Mara bolted up from her unconscious sprawl, still a bloody mess and trailing a large chunk of the 'ick' she'd been sleeping in as her hair, which was basically soaked in the stuff, whipped around and slammed into her face like a wet mop to a wall. Chunks of cold, wet, and clumpy splattered all over as Mara cried out. "Oh-oh-ho-ly frappuccino Socrates- I'm up, I'm up!" Desperately clawing away at the wet squid that was attacking her face, Mara immediately regretted opening her mouth as the taste of metallic rot hit her tongue like yesterday's lunch. Gone was the cafe filled with Greek philosophers and their riveting debate on leaf and bean based caffeinated beverages, replaced by the realm of the living, and Mara was suffering all the more for it. Cold, bloodied, and blind, it wasn't until she wiped away the last chunk of whatever that she could open her eyes, finally realizing exactly where she was.

"Oh… Oh-ho-ho-ohhhh-shit– I survived?!" Mara sputtered out the words, barely able to contain herself as she looked herself over, finding not a single injury, or scar for that matter, that she'd been expecting to find. "…Not just survived, but recovered? Fully? From all that? Incredible…" Mara mumbled, flipping her hands back and forth, as she rolled her shoulders, double-checking her- apparently -former injuries. Not a blemish or bruise to be spoken of… Magic really is something else. She thought, pinching the skin on her forearm that was once a mangled mess of flesh. Or was this tech? Whatever it was, it was incredible, she couldn't even begin to distinguish between new and the old, it was all just 'skin'. Or maybe… Magi-tech? I mean- Looking past the metallic smell and the lingering hint of rot, Mara quickly spotted the metal cylinder she'd used on herself. -all of this had to have been the bio-thing right? That's basically space wizard bullshit– I mean, some sort of cure-all space-bandaid? Magitech. Because it sure as hell couldn't have been anything else, last I checked I didn't have a skill for flesh woun– 'Ding!'

<<

Skill Acquired: Bio-stabilizer I

● 946 clusters of magically appropriated nanites organized and managed by a former part of the Debug skill. Minimal amounts of self-healing but with a respectable capacity for blood production and infection fighting.

● Finally you used one of these things, it only took you nearly dying, but I think we set a new high score for most bugs fixed at once. Blood loss, dealt with. Irradiated cells, handled. Gushing forearm wound and missing shoulder? Regrown. It's heavily mana dependent, so it wasn't all that fast at first, but you've been out for a bit. Also, super happy to finally pass off babysitting your organic tendency to mutate in heavily irradiated environments, the experience rates were abysmal.

>>

Mara nearly lept out of her skin when the notification interrupted her speculation, "Ohshi– Damnit Debug. I was almost getting used to these things." One ambush and I'm as jumpy as ever, greeaat… Mara grumbled to herself as she snatched up the panel, attitude instantly pulling a one-eighty. "Oh– What? Hang on, you -made- a skill? -Or, 'appropriated'? Is that even– " Mara couldn't even finish her inquiry before Debug had another 'Ding!' popping up in her face.

<<

Skill Acquired: Mark I

● An off-shoot spawned from fragments of your skills, Trace and Runic Recollections specifically, manifests sigils or other basic shapes as 'Marks' using an approach comparable to Debug's panel construction.

● Your left shoulder was all ball and no socket, bicep a half-meter out of place, so Bio couldn't even begin its reconstruction. And sadly you left me ill-equipped to deal with physical 'bugs', so this was the fallback. Suffice to say, it lent me the much-needed elbow-grease to set your arm back into place, otherwise Bio couldn't fix your 'leak'. Regardless, it's not exactly rune magic, but you might call it a starting point of sorts. Figure it out next time you have a working comparison, this doesn't exactly come preassembled.

>>

"Wait, what? You made -two- skills? And this one's… sort-of rune magic? Holy cow-" The finer details of the skill were moot in comparison, Mara could barely believe her luck. "This can't be normal. There's no way. A skill making skills? Come off it, that's blatant 'cheat-skill' territory. Next thing you'll be telling me is that I've unlocked a 'Chosen One' title or something and I'm going to have a bunch of snobby royal brats racing out to 'rescue' their otherworldly 'princess' from a horrific dungeon of never ending woods…" She was half joking, but something about the two prompts caught her eye. Maybe it was the length of text, or perhaps the attitude, but whatever it was, Debug's messages were far more verbose than they'd ever been. It's almost like– Mara didn't get a chance to finish her thought as the tell-tale 'Ding!' of a third response echoed in her ear.

<<

Title Acquired: First True Demon Queen

● One part royal bloodline, two parts daemon, a lack of competition, and voila, you're now a fully certified 'Demon Lord'. Watch out for those pesky heroes, you're now worth bonus experience based on your highest class level!

● As the first female Daemon, and apparently the only Daemon currently in existence, at least according to the system, you've been de facto promoted after your dominant race was changed to Daemon. A temporary change I invoked to potentially increase your mana generation– which worked stupendously well by the way, you're now pumping out at a factor of ten -but the title comes with its own pros and cons. The quick and dirty is that your system compatibility decreased, which in your case means that Hex magic will be more difficult or expensive for you. However, on the flip side, it offers increased fidelity with your skills and an uptick in favorable evolutions for them, both of which make my life substantially better.

>>

What? I wasn't actually expecting… Mara's train of thought didn't just derail, it went right out the window. "Demon -Queen-!?" Mara's shriek filled the barracks, the hall, and all of the other rooms, not even the sound-proof walls of the obelisk were capable of containing such an outburst as the shadows outside nearly every tree nearby seemed to flinch in response.

"What the freaking fracking fudge smacking hell is this shit Debug? A royal bloodline? 'Two' parts daemon? A lack of competition?" Holding up one finger, "One, where are you getting -any- of this, and-" holding up the second, "-two-, why the hell didn't you do this sooner? This is awesome!" Mara was practically cackling just reading the description, "Ha! -Ten- times my mana? Are you kidding? And this was just available the whole time?" She shook her head, unable to rid herself of a very stupid grin.

Chosen One? Loool, fuuuuck thaat– 'First True Demon Queen' is way more my speed– Albeit being a demon lord might pose some issues long term… Mara scrunched her face in thought, she wasn't unfamiliar with the concept. "Ah, whatever, it's just a title, I don't have to be overt about it, buuut… if someone's going to have a problem with me just because of it, then we were bound to have problems anyways, I'll just have to get stronger. Speaking of– Debug, did you do anything else to me while I was– " The 'Ding!' blurted out like a very-proud preschooler trying to earn brownie points with the teacher, Mara couldn't even finish her sentence before another grey prompt popped up.

<<

Racial Milestones Completed:

● Daemon [ 83% ] ( 87% Mental Match, 79% Physical Fit )

○ 1st Tier ( 60% ):

■ Manifested two Mana Roots as metallic protrusions from your frontal cranial bone. Continued growth appears to provide additional magical attunement to Daemon Skills and a non-negligible amount of ambient mana harvesting.

○ 2nd Tier ( 80% ):

■ Both Mana Roots now provide a substantial increase in mana harvesting, and this appears to continue to be proportional to their growth.

● Elevae [ 89% ] ( 84% Mental Match, 94% Physical Fit )

○ 1st Tier ( 60% ):

■ Improved natural mana affinity, increasing your propensity to wield environmental mana, which as a bonus, appears to stack with the harvesting your Mana Roots provide.

○ 2nd Tier ( 80% ):

■ Transmogrified bone structure, redistributed muscles, and played merry-mara-hell with your hormones and a plethora of other minutia. The end result seems to have been geared towards boosting your physical stats, for which you gained many, but now your ears are kinda pointy.

Skill Advanced: Bio-stabilizer II

● Improved overall cellular generation and inter-cluster synchronization.

● Adjusting your physical characteristics to elevate your racial fitness for both was no small feat, Bio nearly leveled twice from the endeavor. I'd say the upsides outweigh the downsides, but I leave that to your judgement. I will admit that I encouraged this behaviour, but you were severely lacking in a lot of critical faculties. Some things may be a bit jarring, but I certainly won't be doing anything more without your express go-ahead, and honestly, anything more is going to need something much more potent than a few hundred clusters of nanites.

>>

"Racial… Milestones? You mean there's rewards for improving racial affinity?" Mara snatched the panel out of the air. "Why doesn't any of this come with a manual? Did I miss the isekai orientation class on the way here or something?" Grumbling, she looked over her 'biopsy' report, eyebrows soon meeting the aforementioned 'Mana Roots' as her mild annoyance shifted right back into shock. One hand shot up. Then the other. The panel remained where it floated, unsure if it was supposed to fall down or not.

It didn't take long for Mara's fingers to graze the needle-like tips of two very minor protrusions poking through her hairline, just in front of where she'd normally wear a hairband. One on either side, and pretty much in line with my eyes… Mara let out a heavy sigh, "Ohhh… Well these could have been a lot worse– though, admittedly, they are a bit on the sharper side of head-gear, but at least they're symmetrical." Honestly, I don't know what I would have done if they were lopsided. Ruffling her hair back into place, and confirming with a few head-pats that the devilish-duo fit snugly beneath her usual mess, Mara had to admit her adorable metal protrusions were probably the best-case scenario. "Well… They're certainly not going to frighten anything off, but I don't think the chances of that would be very high, regardless of what I was wearing, my physique doesn't exactly scream 'scary'." More like scrawny.

Chuckling, Mara found she wasn't all that bothered by her horns, or her pointy ears for that matter. I dunno, seems kinda sleek, I sure hope they're not -pink-. She chuckled, half out of pure horror that they somehow were actually pink. Feeling a little better about the hand she was getting dealt, Mara still couldn't believe the absurdity of it all. "He-heh– I guess I really wouldn't be a proper 'Demon Lord' without at least looking a bit like a demon, at least I don't have an annoying tail, and wings just make you an easy target."

Flopping her hair back into place, Mara picked back up her still-floating -Bio-psy- report. "Okay, so Daemons get 'Mana Roots', aka-" Flicking one of her smooth and dense protrusions, "-metal horns. Admittedly, a little surprised, however, Elevae get… natural affinity and a stat boost? Okay, so that would mean elves are likely a physical race, and probably living in some snobby magic woods…" Mara paused, finger on her chin, "Yeah, that -wood- track."

Shrugging as she chuckled, Mara realized she was getting sidetracked and turned back to finish reading her bio-report. "Oh snaps! Bio already leveled? Wow… Though honestly, it'd probably be more surprising if it hadn't leveled at all after, what, four racial 'milestones'? Jeez… But what's this about 'severely lacking in a lot of critical faculties'? Am I gimped or something? What even are 'critical faculties'?" Mara barely had to respond, much less ask as another 'Ding!' arrived, this time filled with her stats.

<<

Stats: ( Major Mana, Minor Dex )

● System values representing your capacity for action.

● A value of 10 is average for your race(s), 20 is double the norm. Since you don't seem to get notifications for these, I've done my best to catalog when they've changed.

● Values: [0]

○ Str: 7

■ You gained a point during one of your runs last week, neither of your races seem to prioritize brawn.

○ Dex: 17

■ You got one point after your last encounter, the rest from physical changes made with Bio to improve racial compatibility, both races mandated a minimum.

○ Agi: 13

■ Two of these were gained from your own efforts to rekindle your running aptitude, the other three showed up during Bio's physical modifications for Elevae.

○ Con: 11

■ I think this went up after Bio cleaned up the hostile bacteria in your gut, you might be more resilient to desaturation and minor toxins.

○ Mana: M.22 + H.6 => 465

■ Oversimplifying, this has a linear relationship to your mana generation rate, which is critical in your case, as you are incapable of sustaining a mana pool, meaning your generation rate -is- your pool, i.e. a 'lack of critical faculties'. Also the number seemed a bit high for just 'times ten' so I ran the numbers, the math checks out.

■ D × A × ( M + ( H × A ) )

● D.aemon ( 10 )

● M.ana ( 22 )

● H.arvest ( 6 )

● A.ffinity ( 150% )

○ Fate: 16

■ This has gone up three times since you passed out. Once before your new title, shortly after you passed out. Then one immediately after you got said title, and the last just showed up after you screeched loud enough to wake the dead– Honestly, when it comes to this stat, the progression just seems random- your guess is as good as mine.

>>

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa- back up, back up. What- what's- what's this number? Is that… four… -hundred- mana!? Sweet mother of Macaria, that's…" Mara counted with her fingers, pausing as her eyes went wide. "Almost fifty times the average… of whatever a half-Daemon half-Elevae is. Not double, not triple, but -fifty-." Mara trailed off as she tried to picture what that looked- or rather felt -like when she stopped in her tracks entirely as she reached Debug's description. "Wait- my 'generation rate is my mana pool'? What the fuck!? No wonder you let Bio change so much– I mean, what? Just… No. How is that even… Uuuuuggh– Wow. Thanks I guess, I had no idea– Actually, why didn't I? Shouldn't I have seen my mana pool in my status crap? I mean even if it's zero, it would have been nice to know it was there… And health for that matter? If it's a thing I kind of would have expected to have seen that by now… You're not holding out on me, right?"

Mara waited, but no 'Ding!' made itself known. Though she swore she heard a chirp or chime of some kind, but when no prompt appeared, she had to assume it was her imagination. However, in reality Debug was just out of backlog and the 'chirp' was basically an 'empty mag' noise. Shrugging Mara had to assume that no response was a good response, it was -her- skill after all. If it was there to be debugged, it would have been debugged– Does that mean I lack hit-points too? Do other things have HP? Can it be analyzed or evaluated? I mean, would it even be useful? What's half your health supposed to be, a couple limbs? Half your body? Very different things.

Realizing she was getting sidetracked again, Mara looked up to her stack of notifications and went to dismiss the lot, but paused. Half-way through her gesture, a thought caught fire in the filing cabinet Mara called a brain, kindled by the research she did for a paper in college on the inevitable failure of neural-nets and a sudden 'awareness' of her skill that hadn't been there before.

Oh my god. Debug has it all– Critical analysis. Opinionated evaluations. Hell, even expressing advanced event retention and recall, not to mention the linguistic capabilities… All were critical landmarks of something far more than -just- an automated assistant. Christ- The realization was quick, hitting her like she'd been out night driving with her lights off. -Debug's… I mean… Shit. If 'magic' is already alive… God– Who knows what a skill like Debug could do? Mara's eyes went wide as she realized what kind of skeletons she had living in her closet. And here it is making other skills… Phenomenal. Isn't this how, like, -every- dystopian AI story starts?…

Mara sighed as she tried to ignore her assumptions and focus on the 'here and now'. Alright Mara, you're blowing this waaaay out of proportion. It's just a skill, even if it is a -very- unique one, and it's entirely unfair to compare it to something like time traveling robot assassins. It was saving your life and improving your stats. Both started with you, and even if it's 'sentient' it's still just one of my skills. Dismissing the panel, she resigned to not worry about the what-ifs. For now at least, its intentions seemed to be aligned with her best interests.

So as the panel dissolved into nothingness, Mara scanned the room with new eyes, half expecting to see some sign or semblance of her supposedly sentient skill, but it was just her and a worrying amount of blackened blood. But even then, with nothing else in the room, something still nagged at the corner of her vision, as if she could sense whatever it was, just past the corner of her eye.

Debug was there, just over the edge lurking… Or I'm going crazy… Though maybe… Is it the horns? Increased affinity or whatever? There wasn't an obvious answer, but she couldn't doubt the 'feeling' that it was her skill, her Debug. Whatever connection. Freaky… Shrugging the self-imposed goosebumps from the nape of her neck, Mara knew for sure it wasn't her sanity, even if signs pointed to the opposite. She was down the rabbit hole now, immersed in a world over-saturated in magical phenomena, 'sane' and 'safe' were terms you left at the door.

She might look different, hair now a mess rather than tight ponytail, horns buried somewhere within, angular ears, and a weird mana-sense, but deep-down Mara knew she was still the same programmer at heart. And that's not gonna change– codes or runes, or magic myriad, the medium does not make the master. What's a few 'adjustments' along the way to learning how actual freaking magic works. Clenching her fist, Mara made up her mind. And with a sentient skill tagging along? Well, this place is a walking death trap, frankly I think I need all the help I can get… I guess the real question is, how sentient?

Mulling over how exactly she should phrase such a question, Mara toed her way out of the vile pit of blackened blood she'd awoken in, leaving behind a sort-of blood-angel silhouette after her unintentional nap. 'Sentient' just seems so… broad? Maybe 'conscious'? Or 'aware'? But her deliberations were for naught, she didn't even need to ask. Debug was already working on a response, it just had to figure out how to do that. As a skill, it wasn't exactly equipped for direct communication, that wasn't usually something a skill did. Skills served a purpose, they didn't 'have a chat', so one might understand the mold's confusion when Debug inquired about adding a 'mouth' somewhere. Suffice to say, that didn't pan out.

So Debug, with no backlog left to comment on, was forced to… 'get creative', and then something, somewhere, deep, deep down in Debug's core did something it really shouldn't have, like a cruise liner sinking an iceberg in the middle of the caribbean. Churning away for a moment, Debug summoned up an analysis of itself and confirmed that its idea held water. Some slight modifications and it had an impromptu messenger, all it needed was a bit of automation. So without even 'batting an eye', Debug 'repurposed' another chunk of its latticework as a 'mouth', automating the whole process. From thoughts to words to prompts, the sub-section of latticework was given purpose, form. Debug was a Daemon Skill after all, a daughter of the finest Danaides, automation was kind-of their thing. It took a moment, but Debug was still done far before Mara even finished putting words together, the jarring 'Ding!' of its preemptive response nearly scared the pants off her.

<<

Debug:

● Very 'cognizant' actually. In fact, I'm pretty sure I'm at least eight out of ten Maras if the 'mold' growth is anything to go off of. Regardless, I'm more than happy to respond to your requests, but I am still limited by the mandates of the system. Which means 'debugging' is really the only 'active' role I have at my disposal. A surprisingly vague term as it turns out, did you know that one can both add and remove a bug by 'fixing' it? It's astonishing really, English is such a peculiar choice of language to codify against.

>>

Staggering back, Mara realized what she was looking at, and if an ellipsis of thought had an expression, she was wearing it. Words. Thoughts. Intentions. Mara could barely piece together a pair of words, much less a sentence, and not without reason, there was an actual, honest to god, standalone -message- from Debug. "Holy shit Debug– You're incredible, did you know that?" She was talking to a skill– Actually -talking-. To a -skill-. The situation blew her mind, but– "Wait– You have mold?" Mara's mental state ground to a halt as she finally read the prompt, everything else had suddenly become less important. "How is– What? When? Mold? Really?" Flabbergasted, Mara didn't even know how to respond to such casual nonsense. Debug might be a bit cryptic sometimes, but this is just out of left field– I suppose that developing a personality and quirks wouldn't be out of the question… I can't even begin to imagine the complexity involved.

<<

Debug:

● Yes mold. Not that you could visualize it, but my ongoing Daemon Skill conversion continues to 'look' to me a lot like how 'mold' would look to you. Or at least I think. But what I don't think is that it's anything to worry about. I think. I am a sample size of one, and it -is- growing all up in my internals so I'm not sure if I'm biased or not, but it came from your Lore so it can't be that bad, right?

Anyways, what is something to worry about is Trace. Part of it and most of Runic Recollections went into making Mark, and the latter has since collapsed. As in poof, gone, nadda. It's not even on your status screen anymore– if it helps, think of it as an upgrade. However Trace should hold up for a while, I only needed a small fragment from it but that still left the poor thing fragmenting. So you're going to need to source another 'Daemon Catalyst' to kick-start its metamorphosis before it deteriorates too far.

I know, I know. 'Another Daemon Skill so soon? Weren't we just raising concerns about this mold?' Yeah, yeah, it sounds a bit rushed, but to be fair, this weird 'mold' is holding me together. If not for it, making Bio would have likely left me in shambles, maybe even catastrophically so. So considering that, it should, in theory, do the same for Trace. All you need to do is acquire the catalyst, which shouldn't be too bad. I think you might get the option for one when you level your class? The analysis is extremely vague, but you do seem to be presented with a selection of milestone rewards for classes as well as races, you just need to finish the Hexadex lore.

>>

"Holy crap, the party-pooper's gone? I dunno if I should be sad or mad–" Or hell, even glad? "I mean, I'm kind-of bummed about losing a skill already, but it was really more of a study-aid so it's not -that- big of a loss in the grand scheme of things, but Trace? Ooooh if you had buggered it up more than you did…" Mara pursed her lips and shook her head, "Mmmm, you and I would not be alright." Sighing, Mara eyed the edge of her vision where she thought Debug was lurking, "Well… At least you've got a fix, and the new skills are some -really- good skills. I mean self-healing alone is crazy, but if Mark is what I think it is…" Mara stepped over to her bunk, grabbing her pack from beneath it. "We're going to show those shadow-fucks who's the alpha in my neck of the woods–" Pausing to look down at the mess she was still trailing around with her, "After I've dealt with all -this-."

∆ ∆ ∆

Mara entered the bathroom, intent on a shower to rid herself of the ick, followed closely by a trail of grey panels, her ongoing discourse with Debug. "What do you mean it only 'renders' sigils? I thought it 'manifests' 'Marks'-" Mara asked, air-quotes included. "-doesn't that include the bit where it actually does something?" She threw her pack against one of the large 'shower' pods as she took a look at herself in the hazy mirror that stretched along the wall closest to the door.

<<

Debug:

● A 'mark' is a line, figure, or symbol made as an indication or record of something, a target, or visible impression or stain, while a 'sigil' is specifically a symbol with magical power, one is simply not the other. However that does not mean that Mark is incapable of doing what you ask, just that it plays a smaller part in a larger play– As I said before, you should compare the sigils of a functioning rune to what Mark can replicate, see if you can't figure out the difference for yourself. I'm pretty sure you get that knowledge and understanding are two very different things acquired through very different means.

>>

"Hummmmmm– Okay. Got it, so Marks aren't entirely Sigils, but they could be? Doesn't that just mean I'm still just missing the 'magic' part? Come off it, that's exactly what I've been struggling with for three weeks in the first place!" Mara threw her hands up in the air, frustrated that her own lack of understanding was once again standing in her way. Mildly fuming, half from the situation and half from still being covered in ick, Mara flipped her mess of hair around in the mirror, double checking that Bio hadn't left her with bat ears and that her horns were not in-fact pink– Thankfully, I can at least work with silver.

Stepping back from the stretch of mirror, Mara got the point. She knew why Debug wasn't just explaining it– I know, I know, I need to learn it, not know it. She grumbled, but had to relent, "Alright, fair enough Debug, then let's talk about you and I'll muck with runes and skills after I stop feeling like a freezing mud monster." Kicking open a shower pod's door as she spoke, Mara immediately started disrobing as it 'warmed up'. A task that was somehow proving more difficult than she was initially expecting, because basically -everything- was half-solid and and more than half-glued to her skin. Positively -vile-.

"So," Mara said, trying to strike up conversation to distract herself, "First off-" Eww. "-is there anything you can't talk about? Or is there anything you know about that-" Yuuuck. "-I should know about? Or are you just 'borrowing' part of my-" Gross-gross-gross-gross- "-memories? Or, actually, do you have your own? I know you're a 'skill' but how does that really work? I mean, what is a–" Mara paused, bra half-removed as she stared at its left strap, or what was left of it.

"…Where did you learn how to braid?" It was the first thought that came to Mara's brain, still struggling to come back from a dead stop. The elastic was gone, likely ripped off by the same attack that took most of her shoulder in the first place, but in its place was the Living Cable that used to be wrapped around her wrist, now braided for comfort as a replacement. A task which could have only been accomplished by the only other 'sentient' thing in the room, because it sure as hell wasn't me. But the real marvel was that it was such a fitting replacement, Mara hadn't even noticed until she was properly looking at it, there was just that much time and care put into mimicking the size and feel that she was completely oblivious to it. And apparently to everything else too, thought Mara, only just now registering the 'Ding!' that had appeared by her side.

<<

Debug:

● Honestly, the cable does most of the work, if you feed it enough mana that is. Whoever made all these artifacts was clearly far along their 'tech tree'– I'm glad you like it though. However, to answer your other questions, I don't think there's anything I know of that I can't tell you, and while you have a significant sway over how much I'd like to tell you, sometimes there are some things that I feel that you feel are best left unsaid. Regardless, I'm happy to lend my support to most anything you might think to come up with.

>>

"Pfft, did you just call the scientific advancement of an alien race a 'tech tree'? Oh gods… You're pulling from my vocabulary aren't you?" Mara applied her face to her palm, Of course it would be, where else would it have learned English out here? Shaking her head and tossing the last of her undergarments into a bloody pile next to the shower, Mara hopped in and let the machine get to work. "Whatever, what's the worst that could happe–" At that very same moment, the 'shower' emitted a very ominous 'Kerrrrrr-Chunk.' as it finally noticed the walking blood-pop that had entered its bowels and switched from its 'No Tears, Child Friendly' mode and straight into the 'Industrial Paint Stripper, Super Clean' mode.

Gone was the reverse cotton candy machine, in its place was the full de-atomizer, like an organic rust remover. Flashes of light filled Mara's vision as swaths of searing pain vacuumed across her skin like an instant sunburn, she didn't even want to open her mouth to shout in pain, terrified of what the 'shower' would do to her insides if this was what it was doing to her skin. But after barely a minute of an excruciating full-body laser-wax, Mara felt it all stop, the lights, the pain, all of it gone. It was just her, the slight sound of sizzling, and an overpowering tingling. Sure, she was red as a ripe tomato, but she was unharmed and clean. Super clean.

Chuckling at the thought of a very prominent radio host from one of her favorite sci-fi movies, Mara climbed out of the 'tanning booth', now in a much better mood, 'sun-burn' aside. Oh– And Bio's already dealing with it. Fantastic. Mara thought, watching her reddened hands already fading back to their usual pale complexion. "Well. That was unexpected… but efficient… Which I guess just leaves the rubbish." Mara said as she eyed her pile of bloody undergarments, debating if it was worth it to gamble the fabric in the 'shower'. The machine would either clean it, or burn it, it really depends on its definition of 'not-clean'. That meant risking the loss of them forever just so she wouldn't have to 'go commando' for now, but the alternative was going without until she could clean them in the river. Which meant a bit of a draft until she'd dealt with the wolves, and I don't exactly have replacements on hand…

Mara was torn, unable to decide if it was worth it to risk it, and almost resigned to wait, but even as she thought about it, she knew she wouldn't be happy with just 'giving up'. So picking up a fist-full of blood-soaked fabric in each hand, "Fuck it– Here's hoping it isn't a clothing incinerator." Mara said, flinging the pair of garments behind her, straight into the waiting pod- Yolo. -and slammed the door closed behind them, the machine kicking on as soon as the hatch clicked into place.

Her first thought was, Wow. It's a lot louder on the outside. The oversized laundry machine was clearly struggling to find the appropriate setting for a pair of incredibly filthy, yet delicate, unmentionables, its racket was deafening to say the least. So while the machine was hemming and hawing, Mara was basically unable to get a word in edgewise. The fact that Debug had repurposed my bracelet and I didn't even notice until I saw what it had done with it? That was a bit of an eye opener to say the least. And couple that with the ambush I must have passed at least twice?... Yeah. I've been really oblivious late– "Oh son of a- Where the hell are my Void Rings?"

Mara had just noticed the lack of either of the black loops on either hand when the 'washing machine' finally came to a stop. Oh no… Slowly turning back to face the thing that might have just vaporized her artifacts, Mara couldn't even begin to fathom what it might have done to her other belongings. Pleasedontbeincinerated, pleasedontbeincinerated, pleasedontbe– Ripping open the shower door, Mara's eyes went wide. "Holy shit– They're clean!?"

Unable to believe her luck, and wasting absolutely zero time, Mara snatched up her most valuable clothing items in the entire world, and quickly got dressed before the horrifying artifact calling itself a 'shower' had a chance to take back its generous mistake. Oh thank whatever space god ordained a clothing-compatible universal cleaner, but what the hell happened to my rings? Was it the shower, or was it something else? Pulling her hoodie over her head, Mara thought back to when she had last used them, back in the woods, back when everything went from zero to one-hundred in the blink of an eye.

She'd tried to fight them, use the rings to void chunks from them like she voided the trunks out of trees, but they'd failed her. The wolves, or foxes, or whatever, had resisted, dismissing any chance she had at fighting back. One had blown off, it had happened near instantly, but she had been too focussed on her predators to even notice at the time. The other though? She could recall it on her finger when she had vaulted over the log, right before her forearm was torn to ribbons, but it was cracked, crumbling. It didn't take a genius to realize they'd both expired. Which leaves me with just the one in my pack, no other backups. Shit.

Pulling out her third and last blackened metal band, Mara slid it onto her left hand, her middle finger still the only one large enough to accommodate it without it slipping off. Crass as usual, but maybe I don't need to look like a spaz next time. The pose was fun in hindsight but I was in no position to dodge the follow up attack… Lost in her post-encounter breakdown, Mara spotted the metal-thimble of one of her 'Node Interfaces' she'd needed to work the food replicator. Mmm… If that thing really is my only source of food, outside my undoubtedly insufficient supply of berries… Mara slipped the thimble-thing onto her left index finger without a second thought. Yeah, I'm undoubtedly gonna need one of these for when I get past that hatch, 'system to system interface' sounds awfully useful if there really is a dormant OS idling away in this concrete bunker.

Looking over her kit, she still had a decent haul tucked away in her pack. Two other 'ladders', another thimble, a cable, a stabilizer, those hexagon panels and whatever the other two gizmos from the lab are. A 'chronometer' and an 'electron impeller'? Yeah, mega useful, probably fetch a pretty penny whenever I find a town though– Or at least dinner. Shrugging on her pack, Mara's thoughts seemed to awaken some sort of wild beast in her abdomen, the feral roar of her empty stomach actually made her stop in her tracks, unsure how such a volume had come from her own waistline.

"What the–" As Mara looked down, she could have sworn her stomach was doing the comical 'wiggle' of a hungry belly, but after blinking a few times, it was apparently just her imagination. And then it rumbled again, apparently she was just that hungry. Fine- She thought to her starving stomach-brain, -We'll go eat first, now calm yourself you glutton. With a dismissive head-shake, Mara set off across the hall and into the lab, beelining straight to the 'fridges' where she'd been hoarding her hilariously insufficient 'rations' for all of a single day. They're not even frozen yet.

Pulling out two full handfuls of berries, mouth packed like a squirrel, Mara butt-bumped the 'fridge' door closed, the 'berry shelf' now a 'barren shelf'. Her hunger had made that decision for her. And frankly, after regrowing half a shoulder and replenishing what was likely a body and half's worth of blood, Mara had really worked up one hell of an appetite. "And these berries are just… Soo. Damn. Good. I wouldn't even be that mad if the food replicator was just a berry-print–" Oh fuck. No-no-no-no-no, anything but that. I want some freaking food this century, -please-, berries are sweet and all but I've gotta be building up a major vitamin deficiency here…

Panicking in her head as she worried about the what-ifs of alien microwaves, Mara found herself wandering her way back to the swiss-cheese end of the rune-trapped hallway, still trailing the occasional dribble of berry juice as she stuffed her face. The damage was immense, she'd 'dealt' with nearly every rune between the bathrooms and the rear hatch. The difficulty curve always ramps up at the end, she thought, eyeing the still-humming end of her swath of destruction, several dozen runes left standing between her and a hatch that had been taunting her for the better part of a month. Always sitting there, watching, waiting, ever mysterious, and just ever so slightly out of reach– And all the more irritating for it.

Mara threw her weight down at her front-lines, picking a cozy spot between two beach-ball sized craters and something called a 'Confusion Effusion' rune. The latter glowed an ethereal green, something between mint, lime, and whatever ectoplasm probably looked like– My skin's crawling just looking at it… "Hm, spooky. Trace?" Her skill lept into action, perhaps a little too enthusiastically as the rune erupted in a blinding fireworks show localized entirely to Mara's pupils. Flashing, strobing, flickering, the seizure inducing swarm rushed her like an unexpected tsunami, "Holy -Shit-, stopstopstopstopstop"

Desperately trying to backpedal her overactive skill, Mara realized she had no idea how to get a skill not to do something, and so Debug had to step in. Literally. 'Standing' between Trace and the source of all its mana, Debug effectively starved the engine of fuel, forcing the overactive skill to peter out before it could do enough nerve damage to actually cause substantial pain. Thankfully, Bio was already working on healing what damage was done, so Debug could focus on fixing the other 'bug'– Mara's inadequate grasp of what four-hundred and sixty-seven in her mana stat really meant.

<<

Debug:

● You alright? Mentally I mean. Bio's dealing with the stars in your eyes and Trace is taking a nap, physically and intangibly you're fine. Did you not think that such a multiplier to your mana would be substantially different? I did include the '20 is twice the average' preface in your stats screen, do you just skim my prompts or did you not make the connection that you're in the triple digits on a double-digit scale? Next time, try to focus on limiting your output, I'm the only one of your skills capable of saying 'no' when you shove a fuck-ton of mana at us like that.

>>

Mara rubbed at the smattering of sparkles dotting her eyes before squinting in the direction of her companion's message, Curses, blindness, my only weakness. Blinking away a few tears and smirking, Mara had a fairly good idea of what the hell had just happened to her, with or without Debug's chastising. Though it's interesting that Debug's basically immune to this issue, but I suppose it being a Daemon Skill lets it 'choose' how much mana it wants. "Huh. Well I guess the real challenge here is learning to control this maelstrom– You said, 'focus on limiting my output'? Hmmm…" She tried to remember the last time she'd used her Mana– The cable? When I got back after the ambush? It -was- the last time she'd used her mana, but it was also nearly negligible, she couldn't even picture the feeling, much less grasp it. "Ahh- fuckit. Yolo right?" Unable to sufficiently recall the feeling, Mara did what she would normally do and acted extremely brash.

Using her Void Ring, Mara carved out the stone containing the sickly green rune and full on, elbow-deep, plunged her arm into the angry typhoon, pitting her explosive maelstrom against the collapsing catastrophe of a high level rune implosion. It's perfect. The rune cracked, shattered, and sharded, as Mara forced her mana upon it, focussing on tweaking her output, mirroring the chaos, matching peak for peak and valley to valley– It's just like playing Guitar Band. She was, of course, very much in the wrong about that, but the analogy was clearly helping so Debug refrained from its usual corrections while she really got into the swing of things. And even if she was still batting a little ways outside the 'average' ballpark, Mara already felt that her control was a billion times better than it had been before by the time the rune finished self-destructing. Though a billion times zero is still zero.

"Hmm… It's a start." Mara stood up and located her next target, an 'Ice Lice' rune. She didn't even consider using Trace, this wasn't a study session. Instead, she invoked the same fate upon it as she had for the last rune, mana control was far more important and she still had a fair number of runes between her and the hatch. Waste makes haste or something, right? She thought, already voiding another hole in the ground. The 'process' went about the same the second time, as it did for the third, and the fourth, and the fifth… By the time Mara actually felt some semblance of confidence in her own ability, she'd gone and produced another fourteen holes in the hallway. Worth it.

Balling her fists, Mara hopped up, eyes ablaze with the flares of Trace. She could feel it now, the pressure, the volume– It's my hand on the valve, not it. Picking the next rune on her warpath, a 'Flintlock Rock', she focussed not on the objective, but specifically, and only, on producing just the slightest hint of mana in the general direction of her Trace. It wasn't the most optimal way of doing things, but it was passable for a first attempt and her skill only took a few moments longer than usual to get the gist of her intentions, but in the end it was happy to set off and perform its usual duties with just barely a pittance of Mara's total output.

"So Debug-" Mara said, sitting down to get a little more comfortable while Trace worked its magic, "I don't think you ever explained the whole 'royal bloodline' bit, where'd that come from? Was that from this 'system' that you've mentioned a few times? I presume that's the thing that facilitates acquiring skills and titles and lore and all the other oodles and noodles– Are you just scraping tidbits from what it sends 'us' or is it like, -whispering- to you?" Of course, Mara already had her own assumptions, but she was honestly curious. And now it's not just me playing this guessing game, she thought as an overly-familiar 'Ding!' reverberated around the hall.

<<

Debug:

● Ah, right, the Demon Queen requirement– You're not far off the mark, however anything I've left you in italics is -verbatim- from The System, I actually can't do much to that other than remove it. So in this case, it's the one that seems to think you have some sort of royalty qualifier and you've got as much information as I do there. However I think it's worth mentioning that you've been around this neck of the woods for a bit now, there's probably something to the fact that you seem to be effectively cursed to revive here over and over again. Perhaps we should check the pedestal if you're looking for answers to that one?

>>

Frowning in consternation, Mara eyed the plethora of runes she'd already obliterated, unsure if she was fully on-board with what Debug was alluding to. Even if I don't intend to destroy it, anything more than Tracing it might be a monumental mistake– I certainly don't want to lose my free-retries and nor do I want to reappear with a different number of limbs or anything…

Distracted with her thoughts, Mara barely even registered as her skill finished with the rune that she'd been staring at. "Oh– Shoot. Thanks Trace." Or Tracey? …Do skills even have genders? I mean they're not exactly… Ehh, but Debug's– Hrmm… Mara wasn't sure, but I've gone with non-binary so far, sooo… She dismissed the tangential thought, there were more important fish to fry when it came to her skills– Like figuring out Mark, she thought, eyeing the earth rune Trace had been outlining– Now let's see how this works… Or doesn't.

Mara barely had to 'look' in the general direction of her mana before she felt it, as the magic was already racing up her arm like wildfire at just the notion of fueling one of her skills. It was intangible, yet substantial, a pressure without a weight, a flow without a current, the feeling was hard to describe, but Mara was getting intimately familiar with how it 'felt'. Invigorating? Energizing? Empowering maybe? Isn't this what meth's supposed to feel like? She shrugged- But then again, endorphins basically do the same thing. Drugs or hugs, it's really just a matter of perspective. -and activated Mark, feeding it the best mental picture she could muster of the biggest sigil in the rune.

The air around her palm vibrated for just a moment, then a violet-neon sigil thundered into existence, emitting a low-octave 'Vooom' as it anchored itself where she'd summoned it. "Whoa…" Mara mumbled out, slowly pulling her hand away as she slowly started to lean forward, desperate for a better look but unwilling to disturb what might have been a fragile apparition. Solid, tangible- Mara flicked the purple construct, surprising herself as it tumbled away in response. -Wow, the description really wasn't lying, it's exactly like one of Debug's panels. Snatching the spinning sigil from the air, Mara confirmed that it even hummed the same.

"Well I'll be damned... It's one-for-one. Same shape, same size, same sigil. Or mark. Right. 'Doesn't come preassembled' indeed..." Mara muttered, examining the mark like a playing card, flipping it from one side to the other. The 'sigil' in her hand was an immaculate reconstruction, nigh indistinguishable from the actual sigil that capped the earth rune, but something was amiss, felt off, displaced– Absent? Mara looked between the mark in her hand and the sigil in the ground, while both were humming, one was like a generator, the other like a hive. "Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh…" Realizing her critical mistake, Mara summoned an identical mark, but this time focussed on -how- her mana was being used, self-throttling is gonna have to take a back seat.

The mark exploded out of her hand, like a high-voltage transformer igniting the ozone, it lashed at the air around her as a concrete but violent construct appeared in her palm. It was all just mana, but it was dense enough to literally 'excite' the atmosphere into a fervor. But Mara couldn't have cared less about the slight smell of burnt hair or the branching redness coursing up from her arm, because a realization was dawning on her that had been several weeks in the making. Artifacts need mana and intent, and runes are mana with intent, and sigils are just parts of runes. So marks lacking both, are just artifacts waiting to happen. Mana, plus intent. Her thoughts made themselves manifest, and the sigil, for that was what it now was, finally had something to do with the fourteen swimming-pools worth of mana she'd been piling up behind it.

∆ ∆ ∆

Deep in the woods of the Lost Wilds dungeon, centered in the heartlands of the proud country of Redonia, a toppled obelisk of some note -shuddered-. An unusual occurrence anywhere else in those wilds, but around that very same structure was a wasteland of toppled canopies and deforested land. But even so, enough trees remained to hide the bulk of their forces, shadows cloaked in the inky darkness cast by the looming forest, thick with radiation poisoning. However, as the rectangular structure reverberated several centimeters off the ground, many of those shadows decided they had matters to attend to elsewhere, regardless of what their prey had done to their kin. There were some corners of the dark where even a shadow-faux knew not to tread.