Lucious rested his back against the wall, biting into what felt like plywood. After the grinding of teeth, however, Lucious admitted that it was, after all, just another piece of bread.

It’s been a few days since the First Phase had begun, and it had only been getting worse outside.

With the end of the Ghoul’s onslaught began the human’s own genocides. The political rivals, of whom Lucious knew little of, had taken full advantage of the God’s meddling in human affairs, and had somehow incited a riot.

Wisely, Lucious had given that storm wide breath. He had found himself a vacant room in an obscure part of the town and holed himself in it.

Unfortunately, his supplies were dwindling by the bite.

With annoyance, Lucious studies his Status Screen one last time.

Oddly enough, he’d grown fond of the thing. Staying in a small room as chaos ensued outside allowed little else to weigh on Lucious’s mind.

Most of it was guesswork, but Lucious had to begin with something, and something this was.

The Blue Screens was a communication, of a sort. It was one of the many Gods ways to grant boons, and to communicate these boons, without actually doing so on their own time.

There was one central issue regarding this discourse, though; no God was capable of such a feat. Not even the Death Lord or the Earth Mother could establish such a widespread influence directly.

They could bring destruction upon this world, yes, but even if every other mischievous God allowed that to happen, it would still not be done directly.

Molding the mortal realm took more than that, Lucious had learned. It was evident throughout history, in their symbols, and in their champions.

What's the point of subtlety and deception, if not it’s a necessity?

Thus Lucious assumed the worst has occurred, something that occurs every so century; the Gods had actually aligned themselves behind a singular goal.

That was freighting. The only thing which stopped the Gods from obliterating life from this planet, was the presence of other Gods, of which they desired to obliterate this planet.

...Or so history foretold.

Regardless of speculation though, one that was clear. A few things actually: Lucious had become stronger, and Lucious could become even stronger.

Such thoughts, however, brought great discomfort to Lucious, for becoming stronger was not the same as surviving.

And Lucious wanted to survive.

There will always be someone stronger than him.

His granted powers agreed with him. His Paths, which Lucious assumed originated from his actions, were all sad and lowly. War Child? Omniscient Deserter? Knife And Fork?!

They were the Paths of the tortured, of the abused and the meek, and that last one was just plain humiliating. “Fear the mighty fork of doom!” the flavor text had said. Whichever God was in charge of creating this System, he had a grim source of humor.

Fits me perfectly, Lucious nodded to himself. The question, however, was what to spend his 20 A points, and 39 B points. A stood for achievement, B stood for Battle. Both were self-explanatory, and it seemed that this was the only way in which Lucious could alter his growth.

The only Path which held promise, was The Unkillable. In addition to the impressive title, It had an ® next to it, which Lucious presumed it stood for Rare. How he had come to that conclusion, Lucious did not know.

He was missing 5 A points, however, and was not sure whether increasing his current chances of survival would be a smarter choice than saving it for the future.

But then again, there was no point in saving anything when you're dead, so at last, he’d inputted 5 A points, and 10 B points into War Child. It was of a common rarity, but it should be a good test.

Perk Gained: Born For War ©

Just how cringy will you become? Have the Gods no imagination in shaping you?

10% Increase In Effectiveness and Growth of War Skills.

Not bad, ignoring the flavor text. Though what qualified as War Skills? In a way, Lucious could argue that looking the most handsome person on the field will induce rage in his enemies, and thus cloud their minds with sadistic thoughts towards his irresistibly cute face.

Far stretched? Yes, but the point remained.

As an opposite entity of a law-bidding fool, Lucious could see many loop-holes and blank spots he could take advantage of, yet strangely, Lucious didn’t seem too eager to try and cheat the Gods.

Having gained a perk, Lucious realized the answer to an odd observation he'd had before. The math does not add up. He should have more than 20 A points, at the very least, yet it halted on 20.

Gaining a Perk from a Path had somewhat explained that. During the course of that long-winded battles, he’d gained points for nearly every Kill, their amount depending on the opponent and style. The greater the risks, the greater the rewards-- probably. It fit how the Gods operated.

As diabolical as they were, there was logic and a hint of fairness in their devastation.

It seemed that in some occurrences, instead of points, Lucious received a perk. Or, after he gained points, they were combined at some point to create a Perk, or in the case of The Undying and Knife And Fork, the advancement of it.

Lucious had plenty of theories to discuss within the comforts of his narrow mind, but for now, he had closed his Status Screen. Quickly throwing a couple layers upon his body, Lucious exited the room, the coolness of his steel knifes rubbing inside a newly acquired jacket. He was glad to get rid of that embarrassing thing. He hid it in the room, for future transactions.

He checked his HP one last time, its bar hovering at 98 out of a 143. What amazing progress.

Lucious paused in his tracks. How did he know what his HP was, if he did not even pull out his Status Screen?

A shiver went down his spine. Was he becoming less human?

Memories of his parents reminded him the consequences of that.

Shaking his head, Lucious exited the room.

The smell of rot slapped him in the face. Nearly gagging, he stepped over the bodies. The flies already begin to feast on their flesh.

Lucious shrugged. That was the price of leaving them there as the warning for the next foolish lad who would attempt to force his way in.