Once they had completely removed the child, they lowered their hands. Magic faded, and the wilderness quieted. The pool of blood and mush remained, leaving no sign of a heartbeat or any life lingering for another breath. They observed the scene without a word exchanged. Then they lowered their heads, ready to descend back to their abode, fixing what they believed was the mistake ten years ago.
But just then… The air trembled.
Their strength, the ones that held the very wind and knowledge, began to disobey. Something pushed against them. It felt terrible. They raised their hands, desperate to understand. And so they felt it. Air was almost expelled out of them against their will. And in that moment, they realized… they were not in control of this land. Someone else was.
The stones below and the trees above began whispering inaudible words. Hollow rasps echoed around them, growing louder and louder. Leaves flapped up and down in an unsteady rhythm.
The hollow took hold of the five Shadows. It pinned them in place and forced them to witness the wilderness breathing.
Tremble. Inhale. Tremble. Exhale.
They stretched their arms toward the pool, demanding that the land fall under their command. But their shoulders snapped. Their necks jerked. Involuntary jolts of energy pricked their muscles, and they couldn’t stop staying still. Every attempt to aim their palms made the wilderness taunt them harder.
Something unseen but heavy had entered the space between them and the boy.
Suddenly, the ground rumbled again, but harder this time. The wilderness howled, almost painfully. There was a faint screaming echoing around them, like the voices of a thousand children screaming for their parents. They sounded like distant memories, cries that the wilderness remembered from years ago, the sounds of thousands slain—voices waking up to haunt them.
One turned its head to the other beside it. They all faced each other in confusion, their arms withdrawing. Even their systems reacted, those ancient systems of the old. Never had they felt their systems flicker on and off in transparent beats. They silenced their displays, but those numbers kept returning to grab their attention. The stats and imprints and levels all behaved like it was unbearable, leaning in one direction that felt all too deliberate. And that direction? It led to the pool of blood before them.
The world was reacting to him. And the five ancient figures felt something entirely unwelcome: doubt.
They darted glances at each other quickly, wordless and trembling, appearing to be just ordinary humans now. Something impossible was beginning.
Then the air ignited with codes.
A pulse of gold light erupted from the child’s body. The light seeped downward to his deformed body like delicate hands reaching to touch every fragmented flesh and bone to caress them. The grass around Vynelor caught the edge of that light and withered instantly, the moss flaring white-hot before turning gray and brittle. Even the shadows dared not touch the radius of the glow. But the child’s flesh remained unscathed, even radiant.
Above him, without motion, without warning, a shape began to form. A blinding light carved itself into existence, simmering the air with a single boxed screen. Every etched line scorched the air and sent ashes drifting to the floor.
Their systems flickered. The five figures watched. Their eyes were locked to the unknown system now descending over the boy like authority manifested.
Then it began.
● SYSTEM ALERT ●
Adaptation Path — 1/5 Activated
{REDACTED} ? Lv. ???
The letters were carved, seared into the air above Vynelor’s broken body. Each symbol glowed with impossible depth, twisting like heat distortion over shattered glass. The overlay crackled. The moment this unveiled Adaptation Path was activated, something ruptured the Shadows.
The five recoiled. Two fought back and activated their Telekinetic Magic—Adaptation Path against Adaptation Path. But just when a tiny fragment of magic escaped their palms, their wrists bent sharply. Their magic snapped in the air like shattered glass. Palms cracked, and the skin scorched with alarming heat that one of the shadows hissed. Another withdrew fully, their hand smoking from the burn.
And if things hadn’t gotten worse for them—
Then their systems opened.
Each of them—ancient, faceless, legendary—flinched as their own system overlays flared to life. Gold lines crisscrossed their dark frames, forcefully overriding their Adaptation Paths.
● System Interruption ●
ILLEGAL ARGUMENT
I am afraid.
AP: Telekinetic Magic – Cancelled
Cause: Contradiction Detected
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The light bled from their hands. The swirling black mist drained away. The aura that once silenced a forest collapsed inward, leaving behind only motionless beings that had no idea why they were here in the first place.
One of them whispered, its voice echoing. “What is happening?”
Another figure tilted its head sharply to the side, its hood bending as if startled. “Our systems denied us?”
“The child—” a third muttered. “Impossible. Whose system can override the ones of our founder but the Singularity?”
The fourth took a step back, the motion oddly human for something so detached from the world. A ripple of sound echoed across them. Their systems flared again. But this time, it came with a command.
● SYSTEM ALERT ●
Judgment: Irreversible Condition Met
Bow.
The figures didn’t move; however, their knees started to weaken. It felt as if an unbearable weight pressed on top of them. Their backs lowered without permission. Their systems did it for them, whether they liked it or not. With all power and defiance, they refused to bend, refused to lower their heads at a child they had undone with no effort. They fought to their feet, planting firmly on the floor that the rocks started cracking from the burden.
“We cannot be wrong,” one murmured, almost in disbelief, while fighting the urgency to kneel. “This child is more than what we have anticipated.”
Another leaned away from the others. “Leave the child. Gather in the chambers, where we may discuss with Luminar. We must stop this at all costs.”
They stood frozen for a moment more. Their faces gazed at the unmoving pile of flesh and bones, almost like they were grinding their teeth.
“Then let us adjourn!”
And so, one by one, they turned. Smoke followed them as the air started to loosen up and the branches to lift from the weight. Within seconds, they were gone. It took an instant for them to appear, and so an instant did they disappear. As their presence left with wind and sound untouched by their descent, the child’s broken body remained. His molten state glowed in the cradle of a system that refused to let him die.
The light above Vynelor intensified. Thicker strands of gold snowed down to him. He was covered in it now. No drop of blood was left exposed to air. Every part of him was enveloped. A white hand silhouette reached for his head, holding it tight.
In that moment, the screen above him expanded. Lines of radiant text formed for the world to see. But it was more than just an overlay. Within his mind, it also spoke to him.
Adaptation Path — 1/5 Activated
{REDACTED} ? Lv. ???
Condition Met: HP = 0
Override Executed: Illegal Argument
> Set HP: 1 (Locked)
> Pending User Response
HP: 1 / 129
Then the screen pulsed.
OPTIONS PRESENTED
LIVE
DIE
Choose. You have 55 seconds. Choose before you cannot.
Time slowed. Maybe stopped. The countdown ticked down somewhere in the back of his mind, but it felt distant. Almost irrelevant. What does it mean to choose? How can I choose when I am like this? The world around him felt cold. He was left with his running mind, almost like he still had a choice to make. Even in this wretched state, he can still have freedom to choose. What a cursed joke, wasn’t it? A reality that couldn’t allow a child to rest, from the world that had been unfair ever since his birth. He knew every kid was running in their homes with parents watching carefully, that every one of them had a home to sleep in as they grew. What a distant thought, something that didn’t belong to his cold reality.
But then the campfire just came to his mind. That gentle warmth that never demanded attention. These were the quiet nights that never died. Just him on his little stump and the father on his. Both watching as wood charred into crystal bits until black. It was serene. It was something that shifted the pain into warmth.
51 seconds.
A quiet riverbank—another memory. The cool press of the earth under his knees. The stubborn line of water he had lifted with Telekinetic Magic. He remembered how proud he was, or how frustrated he could be when he caught no fish.
38 seconds.
And then Wallan’s hand came, resting gently over his own.
“Try it with this,” he had said, offering a long wooden rod with a string attached at the tip. “Be patient. Catch food, but also catch your impatience before you lose yourself.”
Wallan sat beside him, never taking his hand away until the boy gripped the rod. The boy watched the string land on the water, his tight expression loosening under the warmth of that quiet pride.
He looked up, seeing the rugged man’s face, the expression that seemed proud of his child.
21 seconds.
He sat beside Vynelor, watching the river flow silently. They stayed like that for hours without words exchanged, just the line trembling over quiet ripples, the sun soft on their backs. When they caught nothing at the end of the day, Wallan had to get the rod and catch one himself. But Wallan smiled anyway, caressing the child’s head.
They sat for hours, watching the river flow silently. When they caught nothing at the end of the day, Wallan had to get the rod and catch one himself. It was seamless. Vynelor pouted and whined at torso-sized fish staring at him blankly. Wallan only ruffled the boy’s hair plafully.
“You held it steady,” he’d said. “That’s all I want. Nicely done.”
5 seconds.
Time was running out. Light trembled inside his melted body, flickering with just seconds away from disappearing.
Vynelor watched all these recollections, and he reached for all these once more. His mind refused to look elsewhere than this—the next time they could sit by the fire and watch it burn as time flies by, the next time they could sit by the shore and throw another bait into the water, the next time he could make his father proud.
His mind could only say one thing:
Can we fish again? Give me the rod. I’ll do it right this time.
The screen vanished. The voice fell silent.
LIVE
The system pulsed once. And then, the pool of blood and flesh and bones moved.
