“It won’t work.” Rhys whispered from the crawlspace below the library, scaring the shit out of me, but I managed to remain still and expressionless.

“Elaborate.” I said.

“Dungeons work under a different set of laws. Whatever you do within it, won’t stick.” Rhys said.

“Creating a fortified position for a later delve is meaningless since the dungeon sort of resets.” I said calmly. I can’t deny I was a little annoyed by such news.

“Precisely.” Rhys said.

“And if someone stays there?” I tentatively asked.

“Alone in a dungeon full of rats that might crawl out of every corner in droves?” Rhys said. It didn’t sound like a question at all.

“You got a point.” I said while sighing. “Well, I’m going to stick with the gators then. I will think about how to deal with dungeons later.”

“Wise. Although I don’t think there’s a way to deal with dungeons like that.” Rhys said. “I asked the system about it. It called it a ‘rule’ derived from a ‘law’ and whatnot. Something to do with the flow of time and space within another layer of reality or some bullshit like that.”

“I see.” I said, already considered the way the system most likely phrase it.

“You do know that the system won’t let you mess with its rules, right?” Rhys asked.

“Not sure. I don’t even know what these ‘rules’ or ‘laws’ actually mean.”

“Nether do I.” Rhys sighed. “But if the damn thing can merge words and set the flow of time within different instances to favor growth and resource generation, I don’t think it will budge.”

“True.” I said. Arranging the cart pieces in a neat pile. They will remain here, for now.

Rhys was most likely right. The system won’t allow its ‘rules’ or ‘laws’ or whatever to be broken. It will probably deal rather harshly with those who dare try. If such a thing is even possible.

And that’s why you shouldn’t try breaking rules. Just find a little, and fully exploitable, loophole.

I got down to the crawlspace, but Rhys was already gone. Or so it seems. Maybe he has some kind of stealth skill and whatnot. It would make sense. He did mention his flaw perception helping with ambushes and stealth would work well with it for a rogue or crit build. Whatever.

I returned to the camp, where the others were still working on the meat. The air was filled with the savory smell of roasting alligator, and the mood was light and jovial.

We gathered around the fire, sharing stories and laughter. I sensed the air of camaraderie. These people, these strangers, as my allies, my companions in this strange new world. It felt nice. But also somewhat fake.

It was a nice night. Make no mistake. But there was no mention of their other gifts or even their intentions regarding the future. The group is after shards, to improve, but… to what end?

Sure, they might be as lost as I am. I need to ask a ton of things to this greedy system. But they just spent over three hundred shards just to make it in here. And that means they think they already have enough information to handle it. Maybe they do. Probably not.

And they sure haven’t shared nearly enough to make me see things from their perspective.

They never talked about where they heard rumors, from who or their encounters with other people. I don’t even know where they came from, how they came together or what difficulties they faced. They talked a lot, but didn’t actually say much. Generic information over generic topics. Useful, sure, but ultimately meaningless for someone stuck in the same instance from the start.

After dinner I returned to my tiny chamber. My makeshift shield worked as a makeshift door. I didn’t sleep very well. Or at least I think I didn’t, since morning came quickly nonetheless.

As the group busied themselves with the gruesome task of processing the alligator carcasses, my mind wandered. I observed their abilities, their “gifts” from the System, and considered what I might choose for myself when I had enough spirit shards. I wasn’t a fighter, that much was clear. My strengths lay in planning, in strategy, in finding efficient solutions to complex problems.

But at the same time I did want to fight. Perhaps trying something completely different would be very fun. Let someone else do the thinking for a change. Yeah, not happening. Fighting is fine, but there’s no way I will let anyone else make decisions for me, not unless said person is very convincing.

While contemplating these thoughts, an amusing idea sparked in my mind. I needed to test a theory, and for that, I required Finn’s unique ability.

“Finn,” I called out, beckoning him over. “Could you walk with me for a moment? I want to see if something I’m thinking about will work. I could use your… expertise.”

Finn looked up, a curious expression on his face. The rest of the group, sensing something interesting was about to happen, followed us as we walked towards the base of the massive redwood.

“What’s up, Vincent?” Finn asked as we reached the tree.

“I want to see your arrow creation skill in action,” I said, gesturing to the trunk. “Could you create an arrow for me?”

Finn nodded and placed his hand on the rough bark. The trunk shimmered slightly, the wood distorting as if something was moving beneath the surface. An arrow began to protrude from the tree, seemingly growing directly from the wood. The tip of the arrow was still connected to the bark by a thin thread of wood.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

Finn then simply pulled the arrow out, the connection snapping easily. He handed it to me, a perfectly crafted arrow, as if it had been made by a skilled fletcher.

I smiled. “Impressive,” I said. “Now, could you do another one? But this time…” I pointed to a spot higher up the trunk, about chest height. “Do it there.”

Finn looked slightly confused but complied, placing his hand on the designated spot. The wood shimmered again, and another arrow began to emerge.

When the arrow was about halfway out, I stopped him. “That’s enough,” I said.

Finn froze, his hand still on the tree, his face a mask of confusion. The arrow remained half-protruding, as if the tip was still within the trunk.

I watched it for a moment, observing the connection between the arrow and the tree. The wood didn’t recede, it didn't disappear, it didn't return to the tree. It just… stayed there.

I punched Finn lightly on the shoulder. “Awesome,” I said.

Finn scratched his head, still utterly perplexed. I looked back at the rest of the group, expecting them to understand my train of thought. But surprisingly, they looked just as confused as Finn.

“People,” I said, gesturing towards the tree and the unfinished arrow. “I don’t make a habit of living in sewers. We’re going to get ourselves the biggest treehouse ever.”

I pointed to the half-protruding arrow. “This,” I said, “is the first piece of the first step of the ladder that might lead us up there.” I then pointed upwards, to where the massive trunk split into several thick branches, forming a natural platform high above the ground.

“And guess what?” I said, a grim smile spreading across my face. “These gators are shitty climbers.”

I looked at Finn again. “You,” I said, pointing at him, “can do this single-handedly while I trap gators and the others hunt rats.”

The others looked at me, then back at Finn, then back at the tree. A slow dawning of understanding spread across their faces. Wry smiles began to appear.

Gareth, their leader, muttered under his breath, “And we were taking unnecessary risks sleeping on the ground this whole time?”

Finn blushed slightly. “In my defense,” he stammered, “I never considered stopping my skill midway and leaving it in the tree like this. I make arrows. That’s all the skill said I could do…”

Gareth smiled and sighed. “Yeah… and it took Vincent two hours after hearing about that to come up with a shelter solution that can be used, well, anywhere we find a big enough tree or a bunch of them together…”

Finn turned his head as if looking for something far more interesting elsewhere, clearly trying to avoid further comments.

I grinned. “Really awesome,” I repeated, pleased with my idea.

The implications were clear. Finn could create an endless supply of wooden protrusions from the tree, creating a ladder, a platform, even a full-fledged treehouse, high above the reach of any ground-based predators.

The group began to discuss the possibilities, their initial confusion replaced by excitement. They talked about the design of the treehouse, the best way to secure it, the view we would have from up there. But no one asked me to take a look at another of their gifts.

Seeing Finn’s ability in action made some of my decisions easier. I sort of knew what I wanted from the system and Finn’s arrow creation was proof enough that was within the system’s capabilities. But I had a lot of things to check before making that decision. Lots of questions.

A well ‘crafted’ ability would simplify everything, making seemingly insurmountable tasks almost trivial, especially when combined with the skills of others. Not that I had any intention of making my own ‘gift’ something complementary to them.

Sure, I didn’t know the full extent of their “gifts.” They were clearly holding some back, likely things that wouldn’t have been relevant to our current situation. They certainly didn't have anything like what I had in mind, or they would have used it already.

It was time to take the plunge. I had to ask. The thought made me uncomfortable. Asking for help, especially after they had already spent so many shards on ‘my behalf’, felt… awkward. But I needed those shards. I needed this ability.

I steeled myself and approached the group. They were still busy with the alligator jerky, the air thick with the smoky scent of roasting meat.

“Guys,” I said, clearing my throat. “There’s something I wanted to ask you.”

They looked up, their expressions curious.

“I was wondering if you had any… extra spirit shards,” I asked tentatively, feeling my cheeks flush slightly. “I need to… try something with the System and to do that I need to ask it some questions… probably a lot of questions, but for now a handful would suffice. It’s about my ‘gift’, I sort of have an idea, but can’t really say if it’s available.”

A brief silence hung in the air. They exchanged glances, a subtle communication passing between them. Then, they smiled.

They knew. They knew I was going to try something… unconventional. Something… outrageous, perhaps, considering what I had been able to accomplish with so little.

“How many do you need?” Gareth asked, a twinkle in his eye.

“Not sure,” I repeated. “At least twenty to see if what I am thinking is even a possibility.”

Gareth nodded and turned to the others. “How many do we have left?”

They quickly counted their remaining shards.

“We have two hundred,” Elara announced.

Two hundred. Far more than I had asked for.

“Here,” Gareth said, handing me a small pouch filled with the shimmering crystals. “Take them. All of them, excluding the seventy we will need to leave.”

I looked at the pouch, my eyes wide with disbelief. “Are you sure?” I asked. “This is… a lot.”

“We’re confident in you, Vincent,” Gareth said, clapping me on the shoulder. “We know you’ll pick something… interesting.”

“And you might need to ‘talk it out’ with the System,” Elara added, winking. “We each spent at least twenty to forty shards just getting the details right before settling on our gifts.”

“You should be extra cautious,” Bronwyn said, her tone serious. “You seem to be… well, extra cautious. It will be useful.”

I smiled slightly. They were right. I was cautious. It was in my nature. And in this world, caution was a valuable asset.

“I’ll pay you back,” I said, my voice sincere. “With interest.”

Gareth chuckled. “That only applies if you pick a shitty ability that doesn’t help us at all,” he said. “We will get it all back from the rats and lizards either way.”

I smiled again. “Fair enough,” I replied.

With the pouch of shards in hand, I excused myself and headed off to find a quiet place. I needed to focus, to concentrate on what I wanted. This was perhaps the most important decision I had made in my immediate future.

I got back to my tiny chamber, a short dead end away from the main thoroughfare. The air was still cool, but the noise and the smell of roasting meat were significantly less intense.

I sat down on the concrete floor, emptying the pouch of shards into my lap. The crystals shimmered in the dim light. Two hundred shards. It was a significant amount. More than enough to experiment, to fine-tune my potential request to the System.

I took a deep breath, closing my eyes. I needed to visualize what I wanted, to clearly define the parameters of my desired ability. This wasn’t just about getting an ability; it was about shaping my future, about giving myself the tools I needed to survive and thrive in this new world.

I focused on the image of Finn creating arrows from the tree. It wasn't about creating arrows, though. It was about manipulating the very fabric of the world around me. It was about control.

I opened my eyes, my gaze fixed on the shimmering shards in my lap. I knew what I wanted. I knew what I needed.

I was ready to talk to the System.