Mara slept through the night under the weight of triple-blankets, doing her best to hide from the consequences of her actions. Hiding from what she had done. Hiding from her crimes against -what should have been- a very inanimate object. She shuddered. Her blanket-cocoon shivering in turn as she recalled the events of her last night. The writhing... -creature- of magic... Its frantic lashings of agony... its violent convulsions... The devastating spiral of collapse that sent itself into a dissonant dispersion, like a thousand-strong orchestra accelerating until its tempo overtook its capabilities. In the end, she didn't exactly know -what- she had done, but the guilt was hers to bear. But the experience had merit, or at least that was what she kept telling herself. She couldn't not. She'd seen something in the depths, something that now hid within the dark recesses of her mind. Something that flared like a dying star in the celestial wake that was her despair. Something that promised a light at the end of it all.

She knew now that certain things were okay to do to magic, or at least she was beginning to understand that. Give it a playground to run circles in and it'll sit happy within a stone wall for an eternity. But runes had sigils, they had avenues of inference. Endpoints of interaction. They were the agreement, things that could be used to her heart's content, triggering traps, deactivating locks, and even dissipating the lingering structure. But to break down those hedges? Stomp on its gardens? Smash down its walls? That would -free- it. Giving it a freedom that would be unconstrained, without purpose. Wild. Destructive. Like a genie gone mad without their lamp. An actual, terrifying, haunting, honest-to-primordial-gods, manifestation of pure -chaos-.

Mara sucked in her breath as she -recalled- the event, her Runic Recollection skill forcing the moment to last infinitely longer as it appended unparalleled detail into her mind. It was like watching an overcrowded lifeboat go up in flames, just because of a desire to know more about fire-related sea-accidents. She wasn't even disgusted with herself, she was well past that point. She wasn't even sure if she recognized herself, but her transgressions remained. She remained. Her and her self-loathing stigmas remained. But she had to face the reality of it, her actions were in the past. What was done was done. She couldn't change any of it, even if she wanted to, so she was left stunned, fundamentally incapable of 'letting it go'.

Mara had killed -something-, it was unquestionable. She didn't need to be a rune-whisperer to know the difference between her usual dismissal of them when they were 'whole' and what she had done just a few hours before. She wasn't going to settle that one like over-packed luggage. It just felt so -wrong-, but she hadn't gotten a kill notification. It gave her reason to pause, she wasn't even sure if they existed, but it gave her a reason to hope. And in her wallowing despair, she needed that hope. It was good to have, like the light at the end of a very dark tunnel.

Rolling under her blankets like a caterpillar, Mara struggled to free an arm for snacks, worming around until a ring-clad hand jutted out of her tightly wrapped cocoon, freeing itself to fetch a bit of a berry-snack to brighten her mood. However, what it found was an empty pack where there should have been juicy deliciousness. That's not right, there's supposed to be berries there.

Sitting up as she tore away her crinkley-furry mass like a butterfly escaping its molting, Mara double-checked her hand's findings. The pouch was indeed empty. She'd finished it off the last time the urge to depression-munch came over her. She frowned at herself, but had to relent. After all, if her stomach was anything to go by, it was almost dinner time. I guess a little fresh air and harvesting might help, she thought, hoping off her bunk in search of her pack. I'll probably have to skip my evening run, but... I should be fine.

Collecting her gear, Mara avoided eye contact with the elephant-in-the-rune as she scuttled down their shared hallway, seeking refuge in the airlock. Relying on the cable, as had become the norm, Mara triggered the double-door chamber, filling her vision with a dim orange amber. A soft and wary hue that radiated against the earthy browns and well-baked greens of the forest floor, signaling the recession of her safety and an urgency to her harvest. Sundown... Shit.

Mara hesitated, time was ticking, danger was looming, and her stomach was growling. She could still head out, do a quick loop, and maybe get a pocket full of berries before nightfall. But I'd be throwing a lot of caution to the wind, and for what? An evening snack? ...No. Not worth it.

Taking the warning signs for what they were, Mara spun around and started re-activating the airlock to head back inside. Honestly, I've been spoiling myself. These rings have made it too easy, but there's no such thing as 'easy' here. I can't forget that. No stores, no restaurants. It's a forest, as wild as it is wide. And I haven't even been storing a backup supply for a rainy day- not that it seems to rain here. I've been really irresponsible lately and I can't keep that up if I'm going to survive out here.

However squeamish it makes me feel, I can't take it at 'face' value. It's as human as I am squid. Maybe that's the natural state of magic, how it wants to be even if it doesn't know it. I mean, Trace is halfway to three now and RR tripled its level. So whatever I did, it massively benefited my skills, I can't just ignore that. Plus, it's faster than analysis and dispersal, so it gets me to the hatch faster, to actual food, sooner rather than later, or at least it might. Eyeing the crater at the end of the corridor, still a pit of rubble like she'd left it the night before, Is it really any different from killing a monster? A net positive accomplished through short-term negatives? I'm basically smashing stones together to make fire out here, I can't exactly be expected to have mastered the art of a 'clean kill'- Which I really hope isn't what I'm doing.

But... there was no kill notification, and I've got maybe a hundred runes left. I can either keep doing what I've been doing, or I can seize this... -thing- and 'power level'... Fidgeting with the hem of her hoodie as she trudged over to her questionable crime-scene, Mara stopped as she stared into the cavity. I know which one I'd choose in a heart-beat if this was a game... but... it's not. I'm pretty sure of that now. You couldn't fake that. She lingered, a moment of silence for the rune she'd removed, unsure if it truly meant anything or not, and then moved to the next rune. Trace and Debug teaming up on a particularly nasty trap called 'Nature's Screwdriver', prompting a panel she quickly dismissed. I don't even want to know what that description says.

Mara lingered over the edge of the rune, swirls of vine-like green dancing intricate patterns under the sleek-grey stone beneath her. She had two options, the slow and questionably 'moral' path, or the fast and 'effective' path. Diligently study the 'text-book', or speed-cram off the -spark- notes? It wasn't a debate. It was just a choice to pull a lever, she just didn't know what was at the bottom of the pit.

Oh, whatever. I was going to hell anyways. She voided away the concrete beneath her like she was voiding a warranty on her soul. She'd settle with the consequences of her actions when they came knocking. For now, she was getting to the bottom of this, feet first. With a grimace, she ripped open the still-beating heart of the nature rune and plunged her hand straight into the now-floating green mass of squirming magical vines.

Several things happened when Mara violated several, usually taboo, things, the first was the near-instant cascading destabilization of local sub-spaces, resulting in a 'back-draft' of magic she wasn't even aware of. The second, and likely more immediately alarming thing, was the escalation that resulted when her mana began to intermingle with the currents of the still-living rune.

Tendrils of green shot up her arm, past the rainbow of colors that Trace was sending back towards the epicenter. Mara watched as the invasive nature magic penetrated her skin, plunging into her body as it cascaded around her. It thrashed inside like a wounded animal, unrelenting in its violent tantrum until the magic construct maintaining it faced its collapse. It wasn't until the green wisps vanished from her skin that Mara stopped clenching her teeth and let out a breath.

The experience had left her scared, Mara felt like her insides were on fire. Magic had flared up across her frame, leaving cracks of skin and mild burns as it danced across her like lightning. The experience was like standing in a microwave, or at least that's what she thought, but she never broke eye contact. You didn't do that with a wild animal. And if she was going to study it, she would have to 'free it'. And then, like a wild animal in a hunting trap, it would thrash. But that was what she wanted, to be there, in that moment, setting it free so that she could understand why it wasn't.

The rune had exploded like an emerald supernova, the magic forcing egress through every available fracture of its tantrum, which happened to include parts of Mara's arm at the time. Blood vessels tremored, muscles spasmed, and tendons tightened, but she never looked away. The rupture only appeared for a moment, a beautiful, haunting moment, but in that moment, she could see it. She could see it all.

A magi-mechanical marvel of whatever science or divinity that had endowed it with existence, the rupture snapped closed before she could do much more than gape at the internals. She had seen the zenith of multi-dimensional space, a realm of magical opera capable of producing the most beautiful vines or the most vicious of thorns. But it was gone all too soon, her viridescent window into another realm quickly fading into the gaping maws of nothingness that were her experience pools.

Mara's mouth hung open as her arm finally fell limp, no longer anchored to the epicenter by the rapid magical collapse. But the bruising pain throbbing up past her shoulder didn't even register as Trace practically coated her eyes in light at the ensuing dissipation of magic, feasting on the moment to fuel its evolution.

<<

Skill Advanced: Trace III

Trace mana circuits in parallel.

[13/512]

>>

<<

Skill Advanced: Runic Recollection IV

Your actions will continue to haunt you despite your capacity to temporarily displace your discomfort. Experience an equally irritating capacity to recall that which plagues you so.

[109/1024]

>>

Mara heard the 'dings' before she could even look at them, forced to shake the multi-colored static from her eyes before she could strain to confirm her accomplishments. Wow... Thanks for the upbeat encouragement RR. If this is about the nickname, then I'm not apologizing- At least Trace is getting with the program, though it's strange that it didn't get 'daemon'ed' at level three, at least that's how it worked with Debug. Maybe it varies per skill? Or does it just need more time?

Mara's lips flattened as she dismissed the panels, not getting exactly the progress she was looking for. But she understood, no matter her path, she wasn't going to find it easy. Eyeing the next half-dozen runes, Mara let Trace flex its new 'parallel' chops as she started voiding a hole for each. If I'm doing this, I'm not going to drag it out. So you better keep up Trace, we're going to crack this enigma before I run out of runes.

Mara dedicated the entirety of the night to her work, carving endless shallow depressions into the corridor as the light 'dings' of system notifications and 'fwooops' of air void provided the only noises bold enough to disturb her suffocating mausoleum, besides perhaps the rapid 'thump-thump's of her overly-excited heartbeat. She wasn't steeling herself to dissect rune after rune like a late-night coroner working downtown. No, her morgue was like a monster-truck rally. Destruction and mayhem for the sole reason of an unforgettable -experience-. She was accumulating levels like someone who found an exploit in monster drop rates, and she was only getting faster.

< Skill Advanced: Trace IV >

< Skill Advanced: Runic Recollection V >

< Skill Advanced: Runic Recollection VI >

< Skill Advanced: Trace V >

< Skill Advanced: Runic Recollection VII >

< Skill Advanced: Debug IV >

Pausing her tirade against the stability of the local magic installations, Mara eyed her most recent notification. Debug had somehow leveled without her. When did I?... I know it's been accumulating experience from somewhere, but enough to level? She looked around, only half the runes still active. I guess it -has- been a while. Her stomach grumbled like a kid forgotten in the back of a school bus after a long day. Yeah, okay, fair enough, I could definitely do with some breakfast.

Leaving behind the swiss-cheese reminder of her night's abhorrent rampage, now only meters from the hatch, she grabbed her pack and headed back to the front door. She could finish later and her shoulders were more than sore after hunching over runes all night and her legs were as stiff as boards. A nice afternoon run would do her good and she could do a bit more harvesting on her way to get dinner and stockpile for future slip-ups.

Not that I have any idea how long the berries will keep, but I can always replenish them with a bit more work. Maybe a few days in here- oh- wait. I'm an idiot! I've basically got a couple of fridges in the lab, and where have I been!? I've been out here eating luke-warm berries for weeks- Jeez... I haven't been this engrossed in a while, I can't believe I didn't think of them until now.

Opening the entrance hatch to a morning sky filled with wispy clouds, Mara breathed deep, exchanging her stale stone air for the fresh dew-laden breeze of an early forest morning. Oh well, can't exactly lament I overlooked a pair of iceboxes. I mean, I've never been the most 'present' person when I start obsessing over something, and having a 'fridge' now is just a bonus, so there's no sense harping over the fact that I've been thicker than caramelizing sugar as of late.

Grinning to herself as she strolled out under the daylight, Mara skipped across one of her familiar step-stone crossings to land on the far bank. Her light landing met with a light tap-and-crunch as the pebbles shifted under her weight. Finding her footing, Mara set about scouting a fresh harvest 'trail'. It wasn't hard, she found what she was looking for almost immediately in a swath of unbroken canopy. She was really just looking for an easy stretch of un-butchered forest to idle through as she was already zoning out to reflect on what she'd learned that morning. Reflecting on her runic 'lessons' as she set about 'afk farming' a few dozen tree-and-berry clusters like she was cracking walnuts over an open fire.

She'd been waging a one-woman magical elimination against all that was runes, or at least that's how it seemed. But she had her hopes, no kill notifications meant no killing. And that means, despite how it looks, despite how it feels, I'm not doing anything entirely unforgivable. She blew apart a dense batch of trees without even looking, too distracted by her own thoughts to care about exactly where she was aiming. All the possible pain and suffering she might have been inflicting had been in the name of progress, and it wasn't a question of whether she wanted to or not. She needed to. And the results spoke for themselves. Her questionable 'sins' had been fueling her with explosive growth, like she'd been carving out a deal with the devil. Maybe I am-- Or maybe I have. The Pedestal didn't really have much to say on who put that portal in my apartment, and after all this? I can't exactly deny there might be actual magical 'things' that go along with all those fairytales.

Dropping her pack next to her latest -timber-, Mara began plucking berries from the freshly-exposed shrubs. Maybe I'm just beating myself up over nothing, it certainly looks, no -feels- like I'm doing something -really- wrong, but... She double-checked her lore, Hexadex just hit seventy-percent with the last rune. Am I really in the wrong here, or is this just the 'human' in me? Looking down at her Half-Elf hands filled with berries, If only I was half-space-elf, then I wouldn't have to deal with pesky things like feelings... It could all just be -logical-. With a 'hmmf' and a huff, Mara dumped the rest of her haul in her pack, verified she'd grabbed everything still edible, and shouldered her pack to make for the next bundle of trees.

Mara spent the remainder of her time filling up her pack with equal amounts of distracted efficiency, until it was full enough to warrant concerns about spilling. Figuring that it was a good stopping point, Mara snacked on a handful of her berries on the way back home, trying her best to quell her tumultuously-empty beast of a stomach.

It's weird I haven't been nauseous yet, maybe these berries are good for me? I mean, my headache -has- been pretty mellow for the last few days, maybe there's something to that. The discomfort from both is still there, so I'm not exactly over it, but I definitely suffered through worse nearly every day back in highschool... It can't be the food though... I mean, if I'm to believe the squids, it's supposed to be radiation poisoning, not an iron deficiency... Sooo, maybe I'm fine? Or maybe one of my skills is doing something?

Now a little less food-motivated, Mara had gotten curious. She was doing marginally better. She shouldn't be. Not by any metric she was aware of. She had Debug pull up her 'character sheet'. A panel she'd rarely looked at since her stay in her concrete abode began, save the few instances she pulled it up to check on something specific.

Mara let out a low whistle as she saw the vastly different panel appear before her, Debug had been busy. The panel had morphed considerably, an entirely new structure, new names, new categories, and on top of it all, -everything- had been fully Debug'ed.

Even -that- skill.

<<

Name: Mara Odinavi (Mara)

Race: Elevae-Daemon (Half-Elf)

● Dominant variant can be changed once every (24h).

● Racial bias varies based on acclimating actions, Daemon has regained 1% from Daemon Root lore.

● Dominant Variants: [2]

○ Elevae: (Elf) [52%]

■ Reclusive Humanoid Fae - Known Ancestor to Elves.

■ Extensions developing in each auricle-helix, decreased reliance on heavy proteins.

○ Daemon: (Demon) [48%]

■ Rebellious Humanoid Entity - Previous Assert Cancelled

■ Increased magic fidelity, decreased system compatibility

Class: Runie I (Runic Acolyte)

● You're a mess, in more ways than one, latching on to the first signs of magic like a giant-squid. A truly fitting runic groupie if there ever was one, so go be the magic hippie you so want to be and maybe you'll even figure out how to do something more than 'collect-em-all'.

● A unique but predominantly academic class with nearly zero combat potential, primarily focusing on providing an educational foundation to Hex magic.

Titles: (N/A)

Stats: (M.D.)

● System values representing your capacity for action.

● A value of 10 is average for your race(s), 20 is double the norm.

● Values: [0]

○ Str: 6

■ How many berries you can smash

○ Dex: 16

■ How well you can peel a berry

○ Agi: 8

■ How fast you can dodge a berry

○ Con: 10

■ How well you can take a berry

○ Mana: 18

■ How many berries you can make

○ Fate: 13

■ How many berries you're given

Skills: [4]

● System services based on class dedication and personal growth.

● Abilities are progressed and molded by gaining tangential experience.

● Passive: [1]

○ Runic Recollection VII: [468/8192]

■ The weight of your sins will continue to weigh as heavy on your shoulders as it does your mind, steeling your heart to your actions will no longer spare you from your demons.

■ A skill devoted to the recollection of your personal runic knowledge.

● Reactive: [0]

● Active: [1]

○ Trace V: [1380/2048]

■ Trace mana circuits in parallel with increased fidelity.

■ A unique skill focussed on tracing magic, excelling in rune-work.

● Daemon: [1]

○ Debug IV: [97/1024]

■ Debug with permitted functionality.

■ A unique skill used to identify and remove errors.

● Divine: [1]

○ Yolo ?

■ You only live once, right?

■ Under duress, you can become a re-source.

Lore: [3]

● The surface on each side of a bird's head between the eye and the upper base of the beak, or between the eye and nostril in snakes.

● An eclectic collection, each Lore appears to be unique in merit, purpose, and progress.

● Race:

○ Abyss Shifter:

■ Who are you? The scent of untouched lingers upon your existence. You have crossed through that which cannot be crossed, be warned.

■ A unique lore of unknown origins or purpose, a dormant lore.

○ Daemon Root: [0]

■

■ The unique and prime lore of the rebellious Daemon race, capable of 'infecting' Active skills that meet vulnerability requirements.

● Class:

○ Hexadex: [70%]

■ An archive of accumulating hex-based magic, bonus experience gains in derivative skills based on -volume-.

■ A mostly-dormant unique lore, possibly related to the progression of the Runie class. Accumulating runic knowledge appears to 'increase density'.

>>

It was a veritable info-dump on all things Mara, and it was clear Debug had been working non-stop since she'd last checked in on it. Is this what you've been up to, you sneaky rascal? Grinning, she scrolled through the panel, finding herself more than happy with most of Debug's work. Except... You really didn't need to debug the divine one. Or maybe you did? That is your 'modus operandi' after all.

Tabbing back through the sections, Mara found them collapsible and well documented, causing her to pause next to the 'Race' section. The option to change her dominant race just a finger-tap away, all she had to do was press it.

Mmmmmmmm... Nah, Mara thought, lifting her finger from the Daemon 'button'. I might be doing some pretty fucked-up shit to runes in there, but I don't think I'm ready to 'embrace' -that- whole can of worms. Jamming closed the Race section until it just said 'Half-Elf' next to it, Mara skimmed down the rest of the panel, trying not to think about what level of hell she was going to.

I'm nearly double my races' mana and dex, and better than average in most others. Not that I know what 'average' is for either of them, and it's a bummer the individual stats don't have any more information to them. Like, 'Fate' seems like a pretty big wild card, and 'The number of berries I'm given'? What nonsense is that about? She eyed the description again, then looked back at her lowest stats. I guess strength and agility is understandable, I'm basically an indoor twig at this point. Honestly, I'd have been more surprised if they were higher! -Though... I wonder... Will they go up if I actually put in an effort during my runs? Or am I now point-bound for eternity, strapped to the physique dictated by my stats? ...Stats. What a weird concept.

Looking up, she spotted her horizontal obelisk over the top of her 'information station', a last call to double-check for any other bits or quips she might have missed. Well... I can't say much for my divine skill. Knowing -that- doesn't really answer a lot of questions, it honestly just adds more. Like what counts as 'under duress'? Or what does it mean by 're-source'? Is that a pun? And on top of it all, apparently my skills are 'molded by tangential experience'? Is it too much to ask for a manual?!

Mara mock-shouted at the heavens, only ever so slightly considering that there might be something watching her from that direction. Well... Maybe that's why RR has been so hostile in its descriptions- I mean, all I've been filling it with has been runic 'death' and destruction... They've been valuable lessons though, the experience speaks for itself... I guess I can live with the hostility, I do kind-of deserve it.

Reaching the far bank of the river, Mara felt the water lapping at her feet, pulling her out of her idle contemplation. She dismissed her bulky briefing as she looked up. It'll be worth it. I'll either make it up to RR or I'll eventually find a different skill to replace it. It's not like it's -not- doing what it's supposed to be doing, it's just being a -passive- dick about it. She chuckled at her really poor taste in humor, hopping from stone to stone as she cleared the crystal waters and headed back inside.

The 'fridges' were waiting for her when she entered the lab, the two vials of ashen-grey hair-of-Mara still rested on the floor beneath them, untouched since from where they'd rolled to after she dropped them. Something about them grabbed at her attention, her gaze lingering on them... But she wasn't there for them, she had a backpack full of berries that needed cooling, and then she was out. This room can keep its -vial- secrets for all I care, she thought, shoving her pack to the floor as she yanked a fridge door open, They should have stayed -berried- for all the good it's done me. She paused, halfway through haphazardly piling berries onto the shelves.

She was wrong, they'd done more than just taunt her. They meant more to her than that. They were a critical building block in the swell of persuasion that set her upon her current heading. It was a memento of who she was, but also, what she was capable of. It was a sign of her, but also 'her', a relic of her paradoxical existence. She snatched one up, shaking the hairband loose from the clump inside, eyes narrowing pensively... And then she smashed the thing open on the edge of the table, fishing an intact hairband from 'her' perfectly-preserved locks.

Mara wasn't sure if she took the loop as a sign of her curse to return, or as a token to the promise of her resurrection, but she wanted it regardless. Choosing a bit of her hair that was always on the edge of her vision, she loosely double-wrapped it, a now-constant reminder of the 'game' she was playing and the stakes she had to gamble with if she was going to sink or swim in her new world. Or maybe she just took it because she missed her hairband, though it's probably a bit of both.

Returning to shovel the rest of her harvest into the nearly-overflowing fridges, Mara packed as much as she could until she only had a couple handfuls worth that wouldn't fit. So after gingerly closing the chilly doors, Mara snacked on her few remaining berries as she headed to the barracks to get ready for her run.

Sliding her pack beneath her usual bunk, Mara pulled off her hoodie as she sat down on the edge of her bunk, shucking the slightly-too-tight squid-pants off her legs. Ditching the excess weight on top of her blankets, Mara held up the lock of her hair with its newly-secured hairband, debating if she wanted to leave it behind for her runs. If it falls off, back-tracking to find it would take ages with all the underbrush, but... No. It stays.

Resigned, Mara dug out one of the three-meters of metal fishing wire she kept coiled up in her pack, a living cable that she slipped around her wrist like a multi-banded bracelet. It was her shock-free ticket in and out the hatches that guarded her irradiated home, and it doubles as a 'geeky' fashion accessory. She twisted her arm back and forth, sloshing the bracelet in tandem like water in a glass. An idle action spent in contemplation as she made her way to the airlock, calling up Debug to verify her hunch.

<<

Living Cable Lv.3

Summary: Three meters of cable coated in a flexible polymer, which can be coiled and driven by mana.

Analysis: Provides a safe conduit for mana to traverse and magnetizes towards mana dense regions.

>>

'...which can be coiled and driven by mana.' So I was right... Well, there's no reason this won't work then...

Now validated, Mara thought back to that feeling, that shocking feeling. The feeling she'd felt all too close to where she currently stood. A feeling that let her intermix her mana with the cable, received a near-instant response as the cable whipped alive. She could move both ends like she had little limbs. Strange, tentacle-ly limbs that let her reach out and bridge things. Like the sigil-pair I needed to open the hatch. A feat which she could now accomplish without even lifting a finger, the cable already re-coiling itself as the hatch began it's tumultuous opening.

That was... kind-of cool. Mara shifted the 'bracelet' around her wrist, letting it settle comfortably. It's still just a super-flimsy cable, so I doubt I can do much more than graze things with it, but I can certainly do more than just open doors with it. I mean, it's already saving me the 'exercise in limberness' I've needed to do every time I open one of these two-meter runes.

Tearing her gaze from her wrist, Mara waited as the hatch opened before her, feeling a gentle breeze waft between her legs, advertising the welcoming warmth of the mid-day sun. And as she stepped out, she could appreciate how hard the celestial explosion had worked to bring her such a spectacular warm and sunny day.

It -is- really nice out today- maybe I will do a few more laps than the usual, see if I can't get that 'Agility' stat up... I mean it's eight. That's not even average. I can't have run track for all those years and not kept -something-, right? Mara's expression flattened into one of determination, she wasn't going to let a bunch of numbers tell her what she was and was not capable of doing- So she set off, bounding for her jogging track as she skipped over the usual river-crossing stones with a pep in her step. The sun was high in the sky, as it always is, and she was going to take full advantage of that.

∆ ∆ ∆

On her third lap around her void-made course, Mara figured she could use a break. So pivoting off the trail, she sighted a reasonably comfortable stump to sit on, one of the many left over by her berry 'harvesting'. It wasn't the worst view in the world though. The steady breeze that had lent it's refreshing coolness to her run now came from her side, fluttering at her still-unconstrained mop. She had thought about tying it up, or braiding it after she lost her first hairband, but now that she had another, which meant that she had to choose one or ther either. It wasn't overly important in the grand scheme of things, but she still found herself torn between her former hair standards.

She had gotten tired of pushing it back during her studies, as she was always leaning over a rune, and had just started putting up with it. Now? Two weeks in? It didn't even bother her, she was actually starting to like the freedom of letting it run wild. It was so much lighter than it used to be, and she could have sworn she saw it dance away from her face the other morning. It was more than the hair though, no one was around to judge her, so she, like her hair, could do as she pleased. The hairband wasn't something to be used, it was a relic, a memento of a time before she had found such 'freedom'.

Feeling refreshed, and a little bit antsy, Mara hopped off her perch and quickly shook the 'stillness' from her limbs. The day was still young and she had a few more laps in her, and she had gotten really curious about how much she'd have to 'push it' to raise a stat. If that's even possible. Setting off at a faster clip, Mara put her 'foot to the floor', as it were, while she tried to keep the pace up.

Mara managed to keep her momentum until the furthest hairpin from the obelisk, her half-way point. As she passed the critical milestone of her now-familiar course, one of the trees on her right seemed not-familiar. Then- something -shifted- on her left. Skidding, Mara's head spun towards the shadow-movement, whipping around like a swivel as she slid to a stop, her adrenaline skyrocketing.

No- It's the middle of the day. That wasn't- That had to have just been- it was just a- a scamper- it wasn't- A shadow shifted to her right- she dropped and rolled. Something 'whooshed'. Something 'sizzeled'. Mara pushed herself off the ground, trying to get her eyes on what she'd just dodged.

<<

Shadow-Faux (Alpha) XLVI

Summary: A larger variant of the shadow-faux family known to emerge during daylight in rare instances.

Analysis: A creature 46 times your level just tried to attack you. It's fight or flight time.

>>

A second one shifted behind it as Debug filled in the blanks, her gaze fixated on the pair's elongated bodies swishing in the deep shadows of the tree-line. Swirling black masses swayed back and forth like a cat's tail lining up a pounce. Their guttural growls slammed into her in tandem, the pair using their chorus to magnify whatever they were doing. Their eyes were filled with bloodlust, not hunger.

Oh fuck no- Mara skipped the pose, she just activated her rings, focussing on the centers of mass that were moving the least. Her mana surged, the rings activated, and then she felt a drain from them she'd never felt before. A resistance to her effects that the inanimate trees had never provoked. Her eyes went wide with panic as the closest alpha seized the opening. Leaping from the shadows and burning itself in the light to strike at her, succeeding as it took a not-insignificant part of her left shoulder with it, landing in the shadows behind her with a crunch as it pulverized whatever it had in its mouth.

Pain swarmed her senses, shock nowhere to be found. If her adrenaline had been high before, then it had just figured out whatever 'maximum' meant, dangerous levels of the stuff flooding her bloodstream. If the wolves didn't kill her, her poor heart would likely finish the job. Her mind was blank, she was staring down the cannon.

Mara didn't have a weapon. She didn't have a shield. She barely had a shoulder. But the other one leapt regardless, so she dodged. Dirt forced itself into her wound, causing her to nearly bite her tongue when she rolled her weight over the injury. But she cleared the teeth. She cleared the claws. Then the first one leapt again.

It was a well practiced death-waltz the pair employed, an efficient method they used to eliminate their prey like a well-trained hit-squad. Tumbling backwards, Mara grabbed a tree trunk, curving her trajectory and avoiding the follow-up attack waiting for her on the other side. She rolled to her feet, flip-flops nowhere to be seen, and just ran. Ran and ran. She ran like her life depended on it as growls and snarls filled the air behind her.

As her hair stood on end, Mara dived to her left, not sure what to expect as she made for a gap between two trees. Landing behind them, Mara heard -whatever- hit. One of the trees exploded. She didn't look back, shrapnel was flying everywhere. Scrambling to put her feet back under her, she bolted before the next 'thing' had a chance to blow her up.

She dipped, she dived, she ducked and she dodged, never stopping until her breath ran ragged. But just as Mara thought she might make it, she found herself vaulting an old log just a little bit too late. An icy-hot flash shot up her right forearm as a long central claw sliced down the arm that had been supporting her weight and the fleshy sausage burst open like a dam, gushing as much blood as her shoulder, sending her on a rapid spiral towards mara-sashimi. Her vision blurred, then flashed, then blurred again. She was running out of time. She yanked her limb free of the log, pushing herself to keep moving. Her heart beating like her own personal war drum, thumping away in her ears as she made for the nearest sounds of rushing water.

Clearing the tree line to the sounds of fish playing in the stream, Mara slipped on the loose stones of the riverbank, just shy of the water's edge. Tumbling to catch herself with her uninjured arm, Mara put out her left hand. However, while her arm was fine, its shoulder wasn't. Something popped, something 'hhhkk'ed'. The latter wasn't really a sound you wanted to hear from what should have just been a dislocated shoulder. But she couldn't look, not now. She just scrambled up against the rockbed, already turning the nearby waters an unsettling shade of crimson.

Dragging her soaking wet corpse from the riverbed, Mara began trudging across the remaining clearing; she couldn't run anymore. She heard the growling land behind her, their snarls mixing with the sounds of the stream, just a blur of background noise as Mara tried to stop herself from blacking out. With each step she expected teeth in her back, claws to her side, or more of whatever blew up the tree, but it never came. Just snarls and howling mocking her slow crawl back into her shell.

So Mara did what they egged her on to do, she bled her way into the airlock and flipped the mechanism, saved by the convenience of her still intact cable. Collapsing into a blood-wet slide down the right-hand wall, Mara pulled her failing frame into the barracks and collapsed next to her bunk. Using her mostly-working-but-still-trembling-from-the-blood-loss arm, she searched her pack with blind grasps, desperate to find one of the little metal cylinders.

<<

Bio-Stabilizer Mk.3

Summary: Immediate emergency sub-dermal biologic stabilizer. [...]

Analysis: Use one [...] you [...] incredibly stupid [...] Fast [...] fleshy bits.

>>

She wasn't sure if she was miss-reading Debug's text, but it didn't matter. There wasn't enough blood in her system to keep all the lights on in her brain, much less ferry the needed adrenaline to keep her awake. Things were getting 'dark and fuzzy' -fast-. She eyed the thing. One end was full of needles. She presumed that was the hokey-pokey-end.

Lights dimmed. Mara was out of time. So she drove seventy-four individual needles into her abdomen, the only reasonable place she could swing her arm at the time. And then the shock hit her, a quiet stillness that seized her mind, pairing well with the encroaching darkness. An intoxicating pair intent on dragging her deep into the unconscious depths of oblivion as she lay in a pool of her last two liters of usable blood.