[The qualification was hidden. A convergence of extreme emotional pressure, a will pushed to its breaking point, and the potential for significant metaphysical change. You met that threshold. And thus, you won the System.]
’Won the System,’ he thought. So it wasn’t just a random assignment. He had, in some way, earned this, even if the earning had come from the worst moments of his life.
"Are there others?" He asked, a new thought striking him. "Other ’players,’ like me? Did they meet different qualifications? Get different rewards?"
[Yes. Other individuals have been chosen. They met varied qualifications and received rewards commensurate with those catalysts. Some received innate abilities, others specialized artifacts, or unique knowledge.]
He considered that. Other people out there, with their own systems or powers, chosen for their own reasons. The world was a lot bigger and weirder than he’d initially thought, even after the dungeons and monsters.
A small smirk appeared on his face. He couldn’t resist. "So," he said, his voice laced with a faint, challenging tone. "Out of all these rewards, all these different players... which one was the best?"
The System paused for a fraction longer than usual before replying. When the text box appeared, he could almost sense a matching hint of smugness in its concise lettering.
[The reward you received is demonstrably superior.]
He let out a quiet laugh, a genuine sound of amusement that surprised even himself. The System, this powerful, unknown entity, had a bit of an ego. Or maybe it was just stating a fact from its perspective. Either way, it was... unexpected.
He stood up from the ledge, stretching his arms above his head. The conversation had answered some questions but raised a dozen more. His soul had been evolving. So that power surge earlier wasn’t random, it was already all this time, it just needed the right push.
He began doing some light squats, feeling the pull in his thighs, the familiar rhythm of physical exertion.
[What is the purpose of this current activity?]
He didn’t stop his movement. ’Warming up.’
[Clarification requested: warming up for what specific endeavor?]
He could almost sense the System’s awareness, as if it already knew his answer but was prompting him to articulate it. He finished a squat and stood straight. ’I’m going to use that Corrupted Mana right now. Test it out. See what it can actually do beyond just patching me up ugly.’
[Caution: The nature of Corrupted Mana is inherently volatile. Your recent physical trauma and the incomplete recovery from the mana core formation process suggest a period of rest would be more beneficial. Proceeding with experimentation carries a notable risk of further physical strain or unforeseen energetic backlash.]
He acknowledged the warning with a nod.
’Noted. But I need to know what I’m working with.’ He wasn’t the type to sit around waiting for things to be perfect. Perfection was a luxury he’d never had, and he doubted this new world was about to start handing it out.
He needed to understand this power, this darker energy that now resided within him. If it was going to have ’unforeseen consequences,’ he’d rather start finding out what those were on his own terms, not in the middle of another fight.
He stopped the squats and found a relatively clear patch of broken pavement. He closed his eyes, drawing his focus inward, reaching for that sensation he’d felt earlier – the thicker, heavier presence within his mana core.
It responded almost immediately, a resonant thrum deep in his chest. It wasn’t like the neutral, ambient mana he’d first tried to weave; this felt different, almost alive, like a coiled serpent stirring from sleep. It was potent, carrying an undercurrent of something fierce and untamed.
He started simple, gently coaxing it to flow from his core, up through his arm. It moved sluggishly at first, like thick oil through a narrow pipe, but then it picked up speed, a current of profound energy washing through his limb. His arm tingled, a pins-and-needles sensation, but with an underlying thrum of power.
’not too bad for the firs try,’ he thought, opening his eyes and looking at his right arm. It looked normal, but it felt... charged. He focused again, picturing that dark energy, visualizing it not just flowing within him, but extending outwards. He pushed.
A faint, shadowy mist began to exude from his arm, swirling around it like a dark vapor. It wasn’t solid, just an ethereal extension of the energy he was projecting. He nudged it further, trying to stretch it out, to make it more substantial. The mist thickened, coalescing, the particles drawing closer together.
Then, he tried to compress it. He imagined those swirling particles of dark energy being forced together, squeezed down, until they had nowhere else to go but to bind to each other, to become something more than mist. It was an intense mental effort, requiring a level of concentration he wasn’t used to. He could feel his mana points draining fast.
Sweat beaded on his forehead. The misty shroud around his arm began to condense, its edges becoming more defined. The swirling shadows seemed to crystallize, darkening from a smoky gray to a deep, light-absorbing black.
A layer of solid, dark mana now encased his right arm from shoulder to fingertips. It wasn’t bulky like armor; it was sleek, like a second skin made of polished obsidian, perfectly contoured to his own form. It didn’t gleam; instead, it seemed to drink the light around it, making his arm look like a piece of the night sky had been grafted onto his body.
He flexed his fingers. The solidified mana moved with him, perfectly responsive, an extension of his own will. His arm felt heavier, yes, but also immensely more powerful, as if the very bones and muscles beneath the dark coating had been reinforced with something unyielding.
He looked at his transformed limb, a slow, considering expression on his face. This was new. And it felt... right. Corrupted Mana, this dark power, was something he was meant to wield.
The System remained silent. Nox hadn’t asked it for its opinion on his success. He didn’t need to. He could feel the power himself.