Hector woke with a sharp intake of breath. Pain answered immediately, radiating through his body like a reminder he had pushed himself past the edge again. For a moment, panic flared as he realized he was still in the forest, unconscious and exposed. He forced himself upright despite the protest from every muscle and scanned his surroundings. As he got to his feet, he realized the forest was calm. No other creatures seemed to be lurking and for now at least he was pretty sure he was safe.
“Makes sense, they probably had the run of this area.” he muttered.
He checked his resources. Both health and mana had crept back up to around half, not perfect, but stable enough to move. His body felt heavy, sluggish, like it needed more rest than the system was willing to give him. Still, he was alive, that counted for something.
The clearing looked like a battlefield aftermath. Jackalope bodies lay scattered in unnatural positions, some barely recognizable as once living creatures. The air carried the faint metallic tang of blood, already beginning to sour as the forest tried to reclaim the space. He moved through them carefully, triggering the loot interface as he went. He stayed alert, senses stretched thin, half expecting something larger to come investigate the carnage, but nothing did. The loot was a solid haul, providing several items.
Five Jackalope pelts.
Four intact horns.
Eight packs of Jackalope meat.
He gathered everything methodically, stacking supplies and stowing them away. Survival was becoming routine now, a necessary part of his everyday activity. He frowned at his reflection in a patch of still water.
“Some kind of leather armor would be nice, I am still rocking my old cargo pants and t-shirt”
The vest the system had given him was holding up well, but everything else felt painfully mundane compared to what he was fighting. Continuing to stare down at his reflection, he barely recognized himself. The familiar parts were still there. His brown hair and blue eyes were still clearly there, the same face he had seen in mirrors his entire life, but the expression was different. There was something sharp in his gaze. A light and energy he had not seen in years.
After the divorce and the loneliness that followed, he had buried himself in work. Days blended together until time felt more like something to endure than live. He remembered how worn down he had been back then. Not just tired, but hollow, like he was carrying weight he never put down.
Past images lingered in his mind. He saw himself ragged, beaten, and tattered on the inside, even when everything looked fine on the surface. The reflection looking back at him now was different. His body had changed. He had slimmed down, but there was no mistaking the tone beneath it. Muscle where there had once only been familiarity. His arms looked stronger than he ever remembered them being, shaped by constant fighting and relentless training.
Scars traced his skin, especially across his fists and forearms, he noticed old and new marks alike. Places where his body had been forced to learn how to hold together. He did not need a reflection to feel them but seeing them all at once put everything into perspective.
“I wonder if my stats are affecting my looks,” he said quietly. “I do not ever remember being this toned, but all I have done is fight and train.”
For the first time in years, he did not feel empty. He was exhausted and his body ached, but beneath all of it was something solid. Purpose, maybe, or perhaps he was just feeling genuine happiness for the first time in a while. Every gain had been earned, and every wound had meaning, nothing about this new life felt abstract.
The constant battles had begun to excite him and something in him was changing, and he liked it. That realization caused feelings of both excitement and fear. He didn't know what he was becoming but he knew he was having a good time.
With effort, he tore his gaze away from the reflection and pressed forward. As he finished looting, he noticed the levels attached to the creatures. Most ranged between ten and fifteen.
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“Yeah,” he said quietly. “Definitely not beginner territory anymore.”
Night was coming fast. The light filtered through the trees at a shallow angle now, shadows stretching long and uneven. He searched for a cave or hollow but came up empty. The forest offered plenty of places to hide, but none that felt defensible. Eventually, he settled on the next best option, a tree.
Not just any tree though, this one stretched so high he could not see the top, its trunk thick enough that climbing felt almost natural with his current stats. Bark bit into his palms as he climbed, but his grip held firm. After a short ascent, he found a cluster of branches sturdy enough to support his weight, it would do. Once settled, he exhaled and leaned back, listening to the forest settle around him. Night insects began to chirp. Something distant howled, far enough away not to be an immediate threat.
“Alright,” he said. “Time to see what I earned.”
The exclamation point in his peripheral vision pulsed insistently. When he focused on it, the system responded all at once.
[Pantheon Notifications]
[Hector Renegade has reached Level 15]
[Stat growth applied. Free stat points allocated]
[Deviation Threshold Reached]
[Skill outside standard parameters granted]
[New Skill Learned: Hands of Triage (F) Level 1]
“Hands of Triage,” he repeated. “That sounds surgical.”
Curiosity won out and he focused on the skill.
Hands of Triage (F) Level 1
Type: Active Combat Skill
Activation: Melee contact
Cost: Variable mana, scales with output
Cooldown: None
Description:
Hands of Triage allows the user to consciously manipulate healing aligned energy through direct physical contact. Upon striking a target, the user determines how that energy behaves at the moment of impact.
The applied energy may stabilize, disrupt, or overload biological systems depending on intent and control.
This skill does not generate new energy. It redirects existing healing output into a focused physical application.
Effects:
? Allows healing energy to be released on impact rather than sustained
? Enables selective targeting of biological structures such as tissue, organs, and circulation
? Reduces self-damage caused by overheal when used correctly
Combat Applications:
? Strikes may heal allies through contact
? Strikes may damage enemies through regenerative overload
? Output can be adjusted mid strike with sufficient control
Limitations:
? Requires physical contact
? Ineffective against non-biological entities
? Poor control may still result in backlash damage
Scaling:
At higher levels, Hands of Triage improves precision, reduces backlash risk, and expands control over how life aligned energy interacts with living systems.
Advanced mastery may allow direct influence over vitality, regeneration, and life force.
Pantheon Note:
This skill represents a deviation from traditional healing doctrine.
Most healers mend after harm.
Few decide what deserves to be mended at all.
Hector’s heart pounded.
“That is… that is exactly what I have been doing,” he whispered.
The difference was intent. Before, he had been forcing power and hoping it worked. Now the system acknowledged what he was becoming and gave it structure.
“With this,” he said, clenching his fist slowly, “maybe I stop breaking myself every fight.”
The idea of punch healing made him snort quietly.
“Yeah. Definitely going to test that later.”
Another notification surfaced before he could settle.
[Title Achieved: System Deviant]
He opened it immediately.
Title: System Deviant
Description:
Granted to individuals who develop abilities or behaviors outside the expected parameters of their assigned path.
Effects:
? Increased likelihood of unlocking nonstandard skills
? Enables divergent skill evolution
? Heightened System observation
Limitations:
? Deviant growth is inherently unstable
? Certain systems and entities may respond unpredictably
Pantheon Note:
Deviation is not forbidden.
It is simply unaccounted for.
“Well…that explains a lot.” Hector said dryly.
He rolled his shoulders carefully, feeling the stiffness settle in now that adrenaline was gone.
“I am not really a healer or a fighter, I guess I am something in between, some type of hybrid class I guess.”
Another alert appeared.
[Mortal Core Status Update]
Core: Mortal Core
State: Altered
Aspect: Unidentified
He stared at it.
“My core? I have seen this several times now, it sounds important, but I have no idea what it is.”
No explanation followed, of course not this Pantheon whatever had never been very good at explaining things. He leaned back against the trunk, letting the cool night air wash over him. Leaves rustled softly above, and the tree creaked as it swayed.
“No point stressing about it,” he said quietly. “I will figure it out. Same as everything else.”
The tree bore fruit. Analyze identified them as Eden Apples, edible fruit for the taking. He ate in silence, chewing slowly, listening to the forest breathing around him. When he finished, he settled into meditation, focusing on his breathing and letting his regeneration do its work. By the time his health and mana reached full, exhaustion finally caught up to him. He smiled faintly as he rested his head against the bark.
“Here is to tomorrow.”
His thoughts drifted. Sleep claimed him quickly, the forest watching in silence.
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