Challenge Path Completion Time: 11:14:27…Calculating… Slow and methodical, your mana can weather any storm. With each passing second, it grows in intensity. Though it may not be the fastest to come to bear, it is a formidable force once focused. For placing in the bottom .0002% of completion times, two rewards have been granted. From a certain perspective, finishing this slowly is quite an achievement. Mana Bolt mana density moderately increased. Overload Path price decreased. Push the limits of what is written; rules were only made to be broken. For displaying immense adaptability in your use of magic, two rewards have been granted. The limits on your Metamagic have been lessened, new options are available to you. Additionally, a small portion of Metamagic’s effects have been conferred to Explosive Mark. Many roads diverge as you take your third step into the unknown. The once crowded streets begin to thin; the weak have been left behind. This is where the real path to power begins, the first step that you can truly call your own. For defeating The Guardian of the Cavern, the default rewards have been granted. Mana Bolt damage moderately increased. Mana Bolt size slightly increased. Body Mana Density slightly increased.

Aaron read over the notifications with blurry eyes. The letters lazily floated about, making it hard to decipher the meaning of the messages. The Challenge Path had taken a toll on him. Even though none of his injuries remained, he was still mentally exhausted. He had been operating at peak capacity, pushing himself to his limit for the past 11 hours. Not to mention the litany of injuries he had sustained. They had disappeared, but the sensation still lingered. The memories stayed put in the front of his mind; he could practically still feel the bone in his arm shattering to pieces.

He glanced around the shack. Tony and Jess hadn’t moved an inch. Not even a second had passed in the outside world while he was fighting the golem. Which was strange. He was now technically 11 hours older than his birthdate would imply. Additionally, the extra time threw off his internal clock. Even though it was only mid-day, his body was telling him it was time to go to sleep. He let out a tired yawn.

He read the notification once more, this time forcing himself to focus his fatigued mind. Overall, the Challenge Path had been worth it; it had pushed him to his limit, but the rewards were numerous. In total, completing the Challenge Path had awarded him with the equivalent of at least three Paths. Not to mention the insane amount of Skill Points it helped him rake in.

While reflecting on the experience, he was shocked by how much he enjoyed fighting the golem. Of course, having his arm broken and his body battered wasn't fun by any stretch of the imagination. But coming up with plans and blowings stuff up were two things he was growing to enjoy immensely.

The first reward gave something he had never seen before: a discount on another Path. With its decreased price, he may have to take another look at the Overload Path. More importantly, it increased the mana density of Mana Bolt. All the other times his mana density had increased, it had been by an infinitesimal amount. So a moderate boost to Mana Bolt was actually quite significant.

The second reward was arguably even better than the first. Metamagic played a huge role in allowing him to survive his encounter with Nacho. An increase in its capabilities was huge; if he was able to modify Mana Bolt even the slightest bit faster, that would be a major victory in his book. As things stood, his current methods would be ineffective against an actual enemy. The only reason they had worked was that the golem was extremely slow - an enemy of equal speed wouldn’t give him the required time to form his attacks properly.

Metamagic’s effects spreading to Explosive Mark was a welcome surprise. However, he doubted its usefulness in the short term. Explosive Mark already took him a long time to prepare; if he also used Metamagic on the skill, it would take forever to charge. At most, he would be limited to making extremely simple alterations. Which he wasn’t too mad about. Sometimes, simple was better.

Even the default rewards were promising, the increase in damage was always appreciated, and increased bolt size could be useful. Though, increasing its size too much could be disadvantageous. Bigger wasn’t always better. Sadly, he had no way of knowing how large the increase was without testing it. Which he couldn’t do right now without blowing a hole in the side of the shed and letting in a flood of water.

Things would be a lot easier if the System was more forthcoming with information. It was capable of stopping time and long-range teleportation, but for some reason, it wasn’t able to give him exact measurements on how it was changing his skills. Something didn’t add up.

He yawned again, his eyelids growing heavy. Overusing Metamagic had completely drained him of energy. He glanced at Tony; the old man was fiddling with two objects, creating a demented arts and crafts project. The Italian noticed his gaze, then nodded, understanding the situation without having to speak a word.

With Tony in the room, Aaron felt comfortable resting. If Tony wanted him dead, he wouldn’t have survived their time locked in a cell together unscathed. He could have strangled him in his sleep if he truly wanted to.

That left Jessica. She sat in the corner of the shed, a few feet away from him, uncovering stacks of flower pots. She seemed innocent enough, but appearances could be deceiving; he knew that all too well. It's possible that she was biding her time, waiting for him to let his guard down before she struck. In that case, he still should be able to survive. Even with his vow of pacifism, the old man should be able to stall Jessica long enough for him to wake up if she decided to kill him.

He sighed; it was tiring having to worry about so much. It had been a long time since he had truly felt at ease. Paranoia haunted his existence, clinging to the edges like a dark shadow, sucking the joy out of life. It was the only defense he had left against himself. He forced himself to relax. Skill level up notifications flashed in the corner of his vision, but he was too tired to care; they could wait till the morning.

Cold, tired, and hungry, he drifted off the sleep, escaping the stresses of the world, if only for a moment.

…..

Tommy Copperright strode down the dark hallways of Alcatraz, trailing his prey with the confidence of an apex predator. It didn’t matter how far they ran; there was nowhere to hide. Only the left-wing of the prison was left habitable after alien invaders had attacked. Furthermore, the cowardly guard wouldn’t be able to hide there for long. The left side was filled with prisoners, locked away in their cells and forgotten by the justice system. No one had come to save them; the guards had been content to leave them there to rot. Understandably, they would be eager to help him on his hunt.

Aided by the System, he noticed a drop of blood smeared on the floor. He crouched down; it was fresh.

Congratulations! Tracking Lvl 8→9. 1 Skill Point Awarded.

Tommy’s grin twisted into a sadistic visage, hungry for blood. He continued in that direction, casting a long shadow in the few lightbulbs that had survived the earthquake. His ears twitched; harsh gasps for breath echoed around the corner. He had found his mark.

Congratulations! Tracking Lvl 9→10. 1 Skill Point Awarded.

With a flick of his hand, the chains that were wrapped around his wrists unfurled. His SP dropped slightly as the chain arced through the air, lengthening to an unbelievable size. A rather convenient trick he had earned from completing a Path. It wrapped around the guard like a lasso, trapping them in place. The result of another Path he had completed. The guard attempted to break free, but the chains continued to wrap around them, rendering their effort futile.

Congratulations! Chain Mastery Lvl 21→22. 1 Skill Point Awarded.

The guard screamed in fright, but Tommy closed his heart. The man’s feelings were none of his concern. In his eyes, the guards represented the ultimate evil - the representation of a corrupt system, one that would lock away the innocent and forsake the guilty. He remembered that fateful day he had first come in contact with it all those years ago.

He had been in the wrong place at the wrong time and subsequently had been falsely arrested for the murder of a mailman. Of course, he would never do anything like that – not at that time, but the court wasn’t interested in his pleas. He lacked the money to buy a good lawyer, so he went to jail.

He didn’t start out in Alcatraz. No, they placed him somewhere much milder, a prison with a lesser reputation. At the start, he retained hope. His wife had promised she would spend every penny she owned to overturn the decision. It worked, after working three jobs to raise the money – she had the decision overturned. But, by that point, it was too late.

The Aryan Brotherhood, a racially motivated gang, had demanded he join their ranks. Of course, he declined; he wasn’t the type of person to associate himself with that type of group. That decision came back to bite him. Late at night, two of their members came to kill him. The guards were no use. They turned a blind eye; he was forced to take action. On that night, he killed them with his bare hands. Even though he won, a part of him died.

He was bounced around the prison system, where he was forced to fight to survive. Eventually, he ended up in Alcatraz, all alone – buried underground so society wouldn’t have to bother with him any longer. A fate worse than death.

To say he didn’t care about the guard’s feelings was an understatement. Even the kindest of men would have cracked under his circumstances. He was never a saint. He approached the guard, savoring the feeling of power. Being able to control his own destiny was an addicting feeling. No one would ever take away his freedom again.

“Stay away from me. I’m warning you, I’ll...”

Copperright cut him off. “You’re in no position to make demands. Now, give me the key to the prison cells, and I’ll let you go.” He kneeled in front of the restrained man, bringing his face uncomfortably close.

“I’d never do that. You’d have to kill me before I betrayed my duties,” the guard said, putting on a brave front.

“So be it.” Tommy savagely punched the guard in the face, breaking his nose. “I wish I could say I won’t enjoy this, but the truth is, I will.” The brutal beatdown continued, methodically breaking down the guard’s body.

“You stole 16 years of my life from me. Do you know what it’s like to be alone, truly alone - locked 30 feet below the ground with nothing to do all day? My contact with the outside world reduced to a single news report and a doctor’s visit each year,” he ranted as he beat the man, each strike releasing some of the violent emotions he had repressed.

Tears gathered in the corners of his eyes. His long hair and beard stood still; he couldn’t muster the desire to continue. “I missed my mother’s funeral. I wasn’t able to tell her I loved her one last time because you stole away my freedom. I wasn’t able to attend the birth of my daughter. She doesn’t even know what I look like.”

“But, I did nothing wrong. I wasn’t the one to imprison you. I didn’t do those things to you. I was just doing my job,” the guard muttered out of his broken jaw.

Tommy laughed, a certain mania overtaking him as he digested the guard’s words. “Nothing wrong? You can’t hide behind your job forever; it’s your decisions that have led you here. Tell me, what do you think this place is?” He looked out to the rows of prisoners, watching them from the confines of their cells.

His heart was filled with empathy as he stared at their shadowed forms. No one wanted to be a criminal. No one was born with the desire to hurt others in their hearts. It was the world's cruelty that forced them to change into something darker. It was a scenario that had been played out one too many times: a thief forced to steal to provide for their family, a child dragged into a conflict outside of their control, the mentally ill – left without the support they needed. Instead of helping these people, society shut its doors on them, pushing them far away, where no one would ever see them again.

The guards were complicit in the act. They were the ones in charge of implementing it, after all. For that, they would pay. Those who upheld evil were just as bad as those who created it.

Tommy waited, but no answer came from the guard, for they had already died. However, that did not matter; the answer wasn’t the guards to give. He riffled through the man’s clothing, locating the key. He held it in his grasp, resolving himself to do what was needed.

He would free them of their shackles. No one deserved to be locked away. They deserved a fair second shot at life. Freedom was a basic human right, especially in the apocalypse.

“This place does not represent justice. It doesn’t exist to facilitate reform; no, this is about control. Forcing us into roles that we do not have to continue playing. It’s about time we broke free of their chains,” he spoke loudly, projecting his voice to reach its maximum distance.

His chains dragged on the ground as he walked to the nearest cell. The small African man inside looked at him in confusion. Tommy smiled. “What’s your name?”

“Jason,” he said simply.

“Well, Jason, everyone deserves a second chance. Do you want to take it?” He unlocked the door and extended his hand. The man hesitantly took it. Tommy pulled him out of the cell, into freedom.

While walking to the next cell, he spotted a guard desperately sprint away into the darkness. He let the man escape. He had more important business to tend to at the moment. Their freedom would not be delayed any further.

One by one, he freed the rest of the prisoners, unlocking their cells and shaking their hands. The air gradually shifted around him as he worked. It was almost imperceptible, but there was something different about the man by the end. He had gained something unquantifiable.

Congratulations! Leadership 3→34. 31 Skill Points Awarded.