Thomas knelt at the narrow passage. The light was too dim to see anything worthwhile, and yet he listened for any sounds of movement.

He waited, hearing nothing.

Then there was the soft scraping of claws against rock and rubble. Nothing too close, but there were monsters beyond this area the dragon deposited the two of them into.

Thomas looked back at Gwen, one of his greatest friends at Brookmoors, the hidden academy for Magi. The taller woman was looking away, studying the cavern they found themselves in. Then the viking knelt, her [Wolven Hood] covering more of her flame red hair.

A gentle smile graced his clean-shaven face.

They may be in the “apocalypse” but that was no reason for his grooming standards to get lax. He was a Magi after all, and a gifted one at that.

They had done well together in this Convocation, despite all the twists and turns. A Covenant had captured Gwen early on, then chained her with an accursed thing filled with the remnants of Lormar’s Guilt.

It was too heavy to escape her prison cell at first. Then she did the unthinkable. Gwen grew stronger by crushing the zealot guards with the ball and chain they saddled her with.

Thomas hadn’t been able to sleep until he found Gwen.

When he did find her, Gwen had been stubbornly trying to scale the excavated mining pit she had been imprisoned in. At the time, moving with the [Chain of Atlas] had been doable, but climbing hundreds of feet up muddy, crumbling walls? Not so much.

The rest of the people from Earth that were captured as well hadn’t been able to escape either. One of them had bound Stone aspect to their sense attribute. While that had been handy in discovering the walled off pit, it didn’t do anything to help anyone out of there.

At least most of the Earthers didn’t die down there.

Even if she hadn’t been in danger, Thomas would have chosen her.

Gwen grunted as she pulled free another weapon embedded into her back. “Why are these competitors so fond of hitting and running? They don’t stick around for a proper fight.” She eyed the spear coated in her blood, then tossed it aside. “Another Common rarity weapon! Must be why it couldn’t get too deep.”

Thomas chuckled. “I wouldn’t want to take you in a straight fight.”

“Well, you’re a Mage. That makes sense. But Defenders?” She shook her head, taking out another weapon. “So sad.”

He moved to assist, but she waved away his concern. “I’ll be fine. Nothing that [Wound Recovery] and my [Wolfblood] won’t mend. Check out your gem! It’s the last one you need.”

“I might rank up,” he said, sorely tempted.

“And that’s a good thing, yeah? We need your strength. No idea where we are.”

“I’ll be vulnerable,” he pointed out.

She flashed a fanged grin that made his heart race. “Don’t worry about that, dear Thomas. I’d die before I let something happen to you. And we both know that’d take a god throwing a mountain at me for that to happen.”

Some of that was certainly bravado, meant to encourage him in that endearing way of hers. Gwen wasn’t immortal, but she was incredibly hardy. As a natural born werewolf, she could recover from injuries that would claim most mortals.

However, her last unbound attribute was agility. His friend was only as strong as Mundane rank, just like him.

They had both been looking for a gem that would be an excellent match for one another. For example, she wasn’t at all interested in the Spider aspect gem they found. Neither was Thomas.

He didn’t fancy having an aspect skill that caused spider legs to sprout of out of his back. Instead, they traded it for a kindling branch with another Magi who had picked the Acolyte class.

Judging by the retinue of skeletons at her disposal, Charlie was doing well for herself. Despite still being an Acolyte, she already looked like a necromancer.

Buying an aspect seeker scroll that led to the dragon had finally solved the problem of finding their last ideal aspects.

“Did I see that correctly? Is your gem Gravity aspect?” Thomas asked, unable to help himself.

Her beautiful face lit up with joy. “Yeah. It’s a good one! Now go bind your aspect, Thomas.”

“If you’re sure…”

She nodded eagerly.

Growing excited, Thomas removed the jewel from his [Exile Storage Ring] and peered into its wondrous depths.

[Grimoire Aspect Gem]

(Aspect Item)

(Ancestral)

A distilled manifestation of Grimoire Aspect in the form of a raw gem. Ink flows beneath the rough surface, filling the channels of a labyrinthine realm captured within crystal.

Imprint: Use to bind Grimoire aspect to an attribute.

Do you wish to bind [Grimoire Aspect] to Arcane?

He confirmed his choice, then confirmed it again when it bothered him about whether he was sure or not.

It was perhaps one of the worst attributes to be lacking for a Mage. However, he had the luxury of being selective, just like Gwen. There were benefits to cooperating, especially with a loyal friend that contrasted his own skill set. It was easier to cover each other’s weaknesses when you weren’t constantly afraid of being backstabbed.

Besides, this aspect would become a permanent facet of his being.

Your [Arcane (Grimoire)] advances to [Copper Rank (Grade 0)].

You awaken the [Black Grimoire: Shatter] Grimoire aspect skill.

He barely had any time to examine his latest aspect skill before overwhelming power surged through his veins.

Rank Up!

You advance to Copper Rank.

You awaken greater stores of health, mana, and stamina, along with resilience against lower ranked aspects, imprints, skills, magic, and auras.

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Just as he had expected, control was taken from him. Thomas slumped over, slipping into the velvety realm of sleep.

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“Yeah, guess we were right. It does take a lot out of you to rank up.” Gwen prodded Thomas’ slumbering form on the chest. For a Mage, he was surprisingly built. What does he do? Curl stacks of those books he reads all the time?

Deep down, she needed Thomas to live. In her eyes, he was the best of the Magi. A true genius, and an upperclassman to boot.

So long as he survived, Brookmoors Academy would live on in the multiverse. Keeping him safe was going to be tricky when he picked Mage as his class.

Thomas had the physical defenses of unenchanted paper. The two of them could not be any more dissimilar.

She carefully took Thomas into her arms and carried him away from the narrow tunnel entrance. Crouching, she placed him against the far wall where monsters would have to go through her to get to him.

Brushing his golden, sweat-slicked hair out of his eyes, Gwen watched him for longer than she would ever want to admit. Shaking her head, she turned back to what she was doing and stirred the pot of stew bubbling over the campfire, then mixed in the warming [Fever Salt]. The fire mana in that salt would help to banish the cold of this frigid place.

The things that could be achieved in this new reality with [Cooking Knowledge] never ceased to amaze Gwen. Mostly because the many different flavors to be sampled were unusually delicious.

And that was especially important to her.

Natural vents in the cavern’s ceiling carried away the spindly stream of smoke from the fire. Though the ceiling was coated deeply in ice, there was no sign of it melting. It would likely take a concentrated aspect skill to melt or burrow through that.

The overpowering scent of monsters encroached upon their secluded area, smothering the savory aroma of a meal cooking. The campfire hadn’t been enough to scare the monsters away, nor the difficulty of getting to the two of them.

Gwen breathed in deeply. The Wolf aspect skill, [Insight of the Wolf], wove trails of scent through the tunnel. Sifting through them, Gwen picked up on the approximate number of enemies. It clued her into the type of monsters as well, and it even fuzzily suggested how strong they were.

It was a lot of information to work through, and not entirely accurate. It was easier when she focused on only one facet of what [Insight of the Wolf] was telling her. Maybe if this aspect skill was a higher Grade, using it would be less overwhelming and draining.

However, Gwen was not familiar with this family of monsters. Some sort of cavern dwellers, more suited to crawling and climbing rocky surfaces than roaming under the open sky.

They smelled like Copper rank monsters.

Frowning, Gwen pushed a boulder into the entrance, then coated her hands in ice and snow from Winter aspect’s [Frostbringer]. She froze over the boulder, sealing it in place as best as she could.

This would be a battle of attrition, and not an easy one. A Mundane rank Brawler against a bunch of Copper rank monsters wasn’t a gamble she would normally take.

While she was strong and resilient, Gwen was best suited to working in a group. Rather unexpectedly, she had grown to rely on Thomas. The things he could do with ritual magic greatly elevated their comfort and survivability.

A monster slammed into the boulder, causing a deep crack to split the stone down the middle. She got one good look at that monster’s mole-like face and didn’t want to wait for it to get through.

She raised the [Chain of Atlas], standing to her full six-and-a-half-foot height. Spinning the ball of metal overhead, she engaged its combat art, [Weight of the Stars]. Its weight intensified, straining the limits of her Primal aspected strength.

Gwen slammed the [Chain of Atlas] into the boulder and the monster beyond, crushing them both. This Guilt-ridden chain from Lormar was immensely useful. Though that monster had been Mundane, so it wasn’t too tough to defeat.

Glowing runes filtered through the dust and debris. She didn’t bother to loot the body of the monster. Instead, she dragged it into the entrance and froze it over again with [Frostbringer].

It would only be a temporary measure. However, forcing the monsters to take longer to get to them would ration Gwen’s vital resources. Using the chain took up a lot of stamina.

The limitations of a Mundane body were rough.

She sighed. “I hope these monsters offer tastier meat.”

----------------------------------------

Almace trudged through the oily muck coating the ledge overlooking a bottomless pit shrouded in seeping reddish gloom. The difficult terrain pulled and sucked on his boots like muddy quicksand, slowing him down considerably.

The Defender kept his kite shield ready as he scanned the pitted walls for more of those strange, mutated monsters.

As his group’s lone Archivist, he was the first line of defense. Even before the uplift into this multiverse, he was traditionally trained in medieval weaponry. Back at Brookmoors, he woefully lacked the magical aptitude to become a Magi. However, he possessed the martial prowess to earn his place as an Archivist.

His Acolyte leader was excellent at keeping out of sight when she needed to. So long as she stayed standing, she could rescue the rest of them when the danger passed. Though, that was only if things were truly dire.

And it was starting to seem that way. They needed a way out of this place. Wherever the dragon deposited them was incredibly hostile.

At least the mythical creature had been kind enough to keep his small group together. Almace would have been truly lost without his companions.

Mad, bubbling laughter echoed from deeper within the underground complex. This place had the remnant infrastructure of an old mine. Rails snaked through the passages, with toppled mine carts and broken pickaxes strewn about.

Various areas were only partially excavated, though it was hard to tell. The mines had been consumed by this tarry substance. Something that Charlie revealed to be Putrescence aspect.

Not all aspects were made equal. And this one resembled a disease.

The mad fiends stepped out of the shadows, lured by the temptation of an easy target. Whatever these two were, they used to be ordinary people. It was impossible to tell whether they were from Lormar or Earth.

Though it would be an easy assumption to make that they were from Lormar. Those sorts were infamous for dabbling in dark magic.

The one with the masculine shape reached a clawed hand forward. His rictus grin stretched from ear to ear. His bald head burned in a wreathing, sickly flame.

Suspecting that it was an aspect skill being wielded against him, Almace charged forward, his sluggish speed boosted by [Bull Rush], his class combat art.

Aspect Skill: [Putrescence Infestation]

He slipped past the wet glob of dark liquid, and crashed into the man, toppling him to the ground.

His body seeped beneath the tarry surface, disappearing.

Almace desperately stomped through the liquid, trying to find the man before he could attack him again. Running wasn’t an option here. He needed to secure safe passage. He wasn’t going to let his companions get hurt by these people.

The other one, with a feminine shape, mirrored the man’s rictus grin with unnerving accuracy. There was something deeply wrong with both of them. She raised a filth-coated hand to Almace.

He reacted too slow. As a rule, he tried his best not to fight women. It was something Charlie often chastised him for.

That deeply held belief cost him dearly.

The Putrescence aspect splashed past his kite shield and poured down his arm, coating the limb in mind breaking pain.

Aspect Skill: [Balefog]

The spectral glow of [Balefog] swirled and eddied across the oily substance coating the ground, beginning to burn it away. Through the haze of agony that was crawling through his veins, he saw that the fiend was being scared off by [Balefog].

Aspect Skill: [Beyond Death]

Then, the skull of [Beyond Death] lanced into the woman’s weapon, engulfing it entirely and erupting into an aspected explosion when it collided into her arm.

“Eye for an eye!” Charlie shouted, moved to fury.

The fiend, eyes wild with fear, scurried away.

Almace toppled to his back, staring up at the ceiling as his companions gathered around.

“Oh, Almace,” she said, uncharacteristically stricken with grief. “What have they done to you?”

The balm of healing went out, but he could tell it wouldn’t be enough.

Even with Life Aspect, there were some scars that couldn’t be erased.