel shout after him, “Take Seraphina with you!”

Theodore hit the ground running, his impact sending a shockwave through the earth that felled several nearby goblins. He didn’t slow his pace, weaving through, his blade flashing and cutting down any creature foolish enough to get in his way.

As he carved a path toward the reanimated octopus, Theodore caught glimpses of movement in his peripheral vision. A lithe figure was cutting through the horde parallel to him, leaving a trail of bodies in her wake.

Seraphina.

The vampire girl that had the muzzle on her face.

Ezekiel must have some way of contacting her mentally, Theodore mused, impressed by how quickly she had joined the fray. As they both neared their monstrous target, Seraphina altered her course to intercept him.

They fell into step beside each other. No words were needed; a simple nod of acknowledgment passed between them. Seraphina flashed him a toothy grin, the slits in her cheeks widening slightly with the expression.

Why did she have the slits? Was it something unique to vampires? Or was it unique to her?

Regardless, the slits were a bit unnerving to him, but who was he to judge. Shaking off the distraction—now was definitely not the time for such thoughts—Theodore refocused on the task at hand. The undead octopus loomed before them, its amethyst eyes pulsing malevolently.

Theodore couldn’t describe it… but he felt some sort of anticipation. Or was it excitement? He felt a lot at the moment.

Most of all, he was thinking.

Would he be able to unlock the full potential of [Sever]? Would he discover the reason behind Sunder’s mysterious actions?

Only one way to find out.