The skill trapped in Edge’s mouth squirmed like a living creature. It darted from one side to the other in a frantic attempt to escape.

He could sense that it was still wild. Untamed. Unrefined. That if he wanted to claim it, make it part of himself, he was going to have to break it, then bend it to his will.

It was a bizarre situation that he still only half-believed was really happening.

But Edge didn’t have time to process. To ponder, think, or understand. He’d be dead within seconds if he didn’t complete the procedure that the core smoldering inside him, Skill-Eater, had begun.

In that moment, the skill almost burst free from his lips, slipping out halfway before he brought one hand up to his mouth and shoved it back inside. Before it could get away or slide down his throat and choke him, Edge cast his hesitation aside and started to chew.

He brought his teeth together on top of the skill, tearing off a piece before the rest got away.

It was vibrant and vital and oh so alive. It tasted like blood pumping strong in his veins. Of his organs working in perfect harmony. Of sundered tissue knitting itself back together. Getting knocked down and standing back up again.

Having gotten a bite, Edge could tell what the skill did by rolling its essence across his palate. The skill tasted like health because it was health, or more specifically, healing. It was a skill that could repair shredded flesh and restore damaged organs. Even create new blood if given enough time. Not to mention, the most delicious thing that had ever passed through his lips.

Now certain that salvation lay trapped between his jaws, he gave into his hunger and kept right on chewing, breaking the skill down one chomp at a time.

It kept wriggling and regenerating, dying and being reborn every time that Edge brought his teeth together. It seemed the skill was healing itself too, acting in accordance with its nature.

Eating regeneration was by far the strangest experience of his life. Weird in a way that was beyond the power of words to convey.

It also presented him with an unexpected problem. The possibility that he would be stuck chewing forever, or at least until he bled out and died.

But then he noticed that the skill had begun growing weaker over the last few bites. It stopped fighting back, no longer able to resist his assault. A bit more chewing and it went still at last, dissolving into a liquid that he could sense was ready to be digested.

Under other circumstances, Edge might have entertained doubts. Thought twice about what he was about to do. But not now, when he was teetering on the brink of death.

Thus, instead of hesitating, with the last of his strength, he braced himself and swallowed.

The pureed skill slid down his throat. A ball of electricity gliding down, and down, and down. Instead of heading into his stomach like everything else he’d eaten before, this time, the stuff kept right on going. It flowed past his belly, into a space that hadn’t existed within his body until a few minutes ago.

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Edge felt his core quiver in anticipation as the skill entered its domain, vibrating behind his ribs. Skill-Eater engulfed the strange substance, like a starving dog tearing into a pile fresh meat. It began digesting the skill it had stolen, until its essence was ready to be absorbed.

When it was done, a notification appeared in front of his eyes.

You have extracted the skill: Regeneration [limited] (uncommon, rank 2).

Digestion is complete.

When extracting a skill higher than rank 1, a portion of its experience will be retained if you choose to keep it.

Would you like to slot regeneration now?

Warning: the skill will be lost if this option is declined.

“Yes. Fucking yes. Do it now!”

By now, the world had begun growing dim once again. But then a strange thing happened.

When he spoke those words, Edge was drawn into his own core. He found himself standing inside a dimly lit room, facing a massive furnace with a row of six alcoves set into one side. Somehow, he was certain that the furnace was his reactor. The place where magicytes were consumed to create refined mana.

The recesses were his skill sockets. Conduits that let his skills absorb the mana released by the reactor and change its nature, giving his magic physical form. In one of the alcoves sat a small stone statue of a man holding a sword, which he could sense was the manifestation of his skill slash.

Across from the reactor was a large brass tank. The reservoir that held the magicytes Edge absorbed from the environment until they were ready to be burned. Even now, he could feel them flowing in from outside, passing through tiny pores that his core had seared into his skin.

His newly claimed skill flowed over to an empty socket, locking into place with a hearty click. It took the form of a beating heart, like the one that he had stolen from the big man’s core. Although this version looked smaller, like it had lost some of its power when changing owners.

Knowing that he was only seconds away from bleeding out, he willed regeneration to activate.

Edge watched magicytes flow out from his reservoir and into his reactor, far more magic than he’d ever had inside him before. They entered Skill-Eater and became its fuel, releasing an incredible discharge of mana.

Power coursed within his core, flowing freely until it encountered that beating heart.

When the mana entered it, the skill surged to life, altering the frequency of the magic before sending it coursing through his body. Out toward the ragged gashes in his stomach and the stumps where his fingers used to be.

Now that he had digested regeneration, he found himself back in the temple. The entire experience had taken place in less than the blink of an eye.

Body thrumming with mana, Edge felt a curious sliding sensation. He looked down in shock as his guts began pulling themselves back inside his stomach, living tissue casting off the dirt and debris stuck to it before heading over to where it belonged. When everything was back to where it was supposed to be, his torso began sealing itself up.

He watched in awe as his organs and nerves, his muscles and veins, started sewing themselves back together. The severed fibers reached out to each other, grabbed hold, then pulled tight. His skin was last, and when it finished regenerating, not even a scar remained where the shadowreaver’s claws had torn him asunder.

He glanced down at his hand when it began to itch. The wounds closed and scabbed over, like they’d happened weeks ago instead of mere minutes. Edge waited patiently, eager to learn if his fingers would grow back too.

Before he had the chance to find out, his reserves ran dry, as the last of his magicytes were burned to stop the bleeding. When the mana stopped flowing, regeneration became dormant and his reactor began to cool, returning to a passive state.

But it flared right back to life when he turned his gaze toward the tall convict. The man whose elemental blade had destroyed Edge’s hand.

Now that his flesh was whole once more, Skill-Eater was ready to claim the power it had noticed earlier.

It was time to start the second course.