Heroes and Villains are one thing, Good and Evil, another. The betterment of the world need not come from heroic deeds and actions of glory but from the touch of kindness and progression. Likewise, evil need not come from only what is visible in the light, but also from the seeds of corruption lurking between the shadows of thought.

- On Morality of Powers

Ludus stared at his things, arms crossed, and hand rubbing his chin. He’d set them out like one might prepare clothes for the next day. They were organized as they would appear on his body, or put to the side if inapplicable.

In the middle, a patchwork set of leathers, browns, greys, and blacks, all combined into a particularly unassuming vest. The [Rathide Armor] offered full coverage of his upper body which he appreciated beyond the bonuses to his CON and DEX. Not to mention the camouflage it afforded at night.

On the right-hand side, a rusted sword that looked less menacing and more broken when not covered in blood. The [Sewer Sword]. It was certainly a dangerous piece of equipment, as it could rend flash even without a continuous edge.

In addition, his [Ratbane Bracelet]. Probably one of the most simple effects yet simultaneously the most usable. That 10% increase in damage against rat-aligned enemies was a significant bonus.

On the left, what looked to be a simple twig or branch. To Ludus, the [Wildwood Wand] seemed the highest quality thing he had. It was obviously a carved thing. Meticulous, despite being a Common Item. A small boon to his spellcasting.

The [Flexwood Armband] as well. Nothing more than a band of predictably flexible wood. He hadn’t noticed the tightness on his bicep until he’d taken it off. It had been such a constant recently.

To the side, a plethora of healing Items. He’d spent a good chunk of his Credits on them, around 80 total. In his opinion, money well spent. Alongside the white jars of [Antibiotic Salve] and white rolls of [Simple Bandages], there was a clear jar of sap.

Item: [Redsap Balm] (Uncommon)

A healing ointment made from the lifeblood sap of a redsap tree. It promotes the healing and soothing of damaged skin. Effectiveness may vary dependent on application.

- Increases health regeneration by 10%

- Recovers 1% of max health every hour

It was a necessary expenditure as far as he was concerned. While it had cost him the majority of the Credits he’d spent on healing supplies, he judged that better than dying. The sap itself was the color you’d expect. He suspected the Item was fairly potent too since the jar itself was no larger than a pickle jar.

A paltry 1% of max health every hour. But, therein lay the nuance to his power. That effect varied on application, meaning it could actually rise, and it would be a localized effect applied to a single injured area. That measly maximum health percentage could easily equate to regrown skin and mended flesh when concentrated locally.

And then, of course, there was the new equipment.

Far be it for Ludus to sit waiting. He still wasn’t sure what it meant to have this power, but he was certain it was at least his responsibility to see it out. To whatever end may come, he’d hate to be without the capacity he could’ve had.

This was him ensuring he’d never be powerless again, not by his own choice.

He’d done his shopping a little more consciously this time, aware of how his equipment would look in an ordinary setting.

The first of his purchases had been in line with the direction of his ‘build’. He’d been debating the expenditure, considering the newfound importance of all stats—Constitution most evident. Dying obviously, was not particularly conducive to growing.

The nature of a wildcard super made him consider the merit of spreading out. He’d recognized it as the safest option but also one without the potency to push forward.

He required a spear. To pierce the unknown and grow in power. For him, it was [Lightning Touched] and [Lightning Magic]. Those were his strengths, his weapon. And so that was what he’d work with.

The [Wizard’s Carved Ring] was among a myriad of similar carved rings. All had been made of wildwood, all meticulous in the manner of most wildwood products.

Item: [Wizard’s Carved Ring] (Uncommon)

A ring carved from wildwood depicting in stark detail, the stereotypical wizard. The ring is touched with the propensity of magic, the wood itself infused.

- 5% increase in mana efficiency

- 5% increase to spell efficacy

Ludus would have to do some further testing regarding the bonuses. The ring was beautiful, unassuming unless under scrutiny. The other rings had similar bonuses in line with their respective symbols. A warrior, ranger, dancer, and more. Some were not entirely applicable to combat, which was curious.

Next, the [Moonsilk Cloak], which stood out less than you might think. It wasn’t exactly modern attire but it didn’t look too different from anything else with a hood. Not enough to turn the eye, that was, which suited him.

Item: [Moonsilk Cloak] (Uncommon)

A cloak made from the silk of a species of spiders that spin their webs only in the presence of moonlight. The cloth is light, breathable, and surprisingly durable for how soft it is.

- 5% of max mana can be stored in the cloak

- 5% increased mana regeneration during the night

- 15% increased mana regeneration while under moonlight

It was a light grey. A pale color not unlike the moon itself. The idea of three mana-based benefits was instantly attractive to him. Magic, after all, was taxing. Since mana was the one thing he needed to use his magic, the cloak was perfect.

Lastly, the purchase Ludus was most happy with. He considered it the most essential of all his purchases, and likely the most valuable to his circumstance.

Item: [Shadewoven Mask] (Uncommon)

A simple mask woven made from a variant of cotton native to the wilds. It covers the face against all those who are curious.

- 10% more difficult to identify

That percentage could save his life. These misleadingly diminutive percentages always made Ludus double-take on the information presented. It was a percentage increase that was compounded by the nature of the mask itself an additional benefit to a piece of attire already suited to concealing his identity. And how many people would even be able to identify him with a full face covering?

He smiled, ready.

The Items disappeared into his inventory, taking up their ‘slots’ or ‘pockets’. Ludus referred to those dimensional spaces as either. His inventory was likely the most convenient thing about his power.

The next moment, he was fully equipped, keeping a spare freshly-washed change of clothes in his inventory as well. This time, he was ready. He’d taken the time to think of everything he might need, on the assumption he could even be stranded for days at a time. Anything and everything he might need to survive.

He’d thought worst-case and prepared for it.

Food in the form of fruits, vegetables, and meat. All non-perishable, as far as his inventory was concerned. A good chunk of that food was already prepared and cooked, perfectly in stasis and waiting for him. A ‘stack’ of a hundred water bottles, ice-cold, and which was apparently limited to 100. A sleeping bag and tent for shelter if he needed it. A flashlight and lantern. An entire cooking pot, tinder and wood, along with a firestarter. Even mundane first-aid kits. And more too.

He’d thought of everything, staring at the person in the mirror.

Ludus couldn’t see his face. It was covered by the shadows of his hood. He thought he caught sight of something green, but only because he was looking for it. There wasn’t a single feature he could make out.

His stance was easy and comfortable. A grey, unassuming cloak. There wasn’t really much of anything else to say. Ludus equipped his [Wildwood Wand]. Barely a ruffle of the man’s robe. He did so with the [Sewer Sword], seeing the man reach out and grab that familiar blade. Next, another of his purchases, a bow and arrow. Mundane since he couldn’t afford another Item. The man in the mirror held his bow low, a quiver on his shoulder.

Then Ludus pulled his hood down, took his mask off, and put away his weapons. The man mirrored him. He grinned and the man grinned back. Ludus smiled at himself.

“This will do.”

It had been a couple of days since his ‘adventure’ in [Newhold Sewers]. Being a literal mummy for that time had done surprising wonders for his health. His wounds had healed incredibly fast. Not at the jaw-dropping speed of instantaneous recovery, but enough where wounds that should’ve taken a least a couple of weeks healed in a couple of days.

He wasn’t sure exactly how his application of the [Simple Bandages] and the [Antibiotic Salve] affected their recovery bonuses but it was certainly compounded by being covered in them.

“Fourteen-day recovery time shortened to two?” He said to himself, rolling his shoulder. “What was that, then? 700%?” Did that even make sense? He was covered from head to toe in bandages and salve.

He was still feeling stiff, to be honest. Though with more than enough mobility to move across the city. That was all he needed.

Without preamble, he left his cabin and started walking.

His minimap sharpened into focus. A myriad of icons displayed all over the city. The three-dimensional topographical map was especially useful in trickier terrain. It allowed him an intrinsic sense of direction, even when he’d been in the metro.

With a mental nudge, he zoomed out, taking in all of Newhold. Everywhere he’d ever been, even before his power, tracked in the blacks and greys of his minimap. Places unexplored, visited, and unfrequented, all stark in the gradient of time.

There was one place he was heading. A private place, dangerous, yes, but perfect for his intentions.

The Thicket.

The home of huts, treehouses, lodges, and cabins—a community—found within a veritable forest right here in the city, all nestled up against the southern walls. It was a place for homesteaders, homeless, hermits, and the like—criminals too, though crime was less than one might think—a population of people who declined to move on account of an abundance of food and land, courtesy of The Wilds seeping through to the city.

It was a small section of South Hold consumed by nature that was larger than you thought. Another supernatural effect of the Wilds, the PAT had a particular spatial effect surrounding it. The main reason it was larger than it seemed was because it was.

It was one of the aspects of the Wilds that made it truly wild—alive. That allowed life to sprout in abundance. The forests were more extensive than they had any right to be, being nearly ten times as large as the actual land it occupied. Hunters or other people who braved the PAT proper were known to get lost there.

In short, it meant the Thicket, that Wild-touched forest within the walls of Newhold, was nearly a quarter of the size of the entire city. Despite being a small section of South Hold.

As it so happened, for a certain rat-hating young man, the place was a prime hunting ground for rathounds. The pertinent subject of a certain Quest he was suddenly keen on completing.

Quest: [Rats of South Hold] (Unusual)

Newhold is home to many oddities, among them the pesky rathounds of the Wilds. As prolific as their regular counterparts, with all the durability and hardiness of cockroaches, while simultaneously matching the size of medium dogs. A colony lives somewhere in South Hold, eliminate or sufficiently cull its numbers.

Colony destroyed: 0/1

Rathounds killed: 3/500

Rewards: Random (Unusual) Item

After his encounter in the sewers, he couldn’t be happier to start. He wondered if traumas like that were what bred phobias. All it had done for Ludus was foster a deep-seated hate for all things rat, although he supposed that was the other end of the spectrum.

He turned down one street and the city suddenly ceded to nature. It was still part of South Hold but as all locals knew, there was a different air about it. Fresher, cleaner. A mark of the Wilds, right here in the city, and thus a mark of danger. It was still within the walls, but that was a false assurance and a quick way to find yourself in trouble.

Ludus supposed it must be different for other city-folk. For him, the transition between concrete and soil was a natural thing, expected. The shift from pedestrian to hiker was just as easy. Safety and danger, so close together.

Strange things all but normal in Newhold.

He found a tree, larger than anything in the city, and started hauling himself upward. The best place for a hunter was in the trees. Animals didn’t tend to look up, most never needed to.

The trees were ancient things, enhanced by powers, even had the city wanted to remove them Ludus doubted they’d have an easy time of it. They were large enough and thick enough he could walk on their branches with ease, space to spare.

After some time he realized he was moving easier. A benefit of [Acrobatics]. He’d been climbing trees all his life and he’d never felt so much like a monkey. He grabbed a branch and swung over to another, landing with a confidence in his balance he’d never had before.

He jumped, catching a vine, and climbed higher, stepping onto a thinner branch. He walked, his silence accompanied by birdsong somewhere in the trees.

He dropped to a crouch, grinning at the feeling.

It was then he noticed his minimap. “Huh, so that’s how it deals with it.” He said, after a moment.

It had suddenly enlarged, showcasing a sea of blackness to rival the size of South Hold. The indication of areas he’d never been to. The area of the Thicket he’d never ventured. The extra space hidden by the PAT. That was…

“About almost all of it.” He said, staring at a grey area on his minimap. His eyes lingered for a heartbeat.

He’d almost forgotten what it was like to be here. It was such that it seemed the forest itself was moving as if you could hear the breath of the trees in your ear. He’d forgotten about that, how the forest felt more awake.

Movement below. Above, Ludus slowed, taking out his bow and arrow before pausing to stare at it. Old habits. He put it away, his [Wildwood Wand] coming out instead. It was a rathound, he’d know that chittering snarl anywhere.

But, he was intent on finding better hunting grounds, and when there was one rathound, there were more. He followed it quietly, a specter among the canopy. This went on for a few minutes, long minutes, the rathound stopping to sniff or investigate anything the least bit interesting.

Until it came across friends, two others. He let them mingle as he looked around. It took Ludus a moment to spot it. A tunnel. An entrance—or exit—to their colony or nest.

“Oh good.”

A blinding flash of blue erupted from the trees, electrocuting all three. A peal of thunder rang out—the kind of noise Mother Nature used to quiet mortals. And Ludus was above, watching the rathounds spasm and twitch, brows raised in surprise.

He quieted as well though, waiting for something. Anything. Then the sounds of the forest flooded again and he relaxed, staring at the bodies.

He smiled, his intuition correct. His Titles were in obvious effect.

Title: [One Man Army] (Epic)

Requirements: Defeat 250 Enemies of Greater Level Alone In A Single Encounter.

You are a tide breaker against both armies and hordes. The mass of bodies crash against you, only for you to stand and they to break. You have faced down countless enemies, rising higher upon their corpses, holding steady upon a mountain. What hope does an army have against a single man as strong as their whole?

- 30% increase to efficacy when outnumbered

- 20% increase to efficacy when alone

Title: [Rathound Slayer] (Common)

Requirements: Defeat 100+ Rathounds In A Single Encounter or Extinguish A Rathound Colony

You are the bane to all rathounds. They are, as any rat, nothing more than a pest to be exterminated. They come in hordes, hiding in nooks and crannies, repopulating and infecting. You are unavoidable and absolute, slaying them in number countless times.

- 33% increased damage to rathounds

- 10% increased damage to other rat-aligned enemies

With any luck, it would make his hunting go much much easier. Though he didn’t think he’d have to worry in that regard. He was staring at the blackened portion of the ground, comparing it to the mana he’d expended. That 50% efficacy, along with his [Wizard’s Carved Ring], [Wildwood Wand], and [Ratbane Bracelet], was doing wonders.

Somewhere along the way, he’d become a demon to rathounds. Considering all the conditions for his [One Man Army] Title would hold if he faced anything more than a single rathound—a foe that often came in number—he was feeling good.

His attention dropped below again, eyeing the nest. He wasn’t so much looking for the tunnel to stake it out, but rather to find the general location of the nest.

Rathounds were annoying like that. They abandoned anywhere that was being watched and escaped underground to resurface hours or days later in an entirely new spot.

They were incredibly invasive and the Wilds only supported their numbers. With the pests burrowing everywhere, Ludus wasn’t sure they’d ever be eradicated. He saw a shape dart out of the hole, a mat of fur coasting across the grass. It stopped, hesitant as it came across the corpses. Its muscles tensed—

Lightning. Thunder. Ludus above, lowering his wand. A smoking corpse.

“That would be the scout.” He said after a moment. There wouldn’t be another for a few hours, probably. Rathounds were damn smart.

He checked his minimap, noting the way his path was carving through the unknown. One of his main worries was getting lost but that didn’t seem like it’d be a problem. If he wanted, he could simply turn around and head back to the border of the Thicket, something he’d now always know the direction of.

Instead, he started hunting. It was a relatively safe way to get acquainted with what he could do. Although that relativity would forever be skewed after being chased by a literal horde of infected rathounds.

Nevertheless. His mind turned inward as he started moving. It was nice to be somewhere private again, somewhere he could truly experiment once more. Moving through the trees was a familiar feeling and old habits took over that automatic part of his mind and his conscious thought drifted inevitably to his powers and what he could do.

Magic was a strange notion, especially in the context of supers. What made something magic, as opposed to just plain old telekinesis? Or control over fire? It was widely debated. Generally, the consensus was this: the ability to produce a myriad of effects with the capacity for skill and knowledge to play a role.

Skill: [Lightning Magic] (Epic)

The capacity to understand the flow of mana as it pertains to the element of lightning. Mana as power, raging in an ever-present tempest. The storm calls to you. The chaos of power absolute held in your mind as a shock of lightning. The air around you stands on edge, buzzing with anticipation, electricity dances.

“Mana as it pertains to the element of lightning.” He whispered, curious at the words.

He wondered how much he could control it. In the metro, he’d focused on the classical lightning bolt, forging a connection between him and his target and pouring mana through. That was the very nature of lightning, the most instinctual. Now, he wondered at more.

He’d let loose lightning from every part of his body in the sewer, hadn’t he? What else was he capable of? The thought exhilarated him. That wasn’t even to mention his [Lightning Magic] Skill.

What was it again? The words came to him easily. “An increased intuition, prowess, competency, and ease regarding a particular field.” He said. “In my case, lightning magic.”

There was also his Trait.

Trait: [Lightning Touched] (Epic)

You’ve experienced, in some way or another, the unadulterated power of a fundamental force of nature on a level of lethality so pronounced it is a miracle you still breathe. Every cell in your body vibrates with energy. To be subject to lightning is to witness the sublime, to feel it and know it. An awakening like no other.

- 100% increase in lightning resistance

- 100% increase in reflexes and reaction speed

- 20% increase in efficacy regarding lightning-based abilities

- Gain random lightning-based Skill: [Lightning Magic]

That efficacy bonus was important. Power, range, intended effect, control, efficiency. Everything lighting, better.

He closed his eyes and opened them, looking at his hands. Sparks of electricity ran up and down his fingers. That moving web of crackling power, tinging the air with ozone, sending hairs upright. A buzz to challenge any insect hum.

It was… hard to describe. His magic was reliant on the detail of the image he held, his understanding of what he was imagining, and the mana he devoted to the process. Those were the very basic factors, among countless others he couldn’t yet parse but instinctively knew.

“I suppose getting electrocuted helps with electrocuting things.” He muttered, turning his hands over.

He reached into the air, electrified hand forming around the handle of his [Sewer Sword]. Immediately, its metal surface sparked with electricity. The hum took on a different tone. He swung it around a few times before pointing it, an arc of lightning blinding the eye as it touched the ground. A clap of thunder followed.

The next rathound he found, Ludus positioned himself above it. It didn’t register the hum of electricity before Ludus jumped, flipping in the air, and severing its neck with an electrically charged sword…

“That… didn’t really tell me how the electricity might help. Oops.”

In the following encounter, he made contact with the rathound’s leg using the tip of his sword, a light slash. The surprise attack would’ve sent any rathound running, but this one spasmed, falling on its belly. Twitching. Control returned after a moment and—

Ludus decapitated it.

The next prey he found he kept pinned under his sword. He would’ve felt bad for any other animal, truthfully. He realized he could control the current. Finding what was enough for incapacitation versus electrocution—the latter an unfortunate end for the rathound.

He went to the trees, roaming the area and testing his abilities. He hunted, truly living up to the name of [Rathound Slayer], practicing new techniques and getting familiar with his limits. Too, he was testing the ‘feeling’ of his efficacy buffs kicking in, trying to pinpoint their effects.

Two rathounds snarled at him. They’d tried to run twice, he didn’t let them.

“Come one, you literal rat bastards.” He goaded, sword in hand.

They rushed him, that part of him afraid of snarling beasts immediately quelled. They launched forward like missiles, Ludus was surprised how slow they seemed. His body moved and he was sliding underneath them.

He could get more out of his lightning than before, weak bolts of lightning now staggering them. He could feel it more clearly, see everything more clearly. His sword was lighter, his swings more controlled. He was just better. Potent. Effective.

His feet were sure under him and he stepped on the rathound’s face as it came to bite him, slamming its chin into the dirt. His sword took its neck as it passed.

Then he was no longer outnumbered.

It didn’t quite feel like getting weaker, he imagined that would be jarring, draining in the way taking off his [Rathide Armor] might feel to his injured past self. Instead, it was simply… the fading of borrowed strength—that his power had been stretched, only now to return to normal.

The majority of it, that was. He was still alone and thus one condition of his [One Man Army] Title still held.

“Let’s try 20% then.” He grinned, staring at the rathound.

It was a strange sensation. That intuition of his, inherent to his power. It was telling him, subconsciously, what he was capable of. He knew it in the way he moved. Not quite as fast, nor strong, nor magical, yet just as sure as he’d been with or without the added efficacy.

When he was done testing his limits, a lightning bolt to the dome finished the job. He turned back to the trees, only to pause and regard the corpse one last time. He tried something, succeeded, and went back to hunting.

Time passed and it was never hard to find a new target, not here so close to a nest.

He was trying something new. He charged his arrow with lightning. He spotted his quarry, nibbling at berries below. An arrow stuck itself in its thigh, uncharged. Ludus raised his head and frowned, tracking the fleeing rathound before letting loose once more.

Its body rolled. A mundane death. The arrow hadn’t carried his magic as intended.

Ludus retrieved his arrows, looking at them thoughtfully. He wasn’t sure about the merit of the idea as something he’d actually use, but he was curious if it could be pulled off. Obviously, as soon as he’d ‘let go’ of the magic the electricity would act on its own and discharge into the air.

The only thing was; it was magic. It should work. That certainty drove him. In the end, it took him more arrows than he’d like to admit. It was like pressing mana into his arrow, to be released on impact. Having it fly while charged was a pointless waste of mana. And when it did impact?

The rathound was fried, an arrow sticking out of its butt. He’d put in too much mana, a consequence of inexperience. It really wasn’t any different from just casting a lightning bolt though. He couldn’t outright think of a situation he’d need an arrow where a wand might do. Regardless, the option was nice.

He was also getting used to his body. Running, sprinting for minutes on end, an unintended and welcome side-effect of his increased Constitution. His body felt stronger, durable, now that he had free reign to test its limits.

It was a day full of testing various applications of his abilities. His Skills as the main focus. By the end of it, he came away with the knowledge there was a lot more to either than he thought.

When the moons came out, maybe it was because of his acute awareness of his magic all day, but he felt his mana regeneration discernibly quicken. His [Moonsilk Cloak], no doubt. He sat, lax upon the trunk of a tree and high into the canopy.

He had a peaceful dinner, one probably not associated with wilderness survival—grilled cheese. It was hot, right from the pan, and delicious. Then he found a nook in the tree, took out his sleeping bag, got in, and watched the moons.

His eyes drifted to that grey area of the Thicket again, remembering.