The hall was awash with dust and debris, the ceiling was collapsing, the walls were crumbling, and what little runes were left found themselves misfiring from the sheer flood of potent mana. Yet amidst all the bedlam, deep in the core of the crater, central to the blast, was a misfit of coughing and wheezing that sounded like an accordion missing a few patches. Heir apparent to this cacophony of wet, bone-cracking gasps for breath was a half barbequed ghoul of a woman with her right arm outstretched as if catching the blast in her palm. Or would have, given she had a palm to work with, or a forearm, and maybe a bit of bicep. However, despite the grievous injuries, the half-exposed skeleton's wheezing started to sound a lot more like delirious laughter.
Mara couldn't believe her luck, or misfortune, but somehow she was alive. Heavily injured, but her metaphorical HP gauge seemed above zero, at least for the moment, and the sheer fact that her bones seemed to have fused in place from the heat, combined with a poorly placed humerus pun, seemed to have mentally pushed her over the edge, or at least she'd run out of fucks. Probably both. Somehow she could feel it all, or enough of it to gather the scale of the pain, like some sort of cobbled together sixth sense hastily thrown together from whatever her lingering mana sense was that she was either getting from her new 'horns' or whatever Trace was currently busy devolving or evolving itself into. So despite all the injuries, and the fact that she looked like the recipient of a nuclear sunburn, the 'ghoul in the crater' was practically laughing its ass off.
Mara knew without a doubt her eyes were long gone, along with what was likely the front half of her face, but thankfully the pain stopped where the flesh stopped, and to it's credit, Debug seemed to be hard at work neutralizing what little sense of pain she still retained while Bio kicked it into overdrive. She knew she was properly fucked this time around. To say the mana drain was noticeable would be an understatement, and after dumping nearly all of her mana into getting herself properly fucked, she was now quite literally up the creek without a paddle. She was spent, and even if she wasn't, neither Debug nor Bio had what it took to fix the mess she'd smoldered herself into, but at this point that didn't bother her in the slightest because she had an ace up her sleeve, all she had to do was trust.
Because deep within a forest where only the lost could be found, there was a grassy knoll absent of trees, and upon that crest sat a stone platform that didn't belong. Her personal respawn point. The whole idea of it was unreal, but if she was to believe her skill, and the evidence she'd now likely incinerated, it was actually more unlikely that she wouldn't find herself face-planting into the unforgiving stone. You know, I've got to be losing it, or I'm just finally getting it, but somehow dying just isn't as terrifying the second time around… or however many thousands of times it's actually been– Oh? Was that my liver? Or my spleen? I can never remember which one is on the left, but that should not have just slid down my leg. Ah, there it is, the sharp chest pain. I figured there'd be a proverbial nail in the cough-in at some point.
Unable to help herself, the ghoul in the crater punned herself into a coughing turned laughing fit as her heart choked itself out on a lack of blood and her lungs spasmed and seized, until finally her dying fit tore her half-fused skeleton down until she was nothing more than a highly suspect corpse in a crater that someone had carved out of a structure most would have thought impregnable, as whatever constituted Mara at that point properly checked itself out.
∆ ∆ ∆
*SCHWOP*
The oddly familiar noise startled Mara awake, a herald of both her blessing and her curse. She was back in the physical, and, as usual, falling face first into the indifferent concrete below. At this point it was irrefutable, however much of a faith exercise it seemed to be only moments ago, it was hard to refute the glowing red rune rapidly approaching her face that seemed to be her welcome wagon for every restart. Or respawn– However that works.
*CR-SCMACK*
Without much in the way of aerial mobility, Mara did what most brick-like things did when they were unsupported in the air. For a moment, Mara just lay there, really getting a good impression of the engravings before peeling herself off its unforgiving surface. As she slowly got to her feet, Mara could already see that the rune was dimming, its deep crimson now barely orange hue beneath the midday sun, whatever mana it had now utterly spent. However, even powering down, it was obvious to Mara that this was no ordinary rune.
After seeing a plethora of other examples in the hundreds of trap runes she'd spent weeks dismantling, Mara could tell that this rune was practically alien in its architecture, practically a city of sigils in comparison. There were at least a dozen major clusters of sigils that could have easily composed their own rune in density alone, and the detail was astronomical, the engravings reaching incredibly minute scales as the larger runes swirled in complexity.
"Wow, weird… The ones in the obelisk were basically concentric, almost maze-like circles, but this… This is like a city! And the scale! The detail! It's incredible, there's got to be over a hundred different twists and turns in here, I don't even know where to begin… Wait– Trace! Trace, can you–"
Only just realizing how quickly the mana was fading from the rune, and how little time was left, Mara desperately called upon her skill. If for no other reason than to give it a possible experience stimulus, but if she was lucky, maybe something more. However, just as she felt the subtle drain on her mana and felt the feeble tendrils of her skill reach out, something reacted. Violently.
With a crack that sounded like Zeus smiting a dissident, Mara felt like she was punched through the chest as she was blasted backwards into the air by a nearly unseen force, for only a slight crackling of red lightning hinted at the enormous mana blowback that had just sent her up a few meters like she was a postal box marked fragile.
Hitting the softer-than-concrete-but-still-surprisingly-quite-hard hillside like a rubber mallet making its way down a flight of stairs, Mara tumbled and skidded down the hill with a healthy mixture of curses and grunts before finally skidding to a stop like a loose ragdoll with a half roll and a flop. Ow-w-w, is this how it feels to get truck-kun'd? Ow– God damnit, It hurts to laugh– Owow-ow– What the hell?
*D-D-DING*
Mara barely had to think the question before her noisiest skill went off like a fire alarm, multiple prompts springing to life around her as she sat up to see the crest of the hill, and the pedestal she'd just been launched from, a good fifty or so meters from where she come to a halt.
Shaking the stars from her eyes and grabbing the first of a half dozen prompts, Mara couldn't help but clutch the side of her head as she winced at the sudden headache. Jeez, I feel like my head's properly ringing now– Like, actually ringing– that's more than weird, Debug, can you chill? Please. Like how many prompts is this? And do you need to make the noises?
In near immediate response, all other panels but the one in Mara's hand vanished from sight in a way that was as sudden as it was silent. It left an uncanny feeling without the noise, like climbing one too many steps at the top of a staircase. Shrugging it off, still unsure if Debug's prompts were better with or without the noise, Mara suddenly felt the panel in her palm buzz in a rhythm, as if it were a smart phone on 'silent', still intent on grabbing her attention. Realizing that she had to concede some middle ground, Mara half-chuckled half-sighed at her skill and read over the hologram.
> <<
>
> Debug:
>
> ● Sorry, I got a bit excited– I don't know if The System loves you or hates you, but to put it simply, you've got a -lot- of 'mail'.
>
> >>
"Mail? Wait– 'The System'? Like there's an actual game system here or something? Okay, I mean, I've got skills, and things have names with descriptions that you can look up as I ask for them… Alright, that's a stupid point of contention this many weeks in, but still, it's a 'thing'? Like a sentient 'thing'? Does it talk to you?"
Mara aired her questions aloud, a practice she'd grown accustomed to inside the dark-blue hues of her former rectangular abode, but now, outside in the warm hues of the midday sun, she felt a little self conscious talking aloud so openly. Glancing around the hillside almost out of shame more than fear, Mara simultaneously found the treeline as empty as it was jarring as the vivid recollection of the alpha's midday ambush rushed back to her like a car crash. The sudden flash of the dark black shadowy teeth leaping out of the treeline lurched into the forefront of her mind sending shudders down her spine.
"Ooohh… fuck."
This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.
She found her breath caught in her throat for what seemed like an uncomfortably long amount of time. It was just an empty tree line, but the rush of sensations was physically paralyzing, and it wasn't until she felt the stale air whisper from her lungs that she could finally move even a single muscle again. Heaving an expletive under her breath as she sucked in a lung full of of fresh air, Mara could still feel the adrenaline rampaging through her veins as cold sweats continued to plague her.
Fuck. Just remembering them is awful, what was with those things anyways? They were practically daytime nightmare fuel, leaping from shadow to shadow, with a terrifying ferocity… Ugh– I can't wait to get out of this fucking forest…. Glancing down at her palm, thinking back to what she'd just done to herself in the obelisk. Whatever, in the wise words of an arm-strong man, if it bleeds, we can kill it– hopefully…
"Oh, speaking of- Debug -did that last sigil end up as like a macro or spell or something tangible and quick I can just use? It was the weirdest feeling… like… being the flint as it's struck… but it's so abstract though. Maybe that's the 'will' of the sigil you have to impart? Like empathizing with an action? I mean, that's if my assumption's right, which, not to toot my own horn, but I'm pretty sure I categorically blew myself to smithereens with -something- so… maybe sigils and runes aren't exactly like that, but I can't be that far off the mark at least."
Not hearing the usual chime of a response, it took Mara a moment to realize that the panel in her hand was once again buzzing. Wow lol, it only took me a month to forget what having a smartphone felt like, and now, not two minutes into a pseudonym it's all coming rushing right back. Chuckling to herself as she glanced back down at her 'phone', Mara did a double take as the panel she was holding looked an awful lot like her old smart phone before she blinked and it was back to 'normal'. To say two back-to-back mental flashbacks were jarring was putting it mildly to say the least, taking a moment to blink a few more times for good measure, and not finding Debug's prompt to be anything more than it usually was, Mara pushed the kindling that was the concerns about her mental state to the side and focussed on what Debug was actually putting in her holographic-panel-turned-makeshift-handheld.
> <<
>
> Debug:
>
> ● Alright so I'll try to condense some things so I'm not dumping literally everything on you. Yeah, sort of how a skill is part of a whole, a person is part of a larger whole? It's hard to explain but as it's all mana-driven, yeah it has tendencies, but they're usually like tidal tendencies, cycles, patterns, and rhythms. Procedures for handling and accomplishing things en masse per se. I say usually because lately it seems like you got your own personal maelstrom going on in the background– which leads me into 'the haul'.
>
> ● You got not one, but two titles, and one was already a substantial boost to your mana generation. Neither seem that appealing to me, but now, if you wanted to, you can be either 'The Ghoul In The Pit' or 'The Heir Presumptive' instead of 'First True Demon Queen', though neither of which comes with much explanation… Although I think I can surmise at least the first's origins, the 'Heir Presumptive' eludes me. Neither seem that beneficial atm though, but they do list a hidden effect. Which could be good or bad, so I'd just avoid equipping them all together if I were you. Maybe go with 'Ghoul' if you'd rather shirk the Demon Lord title.
>
> ● In other news, Bio netted itself a few more levels trying to keep your barbeque from getting out of hand, which seems to equate to some pretty speedy basic healing at this point. Considering that 'tumble' you just had likely left you with at least a few fractures here and there and you didn't even notice says a lot about our little skill experiment.
>
> ● Mark also gained a couple levels, which seems to mean that you can now cast up to three sigils simultaneously, but try to remember to throw them at something next time, because as much fun as blowing yourself up was the first time around, re-experiencing something is a lot like re-eating something. Sure it might be made of the same stuff, but once digested, it's not really the same stuff.
>
> ● Sadly, I don't have any news on Trace, and if your little pop-pop back there was any indication, it's likely in need of some much needed down time. Thankfully you're not entirely blind, and while it's not nearly the same thing, if you focus on it you should be able to smell- or maybe taste -the mana in the air… Regardless, those metal barbs protruding out your cranium are basically plugged into the ambient mana, so you should be able to sense that somehow.
>
> >>
Scrolling down the wall of text her skill was dumping on her, Mara found herself nodding along as she not only felt the boost in her mana, but also the faint taste of iron in the air. So there's a system in charge of titles and all sorts of other things and each title you get bumps your mana generation… So is it me making the mana or the system? Does it matter? And what's with this flavor, it's like I busted my lip or something but– oh, is that rune blood magic? That'd be way too on the nose, but… I 'respawn' here, or whatever it actually is, and I am filled with what is undoubtedly quite a lot of blood… Huh. I don't see where that wouldn't add up– But still, who made that monster of a rune, and why me, why here? With another fit of buzzing, Mara noticed that once again her sudo-phone had updated with more information from her number-one.
> <<
>
> Debug:
>
> ● Ha! Great questions, I just wish I had answers for you, for once I'm at a loss. Even now, with a few levels in the bank, I'm still being actively denied any further details about it besides 'it's a rune' and 'it's blood magic' as you've already so astutely surmised. It seems whoever built this and put it here didn't want any prying eyes or meddlesome fingers getting in their pie, but maybe with a few more levels I might be able to force some more details out of it.
>
> ● Also, no, blowing yourself up didn't net you a handy suicide button, but your Hexadex lore is now nearly complete. I still don't really know what it's cataloging, and its progression jumps are about as erratic as your sense of self-preservation, but I don't think completing it is that far off for you, so congrats. Lores can be fickle things with obtuse requirements even in the best of times.
>
> >>
"Damn." Mara muttered, absent-midedly slipping her 'phone' back into the pocket of her criply clean jeans as she mulled over what Debug had said. I mean, go figure Mara. It's not like this would just be that easy, even if this were a game, and hell, doubly more so in that case, there's no way answers like that are just going to pop up without at least a few significant detours and side plot developments. And even if this is some fucked up alternate fantasy world, there's enough indisputable evidence of magic here to put a decent credence to destiny and all it's meddlings. Ugck. Too many 'what if's. Whatever. I guess I'll burn those bridges when I–
"Wait, when did my clothes– Oh. Ohh." Only just now realizing it, Mara registered that the pedestal had not only put her back to normal, but it had also restored her clothing. Oh– Huh. I guess I have infinite spares of my favorite hoodie now– "PFFT–" LOL, I blew myself up and all I got was a commemorative hoodie! Bursting into laughter at the thought, Mara had a nagging feeling that maybe, just maybe, she was getting a little off her rocker.
Though, now noticing with some chagrin that her 'commemorative hoodie' was now thoroughly covered in grass stains, Mara brushed off what she could while she mulled over what she was going to do now. Hmm… Well… Staying here really isn't an option, food's scarce, but the wolves aren't. So I guess option one is to retrace my steps back to the ever so slightly toxic but somewhat safe concrete bunker, which- now that I think about it -likely has a brand new hole blasted out of it– Ooor, I pick another direction, and see where the winds take me… Hmmm… Decisions, decisions.
Brushing the hair out of her face as she looked around, all Mara could see of her options were trees, trees, and an abundance of more trees. Oh, aren't I just spoiled for choice today… Now where did I go last time? Up the valley, right? Maybe down's the way to go this time? Judging the peaks to be similar enough to what she could vaguely recall, Mara confirmed that there were steep ridges on opposite sides, let's call them left and right, and then between them, the ever so gentle slope of the canopy climbing up in one direction and sloping down in the other. Sure it was harder to see with half a grassy knoll blocking her way, but considering she was already half-way down the side of it she wanted to be on, and there really wasn't a good reason to climb all the way back up again.
Especially since Trace is in no condition to analyze it, and Debug's still getting checked at the door, the rune's basically moot to me right now. And the pedestal's just a rock, and so I'm back at square one. No home, no water, no food, but I guess it's not exactly 'square one'. I mean, at this point I'm pretty sure this counts as a new game plus or something considering both Debug as a whole and my novice but slowly growing knowledge of what seems to be 'hex' magic… Mara glanced down towards the tree line and the shadowy canopy that awaited her, danger lurking in its depths, but also hope. Gone was the 'easy route', she was done with the obelisk, it was starting to get 'lair-y' anyways. She had a full on blood-bathed bedroom, a laboratory filled with god knows what, and a bathroom that could have easily been mistaken for a torture room by the less imaginative. Sure, the lounge was basically normal, key word 'was', as it was now likely a bunch of rubble, or at least pockmarked full of it.
Making up her mind, Mara put the obelisk behind her. Maybe she'd eventually figure out what happened to the captain, or if any of his crew actually lived to tell their tale, or if anyone actually remembered them at this point. Fuck it. It was just a ruin. Even if I'd been there a couple -thousand- years ago, which is really weird to even conceive of, there's no actual guarantee of it. They just had some of my hair, and if I've been bumming around this forest for even longer… Yeah I could see losing some hair here and there, and the stark color difference between it and leaves garnering enough attention to investigate… Yeah, okay, that's believable enough for me. I mean, short of talking to someone who was there, I read through all the captains logs already, I doubt there was much else– Plus he really, really, really did not want me going in that 'Core Room' of his... Heh– Well, I technically didn't, but maybe not being around that door for a little while is a healthier life choice. I doubt it's still closed at this point, and who knows what popping that cork might have done.
Squelching a bit of shudder as a crisp breeze blew through the open hillside, Mara sighted the largest gap in the trees in roughly the middle of what seemed to be 'downhill' as she pushed the thoughts of what had been from her mind and tried to look forward, figuratively and literally. Heh, I guess walking downhill is bound to be a bit easier, and maybe I can suss out what it would take to make my own sigil now that I've 'tasted' one from someone else's rune… And maybe, just maybe, I might be able to keep the self mutilation to a minimum this time. So with her mind more or less made up, and seeing her path stretching out before her, Mara found a smile teasing the edge of her lips as she set off, jogging a bit as she made her way down the rest of the hill, her mind already drifting back to that momentous moment that precipitated vaporizing half her body mass in a suicidal middle finger to whoever filled that hallway with far too many fucking runes.