Ten deaths later, something changed.

Prota remembered something. She remembered, just before she’d died for the first time, creating a small sphere of energy, just like the ones John had made…

She focused, trying to recall the feeling, clenching her eyes as she held her hands out in front of her.

“Wh- hey!” John exclaimed. “Isn’t that…”

“That’s just a property of [Soul Steal],” Zero chuckled in his mind. John hurriedly pulled out the description.

[ [Soul Steal]: The ability to take a target’s energy source and use it as your own. By taking the target’s energy, you also somewhat learn how to use their abilities, although never to the degree they use them.]

That was right. She’d been able to reset because she’d taken John’s energy, allowing her to use some of his abilities.

“...” John stared for a bit, then burst out laughing. “What a broken ability,” he said, as if his own ability wasn’t broken.

“That’s pure mana, Prota,” John explained. “It’s just raw energy. I use it because it does a lot of damage, but it also consumes a lot of energy, mana in this world I guess. I can use it constantly because I have an endless amount, but I wouldn’t recommend using it too much. However…”

He got up with a grunt and grinned. “I think it wouldn’t hurt to learn how to use it a bit.”

They went outside, and John’s eye lit up brilliantly.

“Power: x1000.”

He held his hand out, and a small orb formed in front of his palm.

“It’s not a lot, because my power level isn’t high enough, but it’s here. Try making one of these.”

Prota tried imitating John’s pose and held out her hand, squeezing her eyes as she pictured a white glowing orb in front of her palm… She could feel mana being pulled out of her core as it went to the tips of her fingers.

“Nice!” she heard John exclaim. She opened her eyes to see a small white orb formed in front of her palm. It was smaller and a lot rougher than John’s, but it was there.

“...uh, now try shooting it, like this,” John said as the orb flew outwards, smashing into a tree and knocking it over.

Prota cocked her head as she stared at John’s hand. How was she supposed to…?

“John, you’re a terrible teacher,” Zero sighed, appearing. “For now, Prota, think of it like a ball. Try… uh, try throwing it.”

She looked at it hesitantly, then grabbed the orb and threw it. It didn’t go as far and travelled with a lot less speed, but it hit the ground and created a decent sized explosion.

“...you know, if you can teach things like that why don’t you just take over this whole thing?” John grumbled. “Since you’re so much better and all.”

“It’s fun watching you struggle,” Zero grinned. “Besides, it’s a good experience for you.”

“Good experience my ass,” John sighed. “You know very well I hate doing work unless absolutely necessary.”

“Well, I hate doing work too,” Zero shrugged. “So… go do work.”

He disappeared.

“You bastard! Get back here!” John yelled angrily, shaking his fist at now empty air. However, there was no response and he was forced to calm down.

“Well… I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it,” he sighed, shrugging. “Why don’t we try putting your new knowledge to use?”

With a grin, he dashed in, and the 11th death occurred.

~~~

Over a series of 39 more deaths, Prota became somewhat adept with pure mana. She learned how to fire it the way John did and was now capable of forming three orbs at once. She could also alter the form somewhat, although the form altering didn’t do anything useful yet. However, with practice, it could take shape of a weapon which would probably prove very useful. She could also aim it fairly well now, hitting the target dummies nine out of ten times, compared to when she’d tried to shoot it when facing off against the army of priests.

Upon learning how to form mana, John also taught her how to amplify her body with magic. It was something that automatically happened for him when he changed his power level, but it was still a concept he was familiar with. Her already weak body couldn’t be strengthened all that much, but it enabled her to move quicker, and combined with her already light body and the hours of training John had put her through, she was quite nimble by the end of it.

With this, she also lasted a full ten seconds longer than usual by the 50th death. However, that wasn’t the only accomplishment she’d achieved.

She had learned to drain mana while fighting. It was something she’d learned to do while fighting through experience, but it was probably an accomplishment much greater than that of being able to use pure mana.

“...” John looked at the small girl and thought. If she could copy abilities, then… wasn’t this going to be easy?

John formed a fireball in one hand.

“Can you… copy this?” he said hesitantly. Prota’s eyes lit up as she drew at John’s mana, but shook her head.

“No,” she muttered. “Can’t copy.”

“...this shit system,” John cursed. He formed a blizzard in the other hand, but the result remained the same. He sighed and sat down. Prota walked up to him worriedly as if the situation was her fault, but John smiled and shook his head.

“You know, it’s not the magic system. It’s just you,” Zero reprimanded. “You just need to be better. Your magic at its core is pure mana. Just because you learned how to focus it into elements doesn’t mean that’s what your ability is. She can’t copy anything you can’t do.”

John shrugged. “I really thought I found a good shortcut there.”

Zero laughed. “The author would have to be really lazy to let things happen just like that.”

As John and Zero went back and forth, Prota looked with shining eyes at the flames and the ice John’d created. Something about them fascinated her, the way the fire burned, the way the ice glittered...

“...” She looked at her small hands and closed her eyes. A small fire in the right… a small blizzard in the left… hot and cold, like yin and yang...

She opened her eyes in surprise as she heard John give a shout.

“...!”

There was a small fire in her right hand and a small blizzard in the left. It was nowhere near the intensity John had made them at, but it was there.

“...is this broken or what? How does she pick that up just like that?” John glared at Zero accusingly. “I thought you said it would be lazy writing if she just picked things up like that.”

Zero stared. “...right. That’s how magic works.”

John looked at Zero. “What nonsense are you going on about now?”

“Magic is a reflection of the soul. The mana core and the soul are somewhat connected, so a mage’s magical affinities tend to reflect the person. Prota, however, probably just awakened her mana core after taming it, so it now reflects her personality… if I were to guess as a reader, the blizzard represents the cold of her soul while the fire represents the warmth she desires. Something like that.”

His face darkened as he looked away. “God, that was cringe. I hope I never have to do that again.” He cleared his throat and turned back.

“In any event, isn’t this good news?”

John continued to stare at Prota’s hands as the magic faded out. “...this really is just lazy writing.”

~~~

A hundred deaths later, Prota was somewhat ready. Her magic was nowhere near good enough to be compared to any adventurer, but it was a start. Pure mana as well as slight manipulation of fire and ice… On top of all this, she was quite the fox, now able to dodge a variety of John’s attacks, imbuing her body with mana to the best of her ability.

It was a good start. They still had a year left.

John had very high hopes for her. Her ability [Soul Steal] was a lot more powerful than either of them really realized.

The more people they met, the more abilities Prota would learn to use. Obviously, it would never be as good as the people they met, but just being able to use such a wide array of magic was exceptional in itself.

The other thing to consider was that draining mana from someone else was an insane balancer between the two fighters. John had an infinite amount of mana, so they never really noticed this while they fought, but since all mages had a finite amount of mana, being able to drain them of it would drastically impact the direction of the fight.

However, for now, they were content with where they were at.

Except for one thing.

“...you didn’t finish the story,” Prota pouted.

“Huh?”

“The story,” she repeated. “You didn’t finish it.”

“...That’s right, I didn’t, huh…”

“Let’s finish it now, then,” he smiled. She hopped into his lap as he pulled up a screen of text using his system, and then the storyteller began to tell a story once more.

~~~

The next six months were spent comfortably. John didn’t dare risk going back into the public, especially considering that Prota was wanted by both the demon lord and the church. The one year limit was to help Prota grow mentally, but also to let her grow physically in hopes that she wouldn’t be recognized. He would occasionally go into the markets for essentials, cloaking himself and generally hiding his face but most of the food they got was from hunting.

John sometimes made Prota hunt using magic, but more often he would go out hunting himself. He would pull out a short small metal object that Prota had initially assumed was a magic item, but John explained to her that it was something entirely different.

“It’s called a gun,” he grinned. “I love this thing. This is way better than any kind of magic.”

She tried shooting it once, but the recoil of the shot caused her hand to slam into her nose, giving her a nosebleed. She stared at the object, dropped it, and never used it again.

Over the course of the six months, the number of nightmares Prota had decreased over time, and the number of times John would stare into the fire with that strange look on his face diminished as well. However, Prota worried about him. Often, he would walk out of the house with a blank look on his face, and it would make her feel uncomfortable.

She’d noticed that the look in his eyes was always the same. He’d smile, but his eyes always told the truth. He was never what could be called “truly happy.” It was always a mask he put on. It was very convincing, to be sure, but after living with him for over a year she noticed that he wasn’t exactly how he seemed to be.

However, she did notice that his eyes would sometimes light up, and his grin would change. Often it was when he was telling stories, but sometimes not, but…

It was always when he was around Prota.

She didn’t really understand the curse John had been placed under. In the first place, the ability to [Reset] was a curse in itself. Many would consider it a great gift until they experienced it themselves; the feeling of meeting people all over again as if nothing had ever happened, watching your closest friends die, only to see them cheerful as if they’d never been desperate. He wanted to stop making friends but found that he couldn’t.

John was someone that wanted people to bond with.

And so he pushed through and made it to the end of his own story, only to find out that everything in the world was just a story. Nothing was real. Everyone he’d met was simply a “character,” a fictional being created by someone like him, a “writer.”

And so the man who wanted someone to love couldn’t find anyone to love. None of his emotions were real, because the easiest way to protect himself was to simply stop feeling altogether. There was no one he could stay with.

That is, until he met Prota. She didn’t know any of his past. All she knew was that John was someone who accepted her while everyone else rejected her, someone who cared for her when she was broken and alone, and so she trusted him, and found that she liked him. John, with all his mysteries and secrets, was someone she could lean on.

However, she didn’t like seeing him sad. She may have been mature for her age but she was still a child with childlike instincts. She could tell John wasn’t happy, and so she wanted to cheer him up. She wanted to see him truly happy, not just the mask he put on around others.

“Tell me another story,” Prota had said around the three month mark.

“...huh?”

“A story,” she persisted. “Like the other one.”

“Ah,” John said, his eyes lighting up again as the small girl tugged at his shirt. “Hm… well, now’s a good time as any, right?”

They went outside, sitting on chairs as John completed the story of “The Start Before the Finish,” the story of a man named Grey who was thrown into another world, a man who became a baby and worked his way back to the top. As the sun went down, the stars came out to play, twinkling and lighting up the black sky, the universe putting on a show for just the two of them.

However, none of the stars shone as bright as John’s eyes as he told the story to the first person he could truly care for with no regrets.

And so while John had saved Prota from a terrible life, in a way, she, too, had saved him.