Roy sat with his back against the wall; he was aware of his soggy clothes and was loath to dirty the furniture. In one hand he held some cookies that he had pulled from his bag; in the other he held his pitchfork.

The great grandfather clock that sat in the living room was a wind up contraption, a blessing now that the electricity was out and a digital clock would be of no use. From it he could tell that it was nearing noon, which made for one hell of a morning, Roy thought to himself.

He had been resting for some time, after an hour or so Roy realized that his wounds were gone. Sure enough, the HP regeneration had kicked in and the little HP he lost to the cut he had sustained were now gone. There was not even the sign of a scar. His clothes on the other hand, were not regenerated. They were covered in cuts, some small, and other’s quite revealing.

He had checked the mirror and found that he looked like a hooligan; he was caked in mud, drenched in water, and wore scraps for clothes. Reluctantly, Roy stood up and walked up stairs. Mentally justifying his decision, Roy borrowed a change of clothes for the wardrobe in the master bedroom and cleaned himself up in the bathroom. There was no water so Roy settled for wiping himself down with the paper towels he found in the kitchen.

Roy looked himself over in the mirror as he patted down his hair. Brown trousers, suspenders, and a white dress shirt had replaced the t-shirt and shorts he wore this morning. His hair and eyes matched the color of his borrowed trousers, while his dress shirt bled into his skin which was pale from time spent indoors. The whole set gave him the look of a gentlemen, an appearance that couldn’t be further from the truth.

As he looked at himself in the mirror Roy was reminded of a fact and began to [Examine] his clothes, eager to find a piece of magical equipment. To his disappointment the clothes were just clothes. Done playing dress up with someone else’s property Roy took a seat on a chair that faced the window he had opened. The position gave him a good view of the outside, not that there was much to see in all that mist.

Roy sat motionless for some time, unsure of how to proceed. His first thought had been to check his phone, a habit he had been distracted from by the events of the last day. However, to his dismay his phone was broken, a fact that he should have been aware of when he had decided to submerge himself in the water. Looking at the useless bit of machinery, Roy could hardly put his own situation in order. What was he supposed to do?

This was problem solving, this was independence, this was responsibility. He could do whatever he wanted, and yet he could do nothing. Perhaps he should have gone to the auditorium, stuck with the group and listened to the instructions of the teachers. It would have sucked, but there was also relief in not having to determine his own course, in not having to shoulder the burden. Perhaps it was not too late, perhaps it he waited long enough the police would show up.

Roy spent the afternoon in the house; he looked at the various knickknacks that decorated the house, from old polaroids, to paintings that depicted sunsets and gardens, all well-ordered and peaceful in that imaginary world beyond the picture frame. There was something to look at on every bit of furniture, whether it was the boxy television or the gas stove. In comparison, his house was a Spartan affair. Blocky self-assembled furniture and sleek modern electronics, truly the home of a modern couple.

So Roy loitered around, occasionally stuffing his mouth with cookies. Inside he realized this couldn’t continue indefinitely. The fridge was stuffed with fresh produce and meat; there was not a single bit of preserved food in sight. At this rate the food would go bad, especially with the heat and humidity as they were. Not even his stash of cookies would last him much longer, considering he was having them three times a day.

He had to act, like all the times before. If he continued like this nothing good would come of it. He had to act, there was no other choice. If he looked at it like something that he had to do then things became easier, there was no need to plan. A vast field of daunting possibilities became a narrow road, a series of steps. It was like a quest, kill a hundred wolves, collect ten flowers, break into the house next door and secure some food.

He knew what he needed to do; he knew how to do it, that was all that mattered now. The future could be taken one step at a time. Roy straightened himself and returned to where he left his bag in the living room. The rod was leaned up against the wall, a magical device Roy would have only seen in a video game before his current conundrum. The excitement was greatly muffled, but still, magic was magic.

Roy recalled the earlier information of the blue screen regarding mana and liters of water. He assumed that to function, the two must be given to the rod. Water he could get, and mana he had, but it never occurred to him how he would be able to transfer his MP into the device. Or maybe it couldn’t be done; perhaps he needed to give it some magical crystal.

Recalling his trove of geeky knowledge, Roy took a seat on the carpet and closed his eyes. Next he slowed his breathing and emptied his mind. In this state Roy sat, it would all be worth it if he could only shoot out fireballs.

Then Roy opened his eyes and blinked away the rheum that had accumulated. His body was sour as he pushed himself up from the floor. Still groggy Roy checked the time; it was four in the morning. He had fallen asleep while trying to acquire a sense of his mana.

The room was pitch dark, the absence of electricity meant that not even the light from a few stray streetlights would flood into the house now. Roy fumbled in the dark of a while, before he finally found his bag. He quickly pulled out his keychain and turned on the small flashlight attached to it. The feeble light barely lit up the room; the far walls were curtains of shadow. They bled past corners and into adjoining rooms, where corners and edges kept the light away.

It was as if the house was the victim of a murky deluge, creeping into the house through the broken window. The glass shards still stuck on the frame resembled rows of jagged teeth, their edges glinting with reflected light. Past those gates was the outside. It was a moonless, starless, night. Like the world was buried under the fog, a pervasive, ever encroaching presence that oozed malevolence.

With desperate haste, Roy pulled down the blinds over the broken window. He was fighting off an unseen foe, a presence that had tunneled into every corner of the house. There were candles and a small lighter in the kitchen. Some candles on spindly metal seats and others in glass stands. Roy lit them, one by one, enough to light up all the dark corners of the first floor, enough to fend of the dark for just one night.

Roy sat at the center of the room, within the circle of candles he had set up. He leaned against the back of the sofa as he pulled in his legs in an effort to shrink into an imaginery shell. If only he could pull himself tighter and tighter until he was nothing but a dot, wrapped up in his own world. It had been ages since he was last afraid of the dark.

Next he awoke the night had given way to day. The scenery remained unchanged, a field of grey, dotted with smudges of darker shades. Nothing distinct could be made out in that miasmic sludge. It was nine by the time Roy had finished his breakfast, another pack of cookies.

Now somewhat rested Roy returned to his previous conundrum, he needed to revise his methodology in regards to mana. He inspected the magical rod. The symbols seemed significant; they were concentrated near the tip, where the gem was embedded. The rod was hollow, there was a hole the size of a large coin at the tip end of the rod.

As Roy turned the rod in his hands he spotted what looked almost like a seam running lengthwise across the wooden surface. Roy traced the line until it met a circle with a symbol inside. As Roy’s hand came in contact with the symbol, he felt a small tug to his surprise. Quickly he examined the rod, but the mana was still zero out of zero.

Concentrating, Roy put his hand over the symbol again, this time the tug was much clearer, it wasn’t just a figment of his imagination. Roy kept his hand there but to his frustration the mana gauge on the rod was still empty. Then it occurred to Roy that he felt a tug, like he was being pulled. Nothing was leaving him and so nothing entered the rod.

But what exactly was being tugged. Roy concentrated on the tugging and suddenly there it was. Like a second skin, a substance that permeated every bit of his body. Roy was snapped out of his trance by the appearance of a blue screen.

Skill Up!

Mana Sense LV 0 > LV 1 (Novice)

There was the confirmation; he had been able to feel his own mana. Now that he knew it existed it became an ever present sensation, like how he aware of the limbs of his body. Once again Roy touched the symbol on the rod, immediately he could feel his mana being tugged at by a slight force, almost like he was being prompted.

Perhaps if he relaxed his hold on the mana, like he would loosen his muscles and letting gravity take hold. Thinking so Roy tried to work his fictitious ‘mana muscles’. It felt almost as if his body was loosening its hold on that substance that filled him to the brim. It began to diffuse into the air, at the same time the tug of the symbol began to suck in the mana from his body, the slight pull enough to take in the now free roaming substance.

Then another blue screen popped up.

Skill Up!

Mana Sense LV 1 > LV 3 (Novice)

That was quick, it was as if the screen could gauge progress; maybe it wasn’t giving him levels based on how many times he did something, but how well he could do it. If he had been an excellent shot, the system might have rapidly elevated his pistol mastery skill level.

The System filled in gaps in knowledge, he could attest to this fact from his experience with the pistol skill, and it provided supernatural bonuses like making his attacks with pole weapons increase in force. Roy closed the pop up and turned back to the rod. To his surprise the symbols on the rod were glowing, emitting a faint blue light. The tugging was also gone now, but when he looked at his [Status] he found that his MP was still quickly falling.

His body was still giving up on its hold over the mana. Now Roy did the opposite, he tightened his hold over the mana. To his satisfaction his MP stopped dropping, and yet another notification appeared.

Skill Up!

Mana Sense LV 3 > LV 4 (Novice)

Now he needed to provide the rod with two liters of water, a fact complicated by the lack of running water. However, there was still water in the tank of the toilet.

It took some self-motivation for Roy to finally collect the water from the tank using several cups he found around the house. Only after finishing did the fact that he wouldn’t be able to wash his hands dawn on him. Pushing aside that inconvenient truth, Roy dumped the contents of the cups into the opening at the tip of the rod. It was as good as a place as any, Roy had thought.

The guess had been right and the water gauge on the [Examine] screen of the rod quickly filled up. Everything was ready; Roy reluctantly raised the blinds, hoisted the rod and pointed it out the broken window. All he had to do now was fire.

Pushing down his sense of frustration Roy inspected all the symbols on the Rod, again. There was probably a trigger somewhere; he just had to find it. Pointing the tip away from himself, Roy traced his fingers around every symbol he could find. Then Roy felt it, another slight tugging, this time from a small circle near the tip, located at the right side of the weapon if he thought of the reloading symbol as facing downwards.

Roy took up position again at the window and loosened his hold over his mana. The small symbol only sucked in a drop, but from the hole at the tip a jet of lime colored liquid shot out. The liquid flew a dozen meters before splashing into the water. The gems were glowing like tiny lightbulbs, enough to illuminate the room Roy stood in, then the light faded and the jet spluttered out.

Roy inspected the weapon, both gauges were empty. It had persisted for around 4 seconds. Now he would need to refill it with water, a very time consuming endeavor. To do so in the middle of a fight with a monster was inconceivable to Roy.

Since it was flooded outside, it occurred to Roy that he could refill the weapon using the water on the ground. Roy looked out the window and checked the surroundings before opening the front door. First Roy filled the mana gauge like before, and then he lowered the rod into the water.

A symbol began to glow near the tip of the weapon, the water began to distort as it was sucked in through the opening at a rapid rate. Then the symbol dimmed and Roy picked up the rod again, the weapon had a quick reload function. It wasn’t free though, he had filled the weapon with mana, but now it was a quarter empty.

Roy topped of the mana gauge and fired another stream into his surroundings. He felt like he was shooting a water gun, for a second he felt like he was playing pretending. They were running across the neighborhood with their toy weapons and shooting at imaginary boogeymen. Roy hoped that the rod was vastly more destructive than a water gun.