As the elevator doors slid closed, Arthur leaned against the wall, releasing a deep, contemplative sigh. His thoughts drifted back to the young guest he'd just escorted—Harry. There was something different about how he'd handled the boy, something almost… natural. When he'd first arrived at Avalon, he'd felt as though he were fumbling in the dark, unsure of how to be the "host" Avalon needed him to be. But with Harry, things had felt surprisingly effortless. Every word he'd said, every gesture of reassurance—it had all come to him instinctively.

Arthur's gaze wandered to the softly glowing symbols on the elevator panel, lost in thought. Why did it feel so natural with him? He was certain that before Avalon, he wouldn't have handled a guest so seamlessly. He'd grown up learning to keep to himself, to avoid attracting attention. People were complicated and messy, and in his past life, he'd learned that it was safer to simply keep his distance.

"Why did I feel… more in control with Harry?" he asked quietly, directing the question to Avalon.

Avalon's voice resonated softly in his mind, its tone both reassuring and instructive. "Your interactions with guests are enhanced by your Guest Relations skill. This ability, though subtle, builds your instincts for creating comfort and understanding. It grows stronger with each interaction, allowing you to respond intuitively to guests' needs."

Arthur absorbed this, feeling a flicker of relief as well as surprise. Guest Relations—it had been listed among his traits since he'd arrived, but he'd paid it little attention. He had simply done what felt natural, yet every word, every gesture toward Harry had aligned perfectly. This skill, then, had quietly worked behind the scenes, refining his responses and helping him navigate Harry's unease.

"So, Guest Relations… it grows over time?" he asked, his voice low as he tried to picture how this skill might evolve.

"Yes," Avalon replied calmly. "But understand that progress is gradual. Skills do not level easily. Each interaction, each moment of empathy, contributes to growth, but it may be some time before significant changes become apparent. These skills are intended to be earned through genuine experience. It is not the level itself you should focus on, but the development it brings."

Arthur nodded slowly, a faint smile touching his lips. Avalon wasn't simply handing him abilities or answers; it was guiding him, allowing him to find his own approach. 'The system isn't all-knowing,' Arthur thought to himself. 'It's more of a foundation—an adaptable tool, not a perfect map.'

Avalon seemed to sense his thoughts. "Arthur," it added with a thoughtful, almost parental tone, "you should know that neither I nor this system operates with absolute knowledge or power. We are guides, not omnipotent beings. The journey you take—and the growth you experience—is ultimately shaped by you."

Arthur took a deep breath, comforted by the thought. The system's limitations felt strangely grounding, a reminder that Avalon itself wasn't some infallible force but a trusted partner, a presence offering gentle guidance rather than prescriptive rules.

The elevator chimed softly, and as the doors opened, Arthur felt a renewed sense of purpose. Each interaction was a small step in shaping not just his skills, but Avalon's future, as he learned, adapted, and connected—one guest at a time.

As Arthur stepped back into the lobby, the lavender-hued system interface hovered at his side, its faintly glowing text and icons floating just within reach. He'd read about systems like this in a few novels—stories where characters leveled up and gained skills in clearly defined ways. It was both familiar and strange to see such a thing here, in Avalon, a place that seemed so timeless, so far removed from anything he'd read about.

Curious, he directed his thoughts inward. Avalon, he wondered, 'why this… system format?'

Avalon's response came quickly, as if anticipating the question. "My previous owners had no need for such a system," Avalon said, a thoughtful note in its tone. "They came to me seeking peace, sanctuary—a safe haven to rest until the end of their days. I was always a sanctuary, a place of solitude, existing solely for my owner's comfort."

Arthur took this in, letting Avalon's words sink in. 'So Avalon wasn't meant to be a hotel? It was just a private refuge?'

"Yes," Avalon replied warmly. "In each past age, I served as a personal haven, my space closed off from the worlds beyond, offering rest only to my owner. They often arrived near the end of their lives or after enduring hardship, seeking only peace."

Arthur imagined Avalon as a serene, quiet place where past owners had spent their final years, enveloped in calm. But his arrival had been entirely different. He hadn't simply arrived here as himself, nor had he intended to. He'd awoken in a new form, possessing skills and abilities—and the interface.

"What makes me so different?" he murmured aloud, almost to himself.

"You are unique, Arthur," Avalon replied, its voice soft and almost contemplative. "You didn't just come to me as others did. You awoke with no memory of your previous body, and you possess a rare skill—Basic Multiverse Navigation. This skill, both powerful and complex, allows you to connect my sanctuary with other worlds and travelers."

Arthur felt a flicker of recognition. Basic Multiverse Navigation. He'd seen it listed among his skills, but hadn't fully understood it until now. This skill wasn't just a line on his interface—it was the very reason Avalon could connect to places like the world Harry had come from.

Sensing his realization, Avalon's voice took on a more reflective tone. "Because of your unique purpose, I chose to integrate a system for your guidance. I believed this format would give you structure, clarity, and a way to track your growth as Avalon's first multiversal host."

Arthur nodded slowly, taking in Avalon's reasoning. He hadn't come here to spend his life in quiet solitude or in retreat from the world. Avalon wasn't simply a solitary refuge anymore; it was evolving into something much more. And he was the bridge, the one opening Avalon's doors to new worlds and new guests.

"None of my previous owners had this purpose," Avalon continued, with a warmth he could almost feel. "You are the first to open Avalon beyond itself. You've brought new energy to these walls, Arthur. This is a new chapter—a chance to become a place of refuge for all worlds."

Arthur's gaze drifted across the lobby, feeling the weight of Avalon's words. This wasn't just a role or a task. Avalon was growing, transforming into a haven that would welcome travelers from distant realms. And he was here, not only to see that vision through but to shape it—one world, one guest, at a time.

Arthur walked slowly across the lobby, his thoughts starting to linger on Avalon's system and the way it was quietly guiding him toward becoming the manager this place needed. He had started to understand his skills better, but his core traits—those were still a mystery. They seemed like fundamental parts of himself, and he wondered why they were treated separately from his skills.

After a moment, he directed his question inward. 'Avalon, why are core traits separate from skills? Are they really that different?'

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Avalon's voice was calm, almost patient, as it answered. "Think of your core traits as the essence of who you are, Arthur. They shape every action, every choice. Skills, by contrast, are abilities you develop to use those traits effectively. For example, Guest Relations draws upon your hospitality and adaptability, helping you connect with guests."

Arthur took this in, nodding slowly. He was beginning to see how his core traits formed a kind of foundation, with his skills acting as tools to express them.

"And traits themselves… can they level up?" he asked, his tone thoughtful.

"Yes," Avalon replied, "but they are far more challenging to develop. Each time you level up in increments of five, you will gain one point to add to any core trait of your choice. It is only after five levels that a core trait can increase, as these qualities are more deeply ingrained."

Arthur blinked, processing Avalon's words. So for every five skill levels he gained, he would earn a single point to enhance one of his core traits. It was a slow, deliberate process, but one that made sense. Core traits were part of his character, essential parts of himself that wouldn't—and shouldn't—change easily. The thought gave him a new sense of purpose, knowing that with each level, he was gradually refining those deeper aspects of himself.

Avalon continued, its tone almost encouraging. "With patience and dedication, these core traits will grow, helping you become the host Avalon requires. But the journey will be long."

Arthur nodded, feeling a quiet determination settle in his chest. He could appreciate that this was a process of growth that couldn't be rushed. There was a kind of wisdom in it, a reminder that true change took time.

"And… what about new skills?" he ventured, curiosity sparking. "Are these something I can just… acquire?"

There was a pause, and then Avalon's voice returned, soft but enigmatic. "It is not yet time for you to learn how new skills are acquired, Arthur. That knowledge will come when you are ready."

Arthur sighed but allowed himself a small, wry smile. Avalon always seemed to have just enough answers to keep him moving forward, though it kept certain mysteries locked away. He sensed that when the time came, Avalon would guide him to what he needed to know.

For now, he was content with the knowledge that each level brought him one step closer to understanding Avalon and his own potential. And, as the quiet strength of the lobby surrounded him, Arthur felt that whatever lay ahead, he was beginning to understand just what kind of place he was meant to create within these walls.

Arthur lingered in the lobby, his mind spinning with Avalon's words. The quiet wisdom of the system, the steady growth of traits, and the slow path toward leveling—it all struck a deep chord in him. Avalon didn't ask for swift transformation, only steady progress. In its own way, it had given him permission to take things one step at a time, to learn and grow gradually. It was a patience he had never really afforded himself.

A flicker of memory surfaced, a reminder of a different time and place, where he'd always felt rushed, unprepared, and a bit like an outsider. He thought back to his former life, the quiet, lonely years spent under the roof of a man who barely acknowledged him. Arthur's father had been a shadowy figure, one who drifted in and out of their tiny, dim apartment, weighed down by neglect and the stench of alcohol. Arthur could still remember those evenings, sitting alone in the dark, wondering if there would ever be a place for him to belong.

Those years had taught him to rely only on himself, to grow up faster than he'd wanted, to expect very little from others. He'd learned to keep his head down, to stay out of the way. 'Traits don't change easily,' he thought, almost wryly. They'd been shaped by survival, by the instinct to keep himself safe in a world that didn't seem to care much about his existence.

And yet, here he was, with Avalon offering him a different path—a place where he didn't have to hide, where he could build something meaningful. With each level, with each guest, he felt that he was slowly chipping away at the defenses he had carried for so long.

Arthur took a deep breath, feeling a rare sense of peace settle over him. Avalon wasn't simply giving him skills or points; it was offering him the chance to redefine himself, to take the remnants of his past and shape them into something new. He was no longer just the forgotten boy in a dark apartment. Here, he had purpose, a guiding role that mattered.

Arthur's gaze drifted over the lobby, taking in the warm lights and the polished floors, the soft hum of Avalon's presence around him. This was more than a space—it was becoming a living, breathing sanctuary, a place with the potential to welcome travelers from countless worlds. It was a hotel, yes, but it was also something more: a haven for those who needed refuge, for those seeking comfort and rest.

He thought of Harry's cautious smile, the look of wonder in his eyes as he explored Avalon's hallways and room. 'That's what I want this place to be,' Arthur realized—a place that could offer people the same sense of peace he'd felt growing in himself. Avalon had given him a chance to experience safety and acceptance, and he wanted each guest to feel that same assurance.

Avalon's voice stirred within his mind, gentle yet certain. "Your vision shapes Avalon, Arthur. With every guest, the energy of this place evolves. As you connect with new worlds, Avalon's walls will expand, opening new paths and possibilities."

Arthur nodded, feeling a flicker of excitement. This wasn't just about managing a hotel; it was about building a home, a place that could change and grow, welcoming guests from places he'd only dreamed about. Avalon could become a sanctuary, yes—but a multiversal one, a place where every traveler found a part of their own world waiting for them.

"Avalon," he thought, his determination solidifying, "we're going to make this into something incredible. A place of welcome for anyone, from anywhere. A place where people don't just rest—they belong."

Avalon's warmth surrounded him, a quiet hum of approval that felt almost like a hand on his shoulder. "Yes, Arthur. And you are the one who will make it so."

Arthur straightened, a renewed sense of purpose surging through him. He was ready to open Avalon's doors to whatever worlds lay beyond, to meet new guests, and to build this sanctuary step by step. It was a journey, one he hadn't expected, but it was one he was more than ready to embrace.

With Avalon's guidance and the steady growth of his own skills, he would make this place into something truly extraordinary—a home for travelers from every corner of existence.

Arthur returned to his quarters behind the main counter, taking a moment to appreciate the quiet calm of the lobby before slipping through the door. His room, cozy and neatly arranged, lay tucked away from the lobby's grandeur, a space for him alone. There was a small bed against one wall, a wardrobe in the corner, and a desk. This room wasn't nearly as grand as the guest suites, but it was his, and after a long day, it was a comfort to retreat into.

Arthur let out a tired sigh and headed toward the small adjoining bathroom. He'd found that the process of unwinding helped ease the tension of the day—and the lingering feeling of being a stranger to himself. He caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror as he prepared for a bath, and it stopped him momentarily. It was still strange, seeing a face he didn't fully recognize looking back at him. The eyes, the set of his jaw, even the way his hair fell—none of it felt quite like his own. Yet it was him, in a way he was slowly coming to accept.

"Getting there," he murmured to himself, trying to put a humorous spin on it as he looked at his reflection. There was a lingering unease, sure, but he'd come to appreciate some things. His physicality, for instance, was familiar enough in most respects, and with a small, wry grin, he tried to reassure himself. "Well, at least my… little guy hasn't changed that much."

He chuckled quietly, more to ease his own tension than anything else, and stepped into the bath, letting the warm water soothe his muscles. It felt good to relax, to shed the day's responsibilities for a moment and allow himself to simply be. He sank into the water, closing his eyes as he let the warmth envelop him, the quiet sounds of Avalon filling the background.

When he finally climbed out of the bath, he felt a bit more at ease, a little closer to himself. He dried off, dressing comfortably before heading back to his bed, where the soft glow of a nearby lamp cast a warm light over the room.

Settling onto the bed, Arthur's mind drifted to the guests he might welcome someday—guests from countless worlds, each bringing something different to Avalon. A small grin spread across his face as a fun thought took hold. 'If Avalon were to connect to several worlds someday, maybe I'd introduce myself with a new name each time, one that fits each guest's world. Imagine the possibilities…'

He mulled over the idea, amused by the thought of adapting his name for the likes of Harry Potter's world. He knew just the name—a classic, fitting alias for the magical realm Harry came from.

"Arthur Pendragon," he murmured to himself, a playful glint in his eye. 'Now that's got a certain ring to it.' He laughed quietly, imagining himself greeting future guests with titles that suited each of their worlds, making Avalon even more of a welcoming space for them.

As he settled deeper into bed, Arthur felt the weariness of the day begin to overtake him, but his amusement lingered. With Avalon as his guide, he could be anyone, welcome anyone, and make Avalon a place of belonging for travelers from all corners of the multiverse.

And with one last, sleepy grin, he thought, 'Arthur Pendragon it is.'