Rolling hard across the smooth stone floor, elbows smacking against stone, it only then occurred to Kieran that the fabled superhero landing was solely applicable when landing from a vertical drop.

Stinging scrapes on his elbows and bare knees were the instant karma far getting so carried away by his thrilling new rush of power.

The air fizzled with heat as another ball of flame roared past his scrambling form.

"Prick!" He yelled from his back.

"Stay right there, I'm coming!" Every word he snarled echoed loudly through the hall whilst he clambered to his feet.

Despite Kieran's overly polite request, the orc mage slowly retreated away from his approach, hands already forming another blazing cluster of fire magic.

Singed trainers barely holding on by the last threads of lacing, Kieran rushed forward across the hard ground. He kept his eyes locked on the growing fireball, determined not to get hit. When he got within a stone's throw of the mage, the look of fear in its eyes made him smile slightly with schadenfreude.

In its panic, the orc opted to launch a smaller, more hurried attack in his direction. Kieran lunged into his best commando roll to the side, but somehow covered far more distance than he intended to.

The hard impact wasn't too painful and Kieran deftly rolled back up to his feet and adjusted his direction back toward his foe.

A small thud followed by the sensation of heat brushed across his shoulder as he came up from the hasty manoeuvre. The fire-based attack seemed far smaller than any previous projectile sent his way yet.

Magic missile or fire bullets? He wondered to himself at the slight graze of the flames that caused virtually no pain. In fact, it felt more akin to warming his hands over an open flame on a snowy day.

His joy cut off abruptly when the mage began firing more of these small flames his way in rapid succession.

"You little pussy, come here!" Kieran roared, more in annoyance than anything else.

He really hadn't expected the orc to change tactics like this, but also knew it was probably the smarter move.

Full of confidence that he could physically overpower the scrawny bastard, Kieran ducked low into a sprint. His powerful, angry steps drove him forward whilst he swiftly closed the distance.

Three more fire bullets came screaming toward him in a staggered volley. He leant his head to the side reflexively and felt two projectiles sear awfully close past the side of his head.

The third one, however, hit him directly in the right arm.

Hard heat spun him slightly and almost made him lose his footing. As he righted himself into a steady pace again, the fading heat on his skin burst to life in a layer of flame.

The initial panic at the sight of his arm on fire vanished, quickly replaced by the surprising comfort of warmth.

Oh damn, it really doesn't hurt at all? I wonder…

A memory of searing flames turning to the peace of a summer's day flashed through his thoughts.

He shook his arm quickly, but the band of flame around his biceps burned undisturbed, merely flickering in the breeze as he paced ahead.

A vague idea sprouted in his mind, his anxious lack of magical know-how dissuaded him, but he quickly decided to just go with whatever felt natural.

With a deeper breath than necessary, and his thoughts focused on the warmth wrapping his arm, he pulled inwards.

Kieran's innate gift was truly becoming an instinctive part of him, and with the growing ease of use came the ability to widen its scope of control.

The flames disappeared immediately with the first inhale of breath, and he felt an intrinsic connection to the mana grow as it settled into his arm.

The absorbed mana felt…odd.

Unlike the vibrant pulsing heat of the fire mana he'd encountered until now, this left a sour taste in his mouth.

The energy felt unclean and rather uncomfortable; he decided. It left his arm feeling heavy and, for some reason, refused to mix naturally with his internal mana as he had assumed it would.

Not wanting to slow his approach lest he take more unwanted shots, Kieran rushed onwards. He gave up on his initial idea of becoming a human mana sponge capable of absorbing his foes' magical attacks to empower himself. Maybe in the future, he'd figure out how to pull off some OP shit, but not now, it seemed.

Figuring he had maybe ten more seconds until he caught up with the retreating mage, he didn't want to risk leaving the impure fire mana inside him when it came time to fight. So instead of trying to inhale the mana any deeper, he focused entirely on the exhale.

Using the growing control of his own mana as a metaphysical extra limb of sorts, he channelled the flow toward his hand aggressively to force out the mana. It moved slower than expected, but also granted him a feeling of relief the further it moved away from his core.

Rushing air drew his gaze away from his arm, and another quick burst of fire bullets raced his way, almost catching him off guard again. He bobbed and weaved at the last moment, to the left, then right.

Bright, searing flames whooshed by him, closer than he was comfortable. But instead of fear, he felt confident that he could easily survive at least a few hits from the weak attacks.

Clearly not expecting him to dodge the barrage of projectiles unscathed, the orc's face scrunched up into an unclear expression. It gave Kieran another strange look, then in a move that shocked and angered him, the little bastard turned on its bare heels and started running for dear life.

Kieran couldn't stop the smile creeping onto his face and felt glad he wouldn't have to dodge any more attacks for the moment. Now he could pay attention to his mana and the intrusive energy he'd attempted to claim from the magical attack.

The foreign power gradually began to bubble up in his wrist, painfully pulsing with light and more stinging in response to the pressure of his mana.

He fought even harder to push the foreign energy from his body with each second he ran forward, and despite the frantic scurrying, he caught up with the fleeing orc quicker than either of them had anticipated.

"You're fucking dead!" He roared at the Orc’s back.

The mage-turned-coward glanced back in response to his angry call, wide mouth pulled back in a snarl. Realising its pathetic attempt to run wouldn't work, it chose to fight back instead.

Kieran was almost on top of the creature, barely two feet behind it, with arms stretched out to grasp its tattered cloak. Suddenly the Orc spun, beady orange eyes locking onto his with a sneer that sent warning signs blazing in his mind.

Both of its skinny green hands flew up, strangely clasped before its mouth. The creature inhaled a quick but deep breath that audibly pulled at the nearby air, then just as quickly hunched forward, igniting a flare of light from its hands. Before Kieran’s eyes, the Orc shot out a blossoming orange inferno at him. The widening cone threatened to consume Kieran's whole body in flame before he fully grasped what was happening.

With panicked instinct driving him to react, he dove into another evasive diagonal roll, but a torrent of fiery flames bathed his entire right side in pain and mana.

The putrid smell of burning cloth filled his lungs as he scrambled on the floor, trying the stop, drop, and roll approach to put out the fire that covered him.

Another burst of light told him he couldn't remain a static target. His knees came beneath him and he pushed off the floor like a sprinter, cutting an angle away from the second wave of flames bearing down on his position.

Circling the mage slightly quicker than the pillar of flames could manoeuvre, he rushed closer to the orc in a closing spiral. His fist clenched tightly as the burning mana in his arm ignited far beyond his control.

Even amidst his heavy breathing, he felt the tenuous connection to his own mana reinforce itself anew. The desire to cleanse himself of the unclean fire mana came back to him, and with a powerful exhale, he pushed from his core.

Flames wreathed his arm like a log doused in petrol. With every pulse, he expelled the mana further down his arm until all the flames condensed around his tight fist. Pain throbbed across his hand, the dense mana and heat seemingly too much for his body to resist anymore.

Kieran ignored it all in his fury, his thoughts solely focused on evading the twisting spout of flame, and smashing the skull of the orc that insisted on searing him like a kebab.

After a few more steps, he felt like he had closed enough distance. So he finally stopped circling and darted straight toward the short creature, blazing fist clenched so tightly it went numb.

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He stepped in hard with a heavy straight right cross that carried all his weight and fury. Body turning into the punch, he exhaled so hard that he felt his whole core clench as it supported his power.

The orc's eyes went wide, full of orange light and behind that, fear. It was too late to dodge in any way, shape, or form. All the Orc could do was watch in panic as the angry shirtless man hurled a flaming fist its way.

Kieran's burning knuckles crushed into the orcs' fire-spouting hands, the digits cracking without much resistance as the punch carried right through to the bony mouth behind.

A blinding sun of light and heat exploded from the point of impact, and streaks of flame burst in every direction as Kieran lowered his stance and drove his fist beyond the target with all his strength.

In that brief moment of explosive force, he finally expelled all the burning mana that built inside his fist. A wave of blindingly bright flame roared from the end of his fist and Kieran single-mindedly forced all the hot mana from his arm in a beautiful flaming display of light and heat.

The unexpected shockwave that followed filled Kieran's ears with a deafening boom, sending him reeling backwards. He fought to remain upright as he stumbled several feet away.

Kieran blinked away the temporary blindness, then shuffled to the side with his arms held up in a high boxing guard that barely protected his head and chest.

The throbbing ache in his entire right arm was intense but just about manageable, especially with adrenaline still fueling him. Eyes peeled through the plume of smoke that obscured his vision, Kieran wouldn't underestimate the sneakiness of the orc again. There was no way of knowing what desperate attacks it might pull from its feathered magic hat.

A pungent smell of charred fabric assaulted his nose whilst his vision regained focus in the faint light of the hall. Thick, ashy smoke obscured his line of sight, but he could discern a familiar scent from within the plumes.

Roast pork? Kieran wondered, not quite recognising the odour. He began fanning at the air to dispel the smokey cloud around him, and through the clearing, he bore witness to a gruesome display that simultaneously filled him with satisfaction and disgust.

Growing up with the Internet, Kieran had stumbled across grim images taken in the aftermath of military bomb strikes and residential fires enough times to leave a lasting memory. The poor victims of intense blazes or destructive targeted explosions often appeared close enough to feeble charcoal effigies that they barely even resembled a human anymore. This was close, but still different in so many ways.

The real-life version was significantly more gruesome. An acrid smell stung his nose, but he refused to feel even a pang of sympathy or remorse.

His satisfied gaze lingered on the small blackened skull for another moment until he turned away, assessing the damage to his right arm and leg. Large red patches of raised blisters and leaking red skin painted both his limbs from the shoulder and hip down.

The infuriating waves of pain told him it wasn’t great, but also nothing too serious. A little cleaning and wound dressing would have made him good as new, he was sure.

The wishful idea that he'd find any first aid packs or sterile dressing down here almost made him chuckle, though.

With a heaving sigh, Kieran dropped to his knees. The stress and anxiety of the fight still thumped loudly in his chest.

"Just breathe man…it's over now" He told himself calmly between long breaths, then almost slapped himself at his own naivety.

This nightmare was far from over by any stretch of his imagination. This would likely be the beginning of his and many other people's struggle for survival. Sure, he'd managed to survive multiple encounters against these orcs, but for all he knew, there was an entire legion of them waiting on the outside, or some other ridiculous creature or beast ready to take his life.

No, don't think like that... fuck

That oh-so-familiar tightness gripping his heart and lungs threatened to overwhelm him for the first time in a while. Not since he'd woken up in that cave-like cell shackled to a wall had his anxiety crept up on him so quickly.

Faced with the prospect of being so close to leaving this place alive, the reality of the situation sunk in dreadfully clearer by the second.

If monsters like these are all over the world now, as well as the Elnari, those skinwalkers, and god knows what else…

He exhaled a long deep breath, forcing down the growing panic with considerably more control than he could previously exact in times of distress. This seemed even more odd to him considering the insane nature of this day's events and the implications for the future.

"I'm gonna be okay" he said, trying to sound convincing to himself.

"yeah, bollocks to this, I'll find the way out. Then maybe I can find Illya and Neaila. They know far more about magic and monsters than I could figure out alone, and I could definitely do with some instructional chats."

If the portal didn't take them too far from here, that is…

With another quick examination of his wounds, only the consistent waves of mana he inhaled improved his clarity of thought. Now that he had time to relax and take in his body's current state, it surprised him at how normal he felt.

The painful gouges in his hand were pretty numb but still tender to the touch, already covered over by dry scabs that he barely resisted picking at. All the burns down his right side ached a fair amount, but that was all.

Cleansing the murky fire mana had been hard and required him to fill himself with a lot more mana than he had ever noticed in the heat of combat. Thankfully, these remaining dense waves of superheated energy had nothing to do and nowhere to go, and by his great luck, they began to infuse with his flesh and gradually knit his damaged skin back together.

If normal ambient mana was already fixing his wounds, he wondered if a purer source might be even more effective.

Imagine if I could get some kind of magic regeneration going…but where to find all that mana?

He glanced back at the pillar of white light creeping through the open door in the distance as he considered the notion.

Maybe if I can still get some elemental man from-

An audible crackle in the air reminiscent of a log fireplace drew his attention back to the pitiful, blackened remains on the ground. Certain the orc was completely dead, he casually moved closer to inspect the corpse. A slight disturbance in the surrounding mana piqued his curiosity further and drew him close enough for the faint smoke to assault his sense of smell once again.

Ugh, gross…

There was both dark blood and fire mana leaking free of the partial husk. He could see it clearly oozing from wet cracks. The warmth of the mana wafted free from the corpse along with the distracting stench.

Despite the gruesome view of cracked black skin and charred facial bones, the feeling of dense fire mana brought with it a deep sense of relief as he inhaled it.

One by one his muscles relaxed, and his heart drastically slowed down as waves of the energy drifted over him. The undulating heat didn't contain any of the previous uncomfortable corruption, and Kieran didn't really care why right now. All that mattered was the beautifully intense sensation of strength filling his body and calming his nerves.

Kneeling calmly before his bountiful harvest of mana for what felt like barely a few minutes, he continued steadily absorbing as much as his lungs would permit. For a couple more minutes, he just breathed. The sensation of thick mana flowing into him like air fanning a furnace persisted until the influx of mana stopped by itself, and he came to from his impromptu magic meditation.

Flexing both hands, he turned them over in the faint light.

"Holy shit" he gasped, eyes wide in wonder.

He struggled to believe it, but where there were once rough red scabs and various scrapes or bruises covering both arms, now there was only silky smooth light caramel skin. Even the small linear knife scars he'd accrued years ago working at his uncle's restaurant had completely vanished from his fingers.

Confused as to what had happened, Kieran scanned the rest of his bare torso. Freshly soft hands glided across the newly remade layers of skin as he took it all in.

How could I not even feel this happening?

As he stroked the pristine layers of skin, something felt truly different to him. A quick experimental pinch and pull on his skin at his waist revealed a lot less chub around his upper body than he remembered. He'd not eaten anything before he left his house with Nathan, god knows how long ago, sure. But that didn't explain the several kilos of subcutaneous fat apparently missing from his torso.

In the peculiar dim lighting of the hall, he could see muscles and veins that hadn't made an appearance in years. Not since he used to work out religiously at university had he considered his body athletic by any means. Now, however, his entire body was looking vascular and strong, not to mention silky smooth. His shamefully bright dome of a bald head outshone the unexpected boost in his ego he'd felt after admiring himself.

"Wait" he had a thought, and after quickly peeking under the loose-fitting waist of his tattered jeans, he let out a comical sigh.

"Thank god, I'm not completely hairless at least."

Still down on his knees, it seemed appropriate to send a quick prayer.

"If there's anyone out there listening" he began solemnly, hands clasped together.

"Please? I'm begging you, I'm not even thirty, don't let me be bald already. I'll owe you big time, I swear it" he all but mumbled in the silence.

Much like when he experimentally prayed as a child, he didn't expect any answer or confirmation. Not even when he'd pleaded through miserable snot and tears for a family that loved him.

The lovely elderly lady who ran the Sunday school he attended would always insist that as long as you had God in your heart he would definitely hear your words. After a handful of attempts, he dejectedly accepted that there was no God, or that he'd just abandoned him like his parents years before.

Kieran sighed as he thought back to those days, the lonely powerlessness of childhood had left mental scars he'd worked hard to overcome through the years. Maybe if his dull life had continued down its natural path he would eventually slip back into that weaker version of himself.

The nihilistic worldview he'd slowly developed, stemming from his depressing childhood full of desperate escapism, was coming undone.

What he'd assumed to be meaningless had actually been based purely on ignorance and a complete lack of control over his life.

Now though? The arrival of the System looked to have changed everything. Bringing with it magic, monsters, and, he was certain, countless other changes that he couldn't imagine. Perhaps he might even find some new meaning to life amidst the chaos he was certainly heading towards.

He almost laughed at his own goofy little prayer to nobody in particular. There were no great deities listening to the miserable pleas of that pathetic child all those years ago, let alone his selfish desire to be aesthetically hairy.

In that moment where he stifled a chuckle, the great hall around him darkened strangely. The air itself felt thick and tangible, like faint walls within reality that encircled everything around him. The disturbing sensation of being watched overcame him and he shivered with unease.

The sound of whispering hummed faintly in his ears. It felt somewhat familiar, and only when he looked behind him did he place the odd sound. The towering stone doorway was still there, beaming out light across the distant platform, but something was different.

Huh? When did it open all the way?

Amongst the incoherent chirping of noise, he could hear one clear voice as it reverberated in his mind.

"Hurry child" they pleaded with urgency.

Something about the tense nature of the words plucked a chord of memory within him, and he rushed to his feet without thinking. Becoming even more thankful that his burns had healed completely, he hurriedly jogged back to the messy patch of gore he'd left at the base of the great door.

His bones felt an urgency that he couldn't tie to a single thought, yet he still followed it. Climbing the several steps onto the dias, it surprised him just how blinding the pure white light was as it beamed out the open doorway. He couldn't see anything beyond the colourless threshold, but he sensed a strong disturbance in the surrounding mana as he moved closer to the opening.

Kieran knew in his heart that he wasn't mentally ready for what came next, but regardless of his nervousness, he decided he could only keep moving forward on this strange new path.

"Find the path?" He mumbled in remembrance, the strange dreamlike voices he'd heard previously came back to him as he stared into the white void.

Quivering slightly at the memory of terrifying pain and pale fire, he hesitantly stepped up to the wide doors.

"Here goes…everything" he said solemnly. And with his eyes clenched tight, he stepped through the empty archway, his world turning white.