Alan didn’t feel at peace in his recently acquired home at all.

The shadows permeated with his will billowed around him filling the empty top floor of his Tower like a mass of water. They were so thick and dark that they felt physical. What had begun as announcing his presence to the world and letting off some steam was now something out of control. There was no danger of exhausting himself, as the shadow flame burning inside him constantly replenished the used-up mana. It almost felt like a purge of the old to replace it with something better and new, which had just happened a mere two weeks ago or so.

He was bad at tracking time post-capitalist punctuality. It felt almost meaningless now that every day could be the last and power was at the edge of a blade. How long could he live if he just holed up somewhere, relying on his mana, and pondering the secrets he had only touched upon? Could that allow him to grow from the safety of his shelter?

Now the moment he had decided to sit and look inside himself in an attempt to let go of all the frustrations that were threatening his already fragile mind, all had gone to shit. His composure and the careful balance he felt he had achieved were just leaves blown away by a storm, and yet he clung to them in the delusion all was well. That enlightenment was his.

At this point what the Bone Lord had done to him, Alan himself had repeated a few times over. His constant failures to cling to the slivers of sanity and reason he found after tremendous efforts were getting to him. It was like before when he would resolve to do better late at night, making all those plans for a new self, only for the sunrise to burn it all away. Now it was the shadows doing so, dragging him back down with each rise in power.

One step forward, one step backward. A fruitless dance.

Each spike of power, each stone further down the path he was walking, smashed the foundation he managed to build with so much effort. Was it all worthless? The voices of the broken shadows thirsted for blood. The quitter Alan’s mind was and the less he had to focus on, the worse they got. The shadow of the harvester was but fuel to an already existing fire. He could feel its constant strengthening rushing through his soul and reaching the very core of his power. It was becoming his, so it was not a trick the harvester had played, nor an attempt to harm. It had simply brought along change.

Perhaps that was the root of Alan’s issue. The constant growth and change without having proper time to get used to it. Humans were adaptable, but they needed time.

Resolve was not difficult to find though, especially once one found power and could stand on top of problems. Alan had killed tier twos without breaking a sweat, and the powerful Rust had been merely a distraction. Only the golden sagird had proven somewhat of a challenge, but even they were unable to sate this newfound hunger.

I can’t go on like this.

The power pouring out of him without purpose drove him mad even if it was not the root of the issue; even if it would be for good in the end. Pain was not a problem. He was used to pain by now. Used to agony. This though? This lack of control over his own abilities? It pissed him off.

Alan tried to reign it all in and willed the Tower to assist him. Mana clashed with his own from all directions and made him split his efforts. He knew what he needed to feel better—a target. And there was one very convenient target inside of him.

The piece of golden will held under lock and key of darkness belonging to another was still there and Alan closed his eyes. He focused his rage and annoyance toward it and as if having heard his desire the shadows that didn’t belong to him pulled away into the dark recesses of his mind.

The clash was almost immediate. He felt something from far outside trying to worm itself into his mind and reconnect with the severed will. The severed ball of will itself lunged at Alan’s mind as if to devour it, but where it had been a giant threatening a human last time, this time around things were different.

This time around the golden giant would face a dragon in the making. A hungry one.

Alan’s will roared and the harvester’s shadow burned faster and faster, becoming smaller as it fed the shadows, reinforcing them, giving them something new. His will acted as if it was alive, and the darkness was given a second of life as it tore apart at the intruder-turned-prisoner. Without prompting Alan cast a skill inside his own mind. A skill that had saved his skin so long ago, and had undergone several changes since then.

[Spirit Devour] hadn’t felt as strong as he had hoped after its change. Stronger foes were resistant to it. It was only natural for everyone to prepare themselves against psychic attacks, of course. They were of the worst kind. However, Alan had neglected quite a large part of its description, mostly due to a lack of proper targets.

It was extremely effective against non-physical entities. Would a piece of foreign will trapped in his psyche be considered a non-physical entity?

The shadow dragon made of Alan’s will and churning mana opened its mouth and its eyes shone with black light, tearing apart the golden will and pinning it in place, before breaking it down like a piece of soft meat.

Alan’s eyes shot open as knowledge rushed into him. Things he shouldn’t have known. Things he shouldn’t have been able to learn so easily. An inhuman scream echoed somewhere far away, but it faded just as fast as it had come. Alan shook his head and swayed in place.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

I’ll get you too. I’ll get all of you scheming monsters.

The whole ordeal had lasted for a moment, but now he felt much better, even if the sliver of burning shadow from the spirit was still stoking the fires of his will. Things were about to get messy though, so he wouldn’t lack targets to vent on…

***

Rosalyn threw her new enchanted coat on a chair. This material Mr. Muge had pulled out of nowhere was proving quite useful. It absorbed mana and after some processing it could dampen the strength of hostile skills—especially elemental ones. It was still an issue when it came to the ‘irregular’ ones.

Still, it was an amazing achievement, and Mr. Muge had assured her this was only the beginning. The [enchanter] had expanded yet again, and mass-production was already a thing of the present.

Rosalyn sighed and rubbed her eyes. Not needing sleep all that much was fine and dandy until one realized how much peace and quiet meant in a world filled with constant pressure and questions. From the artifacts Mr. Muge was churning, to the constant ego-tripping bastards who had gotten a good skill and decided they were better leaders and all the other issues a leader of a budding society faced…

And then there was Alan. She didn’t know what to think of him anymore. He was a different person each time they met, and yet, he had been massively helpful. She didn’t blame him for not wanting the burden of leadership, but she was also jealous of his freedom to do whatever.

Not that Rosalyn would’ve been able to stomach all the things Alan was doing. Facing a Sanctuary all on his own? Chasing down madmen? That was not for her. Perhaps everyone had a role they had to play in this strange new life they were forced into…

She gritted her teeth. He was also so infuriating!

Alan hadn’t even stayed to hear what they had learned from the tier two he had captivated! He had left his new little weird girlfriend to act as a liaison. It was disrespectful, annoying, and downright irresponsible!

But he was their strongest member, and the one who had saved them from almost certain disaster this time around. And what to even say about the network of World Temples serving as doorways. It helped her create a vision of the future and allowed them many opportunities for further growth. It was almost somewhat terrifying too. If the goal of the System was for only one person to control it all in the end, then the world would be painted with blood. It was simply impossible—

Rosalyn screamed as the shadows near her newly built dresser coalesced and turned into a human. The skill she had called upon died down as fast as she had called upon it, and she stared at a serious-faced Alan.

Since when did this bastard burst into women’s bedrooms?! And why did he have such a gloomy expression? Rosalyn opened her mouth, ready to lay on him, and then paused. She had a whole speech prepared about intruding in the spaces of others, especially her bedroom, but Alan’s look told her this was not the issue right now.

“We have a problem,” Alan said, a piece of shadow escaping his mouth and melting under the light of the enchanted lamps.

“We have many problems,” she replied slowly, slowly suppressing the fear crawling up inside her. She was so tired of problems.

Did she even want to know why he looked so grim? And what was this scary presence around him? He had bled shadows before, and he was an overall spooky person, but this was new. How fast was he growing? Was there hope for someone to ever catch up?

Question after question filled Rosalyn’s head as she sat down on her bed and gestured for Alan to sit down on the chair next to the window. This was one of the taller buildings of the Sanctuary, and the top floor was her personal quarters, not that she got to enjoy them a lot.

“Did you get anything from Bob?”

Rosalyn smiled wirily. “The ‘Immortal’? Bits and pieces. I don’t know what you did to him, but he’s terrified. Perhaps more so of you than that rusty guy. He mentioned monsters of gold and a looming ‘war’, but getting him to open up has been slow. I don’t think he’s all there in the head. Reaching him is not made easier by the fact that he’s stronger than anyone here. No one is allowed direct contact, and we have redirected most of the mana for the barrier toward the cell we bought for him. We could actually use some of the stores of your tower—”

Alan grunted.

“There are filthy cheaters on this planet, Rosey.”

Rosalyn frowned. This was not what she had expected to hear.

“Those golden insectoid bastards. They’ve done it before. They’ve played this game, the integration, and risen from the ashes. I don’t know how, but I know that we are just a piece of food on the menu. An appetized to be swallowed in their conquest.”

Rosalyn felt her blood freeze. The implication of what he was saying was terrible.

“I don’t understand…” she said.

“They’ve gone through an integration before, and they’ve reset, so to speak. The memories I devoured are strange and broken. I saw a massive ritual and cities of gold lying in ruin, but it was of their own volition. They wanted to start fresh, with the knowledge they had.”

“So what you’re saying is… we have to fight against an enemy that knows how all of this works? How did you learn of this?” This was too confusing.

“I ate a piece of will—that’s not important. As I said, it’s a few random facts and nothing useful. I was hoping for skills or knowledge of the System, but all I got was a little bit of a history lesson.”

“If what you’re saying is true, then—”

“We have to grow faster. We have to secure this place and all others. It will be a war of extinction, Rosey.”

Was he terrified or excited by the prospect? Somehow the glint in his eyes made Rosalyn feel as afraid of him as she was of this new invisible threat. As if the forest and all its horrors were not enough. As if fellow humans were not problematic enough already.

“We could run,” Alan quietly said. “If things get too bad, I think I have a way—but honestly? I want to fight. This place—this world we’ve been given—is an opportunity.”

He stared at her and Rosalyn flinched away, wrapping her hands around her stomach.

“What are you trying to say?”

“You should stop living holed up here. Even at the risk of death, you should go out and grow. All of you. All of those you trust. This won’t be resolved in a day or two, and it might be a long while until the true danger becomes apparent, but having run into few of them…”

She knew that, of course. Perhaps it would be easier now with the system of World Temples.

“Will you help us?”

Alan looked at her incredulous, making her sigh in relief.

“I’m honestly fed up with powerful bastards toying with me. I’ve some unfinished business to do, and I’ll try to scout around some more. If you see the golden insect bastards, just run to a World Temple. Don’t engage them. Make sure to get some people into tier two, and focus on reinforcing this place further. See what else the World Temple offers.”

“What about—”

He was gone. Rosalyn cursed under her breath. She hated how he always left. Rude bastard.