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[Skill-Eater] Chapter 1: Pivot
🕑 Added 2024-06-24 17:03:00 +0000 UTCIt wasn’t supposed to be like this.
Edge wasn’t supposed to be here.
Not really here, in the flesh, wearing a body that wasn’t his own.
Although, if what the System said was true, this was his body now.
He had never expected to find himself standing on the surface of another world. Stranded by a magical disaster that had carried his consciousness across the stars.
But he didn’t have time to worry about it now. If Edge wanted to find a way home, he had to live through the night first.
He reached out to touch the chasm’s wall, staring down at fingers that were slightly longer and thinner than the ones he’d known all his life. Shaking his head at the strangeness of it all, he dug into his backpack and pulled out the final mealbox rattling around in the bottom of the bag.
When he finished this meal, his options would dwindle down to four: hunt, forage, steal, or starve.
The problem was, Edge wasn’t strong enough to hunt, knowledgeable enough to forage, or stealthy enough to steal. Although he was pretty sure that he could ace the starving part.
While he pondered his long list of problems, he opened the box, took out a sandwich, and started to chew.
The meat was only minutes shy of rancid, and the bread was so stale that it could pass for a stone. He ate them anyway. Then he sucked up the crumbs hiding in the corners of the container and washed them down with a swig from his canteen.
If he wanted to live, Edge needed every calorie contained within the cheapest food he’d been able to buy. Even more important, he needed the magicytes infused within them. Without them, his new body would wither and die within a matter of hours.
It’s time to find out how long I have left.
“Status,” he spoke the command that let him access his menus.
A few heartbeats later, a mote of golden light separated from his chest and started hovering in front of his face.
It was Edge’s Guide, the magical assistant that the System provided to everyone living on the planet, regardless of their classification or affiliation.
A person could only see their own Guide, and they had a range of functions, only one of which was relevant now.
The wisp of gilded radiance flattened and then expanded, forming a ghostly screen that was easy to read but didn’t obstruct his view of whatever was behind it.
Personal statistics: Edge Vasher
Warning: your magicyte reserves are low.
Time remaining until fatal magicyte depletion: 9 hours 52 minutes.
Physical attributes
Power: 1 Reflex: 1 Endurance: 2 Perception: 1
Speed: 1 Control: 1 Durability: 1
Energetic attributes
Generation: 0 Amplification: 0 Disruption: 0
Core information (none)
Core type: N/A Cycle: N/A Gear: N/A
Ultimate ability: N/A Attribute points per cycle: N/A
Skills
Slash (basic): rank 1.
Empower an attack when wielding a bladed weapon.
Traits (none)
Implants (none)
System currency
Credits: 0
Mortium: 0
When Edge dismissed the screen with a wave of his hand, his Guide sank back into his chest with a faint pulse of warmth.
He let out a long sigh and picked up his backpack. Then he continued making his way through the ruins he’d found at the bottom of one of the mysterious chasms that now scarred the western plains.
There’s no point in lying to yourself. This is a tight spot. If you can’t find something worth selling down here, then cross the plains without being eaten, you won’t live to see tomorrow. If you don’t make it back to town before dawn, you’re going to starve to death.
Edge cursed his luck as he made his way through a series of moldering chambers whose contents had long since been reduced to rust and rot.
As far as he knew, he was the first person to set foot down here in centuries. If he lived long enough to pillage these depths, he might find something that would help him survive. At least, that was what he told himself to keep despair at bay.
Exploring places like this was insanely dangerous. Ancient structures were often home to vicious monsters, mechanical guardians, and devious traps.
He would normally have never even considered it. But the stark truth was that it didn’t matter if he was wagering his life on long odds, because this desperate gamble was the only game in town.
He was dead the moment that the monsters roaming the once peaceful plains found him. Even if he somehow made it back to civilization, he couldn’t afford food and shelter regardless.
On Ord, there was no such thing as a free lunch, and Edge had just eaten his last.
Trying not to think about the fact that he would probably never see another sunrise, he lifted his lantern to check its reservoir. The well was nearly dry, only enough aether to burn for another few hours, tops. When it died, Edge would be flying blind on top of everything else.
He had to scavenge the ruins, find something valuable enough to trade for a few weeks’ worth of supplies, then get the hell out of here while he still could.
Surviving had been hard enough before the anomaly unleashed its chaos upon the planet. But now that the surface had been shuffled like a deck of cards, Edge was woefully underpowered to face the danger that had risen like a wave to drown him in his own blood.
Everything would be different if he had been able to find a power core before the disaster struck. One of those mysterious artifacts unique to Ord.
Binding a core allowed anyone to channel the planet’s magic, transforming them from an ordinary person into something extraordinary. Or, more accurately, granting them the chance to become superhuman if they lived long enough to cycle-up their core and evolve it at least once.
But most hardened prisoners never even found a basic core, let alone tourists like Edge, and almost everyone who did had been living here for years.
He’d been trapped on this world for less than a week. Barely enough time to condition his first attribute and earn a basic skill, let alone start searching for a core.
He came to a stop when the passage widened, taking in what he could by the light of his lantern. The bright beam pierced the gloom like a spear, revealing the ruins ahead.
Maybe this wasn’t a city after all. It feels like everything here was set up to support that big building in the back. It might be a temple.
Since it was clear that he wasn’t going to find anything on the outskirts, Edge walked deeper into the ravine. He was heading for the intact structures in the distance, which were arranged along some manner of rise.
He crept his way closer, slipping from corner to corner, praying that nothing was living down here but moving like it was. He couldn’t do anything about the light, but most of the local predators could hear much further than they could see.
Edge thought that he heard something in the distance at one point. But after going still and listening as closely as he could, he didn’t hear it again.
When he arrived fifteen nervous minutes later, he realized that this section of the ruins was terraced. Arranged along the back of the crevice were three distinct levels of stone. Each was round, perfectly flat, and large enough to hold the dozens of buildings spread out across them.
He had never seen anything like it, not in the thousands of hours of Prison World footage he’d watched before entering his puppet and waking up on Ord.
The lowest ring was the largest by far. All the structures on it were made of wood. After a quick look at each, Edge knew that there wasn’t going to be anything good inside. They had begun eroding decades ago, letting in the elements and wild animals.
Judging from the decaying furniture, they were simple living quarters. Dwellings for the servants who had tended these grounds when the temple was in its heyday. No one who would have owned anything of value.
The second tier looked more promising. Its buildings were bigger and made of stone, connected to one another by a series of marble walkways.
Peering in through the closest window, he decided that they had once been the homes of the priests. They each had a common area and a bedroom, along with a kitchen and bath.
To his immense disappointment, most of them were ruined too, although he finally found a room whose door was still sealed.
After picking up a rock, Edge bashed the lock until the bolt gave way, terrified all the while that something nasty would hear the noise and come calling. But after the final echoes faded away, all that he could hear was his own rasping breath and racing pulse.
Praying that this room held something of value, he cracked the door open and stepped inside, encouraged by the intact furnishings he saw within.
Edge was so focused on the prospect of treasure that he screamed when he came across the skeleton. He raised his lantern before him like a talisman, heart pounding like a taiko drum, as an electric cascade of adrenaline washed over him.
For a terrifying moment, he had thought that he’d walked into a monster’s lair, one of the lethal lifeforms created by the System.
But it was clear at a glance that the person had died long ago, and not a violent death, judging by the condition of their remains. He ruthlessly suppressed his instinctual revulsion of graverobbing, then started patting down the corpse for anything of value.
At first, Edge thought that he’d struck out again. But he eventually spotted a silver pendant fastened around its neck and slipped it into his pocket. Unfortunately, it wasn’t magtech jewelry. It looked like it would sell for a few days’ worth of food at most.
It wasn’t enough to save him, and he was running out of time.
There was only one place left to explore. On the highest tier of ruins sat an imposing edifice. It had a domed ceiling and had once displayed the temple’s idol. It was the only adorned building, decorated with marble terraces and twenty or so statues.
At least he thought they were statues. Edge couldn’t be sure since each had been snapped off at the base with what must have required incredible force, leaving only ragged stumps of raw stone behind.
If anything of value was hidden down here, this was where he would find it. To keep hope alive, he’d been saving the best for last. Please, let there be something good inside. I don’t want to die like this.
As he walked over to the sprawling structure, he ran his gaze across a series of images chiseled into the walls. Carvings depicting people and events whose names he would never know. He stopped to take in a rendering of an immense creature covered in chains, captivated by its intricate detail.
The piece resonated with him on a primal level. Touched something deep inside that he’d never known was there.
Edge realized in that moment that he had no idea where these ruins came from. If the System had created them with its magic, or they were part of the lost history of the planet.
He honestly didn’t care.
It didn’t change what he had to do, and uncovering the truth was way above his paygrade. But if he had to bet, he would wager that this place was the real deal. There was a sense of weight here, of sacred purpose, that made him feel like these walls had been standing for millennia.
A few more steps saw him to the temple’s entrance. The instant that he stepped past the threshold, Edge saw something slithering in the periphery of his vision, accompanied by a series of ghostly clinks.
But when he turned to look, there was nothing there. The room was still and quiet as a tomb.
The stress is finally starting to get to you. Keep your shit together for just a little longer. You can sleep for a week if you can loot enough to afford it.
Guided by the light of his lantern, a wide beam that lit up the room, he began picking through garbage and muck, searching for anything of value buried in the debris.
By the time that Edge made it to the back of the altar room, he was beginning to despair. The idol that had once been on display was nowhere to be found, and there wasn’t anywhere else to look.
Desperate, he began running his hands along the engravings, searching for anything that might reveal a concealed passage or hidden cache.
He kept his breathing slow and steady, struggling to keep panic from consuming him. His lantern would die in a few short hours, and his hope for a future would die with it.
Come on Edge, think. If you were going to build a secret door, where would you put it? It can’t be along the walls since you already saw the other side of them.
That was when it hit him. The altar. If there was anything hidden in here, it had to be concealed beneath the massive slab of marble in the middle of the room.
He walked over to it, running his fingertips along every exposed surface. He began pushing, twisting, and pulling at the stonework, trying to solve the puzzle by brute force. Assuming that there was something to find to begin with.
Just as Edge was about to give up and return to the surface with only the pendant, the section of marble beneath his finger moved, sinking in with a faint, yet oh so satisfying, click.
He threw himself back, eyes wide from trying to look everywhere at once, certain that he’d just set off a lethal trap. But then, to his overwhelming relief, a panel in front of the altar stone slid back, revealing a space below.
On guard against danger from without and within, Edge walked over to the cavity, lifted his lamp, and looked inside.
---
There are moments when your whole life pivots. When the road you’ve been walking down merges with something else entirely. Something new, beyond your wildest imagination.
An instant where, when you’re lying on your deathbed and contemplating your legacy, you can point to that moment and say, “There. That was where it all began.”
Most of the time, you don’t recognize them until much later. But sometimes, in the blink of an eye, you’re consumed by the overwhelming recognition that your entire existence is about to change.
As for Edge, he knew.
For just the ghost of a moment, he knew. Before the sensation gave way like a mirage drawn near, leaving him looking down into a cavity the size of a refrigerator, wondering what the fuck had just happened.
All such thoughts were driven from his head the moment that he saw the reliquary.
In the back of the hollow, a crystal pedestal rose from the floor. It was beautiful, with gleaming facets that cast wild checkers of light across the enclosure when lit up by his lamp.
However, it wasn’t the pedestal that made his heart race with the thrill of avarice, but the rune-covered sphere that sat on top of it, shining with its own inner light.
At first, Edge couldn’t grasp what he was looking at. It wasn’t a chest or anything he had seen in the countless hours of puppet footage he’d watched before buying his own.
But then he remembered something he’d read on an obscure forum long ago. A wild claim that rare repositories known as reliquaries would grant their finders the rarest and most powerful of cores.
Cores sealed in glowing orbs bound by ancient runes… just like the one that Edge was looking at now.
His suspicions were confirmed when his Guide appeared without being summoned. It floated over to touch the ornate container before flashing a prompt in front of his disbelieving eyes.
You have discovered a rune-bound reliquary containing core type: [R̸̲̠̀̈͗̏è̶̪͎͉͆͝d̴͎͓̈́̑̈͝a̷̗̅̃́͆c̴̫̊͘ẗ̵̤̳́̔̎è̷͓̺͗̿͝ḍ̵̨̡̀̀̆͑].
Would you like to break the seal and claim the contents?
After a moment’s confusion about the glitchy text, the first time that Edge had seen his Guide malfunction, the realization of what he was reading broke over him and a shiver went down his spine.
His heart hammered in his chest. Pins and needles danced across his fingertips. Every fiber of his being resounded with the word “core.”
Just as he’d begun to lose hope, a chance of living to see tomorrow had appeared.
In that instant, Edge knew with complete and utter certainty that whatever was locked inside the reliquary would irrevocably change his life. That he was standing on the precipice of something far beyond his comprehension.
With one small step, he would cross the threshold of fate, leaving his old self behind to become something new. Something greater.
“Hell yes.” He didn’t hesitate for a heartbeat.
It was the easiest decision of Edge’s life. Because no matter what came next after this glorious moment of anticipation, it couldn’t be worse than the alternative.
Transfer of guardian seal acknowledged. Initiating shutdown of core containment field.
The process will be complete in approximately: 5 minutes.
A core. There really is one in there. He danced from foot to foot, eager to claim his prize before it slipped through his fingers. This was exactly the kind of opportunity that he’d been hoping to find.
No, it was far better than anything he could have imagined.
Just when Edge was starting to believe that his luck had finally changed, he heard voices echoing out from the chamber behind him, sending a raging tide of adrenaline surging into his veins.
“Give us whatever’s in the box, puppet. We know that you were able to break the seal. We heard the notification.”
“You don’t have to die today, tourist. You’re uncored, so killing you won’t pay out mortium anyway. There’s no reason that this has to get ugly… unless you insist on doing it the hard way.”
Edge didn’t have to think to know the men were lying. Whoever they were, they wouldn’t let him live after seeing their faces. Not if he was right about why they were down here and what was inside the reliquary.
They didn’t seem to realize that it hadn’t been opened yet, or that Edge had found the receptacle for a rare type of core. They would kill him the moment they did.
They were probably planning to murder him anyway. It wasn’t a coincidence that they were down here with Edge and only revealing themselves now.
I think those two are the only ones out there, judging by the sound of their footsteps. He considered his options while drawing his knife, trying to find a way out of this mess with his blood still inside his body.
While this was a bad situation, he could still gain the upper hand. If the people coming for him weren’t cored, he just might have a chance.
The moment that Edge peeked one eye past the altar, he could see through the doorway. What he glimpsed filled him with an icy dread.
Because what had him cornered was just as dangerous as any monster.
Jailbirds. Cored, both of them.
