In front of him, a section of the world, of space itself, blurred and thickened, reality stretching like glass under pressure.
Glowing letters and runes assembled, line by line, forming neat rows on a translucent sheet that unfurled directly before his eyes.
It happened quickly, almost instantaneously.
...
•Name: Uriel Ymir Loom
•True Name: [None]
•True Title: [None]
—
•Race: Human—{Undefined}
•Lineage: <Dormant>
•Lineal Axis: <Dormant>
—
•>Evolutionary Spark Frame: <None>
•>Origin Evolution Spark Frame: <None>
•>Limiter: Ex (+) Rank
...
•Ascendant Step: First Step
•Minor Stage: G Rank
•Class: <Classless>
—
>Grade: <None>
>Echelon: <None>
>Nobility: <None>
...
>Source Element: <Dormant>
>Source Affinity: <Dormant>
>Source Manifestation: <Dormant>
>Source Bane: <Undefined>
...
>Natal Spark: <Lost Sparks of Heart and Voice>
>Starless Spark: <Dormant>
>Forbidden Taboo Spark: <Dormant>
—
>Lineal Spark Talent: <None>
>Lineal Spark Trait: <None>
>Spark Characteristic: <None>
>Uniqueness: <None>
...
It was a lot.
A good amount of it he could understand, thanks to Ayah’s lengthy explanations, but he was still mostly unfamiliar with the system as a whole.
And it didn’t help that his mind, though relatively clear, still felt distant, slightly detached. If anything, checking his status only worsened it, the flood of information intense enough to leave him reeling.
"It really is like a game, a bit," he muttered softly.
Enoch stood and stretched to his feet. "But it isn’t. The weave-system is a reflection of your soul, just as innate as the spark itself."
"Thinking it’s all a game is probably the number one cause of death out there."
He stepped out of the arranged ritual circle of aether crystals, picked up a set of clothes he’d prepared earlier, and tossed them toward Uriel.
"Put this on. We’re going out to eat."
Taking a few crystals from Uriel’s large pile and storing them away, he changed as well, stripping out of his sweat-soaked clothes and putting on a fresh set.
"I’ll explain as we walk and eat. Then we’ll swing by the shop. Or maybe the hall. We’ll see."
"Hurry."
...
They exited Uriel’s dimensional space and made their way down to the lobby, preparing to head out.
On their way, they noticed the hall was full, packed far more than before, with many more attendants present to assist Lady Ayah in her work.
Most of the crowd complained loudly, trying to bargain for a dimensional gate of their own, or at the very least the right to rent one.
And, surprisingly, it seemed such deals were possible.
’Mm. Makes sense,’ Uriel thought. ’They wouldn’t have made the emporium that big just for the elite few. They probably expected the others to show up with things to trade.’
He glanced at one of Ayah’s attendants, a man locked in a heated discussion with another holding a gigantic sword, its surface covered in strange, crawling inscriptions.
The sword bearer insisted it had to be enough, his voice raised in frustration as he tried to push the weapon forward.
’I still wonder, though,’ Uriel mused, ’what’s the point? If they own the shops and everything in it, and are in on everything that’s happening, what do they gain from workers, trading goods, all that infrastructure?’
He turned to Enoch. "Hey," he began. "Are the Inhumans... like us?"
Enoch raised a brow. "Like us? In what sense?"
They exited the hall and stepped into the rain-soaked streets of the settlement, where crowds moved in steady streams. Everyone wore leather armor or some variation of it, weapons strapped to backs, hips, or hands.
Uriel almost got distracted.
Some people didn’t even look human anymore. Their skin had turned reptilian, others bore bodies half-formed of wood, stone, or ice, and some had gained entirely new limbs altogether.
"Woah... incredible," he guffawed at the sight of the newly budding warriors of humanity. ’How the hell did they get their evolutions so fast? Am I late?’
"Uriel?"
He snapped back. "Oh, uh, yeah. I meant it like... they’re dragged into this against their will too, right? Same as us."
"If our goal is to survive and get stronger, theirs feels like making sure we do, and profiting off it. Probably incentives we don’t see. Quests, maybe."
Enoch nodded slowly. "Not that far off. But yeah, they’re in this just like us."
"I can’t say much, but unless it’s a Guide, treat them as equals."
"They can die just the same. They start just as weak as we do, though they grow much faster."
"It’s almost infuriating how fast," he grumbled under his breath. "Once we’re thrown out there, you’ll see how truly inhuman they get."
"Uh huh," Uriel replied absently, already beginning to tune out Enoch’s old-man rambling.
Something else had caught his attention.
They walked on, brushing past men and women, old and young alike, a crowd brimming with wildly different abilities and presences.
The chatter that blanketed the settlement harmonized with the soft drizzle falling from above and the gentle winds tugging at skin and cloth alike.
Some people walked anxiously, still unaccustomed to their new reality. Others ran with boundless joy, freed at last from the chains of modern society and their former lives.
Most hovered somewhere in between, equal parts excited and terrified.
But there was more. So much more.
Anger. Lust. Joy. Piety. Greed. Fear. Hope.
It all blended and sparked throughout the settlement, a living tapestry of emotion.
And Uriel could see it all. Sense it all.
With a glance, he peered into the hearts of passersby, sinking into the deepest layers of their being; their greatest fears, highest dreams, most forbidden desires, and darkest secrets.
With another, he felt as though he could stir it with a thought; turn mild irritation into burning rage, passing nostalgia into soul-crushing sorrow, spark joy into mind-numbing euphoria.
He could see everything.
’...So that’s my spark...’
[You have comprehended more of your spark!]
[Your Spark has reached the Iron Grade!]
Uriel kept walking, but he closed his eyes.
He wanted to test something.
Sight vanished, yet sensation remained. In the darkness behind his eyelids, a world of color bloomed, countless hearts around him, each painted in shifting shades of emotion.
’How beautiful.’