She woke up feeling groggy, but overall better. No pressure drilled deep into her skull. Just…an ache.
Healing potions couldn’t mend broken bones immediately, in the case of a traditional, unspecific one, but when used with a cast and rest, the bone would restore much faster than if not, depending on the potency of the potion itself. Some were dangerous—laced with poison. Some extremely, unbelievably effective, sold on black markets for thousands. The human rich and famous might’ve been anti-magic and anti-supernatural in theory, but only taking a very, very strong healing potion could sometimes explain their speedy recoveries. They only cared about supernaturals if, and when, it helped them.
A healing potion was more of a supercharged medicine rather than an immediate panacea. Gregory’s, for as awful as it tasted, was good-quality, probably organic. It cleared her migraine…if only it could clear all of them. Still, she was thankful.
“Good news—pizza just arrived.” Gregory grinned, tossing the box onto the kitchen table. Jacinta rubbed her eyes and glanced outside—clouds, sliver of a crescent moon, nighttime—and faced him.
“How long did I sleep?”
“Eh, six hours or so? How’s your head feel?”
She slid off the couch, cracked her neck, and strode to the table. He already had drinks and plates set. “Better. I still feel like I got hit with the heel of a rifle, but…at least I don’t have a raging migraine. How’s your arm?”
Gregory gestured the bandage to her. He’d changed into pajamas; white and blue plaid bottoms, pink t-shirt top of some neon skull and slime coming out of the eye-holes. Well, it was a bandage there, on his arm—she didn’t exactly have X-ray vision.
“Glad to know that you just got grazed. Y—”
“Shh. Let’s eat.”
They both sat and ate as per his request. New York pizza never disappointed; Jacinta folded it and smiled. Spicy jalapeño, sweet pineapple, salty and savory ham with a yeasty crust, tangy sauce, creamy cheese—perfection. She couldn’t imagine a world without the joys of modern food…
“Monster.” Gregory mumbled under his breath, chuckling. “You know that Hawaiian pizza’s actually from Canada? Those sap-drinking northerners…” He shook a fist; they both laughed, debated pizza ethics. Jacinta knew her food; she argued that she won, but Gregory never relented. After two slices in for her and three for him, they stopped talking about pizza. Paused. He leaned forward, tapping his ear; something lit up.
“Alright, so. There’s a lot that just happened. First—Atlas.” He twisted his head to the side. The Atlas looked like a small metal dot along the top rim of the helix, the upper curled fold of the ear. “Hooks up to your magic and body; that’s what powers it. You run out of mana, the Atlas’s got no power. You saw it in-action; the more familiar you are with a person, the more it’ll tell you. I gamed my stated for anybody that’s looking in; even without that, I’m…kinda impressive, ha,” he leaned back, miming popping his collar. Jacinta rolled his eyes, propping her head on her hand.
“So it can run scans for any enemies, like those SEE Agents, to give more of the basic info. Certain knowledge is already imported; it’s an AI, so machine learning, all that jazz. The more you see with it, the more it knows. It looks at magic primarily; I’m sure it also can tell you about other things later on. Like your gran’s recipes.”
Jacinta glared at him. “You looked through my Atlas’s memory?”
“'Ey!” Gregory raised his hands, leaning back. “Look. Again—machine learning. It needs data input to develop from; since I’m the creator and developer, I need to know what the heck it says. If it’s a breach of privacy, I’ll take it back. But it benefits both of us. And anyway; you’re like a sister—I don’t care what you do with it.”
Jacinta eased a little, raking back her dark hair. “Fine. Fine. You’re right—I’ll keep it. And if you want to see those recipes…she was the best. Not always the best to me, especially with her memory…anyway—” she cleared her throat and waved a hand dismissively. “But she had good food. So this thing…how does it, uh—categorize everything? I mean, can you really boil down a person’s body into a set number of health points?”
Gregory chuckled. “Fair point. I mean, yes and no—it makes assumptions, a lot of assumptions. Depending on age, physique, health conditions, training, general trends—it can closely guess. Same for things like intelligence; if you’ve had an average education but don’t really care to push yourself or haven’t been able to, then you’re average. Maybe if implemented on a wider scale, then it can underscore systematic issues with access to education and certain minorities and supernaturals, but—a man can dream.” He chuckled. “The Atlas looks at not potential, but as you currently stand. The number systems are based off DnD; you go from zero to…thirty—I think that’s as high as it goes. Let’s talk strength—you…don’t exactly work out, no offense—”
“I’d say none taken, but that tone makes me think I should be offended…” Jacinta mumbled, giving him a flat look.
Gregory smirked. “So. Strength’s…seven, with that little ring you got on. It’s your worst stat, don’t worry. But it means you’d be with the minus-two on a strength check, so—you have a hard time lifting heavy objects. If you go to an Olympic athlete who’s trained their whole life, they can definitely be at a twenty—as high as a person can naturally push themselves. Then you get into supernatural territory. 24 for an orc who’s a wrestler; you get my point. Thirty’s godlike.”
She nodded, biting her lip. “Makes sense. So this thing can cover a lot of bases. Who even needs doctors to diagnose you when this thing tells you all your health stuff…uh, can it work as storage for spells? My grimoire’s not coo-ow!” She flinched, blistering heat burning into her thigh. She grabbed the grimoire, currently still a matchbox. It was smoking.
Gregory gave her a visual signal that said, I’ll tell you later.
She laughed awkwardly. “Hey, grimoire—c’mon. I love you. I’ll give you a nice cleaning when we’re back home, alright? Dust off all the pages?”
The smoldering stopped. Jacinta sighed.
“Other things it can do. Sense where you are in the world—or universe, or multiverse, if all the talk of these other realms and parallel worlds existing is true. I’m hoping it’ll be able to track people if they yeet off Earth, but…I mean, I dunno if that’d ever happen.” He chuckled, shrugging. “Certain…text storage.” His gaze shot to the grimoire. No burn. Good. “Up next is long-distance telepathic communication. Lemme think…yeah, that’s what I got coming up. Updates patch automatically to your Atlas. You have any questions?"
Jacinta shook her head, frowning. “I…I don’t think so. I mean, yeah, but—alright. Time to rip the bandage off. How do I check my own stats?”
“Just mentally tell it to check. Looking into a mirror will help it index faster, too. I gotchu.” He pulled a travel mirror from his pocket and flipped it open. Jacinta eyed her reflection, her tired eyes, wild hair, wider cheeks, fuller lips, acne scars—
Her information appeared.
Jacinta Lola Carter Suárez
Age:
23
Race:
50% human, 50% witch (blood witch sub-classification)
[[view lineage]]
Exp:
[ ...indexing... ]
This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.
Alignment:
True Neutral
Strength:
7
[[10% decreased strength due to the Ring of Mana]]
Charisma:
12
[Appearance]
[https://i.imgur.com/14SCMYh.png]
[[Face blurred by self-request.]]
Dexterity:
12
Intelligence:
11
Willpower:
15
Luck:
9
Agility:
10
Wisdom:
9
Personality
traits/skills:
Leadership:
4%
Sass:
61%
Intimidation:
9%
Manipulation:
12%
Bravery:
18.5%
Empathy:
27%
Magic Abilities:
General Witchcraft:
(Click for more details.)
[[Spellcasting:]]
[[Potion-making:]]
[[Divination:]]
[[Enchantment:]]
[[Conjuration:]]
[[Abjuration:]]
[[Transmutation:]]
[[Blood Magic:]]
Magical Skill:
Low: unrefined, untrained.
High mana and aptitude.
Seek training when possible.
Coven?
Yes.
Racial Traits
-10% accelerated healing rate
-25% mana boost
-Magic-sense
-Minor ESP
-Mana regeneration rate: 1 mana/5 mins passively; 1 mana/1 minute while sleeping; meals boost mana
-Allergies to copper, shellfish, liver, lentils, and blood.
Other Traits
-Darkvision: 5 feet ahead. [[Blessing from Doña Lucia]]
Notes:
Healing potion in-effect; concussion 64% healed.
Inventory:
[On Person]
Ring of Mana
Grimoire: (matchbox form)
Wallet: $53
Jacinta tried to take it all in. It was unbelievably strange, to see her own being condensed down to a series of numbers and statistics. She’d always thought of herself as too complicated to siphon to a damn table, but here she was. Studied and simplified like a character she’d make for a DnD game.
Her left eye twitched.
“I…thought I was funnier than a twelve for charisma.” She said with a huff. Her numbers were…average. Almost across the board, average.
Was her heart heavy? She felt it sink along her chest. Her fingers coiled to fists. “And…braver than that. And—what the hell? I’m empathetic.”
Gregory laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I think it’s imaging, like, Oprah at a ninety, so—”
“What does this mean? Low magic skill, high mana? I’m a blood witch—I mean, that’s—”
“Jaci.” Gregory called, frowning. She blinked—the text fled her vision. Her gaze was tight on his.
“What?”
“You’re okay. I mean—okay as in the ‘we’re gonna be okay’ okay, not the ‘meh’ okay. Seriously. We’re still young; we have time to be extraordinary. And anyway—you have other skills. I’m planning on adding more about things—like cooking skill, coding, uh—gardening. Things that are more specialized. I mean, we live in the twenty-first century; how necessary is strength and endurance if you’re not an Olympic athlete?”
She raised a brow. “Uh, we were just in a situation where strength and endurance are good to have?”
Gregory face-palmed. “Alright, yeah—fair point. But this is the first, and last, time we’ll be dealing with SEE officers and getting shot at. Or whatever the guy you were dealing with was doing. Okay? Trust me; the stats don’t matter. I just figured it’d be a fun little addition to help convenience you.” He grabbed the matchbox and tossed it back to her. Jacinta was too slow to react—it sailed past her head.
“I’m a little near-sighted, Gore. Apparently after my grandma went poof, I got a bit of dark-vision—in return for something I’ll need glasses for. Glasses are fucking expensive. Thanks, Doña…” She mumbled, standing, returning her grimoire into her pocket. “And fine. Fine—you’re right. Just kinda sucks to find out that I’m very average. What about you, really? Compensating for something with the façade?” She forced a chuckle, trying to lift her mood.
“Just like you. Pretty average—I mean, I’m stronger and more charismatic and more skilled at magic and—" he stopped himself, clearing his throat, “but…you’re, uh, sassier?”
Jacinta rolled her eyes. “This is…something. Alright, who else has one of these?”
“Just you and me for now, bestie.”
She snorted. Reached up, felt the machine, the three concentric metal dots. It was small enough to look like an earring, the tip of a sewing pin, and was warm to the touch. Slight buzz in her skull, a glitch in her vision, sight breaking into pixels and splitting and—
She let go. Everything returned to normal.
Everything was okay.
Ha. If only she could convince herself so easily of such lies.