As I made my way down the hall toward the lobby where we’d entered after leaving the elevator, I spotted Erica stepping out of a room across from mine. She looked noticeably more at ease, carrying herself with a newfound confidence I hadn’t seen in her before. When our eyes met, her grin widened, transforming into one of the most genuine smiles I’d ever seen light up her face. Her baby-blue eyes sparkled under the bright hallway lights, and her dark hair cascaded gracefully over her shoulders. She broke into a light jog toward me, which quickly turned into a full sprint, her smile radiating warmth. Yet, as she moved, everything seemed to slow—her steps felt like they were stretching out, one after another, as if time itself had slowed to a crawl. It was as if the world held its breath, each second stretching impossibly long, the very rotation of the Earth pausing in sync with my heartbeat. I’d heard stories of moments like this, a heightened state where time nearly froze, but only in tales of people facing mortal danger. It was only when the realization hit me that I understood what was happening. Before I could react, a notification flashed in my vision, and in an instant, time froze completely.

You’ve awakened your Bloodmark

Bloodmark of the Temporal Crescent

As I read the notification, I felt my color drain. A bloodmark wasn't something the System handed out of generosity. It was a force beyond even the System's control—something you were born with. These marks were rare and immensely powerful, and each one was unique to its bearer. The bloodmarked are universally feared for their immense potential, and in many parts of the multiverse, those who awaken a bloodmark are often swiftly executed by their faction. That is, of course, unless their awakening remains a secret. Though a bloodmark isn’t especially hard to conceal, most selection cities have security protocols before anyone leaves the building. This includes a specialized scanner capable of detecting far beneath the surface, ensuring no hidden power goes unnoticed. Earth, however, is a unique exception. There are no such precautions; the prevailing approach is to let individuals live freely, as long as they don’t pose a direct threat to the planet. A bloodmark’s symbol could manifest on any part of the body, but nothing in my books and classes suggested it would be painful—certainly not like someone carving it into my skin.

Time sped up again, gradually enough for me to watch the symbol etching itself into my forearm. The pain was excruciating, though I managed to hold back a cry. A shining white crescent moon in the foreground of a night sky entwined with a swirling amber vortex—likely a symbol of time in flux—formed on my skin, vivid and unmistakable. By the time, time reached its usual pace, Erica flew into me, hugging me and smiling.

"That stat gain was..." Erica tightened her grip around me, her eyes gleaming with a fierce intensity. "Invigorating." She looked up, a huge grin plastered on her face. But as her gaze met mine, her smile faded, concern replacing it as she took in the pain etched across my face.

"What's wrong, Jack?" Erica asked, immediately noticing my half-hearted embrace, my right arm awkwardly hovering behind her. She shot me a puzzled look, then her gaze dropped to my forearm. Her eyes widened, and without a word, she shrugged off her jacket and handed it to me. "Cover it. Quickly."

I nodded, pulling the jacket on gratefully. Thankfully, it was actually one of mine that she’d "borrowed" ages ago. Finally, I had it back—though maybe not under the best circumstances. It was only a bit too small, as I’d grown a couple inches since I last wore it, but it’d suffice until we were done in Dawn City.

"We’re heading straight to your parents’ compound. No detours for art supplies, not here," she said firmly, glancing around. "We don’t want a Blessed to report this to their god."

"Understood." I knew better than to question her when she got serious—she was leagues ahead of me in that department. The average intelligence stat in our generation was about eleven; mine might have been above that, but Erica was a genuine genius with her score of twenty. Just as I was known as a prodigy in agility, she held that same reputation for intelligence.

She guided me into the elevator, gripping my right hand tightly. To conceal my arm, she pressed her elbow against the inside of mine, inching closer to me as if to shield it from view. I couldn’t help but wish it had happened under less serious circumstances, but I wasn’t about to complain.

"We'll be fine, Erica. It's not exactly hard to conceal. Just thank the gods it's not on my forehead like that dude from a few years back. And even he's doing okay now." I chuckled softly, attempting to lighten the mood with a bit of humor.

“Shut up.” Erica said sternly.

I simply nodded, sitting quietly as I waited for the elevator's chime to signal our arrival on the lobby floor. Erica was fully focused, her determination clear. Once she'd assessed the risk, there was no room for hesitation—she wouldn’t take any chances. It was a comforting thought, knowing just how much she cared. It made the weight of everything feel a little lighter.

The elevator’s ding jolted me out of my thoughts. Erica didn’t pull me out of the elevator, but she gently guided me, staying close. She even leaned her head against me, playing into the young couple image to make sure no one paid too much attention. We walked right out of the Guide Hall without drawing any attention or even a second glance. The crowd was still thick, but the walk back felt like it would be smoother now. We waded through the crowd slowly but surely, things felt easier with the ‘small’ stat gain I’d gained from receiving my class. I started thinking more about my stats allocation.

Many factions recommended allocating free stat points to Vitality if you planned on going solo for a while. Erica and I, though, had different plans. We were set on adding a third to our team, at least for a bit. One of our acquaintances had recently selected the Juggernaut class, and we were eager to invite him along for our first few dungeon delves and hunts—at least until we each unlocked our next class specific skill. Juggernauts were pushed down the road of being someone who could take a lot of hits compared to all of the other basic classes, it would free Erica and I up to lean into our styles. Erica had already expressed interest in developing a style that blended utility with combat, following in her mother's footsteps as a mobility-focused mage. Her goal was to zip in and out of fights, peppering opponents with medium-range spells while boosting her allies with defensive and offensive buffs. As for me, I wasn’t entirely sure what I wanted yet. The most obvious path was to go all-in on mobility—dodging every attack that came my way. That would mean taking up an unarmed style or dual-wielding light swords. Another option was to pursue the popular blademage path, blending melee and magic. As a blademage, I could buff myself or my weapons while maintaining medium-range attack options. That seemed just absolutely boring. I’d seen blademages come and go in Sylvanel, blending into the crowd with ease. They weren’t the pinnacle of blade mastery, nor were they close to achieving the prowess of a true spellslinger. For someone chasing the peak of power, it was a path lacking in both refinement and specialization. My bloodmark presents a rare opportunity. If it indeed grants me powers tied to the moon and time, I could either lean fully into that path or forge something entirely new and unique from it.

As we approached the teleportation pad, my mind began to wander, imagining the possibilities my bloodmark could unlock. I could become a Chronoshade, like my distant cousin. He wields time itself in brief bursts, moving faster than the eye can track, allowing him to rewind or accelerate his actions. With this power, he strikes multiple times in the blink of an eye or effortlessly dodges incoming attacks. He’s a nightmare for those with low mobility or mages who’ve neglected their perception, which, unfortunately, is most of them. Or I could lean into the moon aspect, becoming far stronger at night or exceptionally skilled in stealth. I’d heard of someone who left Earth early to join the Order of Nocturnis—he was almost completely useless during the day, but as the moon’s phases progressed, his power grew exponentially. Under a full moon, he was nearly unbeatable unless someone was an entire rank above him. That was when he’d hit Rank E. By now, he was probably at the end of Rank D or just entering Rank C. The highest grade we had in our universe is Rank B. We had a couple of those on Earth, making us comfortably the most powerful planet in Universe #49. Currently, the only two people who’d reached this rank on Earth were my father and the lord of Dawn City.

Erica had guided me to the center of the pad while I was lost in thought, contemplating the endless possibilities my bloodmark had just unlocked. At first, I had been determined to focus on something related to ink or paint, using it to manifest creations that could fight for me, seamlessly blending my craft into my class. But now, the idea of drawing seemed like a distant memory, overshadowed by the new potential my bloodmark had revealed. The pad whirred, before I could even prepare my stomach, and as I blinked out of my trance, we were back in Sylvanel.

“I’ve been trying to get your attention since we bumped into that merchant,” Erica said, poking me and finally letting go of my arm.

“What merchant?” I asked, still confused.

“Wow. What had you so zoned out that you didn’t notice how many people we just ran into?” Erica shook her head.

“The endless paths this unlocks for me,” I said, pointing to my arm. I wasn’t concerned about anyone noticing my bloodmark in Sylvanel—there was no one around. The streets were empty, the dark of night having fully settled in. Back in Dawn City, it had still been morning, but here, night had taken its rightful place.

“What’s the mark called?” Erica finally asked.

“Bloodmark of the Temporal Crescent,” I replied, trying to sound as casual as possible.

“Time and the moon?” Erica's eyes gleamed with a devious grin. “That’s dangerous. You could become the multiverse's greatest assassin, or create an entirely new affinity. We need to hit the library. You’ve just unlocked something that could make it nearly impossible for you not to attune with the two rarest affinities in the multiverse—Lunar and Time. And don’t forget, combining them could lead to something completely unique, something never seen before. There has to be—”

I raised my hand, signaling her to stop before she got carried away. “Plenty of time to think about all of that later. We need to get back to the estate before we do anything else, so I can properly hide this.” I gestured to the glowing white crescent moon that was faintly visible through the fabric of my jacket.

“Right…” Erica’s eyes glazed over as she got lost in her own thoughts, and I quietly led her down the street toward my home. When we reached the gate, I let Erica walk ahead of me, lost in her own thoughts as she muttered softly to herself, occasionally nodding in agreement with her musings. My parents were standing on their balcony, waving down at us. Erica didn’t notice, but I gave a small wave and smiled, watching as my mom quickly turned and almost ran toward the doors, likely to greet us at the entrance. I could only assume she’d seen the faint glow from underneath my jacket.

Before I could even reach for the door handle, my mother swung it open, eyes wide with excitement as she grabbed my arm and tugged the sleeve up.

“You have a bloodmark!” she exclaimed, practically beaming. It was the exact opposite of the reaction I’d expected. My mother bombarded me with questions, one right after another. “What’s it called? How did it awaken? Did anyone see it? Did it hurt? Are you okay?” Her excitement gradually shifted to concern by the time she finished.

“I’m fine, it hurt a bit at first, but not too bad,” I said, glancing at the symbol on my forearm. “It’s called the Bloodmark of the Temporal Crescent.” I conveniently skipped over her question about how it awakened. Bloodmarks emerge when a surge of intense emotion strikes, and while Erica likely assumed it activated during selection, the truth was—it awakened the moment I saw her.

Erica answered one of my mother’s questions for me, “I was the only one who saw it. It was too bright outside for anyone else to notice it glowing through the jacket.” Then, she turned to me, giving me a questioning look. “So, Jackson, how did it awaken?” she asked, noticing how I’d skipped over the question.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“Oh. Uh…” I stammered, suddenly caught off guard. My mind scrambled for an answer, but words seemed to evade me. I caved and decided to tell the truth. It wasn’t like I was confessing anything monumental—just that I cared about her, the same way I always had. “When I saw you, time just... slowed down,” I said, feeling my cheeks heat up. “Eventually, it froze completely, and the mark carved itself into my arm.”

Erica’s cheeks flushed a deep red, and she looked away, clearly flustered. It was obvious she’d taken my words as a confession, and I could almost feel the shift in the air between us.

Thankfully, my dad saved me. “A bloodmark is awesome bud!” he let out a loud chuckle, “I wish I’d gotten one, cept’ maybe not, Sylvanus’ would’ve locked me on his planet until I was Rank S. Ah yeah, you should probably wrap that up with a bandage or two and wear long sleeves for a while.” He pointed out.

I nodded, feeling a sense of validation. “That was the plan. Anyways, Erica went with Sorcerer, and I chose Striker.”

My mother’s expression softened slightly but her tone became more refined and serious. “Good choices, for both of you. Your stats align well with those paths—you’ll find greater success that way.”

My father nodded, agreeing with her, as usual. “Are you guys stickin’ together for a while?” He looked toward Erica for the answer.

Erica managed a quiet, “Yes,” glancing down at the floor, clearly still a bit flustered.

“Good, again. I had your things moved from your dormitory Erica to one of the guest bedrooms. I hope that’s okay, since this counts as your graduation.” My father looked at her, waiting for approval, only to receive a nod. “Alright, the room furthest from Jack’s room is yours. You should know where that is, go ahead and get some rest. Jack, stick behind for a sec.”

Oh god… Here it comes. The talk. And sure enough, I got the full version. My mom even chimed in, telling me not to break Erica’s heart. They were acting like we were already in some kind of relationship.

“You basically are,” my dad said, after I voiced my concerns, completely unfazed.

“Huh?” I was puzzled at that.

“You told her your bloodmark awakened when you saw her, and she probably assumed it happened in the selection room. Then, right after you told her she’d assumed wrong, she said you were sticking together,” my dad bellowed out a laugh. “Truly clueless.”

My mother just gave me an amused smile.

“Alright, yeah… I get it,” I muttered, heading up the stairs toward my room. Their teasing quieted down as I reached the halfway point, and I promptly tuned out whatever they were saying next. They never brought up anything about staying away from Erica’s room, or vice versa. I suppose that was a relief—they didn’t make it awkward. At least, not yet. I only thought that because, as I was heading up the stairs, I caught a glimpse of Erica’s silhouette, lingering by the upstairs railing, probably listening to our loud conversation. I decided to act like I hadn’t seen her, and retired to my room.

The day had been eventful, and I was ready to check out—grab my sketchbook, unwind, and eventually drift off to bed. Usually, my nights followed the same routine: drawing for an hour or two, showering, then studying until my eyes grew heavy. But tonight, I’d gotten a knock at my bedroom door.

“Come in,” I called, expecting one of our servants or maybe my parents. My eyes widened as Erica quietly stepped inside, barely opening the door before shutting it softly behind her. She stood there for a moment, quietly, holding her wrist in her other hand as if unsure of what to do next. I patted the spot next to me on the bed, gesturing for her to sit.

“What’s up?” I asked, glancing at her with a raised eyebrow.

“Jack, I—” She stuttered for a moment, before rolling her eyes and muttering, “Ah, screw it.” She turned toward me and kissed me. It was unexpected, yet somehow, everything about it felt right. I sat there in shock for a brief moment, my mind racing, before I found myself kissing her back, the world around us fading into the background. She pulled away after a few more seconds, her smile soft and genuine, yet there were tears glistening in her eyes. She looked at me as if searching for a reaction, her breath shallow as if the moment had left her equally speechless.

“What’s wrong?” My heart started to quicken, thinking there was something bothering her.

She wiped her eyes quickly, as if embarrassed by the tears. "Nothing, it's just... I’ve wanted to do that for a while now." She gave a shaky laugh, her voice soft and full of vulnerability. "I guess I was just nervous before, but now I’m just happy."

I smiled at her, pulling her into a familiar hug. She leaned into the hug, her body relaxing against mine. For a moment, there was just the quiet sound of our breaths and the warmth of each other's presence. It was a comfort, like everything that had been complicated up until now suddenly fell into place. At some point during the night, our conversation shifted to random, insignificant things—just small talk, really—but it didn’t matter. We were enjoying each other’s company. Hours passed, and eventually, she drifted off to sleep in my bed, the book still open in her lap, murmuring softly in her sleep while I continued to sketch.

I quietly slipped out of my room, intending to head to the shower, when a sudden thump against me made me pause. My mom’s head landed on my shoulder with a soft thud.

“Mother,” I hissed under my breath, trying not to laugh.

She scratched the back of her head, clearly embarrassed to have been caught eavesdropping. “What? I was just checking in to see if you two were... behaving.”

“Behaving?” I repeated, trying to keep my tone as serious as possible, chuckling slightly. “You’re the one sneaking around.”

She shrugged, unable to hide the mischievous glint in her eye. “I wasn’t sneaking,” she insisted. “I was just checking in.”

“Of course mom.” I sighed, shaking my head with a smile, walking toward the bathroom. I had a bathroom in my room, but wanted to make sure the running water wouldn’t wake Erica.

I could hear my mom giggling to herself as she walked back down the stairs, toward the kitchen, where I could hear my dad chatting up the chef while he made dinner. I probably should wake Erica for dinner.

After my shower, I returned to my room and gently shook Erica awake, still wearing nothing but my towel. "Dinner."

"I could get used to that," Erica said with a mischievous grin, eyeing me up and down as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

"Oh, shut it," I replied playfully, stepping into my closet and closing the door behind me. I could hear her stretch loudly and the soft shuffle of her feet as she made her way toward the door.

I joined them for dinner, greeting and thanking the chef for the meal. With my hair still damp, I sat down beside Erica. We ate quietly for a bit before my father decided to spark some conversation.

“So, do you two still plan on inviting the big guy along?” he asked.

I stuffed a roll into my mouth, mumbling, “The juggernaut? Yeah.”

Erica promptly smacked my shoulder, scolding me for talking with my mouth full. “Chris is struggling to find a group that needs someone who can take hits,” she explained. “Juggernaut seems to be everyone’s go-to these days.”

My dad shook his head. “Back when we went through the tutorials, Warrior and Sorcerer were by far the most popular choices,” he said, gesturing toward my mother and himself. “It’s funny—kids growing up surrounded by all the chaos of the multiverse seem to take fewer risks these days.”

“Picking Juggernaut is more of a risk in my opinion. Shifting your archetype when you pick it is tougher than usual.” Erica added, getting nods from both my mother and father.

We chatted a bit more about which class offered the most flexibility. My dad argued, somewhat biasedly, that Warrior was the best choice; my mom and Erica both vouched for Sorcerer. I, however, sided with Mender. Despite its humble, pure support beginnings, a few early Menders on post-integration Earth had become absolute powerhouses, boasting unreal survivability, self-healing, and even impressive damage potential. For a Sorcerer, acquiring defensive or healing skills required significant time and effort, whereas obtaining damage-dealing skills was relatively straightforward for most classes. Healer classes that evolved from Sorcerer tended to be more powerful, mainly because Intelligence played a key role in determining the effectiveness of their healing abilities. Erica expressed her interest in gaining a few healing skills to support me. After chatting for a bit longer, my parents called it a night, and directed us to the armory and encouraged us to pick the best armor we could wear for our level. We had an impressive selection, and although Erica’s parents had sent her to Sylvanel with a range of basic armor sets suited to any class or profession she might choose, our armory offered her far better options.

Erica quickly gathered everything she needed. She picked up a grimoire that enhanced her damage when using offensive spells, a robe that boosted her intelligence by five, and a spatial storage ring with a capacity of two hundred pounds. She also found another ring that increased her intelligence, wisdom, and willpower by two each. But the pair of boots she found caught my eye—they granted three agility and the ability to use Veilstep every ten minutes. The skill allowed her to teleport into the shadow of anything, likely helping her put distance between herself and her enemies. I had my eye on those boots for myself, intending to lean into an assassin-style build where I could use the ability to catch opponents off guard. It was a shame there wasn't a way to perfectly duplicate armor. We could find an armorer to craft me a pair, but engraving a skill into the armor would be incredibly expensive. I wasn't about to drain our budget for something like that.

Although I was disappointed not to get the boots, I was fortunate with what I did find. I came across two swords—extremely rare weapons. Set bonuses on weapons couldn't be crafted by anyone; only the System had the ability to bestow such enhancements. Even Atraxis, the Forgegod, hadn't acquired the knowledge to forge weapons like these. When I made use of my new skill Identify I was in awe that my parents had just left these in the armory. I assumed my father had used them during his time in the tutorial.

Veilbreaker (Epic) - One of two blades that create a set. A slender blackened blade with a jagged edge coated in the shadow affinity. The coating of the shadow affinity makes it harder for your opponents to regenerate resources. System Created. …

+5 Agility, +2 Perception

Veiled Mind Set Bonus 1/2 : Synergized Strikes - When landing a physical strike, your next magical skill is empowered.

Mindpiercer (Epic) - One of two blades that create a set. A finely crafted sword that hums with an ancient arcane affinity. It is lightweight but perfectly balanced, channeling your intelligence to increase its cutting power, especially against the mind and spirit. System Created. …

+5 Intelligence, +2 Perception

Veiled Mind Set Bonus 2/2 : Synergized Strikes - When landing a magical attack, your next physical strike is empowered.

What was intriguing, though, was how the System had concealed the rest of the descriptions for both swords. When I tried to poke at the “…” icon, a quick sharp pain shot behind my eye, making it clear that this knowledge wasn’t meant for me—at least not yet.

Before I could get frustrated, I moved on to the rest of my gear. A black cloak, nothing too special, that boosted my perception by one point. A pair of black boots granted three agility, and to round it off, a matching set of trousers and a tunic, each providing two agility. I also grabbed a spatial ring for myself, along with a sleek necklace that didn’t offer any stats but promised to make me a bit more inconspicuous. With everything on, I looked like the definition of edgy. Dressed in all black, with a cloak that concealed the weapons fastened to my back. Erica couldn’t help but comment.

“You look insane.” Erica chuckled.

I rolled my eyes at her, giving her a teasing, judgmental look. The bright colors she wore made her an easy target—way more than usual. I’d have to ask my mom in the morning to dye her robes darker. We kept searching, looking for any other essentials we might need. We picked up a couple of simple leather backpacks to carry survival basics: a knife for dressing animals, flint and steel, and a canteen. Erica also snagged a tent and the only sleeping bag she could find. The night passed quietly; we settled on the couch, each absorbed in our usual activities—me sketching, her reading—before heading to our rooms. I slept in a bit, with no school obligations since we’d already chosen our classes. I finally woke to the sound of Erica’s light cough. Cracking one eye open, I saw her perched at my desk, feet propped up as she picked at my breakfast while reading a book on some different professions you could gain.

Smiling, I croaked with morning grogginess, “Pretty sure that’s my food you’re eating.”

"Well, I don’t see you eating it," Erica smirked, setting her book aside. She got up, crossing the room to lie down beside me, her face just inches from mine. "Good morning, Jack," she murmured, her voice soft.

I looked at her, trying to gauge her intentions, when she leaned in and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek.

"C'mon, we have to go find Chris," she said, hopping up and tossing me a set of clothes for under my armor. Then she just stood there, watching me with a mischievous grin. "Well, go on," she prompted, that devious smile never leaving her face.

I headed into the closet, catching a glimpse of Erica's pout before I closed the door. Once I’d changed and walked back out, I found her still pouting, though she was now dressed in her robe with her grimoire secured at her waist. My mom must’ve taken care of dyeing her outfit black overnight—no need for me to even bring it up.

Erica glanced down at her newly darkened robes as we made our way downstairs. "Black is not my color," she muttered, inspecting the fabric.

"I think it suits you," I replied with a smirk. "Besides, that blinding hot pink was… something else. You’d have stuck out like a sore thumb."