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Tales of the Omniverse 1: The Founding of Mortlake City
Tales of the Omniverse 7: the entwined fates of Akina and Malkiduma

Tales of the Omniverse 7: the entwined fates of Akina and Malkiduma

Akina was the happiest she had ever been.

She ran alongside her mother, father, and the twenty other members of the Wakimbiaji band that was her extended family. They had been running all morning through the savannah, heading towards the biggest event of her short life.

Since the day of the Ngwarekuu, when the world changed and the System talked for the first time, the savannah had been bountiful, making life easier for her and her people. As modern society crumbled in the so-called civilised countries, they had been pretty safe deep in the grasslands of Africa. The number of her people grew every passing year, increasing the strength of the bands and their hold over the valleys and the highlands. They occasionally clashed with other tribes over food and treasures, but nothing a good duel couldn't resolve.

Thanks to the System, they had gained a better understanding of their places in the world and the Omniverse–as the System called the world they now lived in.

Her people, the Hazda tribe, gathered every three new moons to discuss and coordinate their population growth and the land they needed to range to support all the bands. It was also a time of teaching and reckoning when the elder taught the young boys and girls about the new world and how to use the System's gifts to bolster the strength of the bands and the tribe. Most importantly, the Hazda took that time to welcome two kinds of new members in their midst.

First, there would be those chosen by the System to enter adulthood and gain access to their types, classes and skills. Second, and the most important in Akina's young eyes, would be the reckoning of the new Epeme, the best hunters of the Hazda tribe.

Like all the tribe kids, she had been taught everything she needed to know for when her #Display would unlock. Right now, she only had access to the most basic information about herself, the #journal, the #map and about twenty per cent of the entries available inside the #OBase. She was on the verge of entering adulthood and gaining access to all the tabs in her #Display, and she couldn't wait to choose her type and class and receive her skills. She secretly hoped it would happen at this gathering and had been calling on Ishoko's blessing and luck every morning for the last seven days.

Akina kept daydreaming about the type she would choose as she ran effortlessly alongside her extended family, following the hunters as she dodged the lashing tall bushes, the traitorous quicksands and all the other natural traps that had changed the familial African landscape forever. Thanks to Ishoko, Akina was tall for her thirteen years of age, reaching one metre eighty. She looked like a dark blue liana, hardened and lithe at the same time, with taunt muscles rolling under her skin as she used all her physical aptitudes to keep up with the forehunters. She wore simple clothes of tanned buffalo skin to cover her groins and chest, and she ran barefoot, as was the custom. The only other item she carried was a bone knife strapped to her leg–an early present from her mother to celebrate her soon-to-be entrance into womanhood. The same mother that was leading the hunters twenty metres in front of her. Amana was the best huntress of the Wakimbiaji, and Akina hoped to be allowed by the System to follow in her footsteps.

Akina wanted to become a Supporter type so she could choose a hunter path. To maximise her chances of the System offering that type and path, she had trained relentlessly with her mother and the other hunters for the past two years. She had learned to forage, scavenge, track and pursue her prey. She had practised throwing hunting spears and sparred in the defensive knife-fighting style that was her people's signature, for the Hazda's tradition was to use knives only to defend yourself or to skin and cut the meat of your kills. In short, she was as ready as she would ever be.

She kept smiling as her anticipation grew with each passing moment.

Suddenly, her mother raised a hand, calling the band to stop dead in their tracks. In unison, they all knelt and used the tall grass to hide themselves as best as possible. Everyone stayed silent as chirps, whistles, and hand signals followed while her mama explained to the hunters that there were signs of a large gnu roaming in front of them. Akina didn't catch the whole conversation, but it seemed it was a lone beast that had strayed from his herd. It was too good an opportunity to pass up for the Wakimbiaji. Killing that gnu would bring meat and skin and sustain the band for another two or three days.

Akina smothered her annoyance at the delay it implied–it meant they would get to the tribe's gathering in the middle of the night and miss the first festivities. Still, she knew her duty and called on the seven children of the band to get closer so she could protect them. Akina was not an Epeme yet, so she wasn't called to the hunt. Her task was to stay with the three elders to guard the children, the future of the band.

In a few heartbeats, twelve hunters vanished into the tall grass in utter silence. Akina stayed alert, moving silently around to get a better view of the perimeter around them. Her group was standing inside an island of tall grass surrounded by paths of dirt and empty, dry river beds. There was a small rise of rocks further west from their position that she didn't like because the sun blinded her when she tried to look at it. She signalled to the elders that she would be moving to get a better view, as a mix of instinct and training told her it wouldn't do to leave a blind spot unchecked.

Akina made sure to be quiet and leave the spades unmoving as her bare sole secured a silent and solid footing inside the grass island. Her hackles were raised, and she didn't like that. She started wondering how a lone gnu would have isolated himself from the herd like that. It could be an old one left behind or a young one lured away through its own distraction. Finally, another possibility came to her mind. The gnu could have been chased away by another predator.

Ever since the great awakening of Ngwarekuu, both predators and prey of the grasslands had become stronger, wiser and substantially harder to kill. It suited the Hazda fine since they also had become more cunning and better equipped to deal with their natural environment, taking to life under the System as hippopotamuses to riverbeds.

Akina put those thoughts in the background as she finally found a spot with a better view of the rise that bothered her. She slowly released her breath like her mom taught her, focusing on seeing without looking. It was a method that allowed her to quickly check for the inconspicuous. After twenty seconds of thorough yet passive search, she regained focus and narrowed her attention on a particular spot in the shadow of two big rocks resting one over the other. She was certain to have seen a fur-spotted paw before it retracted deeper into the shadow.

When she looked again, there was nothing. Yet, her instincts screamed something dangerous lurked there. She used the secret Hazda hunting language to convey her findings to the elders. Shortly, they answered with a sequence of chirps and whistles, telling her to investigate further while they secured the little ones. Such was the way of the band. Unless you were a kid, you pulled your weight and helped the people survive to see another day.

Akina scanned the area to try and find a route that would quickly take her to the rising rocks and keep her out of sight from whatever hid there. She checked one of the dry river beds and gauged it deep enough to hide her most of the way. The young girl gripped her spear, made sure her knife was still secured to her leg, and then moved. She dashed like a ranger with a steady foot and a keen eye, leaving no traces of her passage behind her. She was silent like a ghost of the plains as she quickly approached her objective. Akina felt her heartbeat increase in her chest as her muscles got tenser and adrenaline pumped into her body in anticipation of the coming confrontation.

While Akina practically flew, she knew she would have to battle when she got there. Life in the grasslands for her people was a constant fight against nature and its denizens. As a proud member of the Hazda tribe, she accepted this life. Better yet, she embraced it. She believed deep in her heart that she was born to hunt and to provide for her people. She reached the back of the rocky hump and finally got a good view of what lay motionless in the shadows. A cheetah. It didn't appear to be an adult, which gave Akina an edge. The young cheetah would be inexperienced and easier to kill.

Keeping the initiative, she threw her spear with as much force and speed as she could muster. Akina aimed true, thanks to hundreds of hours of training, and the spear penetrated deep inside the cub's hindleg. She didn't wait and charged right after. Akina covered the remaining distance in four heartbeats, using the full strength of her teenage muscles to jump the last metres and land right next to her mewing and spitting target. She already had her bone knife out, and she pounced on the disoriented cat, stabbing it clean in the neck. Akina then used her body to weigh down on the trashing feline and kept stabbing from the neck to the stomach. In less than ten heartbeats, the cub was dead under her. She felt satisfaction swell up inside her, and before it could explode and make her do something stupid, like roar to the sky like the lioness she had just become, she grabbed the corpse and brought it back towards her charge.

The corpse was heavier than she anticipated and hampered her movement. She grabbed the fur and pulled and dragged it until she finally reached the island that was their refuge. Akina's grin faltered when she saw the elder's expression. They were grim and disappointed. She was confused.

***

"What have you done, mwana?" Asked her mother in a frustrated voice when she returned from the hunt twenty minutes later.

Half the hunting band had followed her to protect the young and the elders on their way to the kill site, where they would make themselves useful by cutting and skinning the kill while some would forage for roots and berries.

"I killed the cheetah to protect the band, mama," Akina answered solemnly, even more confused than before.

"What danger did it pose to the band, exactly?" Amana asked, frowning.

Akina thought long and hard before answering. Her mother was not in the habit of idle chat and empty questions, and she was certainly trying to teach her something with this seemingly simple question. She racked her brain to recall the encounter. Her instinct had told her of a threat lurking by the rocks. She had moved to investigate, and upon seeing the cheetah, she had acted without thinking, charging and killing the cub quickly. If she was honest with herself, there hadn't been an immediate threat, just a feeling of a possible danger.

Following that train of thought, a new understanding dawned on her as to why the elders and her mother didn't praise her for the kill. Because it had been uncalled for. She hadn't killed to feed or protect the band. She had killed to prove she could. To satisfy her need to be seen as an adult before the gathering. In hindsight, Akina realised it had been a mistake. Her shoulders sagged as the heavy weight of her error settled neatly in place. The smile disappeared.

"Good. I'm glad you understand, penzi," Amana said when she saw her daughter's reaction. "Our people have prospered in this new world because of our ancient traditions. Our tribe has lived in harmony with nature since the dawn of time." Amana knelt and put her hands on Akina's shoulders, looking straight into her daughter's eyes. "We don't kill for sport or glory. We only kill to feed and protect ourselves. And, when we do, we settle for the adult and older beasts, not the young. Because if we kill the young today, what will we kill tomorrow?"

"I understand," Akina answered, tears welling up in her eyes. "I'm sorry, mama, I thought there was danger in the rocks..."

She couldn't talk anymore, and she cried, burying her face into her mom's chest. Amana held her daughter without a word, slowly stroking her back as the teenager let it all out. When Akina was done, mother and daughter were alone inside the grass island. The rest of the tribe had moved to the kill site and got to work during this teaching moment.

"I trust you learned your lesson, Akina?" Amana asked while the teenager wiped her wet cheeks to clear the tears. "When we get to the gathering tonight, you will make an offering to Ishoko. Until then, this cheetah is yours to skin and butcher. Grab the legs. We will take it to where the others are."

Akina nodded her understanding. She was sad for the cub, but she had faith that Ishoko would look into her heart and find that she had not killed out of malice but out of ignorance. She will wear her new cheetah outfit proudly to honour the beast's memory, too.

Soon, mother and daughter were running side by side, grinning as they enjoyed the shared instant of unity with the savannah and the soft caress of the sun and the wind on their warm, ebony skins.

***

A few kilometres further in the grassland, an old cheetah hunted to feed the cub she had left hidden in the shadows of a small hump of rocks.

Every time it occurred, she worried something would happen to her cub, but such was the way of her kin. Her mother had done as she did now, leaving the cheetah and her brothers and sisters to fend for themselves in her absence. Nature had been cruel, and the cheetah ended up the only surviving cub of her litter. In one fateful cycle, she had lost one brother and one sister to the claws and fangs of the savannah's predators and scavengers. Since then, she had been carrying a seed of sadness and regret in her heart. A seed that grew as the cycles came and went. She feared the day when its weight would make movement impossible. When that day came, the cheetah would lie down and die.

She stopped that line of thought and came back to the present. Today was not a good day for the hunt. She hadn't found any prey easily overpowered. Gnus and antelopes stuck together more so than usual. The few lingerers were quickly snatched up by lionesses and leopards hunting within the same area. The various scavengers then took what was left of the carcasses. Her talent lay in speed and agility, not in raw fighting power. There were also the scavengers hunting in packs, like those stupid striped hyenas, that would harass her and trick her until they could steal her meal right from under her nose.

The cheetah was hungry and tired as the midday sun rose above the savannah. She decided to return to her cub and move to another part of the grassland where she would find prey more easily. She travelled through the tall grass at a slow pace, preserving her strength for the rest of the day. She instinctively knew the cub, and she would have to range all afternoon before they could find another water hole that would attract potential prey.

When the cheetah finally reached the rising rocks, she smelled the metallic scent of blood. Something was terribly wrong. She could feel it in her bones. Her worst fear was confirmed when she swiftly landed on top of the shadowed rock and didn't see her cub waiting for her. The smell of humans was overwhelming in the air, and she instantly understood her cub had died at their hands. A great sadness took over her heart and clouded her eyes. She was an old female who knew the cub had been her last. Covering the sadness was the guilt of never being able to rear any of her cubs to adulthood. She had failed her cub and her kin.

The feeling of shame explained why she only saw the king scorpion's attack at the last moment. The giant bug had come from under the rocks, and his poisoned stinger managed to scratch her hindleg before she could entirely dodge. A powerful tremor ran through her body, stopping her heart to the point she thought she would die here and there. She watched the king scorpion approach with his oversized pincer on each side of its stupid head as she desperately tried to get her paralysed hindlegs moving. The bug was being cautious since the cheetah hadn't died right away from the poison shock.

For one brief moment, the cheetah looked up to the sky as she laid on her back. She realised it was the first time in her life she took the time to do so. Her feline nature had never given her an instant to herself to enjoy the vast azure expanse. There had always been cubs to feed and protect, prey to hunt, other predators to escape. There had never been time for anything else other than running. She felt her seed of sadness swell in her chest. And, behind the sadness, she felt something else slowly rising. A stronger, deeper emotion she had never really felt before.

Outrage.

After all she had done and been through, her life was going to end at the pincers of a stupid bug half her size. She refused that end. Next to her righteous anger ran the feeling of rebellion. The cheetah refused to go down silently. She would fight and take the silly bug with her, showing her kin that cheetahs could become more than what they were. They would know of her last stand through the grapevine of the grassland. Many small animals would be watching. They would carry words of what happened there today. Having made her peace with her plan and incoming demise, the cheetah decided to play dead, slowing her breathing to lure the king scorpion as close as possible.

Thankfully, the stupid bug obliged, revelling in his cunning and hunting prowess. The king scorpion had known the cheetah would return to find her cub killed and gone. He knew she would be disoriented, and that would be the moment he could strike and kill her to become stronger and fiercer. He approached its kill confidently, bringing his carapaced head close to the cheetah's face. If the king scorpion had a mouth, he would smile in triumph. The insect had just realised the impossible. It had successfully ambushed and killed a warm-blooded beast. A feat for the ages to come.

His triumph only lasted for the next few seconds before the cheetah opened her eyes and mouth wide to bite down on its head with all the force she could muster. Her thick, sharp fangs punched through the carapace to skewer the silly bug's pea-sized brain. In its death thrall, the king scorpion's reflex snapped its stinger sharply down and pierced the cheetah's eye, bringing its poisonous payload directly into her brain.

In a rare occurrence in the grasslands, both beasts died simultaneously, embracing each other and leaving behind their remains, among which pulsed their cores. None of the other creatures in the vicinity dared to approach the two beasts for fear of death. When the bodies finally disappeared, they left behind the ragged cores, which, by a stroke of chance, fate or bad luck, ended up rolling towards each other to ultimately collide under the last ray of light.

What followed was momentous for the Omniverse. A new being came to life.

Both stones merged, fusing the cheetah's bright, tawny-hued core with the dark brown shade of the king scorpion's core. It resulted in an explosion of Mana, whose outgoing wave flattened the grass for fifty metres around the epicentre. Silence followed as all the small creatures fled the scene in fear of the newly born Chimera. Chimera were dangerous creatures that had started spawning ever since the Seeding took place and turned Earth into Pangea. They originated with the Elementals, who represented the quintessence of the Omniverse's principles. Elementals were all about fire, rain, wind, earth, etc... while Chimera was the name used for all the other aspects of life that could be found in the Omniverse, from talents to emotions.

This particular Chimera combined the cheetah's anger and the scorpion's thirst for power, thus creating a beast of Craving whose mere presence instilled dread in the neighbouring biodiversity. It had a long, tawny-hued body covered in thin, armoured chitin with four legs terminated by dark, serrated claws. Two sinuous arms ending with menacingly sharp pincers emerged from the back of the Chimera, right above the forelegs. It bore a two-metre-long tail ending with a heavy stinger it could use to pierce or crush its enemy. Finally, its head had no mouth or nostrils–only two murderous eyes constantly scanning and searching for prey to satiate its desire.

Chimeras and Elementals shared the same obsession with growing in size and power until they could dominate an entire area and challenge others of their kin. For long moments, the Chimera revelled in the strength and agility of its new body. Steel-like flesh rolled under the subtle yet impregnable chitin covering its entire body. True to its nature, the Craving Chimera launched into a killing frenzy, hunting all the creatures in the area to ingest their core and become more powerful. By the time the Wakimbiaji band reached the Hazda gathering later that night, the Chimera had gone from level one to level twenty, nurturing its instinctive talents for ambushing and fighting in the process. All along, the creature was driven by one simple emotion: retribution.

The Chimera would track down the humans responsible for the death of its cub, kill them and eat their core. Then, it would conquer the grasslands and kill the various rivals it could feel roaming the land. Nothing would stand on its path to power.

***

The prompt suddenly appeared in front of Akina's eyes as she and her mom arrived at the site where the hunting party had killed the gnu. The elders were already hard at work cutting and skinning while the alert hunters watched the children foraging the nearby brushes for berries and roots.

"Mama, I just received the prompt," she told her mother with a bright smile on her face. "What should I do?"

Amana didn't answer right away. First, she checked the sun's position in the sky to estimate the available time before the band would need to move again, then their surroundings, scanning for possible threats and dangers. They had to be careful because once the process started, the participant could not stop until he or she was finished, no matter what happened in their environment. If the band were to be attacked while Akina was lost in her induction trance, she wouldn't be able to move, and worse, she could very well be injured or killed. After five long minutes of pregnant silence, her mother relented and nodded her approval. The teenager imagined herself pushing the Y letter floating before her.

She looked over her unlocked #Display, stunned by the beauty and simplicity of it all. After thirteen years of living in the dark, she was finally given the System's light. This was a glorious day for Akina. She would savour every detail and remember it for the rest of her life. She looked at her attributes, remembering her teachings.

It hadn't taken humanity long to decipher what they represented. Might, Vitality and Agility depicted the physical aptitudes of the originator. Most texts accessible inside the #OBase called this the Body aspect. Insight, Memory and Perception were the Spirit aspect. Charisma, Willpower and Fortune were the Soul aspect. Health and Mana were secondary attributes derived from your primary attributes, type, and path.

From the countless experience logs recorded and shared in the #OBase, most originators started with a total sum of seventy-five to a hundred and ten attribute points unequally distributed among the nine primaries. Ten was the average starting value for any given attribute. The lowest recorded was five, and the highest was fifteen. With her ninety-two starting attribute points, Akina's were a cut above the norm. She couldn't wait to choose the rest and see her final starting stats. This was a promising start, especially with her 14 in Agility. She didn't know what to think of the 5 she got in Fortune since this attribute was the least documented and understood.

Some believed it was luck, plain and simple, while others hinted it could represent the place of an originator in the System's grand design for the Omniverse. Nobody knew for sure the difference between a high and a low value. The fact that it was the only attribute you couldn't increase with Reps added to the mystery surrounding Fortune. Akina couldn't care less. Whatever the truth, she would deal with it when the time came. She finally remembered to breathe and suddenly emptied her burning lungs. She put aside all this jabbering about attributes and focused on the next part.

This was the moment of truth. The System only offered five types or echoing archetypes, the official names found in the #OBase: Fighter, Breaker, Booster, Supporter, and Maker. To calm her mind while the processing took place, she went over each of them in her mind.

As the name hinted, Fighter was all about fighting everything and everyone. This echo focused on armour and defensive skills and a huge pool of health points, as a Fighter's trademark was to be the last one standing in every battle. Akina had heard some of the tribe members refer to them as "tanks" sometimes, whatever the term meant. She had searched the #OBase for a tank, and all she had found was a gigantic metallic box built on caterpillars and sprouting a long tube that could launch explosive devices called missiles at long distances. Akina couldn't envision herself running around covered head to toe in heavy metallic armour under the unforgiving African sun. Also, she loved her spears and wouldn't want to throw rockets at her targets. It felt too mechanical and technological for her tastes. She was a daughter of the grassland, first and foremost.

Depending on who you talked to, Breaker was either considered the total opposite or the ideal partner of Fighter, as it specialised in dealing loads of physical or magical damage in the shortest time possible. In exchange for nasty destructive skills, Breaker had small health pools and lacked the endurance and resistance of a Fighter, making them the closest thing to a glass canon the Omniverse had. Once again, Akina had trouble imagining a Maker creating a canon made of glass.

Tank, canon glass, and many other weird words had popped up in the #Obase to describe types and paths. According to her parents, those words were relics of the civilisation before the Ngwarekuu, whose meaning had been twisted to fit their new reality. Amana had told her not to get hung up on the words but to focus on the path they opened and the price they exhorted. Akina was honest enough to admit she found the Breaker type intriguing, bordering on endearing. To be able to kill a beast in seconds, thus defending and feeding the band, was something she might have dreamed about a few times in the last years.

However, since it was an offensive echo type, it was rarely chosen by the Hazda tribesmen as it was seen as a breach of Ishoko's teachings. Not a sacrilege, but something close to it and frowned upon. She tried to recall the last time she had met a Breaker at a gathering but couldn't. Akina didn't dwell on that and moved to the next type on the list.

Boosters were the originators using their skills to improve or modify reality around themselves. Healers, enchanters, magicians, shamans, and druids were some paths that opened up for a Booster. They were kind of the conflict jack-of-all-trades originators in the Omniverse. They could travel their paths alone but worked so much better in a band setting. Their sole presence would often mean the difference between living and dying, especially the different types of healers who commanded powerful skills to treat ailments and cure even the lethal wounds if they got to you in time. Akina respected those who chose this type but knew she had no affinity for it.

This brought her to the echo she really, really hoped would best suit her: Supporter. These originators were the jack-of-all-trades in everything else not conflict-oriented. They were the other side of a coin paired with the Boosters. The Supporter echoing archetype opened all kinds of paths relating to feeding and providing for their communities, such as cooking, building, stockbreeding, farming, or hunting. Obviously, Akina would choose Supporter to become a huntress like her mum and dad or her ancestors before her. She had been preparing her whole young life for this type and couldn't wait for her mind to click the option when it would be available.

Last, and least if you asked Akina, was the Maker type. Those originators were the creators and the changers. Makers were most commonly associated with scholars, researchers and inventors. They saw the Omniverse differently than the other four types, which put them squarely apart from the rest of the world. To date, there had never been a Hazda Maker, and Akina had no intention of becoming the first.

Nope, no, thank you.

Akina's world came crumbling down around her.

Thirty-three per cent compatibility for the Supporter type. Only thirty-three per cent. Tears came to her eyes as she stayed locked in the induction trance.

Unfortunately, at this very moment, she had no other option but to decide her echo. She couldn't interact with the outside world to ask her mother and father for advice on how to proceed. She only had the knowledge gained from the past gatherings and the elders' teachings. She was in shock. Akina couldn't believe that all the training she had done only amounted to a thirty-three per cent compatibility for the Supporter type. Not only that, she had some of the highest numbers ever heard on the Fighter and Breaker type. Usually, fresh inductees only got compatibilities in the forty-sixty per cent range. Her own mother, Amana, had only gotten a fifty-six per cent compatibility with the Supporter type when she was inducted. Granted, it had been her mother's highest match, and she turned out to become one of the best huntresses of the Hazda.

Akina calmed her frantic breathing and tried to get her thoughts under control. The longer she delayed her choice, the riskier it would become for her and the band. She recalled a conversation she had with elder Jabali about the choices given by the System. Humanity was still young in its use, but many had shared their thoughts and findings in the #OBase about the induction process and its objectives. The predominant theory was that after breaking the world, the System actually tried to help the people unlock their potential and become the best version of themselves. The echoing archetype was just the first step of the process. The System assessed her physical and mental qualities, as well as her actions and emotions, to offer the most suitable path forward. Elder Jabali had talked at length about her induction day, and what stuck out the most to Akina had been his last advice, the one that had rung the most true to her.

Jabali told her that the induction was, above all else, a leap of faith in the unknown. You could decide to play it safe and follow your plan, or you could choose to follow the System's plan for you. Akina agonised over her choice for another long minute before she chose to jump into the unknown and mentally selected the Breaker echoing archetype.

Akina confirmed her choice with a small prayer of understanding directed at Ishoko. She wanted to help the tribe, but if she was honest with herself, she wanted to relive those emotions she had felt earlier with the cheetah cub. She wanted the speed, the mobility and the overwhelming power to strike devastating blows to her enemies on a grander scale.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

The bump in Agility brought Akina over the fifteen threshold, which was a pleasant surprise. The bonus in perception would also come in quite handy to help navigate the many dangers of the grasslands safely.

She also noticed she had earned Reps because of her little scuffle with the cub earlier. The amount was enough to bring her personal level to 2 if she desired to. She held onto that thought until after the induction was finished because she wanted to talk with her mum about the avenues opened by those Reps. Akina was proud of her mature wisdom in the face of exciting news.

She brought her focus back to her #Display and thought about the next step. The System would offer branching paths, usually between two and five, for her to choose and follow. The elders had warned the young Hazda tribe members that paths could also be called classes by some originators. It had to do with a type of game that used to be played in rich, dominant civilisations before the world was torn and rebuilt into Pangea. The elders didn't care about words. For them, paths unlocked an originator's access to countless powerful skills that would help the tribe subjugate the grassland. In that regard, they had to kill beasts and compete with other tribes like the Masaai and the Wanyiramba. They had regular skirmishes with both, and skills had quickly become the difference between defeat and victory.