Yellow Jacket

Warren picked up his truncheon.

Four weeks, and he hadn't touched it, not since the crater, not since the storm bent around him like it had always known his name. But now his hand found it like it always had: silent, certain, necessary.

The metal was cool, weighted, real. It didn't ask questions. It just waited. And when his fingers closed around it, something clicked back into place.

He stood, slipping it into the loop on his belt. The coat followed, clean, repaired, but still his. Then he turned.

Wren was curled on their bed, tangled in a huge blanket that was somehow still too small to cover her chaos. One leg had kicked out. Her arm sprawled across where he'd been.

He crouched beside her.

"Wren," he said softly, touching her shoulder.

She blinked awake, groggy, not startled. That was new.

"What?" she rasped, voice thick from sleep.

"You need to see something," Warren said.

She sat up slowly, rubbing at her face, then noticed his expression. Serious. Focused. He wasn't holding a weapon. He was holding something heavier.

She blinked awake, groggy. "What?"

Warren sat cross-legged on the floor beside her and held out the fragment. "Take it," he said. "It's from the Behemoth. Its a great skill but it fits you better."

She looked at it warily. "What does it do?"

He tilted his head. "Give me a second." He focused, activated Examine.

[Examine]

Type: Fragment

Modification History: Adaptive Layer Present

Embedded Skill: Blood mending

Origin: Unknown

Notes: Healing activation triggers visible bioelectric threadwork along dermal surface. Moderate regeneration speed. Blood control still active while external allowing for third party application. Passive effect includes altered blood chemistry. Draws from stamina and blood volume. Risk of fatigue or blackout with sustained use.

Warren lowered his hand. "You can use it to heal yourself. If you get wounded, you can activate it and your own blood will work like a med strip. Also, if you apply it to someone else, it works too. It stitches flesh, even bone if you stay with it long enough."

Wren stared at him. "Why would you give me this?"

Then, more quietly: "Why not use it yourself?"

He shrugged. "Sure, it would make me a better killer. I'd be harder to drop. But in your hands? It changes the world."

"What does that mean?"

"It means you're the beat of my heart," Warren said, voice quiet but unshaken. "And if you fall, I would burn down the world to get you back. The world's safer when you're in it. And this... it fits you."

Wren's voice broke. "Warren, we never talked about what happened with Lucas..."

"No. Because it doesn't matter."

He met her eyes. Steady. "You did what you had to. And I'm glad you did. You made the hard choice and you're still beating because of it. I know what he would've done if you fought."

He nodded once. "Sometimes you make the hard choice. It's the only one."

She sat down then. Not collapsed, just... let go.

There was a long pause. Then Wren spoke, and her voice was rough, not from anger, but from something older, something that had tried to rot quiet in her chest for too long.

He met her eyes. No judgment. No pity. Just clarity.

"Azolde," he said. Her real name. "I understand."

"And you still gave me this," she said, holding the fragment tight in her hand.

Warren looked at her. "It doesn't matter what they made you do. All that matters is who you are."

Wren clenched the fragment against her chest and sobbed, loud, shaking, ugly. Then she let the System take it.

It disappeared like a breath. The a glow behind her eyes flared. And then it was part of her.

A new kind of quiet followed.

Wren flexed her fingers. Static arced across her knuckle. Her blood pulsed blue for a moment, then faded.

"What was that?" she asked, but she already knew.

Warren didn't answer right away.

She looked at him, then shook her head slowly. "You still have a slot open. You could've taken it yourself. It would've made you safe."

He didn't flinch. Just looked at her.

"It would've made me safe," he said, "if my heart was protected, and could heal the people she cares about."

That stopped her cold.

Wren blinked. "Warren..."

But he wasn't finished. "I survive because I know how to move. I win because I know how to kill. But you...." He stepped closer, voice low. "You change what survival looks like for the people you meet. That matters more."

She swallowed hard. "You should've taken it anyway."

"I did," he said quietly. "I just gave it a better home."

Warren glanced toward the hallway and murmured, "We need to talk to everyone. Could you help me gather them?"

Wren blinked sleep from her eyes and nodded. "What should I tell them it's about?"

"We've got a few things to cover. I'd rather wait till we're all together,it'll be faster."

She nodded again and stood.

Warren moved through the pharmacy quietly, grabbing Grix and Florence. Deana followed too,clearly not invited, but somehow impossible to shake.

Wren found Car and Calra, who had been working near the water wheel.

They all converged in Warren's workspace near the nanoforge. It was quiet there,off, but secure. Thick walls. Reinforced doors. It was Warren's domain.

Styll padded in first, blinking blearily before curling around Warren's leg and sending a pulse of affection through their bond,warmth and safety, wordless but sharp.

Warren sighed.

Then Gunner leapt onto his shoulder. Whisper and Wires followed, one on his back, one perching atop his head like a crown. Bastard arrived with his usual sullen grace, hopping up into Warren's arms before anyone else could try. And the chonky one, the unnamed chunkernaut, was circling his feet, clearly trying to muscle into prime lap territory.

Warren stood there like a human cat tower, mouth pressed into a tight line, eyes silently pleading for help.

That was when Wren, Car, and Calra entered.

Wren stopped in her tracks. "I still can't believe your Skill isn't cats. Like, what the hell is it with you and cats?"

"I don't know," Warren said, voice half-broken under the weight of fur, claws, and his own unraveling dignity. "Please. I am begging you. Someone help me."

Deana stepped forward.

The cats turned as one. Their eyes narrowed. Whisper hissed. Bastard growled low and sharp.

Deana froze and stepped back without another word.

Car, trying to suppress a smirk, stepped in. The cats scattered,except Bastard, who allowed himself to be picked up like it was a punishment.

Florence raised an eyebrow. "Looks like you and him are friends now."

Car was about to reply,until Bastard looked up at him. That single, slitted-eyed glare said it all: Speak and I leave.

Car closed his mouth.

Calra, watching all this, crossed her arms. "What the hell is with these cats? They're scarier than he is," she said, jabbing a thumb toward Warren.

Grix folded her arms and said ominously, "Ohh, what if his Skill evolves to be waves of cats instead of just... waves?"

Warren didn't even look up. "Please, dear gods, your humble servant asks you to smite me where I stand if that is what my Skill will become."

Grix, Calra, Wren, Florence,and even Car, burst out laughing.

Deana, ever the zealot, didn't laugh. She just stared at Warren with wide, shining eyes... and wrote that line into her heart.

The meeting was about to begin.

Warren glanced around the room, then cleared his throat. "Before we get into the deeper stuff, I need an update. How are caravan preparations going?"

Car nodded and shifted his stance. "You already know most of it, but just to make sure everyone's on the same page... You're traveling with the Boneway clan's caravan to their main camp. From there, you'll move through the Glass Ocean. It's about three nights' worth of travel across difficult terrain, maybe more if weather hits hard."

He paused, making sure everyone was tracking.

"Once you're through the Glass Ocean, you'll meet the Harrow from the Cult of Iron. He'll be waiting at a lookout not far from the warlord's territory. According to what Wren and Calra have pieced together, it should be about ten days from the Cult to the fortress itself."

He scratched the back of his head. "Now, in terms of bodies, you'll be moving with twenty of our guards. We've got two mercenary companies, six people each. That's twelve. Then the eight former warlord troopers acting as scouts. And you lot."

He tilted his chin toward Deana. "Except her. Still don't know if we can trust her."

Wren stepped in calmly. "She's with us now. She understands her place."

Deana straightened, beaming. "My place is at your side, my lady, and my lord."

Warren groaned under his breath. "Please, please don't call me that. It's creepy. And the cats don't like it."

Deana stepped back immediately. "Yes, my God."

That was too much. Grix and Calra burst into wild laughter, holding their ribs, leaning into each other as they wheezed.

Car looked like he was trying not to choke on a grin. He cleared his throat, eyes dancing. "Anyway... that brings the headcount to forty-five. Not counting the clans you'll be traveling with."

Just then, Styll bit Car's ankle with perfect timing. Bastard leapt from his arms like the man had personally offended him. Car looked down in complete defeat.

Florence gave his shoulder a comforting pat. "Make that forty-seven."

She turned to Warren, more serious now. "I'll be working on that special project we discussed. Hopefully we'll have made some progress soon. I'd like to get at least that toy we were tinkering with into prototype stage."

Wren leaned forward. "Did you figure out anything from the Behemoth's corpse? Or the flickery one Warren killed?"

Florence's brow furrowed. "No. I'm honestly stumped. The construction is beyond anything I've seen in augmented design. It's less crafted and more... grown. Like something designed to imitate life, not just enhance it. The closest match was the tech Calra brought home, and even that, if what she says is true, was just a pale imitation."

Calra winced and raised a hand halfway. "Still sorry about that whole... trying-to-kill-you-all thing."

Florence waved her off. "Don't worry about it, dear. Wren explained everything."

Deana chimed in instantly. "My lady is most forgiving."

Grix scrunched her face. "Yeah, that's gonna be weird. Even for me. And I just ate a candied bug bar."

Everyone stopped.

Wren blinked. "You what???"

"What? I was hungry," Grix mumbled defensively. "And I thought if it was sweet, maybe it wouldn't taste like sadness."

Florence's voice dropped to a dangerous calm. "Grixalia. How did you candy it?"

Grix began backing toward the door. "Uhh... don't worry about it."

Florence took a slow step forward. "Grixalia. If I find out you used my preservers to make that filth, you are not getting dinner."

Everyone in the room winced like they'd heard a weapon drawn.

Grix lifted her hands. "Okay, okay, my bad."

Florence smiled too sweetly. "Everyone, I'm making a cake tonight."

Grix froze. "Wait. Why do you sound like that?"

Florence didn't answer. Her smile only grew. "Grixalia. I need your secret honey stash if you want to even look at that cake."

Grix gasped. "What? Who ratted me out?!"

Calra raised an eyebrow. "You told everyone. You even told the cats."

Grix looked down, defeated. "Oh fine. But I demand extra."

Florence turned away, already victorious.

The group settled then, tension easing into laughter and side-glances. The storm hadn't come yet. But it would. And they'd face it together.

Warren looked over the group, then exhaled slowly. "There's something else. I hit the first threshold. I've met the requirements."

That quieted everyone.

He continued, "The System's been flickering this prompt in my vision for days. Says: 'Please pick two skills to become the basis for your class advancement list. If you do not pick in 2 days, 17 minutes, and 32 seconds, two skills will be chosen at random, and a random class will be assigned. This choice is final and cannot be undone.'"

He looked around the group. "So before you weigh in, here's what I've got to pick from:

This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

Examine (Active): Close, high-detail inspection of objects, structure, origin, wear patterns, potential uses. Doesn't reveal hidden properties, but it gets damn close.

Scavenger's Eye (Passive): Pattern recognition. My brain just... sees things others miss. Out-of-place objects, salvage hidden in wreckage, traps even. It's the reason we've found half the things we have.

Quick Reflexes (Passive): Instinct-level twitch responses. I move before I think. I've dodged lance fire and blows I didn't see coming, because my body already moved.

Crafting (Active): System overlay guides me through how to break down and rebuild anything, stress points, component matches, salvage conversion. Real-time fabrication.

Flicker Steps (Active): Short-range movement, line of sight only. Breaks me down into nanite mist and rebuilds me. It's fast, disorienting, and brutal if timed right. Not silent, not subtle, but it gets me in or out."

He let it sit there. "That's the pool. Now tell me what you think."

Florence sat up straighter. Grix whistled.

Warren nodded. "So, I'd like to hear your thoughts."

Grix was the first to speak. "I just let mine time out. Best not-choice I ever made. The System dumped something on me that fit better than I would've guessed."

Calra shrugged. "The warlord's troops power-leveled me. By the time I hit my choice window, there were too many variables. I froze. Next thing I knew, I was a Thread Maiden. Still wish I could go back... but it's not a bad class."

Florence leaned forward. "They're all going to be good classes, Warren. But some decisions? You shouldn't let them be assigned. This one's yours."

Warren gave her a slow nod. "Choice is power. And power is everything."

Then, surprisingly, it was Deana who spoke with clarity.

"Flicker Step and Scavenger's Eye," she said. "One makes you impossible to catch. The other makes you impossible to fool. Together, they'd make a path none of us can follow, but all of us could survive behind."

Even Florence tilted her head at that.

Wren smiled. "Go with your heart."

Car crossed his arms. "Quick Reflexes and Flicker Step. You'd be a god of war. I've seen you move, and that combo would be savage."

Florence shook her head. "I'd take Crafting and Examine. Long term, those have the most potential. They build solutions, not just reactions."

Grix kicked her boots up. "Scavenger's Eye and Quick Reflexes. Passives. No fuss. You don't need to think, they just work."

Calra tapped the table. "Examine and Scavenger's Eye. Being able to gather information faster and more completely, especially in combat prep, would shift any engagement in your favor."

Warren looked down at Styll. his wonderful girl was curled at his feet, looking up with silent affection.

"What do you think?" he asked.

The bond sent back a flood of warmth. Love. Safety. Belief.

He scratched between her ears.

Grix threw her hands up. "I still say Quick Reflexes would've been smarter. You wouldn't even have to think. Just react, move, survive."

Deana shook her head. "But that's not leadership. That's just instinct. The Eye and the Steps together? That's vision and execution. That's purpose."

"Oh please," Grix scoffed, arms crossing. "You don't even know what those skills feel like in the field. You read about them like scriptures and forget this is about killing things that can kill back."

Deana stood a little straighter, not rising to anger, but not shrinking either. "I have seen God's will done. Do you not remember? I was there when he rose above the rot. I may have been on the other side, but I have seen the waves he leaves in his wake. He's not fighting for survival, he's carving a path for all to follow."

Grix stepped forward. "You want a path? Pick the combo that keeps him alive. You know what happens if he dies?"

Calra raised a hand. "We all know what happens if he dies, Grix." Her eyes narrowed toward Deana. "But I don't agree with her reasoning. Scavenger's Eye is important, yes, but pairing it with Flicker Steps is a mistake. Reflexes are what keep people alive in real-time, not future planning. I've fought alongside troops who could outthink a god, but they still died because they didn't move fast enough."

Deana didn't hesitate. "And he's the one who put them down like they were playthings. Nothing more."

Warren grimaced. The god talk again, it was more than he wanted to hear right now.

"No," Grix said, jabbing a thumb toward Deana, "You doesn't just don't get it do you. You thinks it's destiny or fated walks or sacred bloodlines or some bullshit like that. This is about tactics. If I had to bet my life on it, I'd pick the build that doesn't ask him to think, just lets his body save him."

"I've seen him think," Deana said softly. "It's the only reason that anyone survived that night."

"Ladies," Florence muttered, "we are a few decibels from needing a fire team to keep the peace."

Wren stepped forward before it got worse. "Enough."

She looked at both of them. "Grix, I get it. We need him alive. And fast reflexes are part of that. But Deana's not wrong either. Flicker Steps gets him out . Scavenger's Eye keeps him three steps ahead of everyone else. Together? Can you even imagine that."

Calra frowned. "Wren..."

Wren turned to her. "I know. It sounds like I'm siding with her. But I'm not. I'm siding with the version of Warren who doesn't just make it through this war, he builds something after. We don't need a god of war. We need the one who sees the storm coming and leads us through it."

Calra's jaw tensed, hurt flickering in her expression. She folded her arms. "I didn't expect you to take her side," she muttered.

Wren stepped closer. "I'm not. Not really. But Deana isn't wrong about what Warren does. He's not just surviving out there, he's navigating the future. That's more than tactics. It's purpose."

Calra's expression faltered again, caught somewhere between betrayal and understanding.

"I just..." she said. "We've all made choices we can't undo."

Wren nodded. "And I respect that. But if he picks wrong, he doesn't get to live with it. None of us do."

Calra exhaled. "Okay. I hear you."

Warren looked between them, then down at Styll. She flicked her tail and sent him warmth again. Reassurance. No answers ,just trust.

Florence tapped her chin. "Still think Crafting and Examine would give you the longest tail on your impact. And I know how much you love to build, Warren. But this just isn't the time. I get that. Right now, you're not planning for peace, you're going to war."

Car leaned forward, resting his elbow on the table. "Let's be real. He could pick Flicker and Reflexes, and yeah, sure, he'd be a storm, fast, deadly, all that dramatic stuff. But Flicker and Eye? That turns him into some sort of cryptid. He'll vanish into fog, show up behind locked doors with a bag of loot, and somehow still judge us for not finding the hidden panel in a solid concrete wall."

Deana smiled, quiet but firm.

Grix just threw her hands up again. "Fine. But if he gets stabbed while he's thinking about terrain markers, I'm not the one carrying his body."

"Noted," Warren muttered.

Florence smirked. "We all know you'd try and fail. He's heavier than he looks."

"I'm wiry," Warren said flatly.

"You're dense," Wren corrected, grinning.

That finally broke the last bit of tension. Even Calra smiled.

Car chuckled, shaking his head. "Honestly, I'm just glad you're not picking at random. We don't need a system accident when you're walking into hell."

Warren nodded. "I wasn't going to. But... hearing all this? It helped. I needed to know what you all saw."

Grix snorted. "We all see different things. Doesn't make any of us wrong. Just... chaotic."

Warren looked at her. "That's why I asked. Chaos or not, I trust every one of you. Even if you make weird bug bar candy."

Car muttered, "Bug bars are gross, and even candied it still somehow tasted like sorrow."

Warren hesitated no longer.

And the System accepted his choice.

The world stopped moving.

One second, Warren stood among friends, their voices still echoing in his ears. The next, stillness. No sound. No motion. The room held in a breath it never let go.

A pulse of light flickered across his vision.

SYSTEM UPLINK: CLASS PATH EXPANSION DETECTED

Skill Pair Fusion Confirmed:
FLICKER STEPS (Active)
SCAVENGER'S EYE (Passive)

Tier 1 Evolution Tier Unlocked.
Class stat progression adjusted.

Current Evolution Bonus: +2 per core attribute per level
Attributes determined by application pattern and internal resonance.

Six compatible class frameworks identified:

GHOSTKNIFE — Infiltration. Disruption. Velocity.

Attribute Focus
Dexterity, Resolve, Perception

Per Level Bonus
+2 Dexterity, +2 Resolve, +2 Perception

Description:
Ghostknives don't breach, they appear. This class specializes in high-speed infiltration and surgical takedowns, weaving between threats with terrifying efficiency. Disorient your enemies, carve through their formations, and vanish before their senses recalibrate. Every step is misdirection. Every movement is a kill-line. The Ghostknife doesn't warn, it cuts.

Active Skill:
Fracture Blink – Flickers through targets, bypassing direct resistance while triggering brief sensory disorientation. Neural strain increases with rapid repetition.

Passive Skill:
Veil Vision – Reveals heat signatures within a 3-meter radius, even through low-grade barriers.

STATIC HUNTER — Interference. Assault. Relentlessness.

Attribute Focus
Strength, Resolve, Endurance

Per Level Bonus
+2 Strength, +2 Resolve, +2 Endurance

Description:
Static Hunters are siege-breakers and counter-tech bruisers, moving through interference like predators through fog. Designed for signal warfare and aggressive disruption, they distort enemy senses, overwrite engagement plans, and press forward with brutal certainty. Expect nothing subtle. Only results.

Active Skill:
Stagger Blink – Disorients enemies with a pulse of static energy upon flicker movement. May induce vertigo or temporary targeting errors.

Passive Skill:
Taglock Trace – Implants a trace on targets via contact or line-of-sight, allowing tracking through most terrain or obstruction.

MIST WRAITH — Obfuscation. Extraction. Vanishing Paths.

Attribute Focus
Dexterity, Perception, Resolve

Per Level Bonus
+2 Dexterity, +2 Perception, +2 Resolve

Description:
Mist Wraiths are terrain phantoms: escape artists, recon runners, and disappearances given form. Built for maneuvering through chaos and dissolving into the cracks between visibility, they control enemy perception and slip through unseen paths. When things fall apart, the Wraith walks free.

Active Skill:
Mist Cut – Obscures movement trail and severs visual tracking lines for several seconds. Most effective in low-visibility conditions.

Passive Skill:
Blindspot Filter – Highlights blind zones in enemy vision or audio patterns, granting advanced warning and safe traversal paths.

EDGE PHANTOM — Velocity. Precision. Blade Momentum.

Attribute Focus
Dexterity, Perception, Intelligence

Per Level Bonus
+2 Dexterity, +2 Perception, +2 Intelligence

Description:
Edge Phantoms are fast-forward killers, bleeding motion and edgework into one lethal style. They turn flicker steps into blade-first entries and ride the blur into vulnerability. Built for speed-aggression and rapid strikes, their presence is sharp and short-lived. Like a cut, they are only seen after it's too late.

Active Skill:
Cut Flicker – Flicker movement initiates with a sweeping blade strike. Causes motion lag after use.

Passive Skill:
Peripheral Glint – Automatically detects movement flashes and edge reflections, improving reaction time against fast opponents.

DRIFT WALKER — Memory. Silence. Unseen Travel.

Attribute Focus
Resolve, Intelligence, Dexterity

Per Level Bonus
+2 Resolve, +2 Intelligence, +2 Dexterity

Description:
Drift walkers flow through contested zones like water through cracks. They don't break lines, they rewire them. Each step taken is quiet, deliberate, and remembered. Built for situational evasion and data retention, Drift walkers use their surroundings and their memory as weapons, walking ghosted paths others never see.

Active Skill:
Soft Flicker – Executes a silent, trail-less flicker step.

Passive Skill:
Echo Vision – Records short visual motion trails and replays them, offering enhanced situational recall and threat prediction.

PHANTOM THREAD — Control. Stillness. Pressure.

Attribute Focus
Perception, Resolve, Dexterity

Per Level Bonus
+2 Perception, +2 Resolve, +2 Dexterity

Description:
Phantom Threads operate in the gaps between attention, whispers in combat, pressure without contact. They manipulate sound, posture, and threat presence to unnerve and unmake. Every silence is a trap. Every step is deliberate. You don't see a Phantom Thread coming: you feel the absence they leave behind.

Active Skill:
Silent Stitch – Instantly resets posture, breath rhythm, and noise profile. Cannot activate under stress or panic.

Passive Skill:
Thread Sense – Identifies acoustically neutral areas in the environment, enabling silent repositioning or ambush setup.

Please select one.
This decision is final.
No input detected. Awaiting user decision.

Warren tried to speak. Nothing came out.

He strained to turn his head toward Wren. Nothing. It was like his spine had been replaced with stone. Even the bond, his constant tether to Styll, was unreachable. He reached for it in his mind, but the moment he tried, it was like slamming into a glass wall. Not broken. Not damaged. Just... sealed.

Florence stood mid-blink. Car's smirk hung frozen. Even the cats seemed caught in the breath between moments, their tails half-curled, their eyes wide.

Time wasn't stopped. He was simply no longer inside it.

He couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. Only observe. Only decide.

The System waited.

He began scanning the options, one by one.

Ghostknife. Fast. Surgical. Lethal. The kind of class built for execution. But it was too clean. Too sharp. Warren didn't do clean. His violence was quiet, not clinical. Ghostknife made him into a blade. He never liked blades to fragile and not always the best tool for the job.

Static Hunter. Brutal. Heavy. Meant for breaking sieges and scattering electronics. He could see the appeal. Forward pressure and punishment. But it demanded too much attention. It wasn't elegant. It was loud and proud and battering. And he wasn't built to shout.

Mist Wraith. He lingered there for a long moment. Vanishing paths. Obscuring trails. It felt close. Like something that nearly fit. But it wasn't just about escaping. Warren didn't want to disappear. He wanted to move with purpose. Mist Wraith blurred the world, but Warren didn't want blur, he wanted control.

Edge Phantom. Blade aggression wrapped around movement. That sounded like something Grix would love. And maybe, in another time, Warren might have leaned into the edge. But it was too forward. Too much momentum. He didn't cut first. He observed. Predicted. Stalked.

Phantom Thread. A trap-maker. A whisperer. A controller of tension. He admired it. Feared it, maybe. Phantom Thread was performance, and Warren had performed before. He understood silence, pressure, the act of vanishing with meaning. But it was too situational. Too dependent on the enemy's attention. Warren didn't want to wait to be seen. He wanted to move whether or not eyes were on him. This class required others to respond. He wasn't here to provoke. He was here to end things.

And then there was Drift Walker.

Resolve. Intelligence. Dexterity.

He read the description again.

Low-signature movement. Memory recall. Paths left behind only when you wanted them.

It didn't make him faster. Didn't make him stronger. It made him right. Aligned. A presence in the space between.

That was what he wanted.

To see everything. To remember every step. To move through walls and fire and blood without ever being caught.

Warren exhaled, soft and final.

And selected Drift Walker.

The world surged forward again.

Far above the pharmacy, a wind shifted. The storm hadn't returned. Not yet. But the sky had started to remember it.

Warren Smith — Level 10

(Second threshold requirements not met)

Class: Drift Walker

Alignment: Aberrant

Unallocated Stat Points: 0

Attributes:

Strength: 11 (Determines raw physical output how much force one can exert in a single motion. Influences lifting capability, grip strength, leverage, and the ability to interact physically with the world on a foundational level. High Strength contributes to physical presence and intimidation.)

Perception: 16 (Governs environmental awareness and detail recognition. Influences the accuracy of observations, reaction timing, and the ability to notice anomalies or hidden patterns. Essential for tracking, anticipating motion, and sensing subtle changes in space.)

Intelligence: 22 (Measures cognitive processing power, learning speed, and abstract reasoning. Influences how quickly and efficiently one can understand systems, synthesize information, and solve complex problems. Affects memory capacity, logic formation, and adaptability in unfamiliar situations.)

Dexterity: 16 (Determines fine motor control, limb articulation, and precise bodily movement. Influences hand-eye coordination, sleight of hand, tool usage, and the ability to move through tight or unstable environments without disruption.)

Endurance: 11 (Measures sustained physical exertion capacity, breath control, and internal stabilization under stress. Influences postural integrity, long-term mobility, and the ability to maintain composure during physically taxing activity without immediate fatigue.)

Resolve: 19 (Governs internal discipline, clarity under pressure, and mental resistance to disorientation or external influence. Influences the ability to suppress panic, resist temptation, and commit to a task despite distraction or discomfort. A high Resolve reinforces identity against erosion.)

Skills at Level 10:

(New)Soft Flicker (Active):

A refined evolution of Flicker Steps. Allows the user to disperse into a controlled nanite mist and reconstitute nearby within visual range, without noise, shimmer, or static trail. Movement is no longer disruptive, no longer a visual stutter: it simply happens, like a blink that no one notices.
Requires direct line of sight, The reformation process has been stabilized, smoothed into seamless reintegration. There is no burst, no flash, no displacement wake, just a change in position, clean and surgical.

(New) Echo Vision (Passive):

An advanced extension of Scavenger's Eye. Retains the passive enhancement of visual pattern recognition and environmental scanning, sharpening Warren's ability to detect irregularities, hidden salvage, and useful out-of-place elements even in chaotic or cluttered terrain. His brain remains trained to catalog structural logic and deviation without conscious effort, every frame of vision filtered, indexed, and weighed.
But now, Echo Vision does more.
It records short-term visual sequences in real time, leaving behind memory echoes that can be mentally replayed. Movements, layout shifts, enemy paths, anything witnessed becomes retraceable, reviewable, and perfectly clear when needed most. Useful for backtracking, identifying inconsistencies, or remembering the exact placement of an item or threat that was seen for only a moment.

Examine (Active):

Allows close, precise inspection of physical items. Identifies structural materials, mechanical condition, origin markers, manufacturing details, and utility potential. Does not reveal hidden properties.

Quick Reflexes (Passive):

Improves startle-response timing and intramuscular coordination. Allows the body to instinctively respond to fast-changing movement or proximity without conscious input, evasive steps, and reflexive tensing when startled. Reflexes that fire before thought, clean, automatic, almost predictive. As if the body, when trained long enough, starts to anticipate motion before it registers. like instinct honed into something sharp.

Crafting (Active):

Activates a system-assisted overlay that highlights structural stress points, compatible materials, and assembly pathways in real time. Enhances focus and spatial awareness, allowing rapid assessment and execution of mechanical or structural tasks. Used to repurpose materials into tools, stabilizers, or functioning devices with heightened efficiency and minimal error.

Warren's Skill – Rain Dancer

Stage One

Core Effect – Phase Slip

Environmental moisture, rain, mist, blood, steam, no longer reacts to Warren. It aligns with him. He is not moving through the storm. He is the storm's chosen vector.

Water flows with him, not around him.

Raindrops spiral to his motion.

Mist forms his silhouette before he steps into it.

Visibility itself becomes distorted in his presence.

Passive – Micro-Evasion Boost

Every movement Warren makes is adjusted, not just spatially, but meteorologically.
Wind pressure shifts around his path. Microcurrents redirect trajectories.

Flechettes miss by millimeters.

Melee swings veer away as air density warps.

Objects moving toward him may deflect subtly, as though pushed by sudden wind shear.

To observers, it looks like supernatural instinct.
To the System, it's a behavior it cannot fully explain.

Attack Sync Effect – Kinetic Surge

When Warren strikes mid-motion, the environment becomes a weapon.

A swing of his truncheon may bring a concussive burst of pressure, water, or mist.

Rain compacts and detonates on impact.

Mist lashes like a coiled whip.

Droplets act as accelerants, increasing momentum and range.

His blows land with the violence of hurricanes.
His movement leaves behind impact craters, gouged stone, or collapsing structures, not from strength, but from the mass of motion given form.

Visual Signature

Rain doesn't fall, it follows.
Mist doesn't obscure, it shapes him.

Each movement trails spirals, rings, and pulses of moisture that react before contact.

Lightning sometimes arcs around him, not to strike, but to avoid him.

The storm bends toward him, not in service, but in recognition.

Growth Conditions:

Rain Dancer evolves through high-risk engagements in poor visibility conditions.

Rain, smoke, fog, blood mist, steam, any atmosphere with distortion potential increases adaptation.

Direct kills made immediately following an evasion spike increase psychological effect range.

The more he endures, the more the storm learns him.

Known Limitations:

Less effective in arid, dry, or open-sky environments.

More moisture decreases its limitations.