CHAPTER TWO: HAIL THY HAND OF DEATH

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The first few days had been a blur.

John’s body had not been his own–twisting with pain one moment, numb and detached the next. Every nerve felt alive with the aftershock of what the System had done. The transformation had consumed him in ways he wasn’t prepared for. But as the days bled together, a semblance of normalcy began to creep back into his mind. The moment Phoenix’s and the man he had strangled faces disappeared into the depths of his memories, he realised that nothing would ever be the same again.

Now, ten days later, he was beginning to understand just how much that single choice had altered the course of his life. The questions still burned–Who was he now? What had he become? And more hauntingly–Was it worth what he had sacrificed?

The third step has been completed!

Full body integration… Completed

Soul integration… Completed

Mind integration… Completed

Branches merging… Completed

Traits merging… Completed

Status now available

Command: Status

Welcome seedling to the Multiverse!

John suspected he'd be getting his answers to his questions soon enough. He scanned the notification before his eyes. What does all of this mean? he wondered. I really need a type of Internet, but… His thoughts trailed off as he looked at the woman sitting beside him. Apart from the ever-present pains of what the System had been doing to him, there was one other constant: the woman who had called him “Son.”

She sat in an antique armchair, upholstered in dark green, with faint sunlight filtering through the window behind them, adding to the ambient glow of the chandeliers. Before them was a large, intricately carved desk, dominating the room with its presence. The desk’s surface was carefully arranged with ink pots of various colours, a feather quill, and neatly stacked papers. The room smelled of old parchment mixed with her signature scent–a faintly sweet, floral fragrance that had become nearly addictive to him.

Feeling his gaze, she turned to look at him, her bearing regal–like a queen, or was she one? Her hair was long and dark, impeccably styled in a different way each time he saw her, but always neat. It framed her face, which was beautiful but sharp: eyes an intense green, nose small and perfectly shaped, lips a dull pink. Her entire appearance was enhanced by her luxurious emerald gown, embroidered with intricate golden patterns, an air of power as commanding as the room itself.

"Do you want me to carry you?" she asked, looking at him expectantly.

He didn't answer, and he could see her eyes dim a little at his silence, her smile turning faintly sad. "Well, don't worry, Chronifer," she murmured, almost as if reassuring herself. "I’ll be done soon, and I’ll be giving you your lessons soon."

The way she spoke to him, so softly, as if he might break–or as if she might break–felt surreal. The idea of softness didn’t seem to fit her; it felt as out of place as John in a child's body. But as he looked at her, John realised something that startled him. Since when did I stop minding being called Chronifer?

He nodded absentmindedly in response to the woman he now knew was his mother.

"You nodded at me, didn’t you!" she exclaimed, her voice tinged with a mixture of joy and disbelief. She grabbed his small shoulders, searching his eyes, a faint but fierce hope sparking in hers.

John felt a pang of guilt for not truly responding to her. But he’d managed to piece together a few key details about his situation. He’d come to suspect that the child he now inhabited–Chronifer–had been born with something missing, an emptiness that left him incomplete in some fundamental way. She had tended to him, despite it all, had raised him carefully even through that emptiness.

And now, despite the urge to let her see more of him, he reminded himself that he had to be cautious. He had a plan: small, gradual steps of growth to avoid suspicion, a slow emergence that wouldn’t expose him as a stranger in a child's skin. This was just another secret he would try to bury deep, even if it meant forgetting his true name. John. He had paid a heavy price to get here. Until he could weigh the benefits, he wouldn’t risk ruining it.

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Later that night, after his mother had tucked him into bed, John came to a startling realization. I didn’t even try to deny her as a stranger. Strangely, it didn’t feel unnatural to him. Deep down, he knew one of his greatest desires had always been a family–a father, a mother, maybe even siblings. But life as an orphan, shuffled between different foster homes, had never allowed that dream to take root.

John’s eyes snapped open at the sound of his door creaking open, then softly closing. She must have gone back to her room. He had avoided checking his "status" while his mother was nearby. From experience, he knew people couldn’t see the system’s messages, but it was hard to conceal the telltale gaze–staring into empty space as if reading something invisible.

Status, he thought not knowing if he had to say it out or…

Before him a long list of attributes blinked into existence, the language was not English, it seemed like runes or sigils, yet he could understand them.

That is strange.

Status

Name:

Chronifer Montcroix-Wythe

Race:

Human

[modified]

Traits:

[Adaptability], [Resilience], [Endless Tongue], [Mind Bastion], [Formless], [Zenith Physique], [Child of Legacies]

Bloodline:

N/A

Titles:

N/A

Rank:

Seedling

Branches

[Locked]

[Locked]

[Locked]

[Locked]

Leaves:

N/A

Vines:

N/A

Auxiliaries:

N/A

Harbingers:

N/A

Cruel Thesis

Physical Operator

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Strength: 1×

Fortitude: 1×

Cognition: 1×

Lithe: 1×

Mutation Actuator

Flesh defilement: 0%

Temporary:

N/A

Adjustable:

N/A

Permanent:

N/A

That's a lot of things… I don't understand! He screamed in his mind. He looked through the list, Human, well that's nice, but what the hell is modified!

Then as if the system had been listening a notification popped up.

Race:

Human

[Modified]

Humans are one of the most common races through the multiverse, their adaptability and resilience a weapon of survival, but you are not just any human, your heritage Is long and complex and you are a product of this complexity, a reaction to humanity subverted and Secrets hidden in blood.

That was a lot. Of course humanity is a common race, they're like a living reproduction machine. John joked laughing about his race in glee. Adaptability and survival. Blah, blah, blah, of course my lineage is long, can't you read, have you seen my new surname? Montcroix-Wythe, He smiled with pride, having only that surname seems worth the ultimate integration, he joked. What does humanity subverted means and what does it mean secrets hidden in my blood? I don't like the sound of that.

Well that's a lot, I bet I was a normal human in my past life though. He concluded.

Let's see, how did I get my race to show me its description? John wandered, I focused on the modified, ah, yes that's it. Oh, It's the words in the brackets.

Traits:

[Adaptability]

A hallmark of human survival, this trait allows one to quickly adjust to new environments, challenges, and circumstances. It empowers growth through adversity and change, enabling individuals to adapt and thrive no matter the circumstance.

Humanity adapts!

Well that was boring, John thought, he was quite disappointed in the fact that the first trait that reflected humanity he read seemed so boring, no mythical additions. Then he re-read through the trait again and then… Well, scratch that this may be enhanced, well I have to see about that over time. John felt an urge to understand more about this trait but he knew that won’t be happening anytime soon. He clenched his small hands, he estimated he wasn't older than five.

His eyes wandered to the next trait.

Traits:

[Resilience]

A back bone of humanity, the endless capacity to endure and recover from physical, mental, and emotional hardships. This trait enables humans to withstand extreme stress, recover quickly from injuries or trauma, and persist through adversity without breaking. This is what humans are made of.

Another basic, well, I guess they could be a bit more enhanced. John thought back to the situations he had gone through so far and concluded, if I have to keep going through such stuff… I'll definitely need this to be enhanced. Let's see the next. He thought.

Trait:

[Endless Tongue]

All races in the universe were born from the First Potential, the First Will. Through this shared origin, they possess the ability to speak the first tongue. All minds are connected by a single source.

However, other tongues exist–foreign and lesser compared to the Endless Tongue. This trait does not grant you the innate ability to hear those lesser tongues, but it ties you to the boundless, unifying speech of the Endless.

Is this… endless tongue what the system is written in? Also what mother speaks? John Was all but sure about that fact, yet the endless tongue wasn't the topic that drew his gaze. First potential, the first will? What are they? This all sounds like a creation myth? John legs kicked the bed in excitement.

I wonder what the other ones are? Maybe relating to the modified underneath my race, or maybe just personal?

Traits:

[Mind Bastion]

Your mind is a bulwark, a bastion and your lineage demands it. The secrets of your blood are unknown—untested allies or foe, your mind is your fortress and your hope, stand strong. Child of Legacies.

John read through the words with horror, and amazement, “allies or foes?” “Fortress and your hope?” Well I'll be damned just what kind of family have I been reborn into? Is my blood alive or something? Or is it more mystical like “ancestors” and such? Or maybe both. John rolled from his lying position and sat at the edge of his bed. Well this can actually be seen as a good thing, it gives me a defence against whatever secrets my blood holds, that means I have a fighting chance… his mind trailed off, maybe his mother would know something about it, after all this mentions blood. He shuffled the thought around, well, I'll ask her… when the time is right.

Traits:

[Formless]

Your mind, unlike most, is unfettered within its walls, enabling you the adaptability to be without a form and to be of all forms. Your mind can bear it, and you can be anything, will be everything. Your lineage has prepared for this—be proud. Hail thy hand of death, Montcroix-Wythe.

Beware, for defilement still lingers.

Now, this was cool until the end. He sighed, I saw defilement somewhere, oh, yeah, the Cruel Thesis, that doesn't sound nice, he called up the status again, read through the later parts of the status and his face darkened, only the name, Cruel Thesis makes me scared, then there's stuff like “physical operator”, “Mutation Actuator”. John had a bad feeling about all of that, and actually appreciated the formless trait, it actually seemed to offer him an advantage, and, Hail thy hand of death, that was sick and also scary, just what kind of family have i reincarnated into?

Trait:

[Zenith Physique]

??? Pass the trial of Movat’ha to unlock the full capabilities of this trait.

Damn, I was actually looking forward to reading this one. Well, I think it's self explanatory, maybe a sort of trait that makes me superhuman. I'll think about it after the next. He rushed on to the next.

Trait:

[Child of Legacy]

??? Pass the trial of Movat’ha to unlock the full capabilities of this trait.

Well, shit! John fell back onto his bed, the disappointment hitting like a punch, what even is the trial of movat’ha? Well I hope mother knows. He smiled, then slapped his face lightly. What the hell, you're a twenty-seven year old, why are you happy about having a mother? But he had already broken into a grin.

Hopeless

He still had one more thing to check, though he had little hope it would yield anything exciting.

Branches

[Locked]

***

Not even a single word? Ugh! Chronifer his eyes showing his rightful disappointment.

John looked up into the darkness, his thoughts churning as he tried to make sense of everything–the traits, the name, the family. His mother had murmured cryptically about his father, and he doubted he would’ve had these traits if he were still on Earth. But this wasn’t Earth anymore; that much was clear.

He didn’t fully understand what was happening, but he could already see potential advantages. The traits and name mentioned by the system seemed significant, even valuable. The fact that his lineage was described as long hinted at possibilities he hadn’t yet explored.

Still, he couldn’t ignore the possible downsides. Secrets hidden in his bloodlines, and his system’s vague remarks about his heritage being both a blessing and a curse only added to his unease. Whatever it meant, he suspected it could turn out to be as much a danger as a gift.

Then once again he asked himself the questions that had lingered at the edges of his mind like wraiths.

Who am I now? Chronifer Montcroix-Wythe–a son, once an orphan.

What have I become? Human, but so much more.

Was the sacrifice worth it?

He stared into the darkness. The ship’s haunting stillness crept back into his mind: the bitter chill, the iron tang of blood, the lifeless silence. Those memories wrapped around him like a shroud, unyielding.

And yet, in the void of those thoughts, the answer formed.

Whatever this is, Earth will not find it easy.

His fists tightened, trembling under the weight of his resolve. He didn’t know if this was salvation or ruin. But still…

Yes. With that though he felt a part of him die.

John was gone. He closed his eyes.

In his sleep, the world seemed to hold its breath. The moonlight dimmed, fading until it vanished entirely, leaving behind only stillness and shadow.