"Get back up, Cadet. Lazing about on the ground is not what'll get you chosen," a harsh voice ordered.
Lucas groaned and rolled over onto his side, before pushing himself back to his feet. He listened to the man on pure instinct, but it was only when he'd returned to standing that he realized he didn't recognize the voice. Neither did he recognize the large room he found himself in, nor its occupants.
"I'm up, I'm up. You'll have to hit harder than that to keep me down," the words rolled out of his mouth all on their own, shocking Lucas.
"Careful what you wish for, urchin," one of the other boys spat out, earning himself a glare from the older man--instructor, most likely--with a funny sword that was with Lucas in the open space.
Lucas glance around and took in the entirety of the room's strangeness. The walls, ceiling, floor, and mats upon which he stood were all gray, but not the gray of stone--it was something else. His, the instructor's, and all the other boys' that stood waiting and watching outfits were also gray, and of a sharp, uniform cut that further supported his growing theory that this was some sort of [Warrior] training.
Up against both sidewalls were orderly looking metal racks holding many kinds of weapons, though all with some sort of funny quality to them, just like the instructor's sword. They were either impractically thin, had strange protrusions in random places, or displayed some other aspect that struck out to him.
"Your sword as well, Cadet," the instructor said with dry annoyance.
"Yes, sir," he was quick to respond, though once again, he did it completely involuntarily.
As Lucas leaned down to collect his own funny blade from where he'd dropped it, he tried to think back on how he'd gotten here and what exactly all this was. He'd...been in a fight, that much he recalled easily. Beyond that, he only got a few flashes of blood, movement, and a constant intense burning. So intense, he could almost still feel it.
"Ready yourself," the instructor ordered, "we go again."
The man did not wait for Lucas before advancing on him, and yet, Lucas had plenty of time to react. His instructor moved far too slow for a [Warrior] his age--so slow that Lucas doubted he truly was one and tried to confirm with [Identify]. But when he reached for the Skill, there was nothing there.
None of his Skills were there. In fact, Lucas seemingly didn't have access to the System at all. A bit of panic slipped into him at this development and what it could mean, but he did not have time to consider it with the instructor closing in. Lucas lifted his thin blade in the way of where he could tell the man would strike, and watched as it rose entirely too slowly.
They both moved like pre-unlock children, and unfortunately, Lucas had been caught off guard. His instructor drew near much before he was ready, and Lucas watched in mild horror with each agonizingly slow second as what he knew would be a truly painful blow approached. Then for some reason, the man curved around him.
And Lucas's body curved in the other direction, all on its own.
What followed was the strangest spar Lucas had, and probably would ever experience in his life. Each of them tried their own attacks as the circled and spun, and never directly clashed head-on. The entire time, Lucas was little more than a spectator in his own body. He watched the deadly dance in rapt astonishment.
He'd come to after clearly being knocked to the ground, but Lucas's body moved through the same movements as the instructor with only slightly lesser skill. What he'd expected to be a short, one-sided thrashing was drawn out into a long and deadly dance, neither of them pushing too hard and instead falling into orbit around one another.
As they moved, their weapons changed. Sometimes Lucas wielded the sword, sometimes the spear, sometimes a disk or staff or even a strange, wrist-mounted projectile weapon of sorts. Every one of them was unlike what he would expect, but his body wielded the weapons with equal and great skill.
Eventually, the change spread to the room and its occupants as well. The fight blurred as time seemed to pass unnaturally quickly, the room grew worn, the instructor grew old before someone else took his place, and the number of spectators lessened. Years and years passed without Lucas ever taking a break from the dance.
He just kept going, never ceasing to fight. In time, he started to recognize a couple different faces the routinely showed up among his rotating cast of partners in the dance. First was a dark-haired man with mischievous-looking eyes that he judged to be about the same age as Lucas. With this man, the dance turned fierce and unpredictable.
Then there was a blond woman that might have been the same age or just a bit younger, and with her the dance slowed and became harmonious. She started showing up more and more. Each time, Lucas felt as if he should know her. It was wrong that he didn't know her. He didn't know any of these people nor much else about the world around him, but with her, that ignorance was heavy and dreadful.
Then the dance stopped, and finally, she spoke.
She smiled warmly at him, and said "You shouldn't be here, Adam."
"Who are you?" Lucas ignored her question and asked now that he finally had control of his body once again.
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
The woman kept her smile, but suddenly it was a sad thing, though no less warm. "It doesn't matter," she shook her head, "what matters is that you shouldn't be here. You have to wake back up."
Lucas took a step forward, and covered seemingly no distance at all. "I don't want to. Please, I need to know."
"But this is no longer your life," she told him, "I am dead, and all this is gone. You aren't even my Adam anymore."
She looked as if she might cry and the sight was like a physical ache to Lucas, but he couldn't give up.
"I will know," he told her with absolute certainty. "It is only a matter of time." He gestured at the room that had become the same exact place in as where he'd evolved his Class. "This may all be gone, but I am still here, and I need to know."
"Then it is as you said, just a matter of time. Goodbye, Adam." The woman took a step back.
"Wait!" He took a panicked step toward her, and once again covered no ground. "Can't you stay a little longer?"
"No," she shook her head, and a tear fell. "You need to wake back up, and I am already gone."
Lucas took another step forward and the scene changed. The room became a cave, and he found himself on the ground, unable to bring himself up. He watched in horror as a blade ran her through from behind and she let out a silent scream. Then everything faded to black.
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Lucas floated within an empty and featureless void of which he was intimately familiar, but he did not worry. Though his mind had returned to the place he'd been before coming to Anki, he knew he wasn't dead. The vision--or memory, possibly--hadn't yet ended. So he had time to think.
What he'd seen had left him confused. He felt like he should be near-broken, emotionally speaking. He should be crying or screaming or stark raving mad, but no. In truth, he just didn't know what to think.
She called me Adam...
It was a good name. Once, it had likely been his name, but the woman was right about one thing. He wasn't Adam anymore. The vision had given him many answers about his past and left him with many more questions, but now he needed to wake up because, with his return to this void, he remembered exactly the sort of situation he had gotten himself in.
All the goblins should be dead, but before I passed out, we were all still located outside of the village wall. More goblins could show up at any time!
...And he'd still had [Overcharge]d mana. Could this all be my life flashing before my eyes? Am I--am I dead?
No.
Lucas froze, not that he could really move, anyway. He tried to surreptitiously look around for the source of the voice. Yet, the void remained as featureless as ever.
Hello?
Yes, I am real.
Shit! Lucas would have jumped if that was at all possible. Who are you, and what are you doing in my head?!
I am not in your head, legacy. I merely speak to you through the breath of this world.
That didn't answer much at all, but Lucas was slightly reassured that the strange voice, whatever it was, wasn't in his head.
What do you want? He asked with a thought.
For some time, he received no answer in turn, and nearly believed the voice was gone.
You have touched on very dangerous matters, legacy. I did not expect to speak to you for some years, still.
You've been watching me?
Yes.
That was no good. Lucas didn't like the idea of some strange voice watching him unseen, not at all. Why? he asked with mounting suspicion.
To understand. But now you have gotten mixed up in events entirely beyond your capability, and I can't have you moving on just yet.
Lucas very carefully did not project his thoughts in the way he thought let the voice see them. Whatever it was, it didn't sound malevolent, but he'd heard stories about trickster spirits before. It was best to be safe, so he took the time to come up with a proper reply.
What exactly have I gotten mixed up in?
A conflict far older than even you, legacy.
I don't want anything to do with your conflict, Lucas replied instantly.
It is too late for that. You have taken Authority, and have become a target.
So you s--
My time is nearly up, so I must speak quickly. Know this, if you wish to survive and retain that which you hold dear, you must come find me in the depths of the Pocheon Abyss. Tell no one of this conversation, else his servants will come for you all the sooner.
I thought you intended to help me?
I have. And I will.
See you soon, legacy.
Lucas knew when the unseen voice departed. With it, the featureless void lost an ephemeral sense of presence and returned to being a little more than a dream. He was left with many questions and much to think about, but soon his consciousness grew weary, and he lapsed into a deep, dreamless sleep.
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Consciousness didn't return to him all at once. It came bit by bit, and Lucas first knew he was rousing from the indecipherable murmurs of hushed conversation nearby. The soft texture of the bed he lay upon came next, followed closely by a putrid stench just barely blanketed by the smell of an herbal remedy. Unfortunately, Lucas's Limited Sensory Enhancement meant he got to experience the both of them.
Once he roused enough to make out the barely controlled panic infecting those hushed voices, Lucas shot to full alertness. Several notifications fought for his notice, but he roughly shoved them down to be reviewed later. He found himself in a long and reasonably wide room lit by a few small windows, in one of many cots lining its length. In each cot starting from the front of the room was a member of the guards that stood before the goblin raiders. They only needed a pitiful few to house each surviving member.
Lucas's heart just about stopped when he didn't immediately see his mother. Once he spotted her a couple cots down, he shot out of bed and to her side, garnering the attention of the small group conversing at the front of the room.
"Oh, thank Idall! One of the [Healer]s has recovered!"
One of the group exclaimed, and they all started moving toward Lucas, but he gave them absolutely zero attention. All of that was reserved for his mother.
When he reached her side, he immediately started assessing her condition. She was unconscious, like all the others appeared to be, but there were no clear wounds and particularly none on her head. All of the medical knowledge she had drilled into him indicated that, at first glance, she should be in perfect health. The issue was immediately apparent.
Her mana was wrong. Murky, and distorted, like a precursor to the condition the goblins had been in. Lucas desperately analyzed each of her currents to try to get a handle on the problem, but he was rudely interrupted by a firm hand taking hold of his shoulder and roughly shaking him. He looked up and was shocked to find, of all people, Elder Falon staring directly into his eyes from mere inches away.
"Child!" He gave Lucas's shoulder another shake. "I said, can you help them?"
Lucas mastered his shock and swallowed, before forcefully removing the Elder's hold on him.
"Give me space," he tried to push the man away softly, but it turned into more of a shove, but right now that didn't matter one bit, "I have work to do."