I followed Aeona, Targon trailing close behind me, his steps a constant reminder of the watchful eyes on my every move. The path led us toward Aeona's home, though I had no clue where that might be. As we walked, my mind kept circling back to the conversation and the claim that Aeona was a seer.

There was no job called a seer in the game I knew so well. But then, as I mentally sifted through the 32 initial jobs, no, make that 33, including mine, the Creeping Harbinger, which never existed in the game before.

Regardless, there were a few that could be categorized as "Seer" type jobs. First, there were three jobs that could predict the future, each tied to different cultures and beliefs within the game world. Next were two jobs that involved delving into the realm of the human subconscious and revealing things that were not known.

The Oracle of Self, bound to ancient rituals and temples, required high-standing membership in certain religious groups and was confined to specific regions. The Celestial Soothsayer drew powers from the alignment of the stars, needing intense study and devotion to astrology. The Ripple Forecaster was the most mysterious, rumored to be a gift from birth or gained through a sacred blood transfusion.

As for reading minds, two jobs emerged: the Green Sprouting, which involved using combination of plants to delve into a person's subconscious—a practice forbidden in some lands—and the Mind Fumbler, a direct invasion of the mind through touch, a technique often associated with the criminals and the like.

These "seer" types were considered weak in the game world, often ridiculed for lacking both offensive and defensive abilities from early to end game. But they held secrets, ancient traditions that went beyond mere abilities.

Given our path through the woods, teeming with ancient flora, I began to suspect Aeona was a Green Sprouting.

Moreover, I had played the game so exhaustively that I knew what would happen without needing any predictive skills. But reality started to set in. What if the seer job was more potent in this world? What if thoughts and the future weren't scripted but ever-changing variables? Could seer types be deadly here? The old legends of seers altering the course of wars and kingdoms came to mind, quickening my pace.

I couldn't help but follow Aeona, drawn to learn more about what she was capable of, and about the jobs in this world that seemed to be more than mere numbers. Her presence exuded an aura of mystery that transcended the game's boundaries, sparking questions that nibbled at the corners of my mind.

As we continued to walk, the surroundings shifted, and the forest's dense foliage closed around us. The subtle scent of damp earth filled my nostrils, and the distant rustling of leaves played a soft melody. Each step felt like venturing deeper into unknown territory, an adventure beyond the familiarity of the game I once knew—a game that now seemed to be breathing with history, culture, and endless possibilities.

Walking for several minutes, Aeona, Targon, and I approached her home, the complex blend of aromas was a curiosity that I couldn't ignore. The way the scents mingled reminded me of hidden secrets and mysteries yet to be revealed.

"Stay outside, Targon, lest you spoil the atmosphere," Aeona said, a teasing lilt in her voice, but her eyes never quite met mine.

Targon grumbled, but I was already stepping inside, my "madness insight" skill heightening my awareness. I noticed how Aeona's breath seemed to catch, her posture ever-so-slightly guarded.

The interior of the hut was a treasure trove, filled with herbs and strange artifacts that may have mistaken her as a witch. She gestured to a chair, and I sat, eyes still scanning the surroundings, picking up the nuances that hinted at deeper layers.

"I'll be right back," she said, but her voice lacked warmth. Was that a brief flash of hostility in her eyes?

I tried to probe deeper with my cosmic lore skill, but forgot it was sealed away making it useless. No matter; my heightened perception was already revealing much. The Green Sprouting's allure and the way Aeona's eyes avoided certain objects told a story I was eager to explore.

She returned with woven basket in hand, filled with assorted plants, and our conversation began, a dance of words and hidden meanings.

"A traveler from afar, are you?" she asked, her tone friendly, but her hands were restless, betraying her suspicion.

"That's right," I replied, curiosity piqued. "The road's full of surprises."

"And are you aware of the situation here?" she probed, her eyes searching mine for something unspoken.

My skill allowed me to catch the minute shift in her posture. "Not yet, but I'm eager to learn."

Her final question seemed to hang in the air, almost a challenge. "Are you on our side?"

I leaned in, my eyes narrowing. "I am no one side if no one is against me."

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For a moment, her facade cracked, and I saw a glimpse of uncertainty. She quickly masked it with a smile and began her ritual. She lit a piece of paper that spontaneously combusted before she threw it into the basket of herbs.

The room filled with the scent of burning herbs, and I could feel her watching me, gauging my reaction.

"This will help me see your future," she said, but her voice was strained, and her hands trembled ever so slightly.

I leaned back, a slow smile spreading across my face. "Go ahead. Show me something new," I said, knowing full well she wasn't capable of seeing my future.

Her eyes turned a vivid green, and she whispered, "Let's see who you really are."

To my surprise, the crest on my hand glowed a dim red, its pulsing light reflecting in Aeona's green eyes. A sensation swept over me, as though it was forcefully redirecting her attempt to probe into my mind and inviting her into itself instead. I felt a pull, a gentle insistence from the crest, and though I sensed I could resist it, curiosity took hold, and I chose to let it be.

As the glow intensified, the reality of Aeona's hut seemed to waver. The comforting warmth, the scent of burning herbs, the creak of the wooden floor—all began to fade as a chilling blackness encroached from the edges of my vision. A shiver ran down my spine as the familiar surroundings were swallowed by shadow, leaving me adrift in an ever-deepening void. My eyes strained, reaching out for something—anything—to grasp onto, but found only darkness.

A soft rustle broke the silence, like the first droplets of a rainstorm. I turned, expecting to see rain, but there was nothing. The sound grew, transforming into a steady patter, a relentless downpour without a single droplet to be seen. I reached out, but my fingers met only emptiness; no wetness, no cold, just an unsettling absence.

I took a tentative step forward, my foot landing on unseen ground. It felt solid, real, but I couldn't see it. The sound of the rain was everywhere, a symphony without a source, resonating in the darkness.

Another step, and another, each one pulling me further from the familiar. The rain's hidden dance played tricks on my ears, seeming to come from all directions yet nowhere at all. A disorienting enigma that teased my senses.

My breaths grew shallow as I continued to walk, the darkness unyielding, the invisible rain unending. The more I tried to understand, the more elusive it became, like a puzzle with pieces that shifted and changed with every touch.

A sensation of being watched prickled at the back of my neck. I stopped, listening, but heard only the rain. The sensation persisted, an unexplained presence that lingered just out of reach. Was something there, hidden in the shadows, or was it merely a figment of my imagination?

With every heartbeat, the unseen world around me seemed to pulse in unison, as if alive and responding to my curiosity and confusion. It was a place defying definition, a realm existing beyond the boundaries of reason.

"Where is this?" I wondered aloud, my voice tinged with curiosity. Raising my hand to examine it, I found that the only thing visible in this shadowy void was the red circular crest on my palm. My hand itself had vanished into the surrounding darkness, leaving the crest as the sole beacon in this mysterious place.

As if it responded to my questions, the rhythmic sound of invisible rain was now a cacophonous roar, engulfing the void in its unrelenting symphony. As I stared upwards, a fog, thick and writhing, began to form, obscuring something colossal within its misty embrace.

The fog seemed to breathe, expanding and contracting, and within its restless movement, I caught glimpses of a monstrous entity. Vast shadows, larger than mountains, shifted behind the fog, giving only fleeting impressions of what lay beyond. What appeared to be tentacles, longer than entire valleys, coiled and writhed, their sheer scale defying my mind's ability to comprehend.

My eyes widened, unable to focus on any single part of the monstrosity, the fog revealing and concealing in a maddening dance. The red crest on my hand began to vibrate, resonating with the unseen rain, reflecting a crimson glow that seemed to beckon the fog closer.

Every heartbeat pounded in my ears, matching the unseen rain, and the air grew dense with the scent of ancient brine. I felt the enormity of the entity through every sense, its presence a tangible weight upon my very soul.

The ground beneath my feet, once solid, now pulsated, echoing the entity's vast, unending movement. I reached out, my hand trembling, not from fear but from the overwhelming sensation of standing before something beyond mortal comprehension.

[Established Connection. Confluence attained. Feeble entity's intrusion diverted to the Nexus Plane.]