“So basically for some reason I can’t gather neutral mana, and I’m kinda running on fumes?” asked Orion after receiving some additional explanations. The Inquisitor stated that the loss of one percent of his mana was due to normal vital functions, and his current condition resembled breathing air in a sealed container. Each breath would consume more and more oxygen until he’d suffocate. His body, after integrating with mana, was apparently working a little differently, and these changes were supposed to progress further as he gained levels.
“That is what it looks like. If it is not your deliberate action or the influence of your skill, I think the Eliko youngster would be best placed to advise on anything in this matter. Because of the difference in our levels, I think I could do more harm than good in this case. His race, on the other hand, if I may say so, lives closest to mana. They even like to call themselves children of mana.”
“Yeah, he said something like that.”
“In that case, it is time for me to keep my end of the deal.” said the Inquisitor, then his eyes wandered upward, most likely to look at some System window. For a moment nothing happened, and the older man frowned until at some point he added, “I cannot make the transfer.”
“Uhm… That’s bad… I guess?”
“That is bad indeed. I do not understand why, though. If you had rejected the transfer, I would have been notified.”
“Wait, should I have a virtual wallet or something like this?” Orion guessed, which got him a mixed look.
“Everyone in their status has the number of coins they own. It is part of the inventory function.”
“I don’t have the inventory skill.”
“This is not a skill but a function granted by the System.”
This time it was Orion who looked at the man confused. He was quite certain that the System had mentioned default skills, and he believed that inventory should be one of them.
“Well, the nomenclature is not relevant at this moment. It looks like I will have to pay you in physical items. It is not a problem, but you will have to take care of the manual carrying of these things. I would recommend investing in some Spatial Item.” said the Inquisitor, and then briefly explained how it all works.
Under normal circumstances, people could store their belongings in private System space. By default, a person had sixty ‘units of space’ at their disposal, which simply were called ‘slots’. These slots were arranged in ten columns and six rows. The items that were to be stored required different slots depending on their size and mass.
If the default space was not enough, you could add more slots with Spatial Items. From Spatial Rings, Spatial Backpacks, Spatial Bags to Spatial Pockets somehow incorporated into clothing; these items had different prices and provided different amounts of extra space. If Orion had the possibility to use the inventory skill/function, he could appropriately ‘equip’ a Spatial Item and display everything he has on one screen. He could even arrange these objects to, for example, partially fill the default space and partially occupy the spaces provided by the Spatial Item.
To put it simply; he could insert a stick which the System estimated to be eleven slots long into the inventory and arrange it to lie in the default space and partly in a hypothetical Spatial Backpack, occupying one last required slot. Apparently, it didn’t matter to the System that the Spatial Items were actually separate objects. If equipped, they were simply disposable spaces that could be arranged at will. A person could therefore extend their inventory to, say, twelve columns or decide to arrange the extra space in additional rows.
Interestingly, slots and items in them could only be managed along two axes: X and Y. The System; most likely for user convenience; converted the spatial requirements of the objects into two-dimensional form. These calculations were dependent on the System alone and could not be manipulated. Thinking of a long stick as an example, Orion could not twist it ninety degrees on the Z axis and insert it into the inventory so that it occupied only one slot.
However, without the ability to use inventory, he would not have access to a window showing what is contained in a given Spatial Item. Supposedly, by imbuing an object with mana, he would still be able to sense what is inside and to put or take objects out, but it would be much less convenient. He also wouldn’t have access to the slot system, so he would have to learn how much a Spatial Item would fit in and figure out how to manage his space on his own.
For Orion, the very fact that he could put two donuts in one ring was still a big deal, so he didn’t worry too much about convenience. His only concern was that he would have to somehow imbue the object with mana, which was probably impossible in his current condition. The Inquisitor, however, after learning that this wasn’t some hidden ability of Orion’s, didn’t sound like it was a big deal, so Orion decided not to sweat the subject too much.
“Hmm, hmm, hmm, let me think.” The Inquisitor hummed and muttered, assessing Orion, and after a moment added. “Actually, initially I was going to transfer you a certain amount in the form of coins, so you would buy things according to your needs… However, I think it would be better if I arranged some items for you instead. Assuming you solve your mana problem, hmm… here.”
With that, a golden ring with a small purple stone set in it and a vial filled with an azure, slightly opalescent liquid appeared in the older man’s hand, which then rose into the air and floated towards Orion.
Gently grasping the objects, Orion barely noticed the ring, staring almost mesmerized into the strange liquid. It was only up close that he could see that the liquid was actually filled with a mass of opalescent particles that looked like tiny glitter, which swirled to form shapes resembling numerous nebulae enclosed in an elongated bottle.
“It is rather sad…” said the Inquisitor, standing at the door and reaching for the stone attached to it. Orion didn’t even notice the moment the man stood up. “You do not even know what the object you’re holding in your hand is, and subconsciously you desire it. Boy, as an Inquisitor, I have seen many victims of hardships. What they all have in common is a low Sanity stat. What you’re holding in your hand can help you get it back, but it is never an easy process. It is not enough to take it once, so I put five more such vials in the Spatial Ring.”
“Thank you. I was going to ask… how does this stat even work? Besides, what’s the average stat of Sanity of a normal, healthy person?”
“Stats generally have plenty of nuances and correlations, so I am going to explain it quite briefly, and I recommend that you study it in your spare time. Some could say that Sanity is a resource spent to put a kind of filter on your mind that makes it easier to deal with difficult situations, but at a cost. The cost may be different for each person, and it has even been observed to change in cases where a person has recovered and then lost Sanity points again. The important thing is to know what you have had to pay and work on getting it back so you do not go insane.”
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
The inquisitor removed the stone attached to the door and, returning to the chair, continued. The magic lines on the walls that were visible while the stone was ‘active’ were slowly fading.
“Sanity is a quite unique stat that does not increase with leveling, and you cannot allocate your free points into it, but you can expand your overall Sanity pool through evolution. It is achievable to acquire points by performing some arduous mental exercises. Regaining lost points of this stat itself is only possible if you digest and overcome in your mind what caused you to lose it. However, as you can probably imagine, sometimes events leave deep, invisible wounds in a person. I am sure you can guess what that might mean.”
“Fortunately,” the Inquisitor continued, “we also have access to various artifacts and medicines. For example, the fluid you hold in your hand allows you to go through difficult situations again. It does not sound good, I admit, but it will let your mind go through what it gave up before. Since you are going to have to repeat the process, I suggest you invite others here, as I will not be able to provide you with spiritual support in the future. It is your choice to make, though.”
Orion stared at the man in silence for a moment, then turned his gaze again toward the vial of shiny liquid. The man’s answer was quite extensive, and he said he would only explain things briefly. This meant that all these stats weren’t as simple as in games, where strength determined whether you could move a stone or not.
And there was nothing strange about it. Games were created for entertainment, and the ability to increase stats was only meant to be a tool to provide satisfaction from character development. But this was real life, so if stats were to describe someone’s condition, they had to be consistent on all fronts. It also didn’t escape him that the Inquisitor didn’t answer the question about the ordinary average Sanity stat. It was probably omitted deliberately, but that doesn’t mean it was done in bad faith; quite the contrary, most likely. He would gain nothing by comparing himself to others, and the answer would only discourage him.
Returning to the older man’s suggestion, Orion decided that it would be better not to involve anyone else. He understood why they wanted to trap him and knock him unconscious, so he held no grudge against them. During the journey they gave him food and drink, and from Egill somehow he felt a real concern for his welfare, so he was grateful to this strange bunch.
On the other hand, he did not trust them completely. However, the main reason was not a lack of trust but the fact that he didn’t want to impose himself on them. The Inquisitor clearly suggested that drinking this liquid would be a difficult process, but this was due to his present condition – a condition he had brought upon himself. It’s not that he had full control over what happened to him. It’s that his psyche was too weak. He allowed himself to fall to that level.
Finally, Orion looked back at the older man who was sitting patiently in the chair opposite him.
“I’d rather be able to deal with this on my own. I don’t want to burden others with my problems.”
“I see. But let me accompany you for the first time. We do not know how you will react.”
“True. Alright. Uhm. How do I open this thing?”
After a brief instruction, Orion opened a bottle that had previously looked more like a long glass bubble, devoid of any seams or holes. A very specific smell reached his nostrils. It was a combination of ozone after rain with something rather sweet and extraordinarily refreshing, giving the impression that it was not the air but the smell itself that was cold.
Following the instructions, he put the bottle to his lips and tilted it back, drinking its contents in one gulp. The liquid touched his tongue, but upon reaching his throat, it no longer traveled through his digestive tract but instead penetrated him, perceptibly spreading throughout his body. The sensation was initially very pleasant, like a cool ocean wave spreading through his insides.
A slight tingling sensation accompanied the wave, sending his entire body into a feeling similar to drinking a slightly carbonated beverage. By the time all the liquid had penetrated him, the wave had reached the tips of his limbs and begun to return, heading toward his brain, accumulating all the effects with unmatched intensity in one place.
Instantly, the world became more intense. The colors were more vivid, the shapes sharper, and the details more striking. Every scar on the Inquisitor’s face told a story of struggle and suffering. Every pollen on these round walls whispered the passage of time. Looking at the metal-like material of which the table was made, Orion almost could hear in his imagination the sound of hitting pickaxes that accompanied its extraction before processing.
[Sanity: +10 (12)]
This ecstatic feeling, however, didn’t last forever, quickly transforming into an overwhelming sensation, akin to an electric shock. As soon as he saw the Sanity notification, a memory formed in his mind. It was forcibly created, against his will, and he had no choice but to immerse himself in it with all his being.
He was greeted by a familiar landscape devoid of any color. A thin beast stood before him, and he was quickly approaching it, weapon at the ready. It was one of his best fights and one of the last monsters he killed in that place. Halfway through, his point of view shifted to the beast’s perspective, allowing him to feel its fear and see himself charging. Orion saw the look on his face, adorned with a big smile, his eyes opened maniacally.
[Sanity: -1 (11)]
The scenery hasn’t changed much. It was still a quarantine, but the memory was a little older. Orion saw himself and his friend floating unceremoniously in the air, but looking from this perspective, he also saw Neru’s worried look.
“I don’t know, Ori. It just doesn’t sound like you…”
His memory version answered, but the words were blurred, muddied. Without time to think, the scene changed, now returning to his perspective but showing only the left half of the view. He was tied to a chair, and the lamp was shining right in his face. The door opened, revealing the Friendly guy. Orion couldn’t see his face now, but he was happy to see the man. It’s been two days since he’s seen him, because he spent the day before with the Grey guy.
The feeling of happiness quickly faded as the memory turned into a scene from his first days in that place. He saw the whole view again, and before him was a table with a bag soaked in blood.
Even before he saw the next scene, he heard her voice.
“You taste… like…”
Martha’s hand became loose and began to fall, so he gripped it tighter and pressed it against his forehead.
“You taste… like…”
Martha’s hand became loose and began to fall, so he gripped it tighter and pressed it against his forehead.
“You taste… like…”
The scene repeated itself several times until at one point, instead of Martha’s face, he saw the face of a stranger, a tortured man with a begging look. Moments later, he was lying in the grass, laughing madly. His laughter continued, but circumstances changed again. This time, he was laughing as he swam with a stream of stinking liquid, and a moment later, he was laughing at Friendly guy’s joke.
For a moment, he managed to escape his memories, realizing that he was now lying on the ground. All he could see was the worried face of the Inquisitor and the last notification.
[Sanity: -1 (5)]
Wanting to feed her with his blood, Orion grabbed his trusty weapon and pressed a sharp edge to his hand. There was pain in that memory. He was used to it by now, but this time it was new. Just like back then.
Thousands, perhaps millions, of colors. Various shades of blue and white in the sky. The green of the grass and tree leaves, and the brown of the bark. Multicolored clothing and the dominant red of blood from hundreds of bodies sprawled across what resembled a camp.
The scenes changed, now focusing mainly on the pain, but sometimes other events were played out. And then it all stopped.
[Sanity: -1 (3)]
The System offered him the creation of a new soul, but he immediately rejected the offer, fearing that he would become someone else. But seeing his behavior… those laughs, his current approach to reality, and even that pathetic mom joke… Yeah. He was definitely a different person now. He once arrogantly replied to Neru that he wasn't concerned about his reactions, that it was the way of thinking that mattered, unconsciously ignoring all these changes.
Before his tense muscles relaxed and his head fell to the floor, he mumbled.
“Ah, fuck.”
