My eyes shot open, and I sucked in a sharp breath that felt like I'd been dunked in ice water. Ferris jerked backward, his alien features shifting into an expression that looked like surprise. Cassie looked up from a thick book with a bemused smile that suggested she'd been expecting something like this.

  "Whoa," I muttered, blinking hard and looking around the room.

  Everything looked like I was seeing it through a double exposure—my regular vision overlaid with something that made the world shimmer with strange, soft filters. The walls seemed to hum with barely contained energy, the ambient lights burned just a little too bright, and something deep in my mind felt hollow and depleted. Like a low-fuel warning light had just flickered on in my brain.

  Cassie had moved to the chaise lounge while I was under, her thick book sprawled across her lap, but Felix was nowhere to be seen.

  "You're back," Ferris said, studying me with what I was beginning to recognize as his particular blend of curiosity and approval. "You appear to have grasped considerably more than expected. It shows in your eyes."

  "Uh, thanks," I said, though I wasn't entirely sure what I was being thanked for.

  As I sat up, movement on my skin caught my attention. Faint, thread-like patterns traced along my hands and arms—an iridescent blue network that pulsed gently beneath the surface like bioluminescent veins. The threads felt alive somehow, warm and electric against my skin. I couldn't see anything similar on Ferris or Cassie, and wasn’t even sure I was seeing them on myself. Instead, it was like something was overlaying these threads onto my body, and my eyes were only half seeing it.

  "This is... wild," I muttered, watching the threads pulse in perfect rhythm with my heartbeat. They glowed just a fraction brighter with every breath, and it was nearly impossible to resist staring at the hypnotic pattern.

  "Ah, a successful initiation," Ferris observed, his long fingers steepled thoughtfully. He nodded with what looked like genuine respect. "Your soul is quite willing to assist you, Ben. Many do not enjoy that luxury."

  Thinking back to the surreal experience with Ted, it hadn't felt like I'd needed to do much convincing. That strange, beer-drinking spirit guide had been more than happy to help—hell, he'd told me I was my own soul, which didn't really track with what I'd been learning from everyone else on Ark.

  I looked down at my hands again, watching the blue threads dance beneath my skin. Something familiar and raw stirred inside me, like I'd just been handed the keys to a car I'd always known how to drive but had never been allowed to touch.

  "My soul," I echoed, the words barely more than a whisper. I felt like I had accessed some powerful secret, a missing part of myself. And somehow... it made perfect sense. The logical, scientific part of my brain wanted to dissect and analyze this new reality, but something deeper dared me to just accept it and see what happened.

  Probably Bravery.

  Cassie grinned and moved to sit beside Ferris, gesturing toward the magic end table with a blue coin.

  "Alright, time to look like an idiot," I said, rolling my eyes.

  The coin buzzed faintly with mana as I picked it up, vibrating against my palm like a tuning fork made of pure energy. Every fiber of my being suddenly wanted to absorb it, draw it into myself like I'd just found water after days in the desert. Fighting that instinct, I kept my focus on the coin and placed it carefully onto the end table, mimicking Cassie's earlier demonstration.

  The coin settled in the center with a soft clink, and suddenly I could see a ring of faintly glowing runes circling around it—symbols that definitely hadn't been visible before my little soul journey. The air around the table shimmered with potential energy.

  A static pull shot through my arm like I'd just grabbed a live wire, tugging power straight from deep inside. In my mind, I focused on iced tea—something cold and refreshing after all this magical exertion.

  "Who drinks iced tea? Get you some of this IPA!

  Was that—?

  Fire shot up my arm before I could finish the thought. I yelped and collapsed backward onto the couch as electricity seemed to race through every nerve ending. The sensation was like being struck by lightning while sticking my finger in an electrical socket—my entire body buzzing painfully as I flopped down in a stunned daze.

  "What the fuck, Ben!" Cassie's voice cut through the ringing in my ears as she scrambled over, grabbing my shoulders just as my stiff body slid off the couch. I couldn't feel my limbs properly—everything tingled like they'd all fallen asleep simultaneously.

  "Ow..." I croaked, tilting my head toward the table despite the lingering electrical aftershocks.

  There, sitting primly on the end table where my coin had been, was a foaming pint glass filled with dark amber liquid. Complete with a bright red bendy straw and the unmistakable hoppy aroma of what smelled like a seriously strong IPA.

  "I wanted iced tea," I muttered weakly.

  But even as I said it, I knew that beer was exactly what some part of me—the Ted part, apparently—actually wanted.

  Cassie picked up the glass and sniffed it cautiously. "This thing can make beer?" She asked, shooting a questioning look at Ferris, who offered a shrug.

  My head thudded back against the couch as I closed my eyes with a groan. "I'm not sure I like my soul."

  "Fascinating. This is excellent craftsmanship. Is this ale?" Ferris asked, taking a delicate sip through the red straw with surprising grace for someone with an exoskeleton.

  "You know how to make beer?" Cassie asked, and the gleam in her eyes could only mean trouble.

  "Yeah... That one's called a pale ale. Pretty straightforward to brew," I groaned, gesturing weakly toward the end table that had somehow conjured liquid perfection from a coin. "What the hell is that thing? I just had a wandering thought, and it materialized alcohol."

  "That is a Runic Compositor," Ferris explained, his tone taking on an almost reverent quality. "A recent innovation in techno-magic. It gathers ingredients stored elsewhere and manifests them in their final form based on your intent. The more complex the creation, the more mana it demands. That beer nearly killed you, which shows exceptional quality."

  I blinked, my brain still catching up while Cassie took a long, appreciative swig from the glass.

  "Damn, Ben, this could actually get Chas drunk," she said with genuine admiration. "Definitely worth nearly dying for. Wanna try again?"

  She drained the glass in one go and belched loudly enough to rattle the ambient music.

  "Absolutely not," I said, laughing despite the lingering tingling in my extremities. "Get me some barley malt and hops, and I'll teach you how to make it the normal way."

  Cassie's eyes lit up like I'd just offered her the secrets of the universe. "Seriously?"

  I shrugged, unable to suppress a grin at her enthusiasm.

  Ferris gave a respectful nod and, surprisingly, switched to what sounded like fluent Eloquentia. "

  I squinted, catching a word that seemed distinctly off. "Did you mean

  Ferris's features shifted into what I was learning to recognize as his version of a smile. "

  Cassie's gaze ping-ponged between us, her patience clearly wearing thin. "Guys? Same language, please?"

  This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  "Sorry, Cassie," I said, then turned back to Ferris. "We have some similar concepts where I come from, I think."

  Ferris's jaw plates clicked thoughtfully—apparently his version of stroking his chin. "Remarkably, a world with no mana, yet still the soul is cultivated? This is invaluable information." He straightened, his demeanor shifting to something more formal. "Please, Felix promised me payment, but let me return it—this humble scholar must balance this exchange properly. Karma must remain light."

  "It's mostly just from stories and philosophy," I said, but Ferris raised a hand to stop me.

  "No more, please," he said quickly, almost urgently. "Curiosity can wait. I would rather consult my Collective to ensure this transaction remains in proper balance."

  I nodded, understanding that this was clearly part of his culture—the idea that even shared knowledge carried weight and value that needed to be accounted for.

  "Understood," I said as he handed me another mana pearl, its surface warm against my palm.

  "Amituofo, Ben," Ferris said, offering a slight bow before heading for the door.

  "What the hell was that all about?" Cassie asked, raising an eyebrow as the Sentarian disappeared into the hallway.

  "I think our cultures might share a few philosophical concepts," I said with a shrug. "Hey, where's Felix? And... what time is it?"

  Cassie smacked my arm. Hard.

  "Ow! Are you serious?" I protested, rubbing the rapidly forming sore spot. "The hitting has to stop being a thing."

  "You're going to spill more details about this culture stuff," she said, jabbing a finger at me like an accusation. "I don't like not knowing things."

  "I think we might have similar religious traditions," I said, following her toward the hallway as the door behind us faded seamlessly into the wall. "Or something like that. Hard to say without more information."

  "That's weird, right?" Cassie said, her brow furrowed.

  "Very," I replied.

  "I'm not even going to pretend I want to dig into that right now," Cassie said, heading down the corridor at her usual brisk pace. "Felix had some kind of epiphany and went to talk to his mom. So it's just you and me. Oh, and I believe there's a bakery waiting for you—we were in there for eight hours."

  "Eight hours?" I echoed, stopping dead in my tracks. "That's not possible. I don't feel like it's been that long. I'm not even hungry. Eight hours? Really?"

  My stomach chose that exact moment to emit a growl loud enough to echo off the marble walls.

  Cassie smirked with the satisfaction of someone who'd just proven a point. "Uh-huh. So... bakery?"

  It was basically lunchtime, according to Cassie—though thirty-six-hour days were going to take some serious getting used to. My internal clock felt like it had been put through a blender.

  As we left the tower, she had me "experiment" with my mana, starting cautiously by shifting the energy to my hand, then my legs. I discovered that wherever I focused, the power was already there—ready and waiting like a faithful dog. It wasn't raw strength exactly, but something more refined, like channeling water through newly discovered pathways. I'd probably been doing this unconsciously, like breathing, and only now was I seeing it for what it actually was.

  "Alright, imagine punching a wall with your bare knuckles," Cassie said, grinning like the mental image of me attempting that was absolutely hilarious. "You'd probably shatter those dainty little fingers of yours. But with mana? Maybe you'd only bruise them. With more practice—and, I don't know, bigger hands..." She eyed me with obvious amusement. "You might actually break the wall instead."

  "My hands aren't dainty!" I protested, but Cassie was already outpacing me down the stairs, chuckling to herself.

  As we walked, I learned internal mana regenerated extremely slowly outside the tower's supercharged environment. The difference was like going from drinking from a fire hose to sipping through a cocktail straw.

  "That's why mana pearls and orbs are so valuable—they can be absorbed directly," Cassie explained as she approached a food cart run by a red-skinned Floran man who was grilling what looked like oversized turkey legs. The smell of charred meat and wood smoke filled the air. "Mana coins work in a pinch, but absorbing them is considered hugely wasteful. Towers are great for training or as a base of operations, but it's a big world out there. Two, please."

  She paid the vendor and handed me one of the steaming legs. "Here, eat this while we walk. At least, that's what Chas always says about the world thing."

  "Thanks," I said, taking an immediate bite and trying not to grimace. The meat was... aggressively bland. Like someone had actively tried to remove any flavor that might have accidentally snuck in. "Uh... do people not add spices to food here?"

  Cassie burst out laughing. "Oh, the food sucks, does it?"

  "Uh, kinda? But..." I stammered, not wanting to offend an entire culture's cuisine.

  "I'm screwing with you!" she interrupted, still grinning. "I don't know much about cooking, but a lot of trade goods were destroyed in the Carapax attack. The big one a month ago, not last night's little party. I think only one trade ship has made it to the island since then."

  "Speaking of which," I said, gesturing with my bland turkey leg, "does no one eat the Carapax? If they're anything like the crabs we have on Earth, people would pay serious money for them."

  Cassie's face twisted like I'd just suggested eating garbage. "Ugh, they're basically giant bugs. Why would you eat bugs when you have actual meat?"

  "Aren't they more like crustaceans?" I asked, but Cassie's glazed-over expression told me everything I needed to know about the local attitude toward marine biology. "Never mind."

  As we moved through the bustling courtyard, my eyes were drawn once again to the towering statue dominating the center—a man with spear and shield, captured in a moment of defiant victory. Something about his pose suggested he'd faced down impossible odds and somehow won. The craftsmanship was incredible, every detail rendered with the reverence usually reserved for gods.

  "Hey, is that the Gaius guy from the dome?" I asked.

  Cassie turned to me, with raised eyebrows conveying genuine respect. "Yeah, how did you know that? Don't tell me you guys know about him on Terra—sorry, Earth?"

  I laughed. "No, that would be even weirder than everything else. Elena told me about him when I face-planted staring at the dome."

  Cassie shrugged. "Still impressive. He's a legend—the Gaian Grandfather of Monster Hunters. He's the one who convinced the original three factions to unite against Ark's monster threat instead of fighting each other."

  "How'd he pull that off?"

  "Oh, he kicked their asses one by one until they teamed up to stop him," she said with obvious admiration. "And by then, they'd already made him their leader. Classic power move."

  "Is it just a legend?" I asked, and Cassie's expression grew thoughtful.

  "I don't think so. He's the one who taught the Hunters how to push past their limits and actually master runes. Showed everyone the key to becoming Adept—something that had been kept secret among the factions for centuries."

  "Which is?" I asked genuinely curious.

  "Not a fucking clue," Cassie replied with a chuckle. "Over my head."

  "Whoa, is that the Breaker?" someone called out from across the courtyard.

  Suddenly, a dozen heads turned our way, eyes wide with recognition and excitement. I could feel the weight of their collective stare like a physical pressure against my skin.

  Cassie didn't hesitate—she grabbed my arm with the efficiency of someone who'd clearly dealt with this before. "Run."

  We sprinted through the courtyard, dodging between vendor stalls and narrowly avoiding a Floran woman balancing a precarious tray of pastries. Behind us, I could hear a chorus of disappointed sighs.

  "I swear, everyone wants a piece of you," Cassie muttered as we rounded a corner, her breathing barely affected by the sprint. "Do I look like I enjoy crowds?"

  I pretended to consider this seriously. "I mean... bears are technically social animals?"

  She punched my shoulder hard enough to make me stumble. "Try me again. I'll show you how a bear really hugs."

  "Fucking ow! Please, Cassie, just let it heal," I yelped, and we both dissolved into laughter, continuing down the street like a couple of drunk idiots who'd just escaped from somewhere important.

  "So..." I said, still catching my breath, "you think Chas is at Gaius's level?"

  Cassie glanced at me with a look that burned with pure ambition. "Maybe, one day. I mean, he's strong as hell. But the stories about Gaius are completely wild." She paused, chewing her lip thoughtfully. "If I could reach that level..."

  "You think you will?"

  "Damn right, I do," she said with the confidence that made me believe her. "Felix might be the local prodigy, but I'm gonna be a Grand Master, like Nana. I'm not about to settle for second place to anyone."

  I remembered wanting to be a superhero when I was a kid—that burning desire to do something impossible and meaningful. Now, standing here with this strange energy flowing through my veins, I realized it might not be just a childhood dream anymore.

  "So can anybody just... learn to tear space and time apart?" I asked as we turned onto a new street lined entirely with shops. I was pretty sure I recognized one—a small storefront with a window full of sundries, though the glass had been shattered by last night's crab invasion. "How do you police that kind of power?"

  "I mean, probably not like Chas does it," she said, finally relaxing now that we were free from unwanted attention. "It takes an insane amount of training to get to his level. He's been fighting monsters since before I was born—and just trying to reach his level can kill you. It's not like monsters just sit there politely while you practice on them."

  "No, that's not what I mean," I said, trying to organize my thoughts. "What about war? What happens when two people like Chas or Gaius Valerian don't like each other? When gods fight gods?"

  "Oh!" Cassie's face lit up with understanding. "They’re not gods, but I get the idea. They kick each other's asses in tournaments and duels—mostly in controlled spirit realms like the jungle in the lobby. Keeps the collateral damage down." Her expression grew more serious. "But actual fights happen. There’re all sorts of war going on in the Central Lands, just not way out here. There are too many monsters for people to waste time fighting each other."

  "So, the Central Lands are really that dangerous? How far away are they?"

  Cassie shrugged. "They are, and it's a long way from here. Felix would probably know the exact distances—he's got that kind of brain."

  I sighed, feeling the weight of how much I still didn't understand about this world. "I really need a map. Or some books. Or basically any kind of reference material that explains how this place works."

  Cass's face lit up with genuine excitement. "Oh, if you're not in a rush to see Katie," she said, pointing back toward the damaged storefront I'd noticed, "we can look basically anything up on a viewing-table at Cyrus's. He's got access to archives from all over Ark."

  I stopped dead in my tracks and stared at her.

  "Wait, what?! Yes, absolutely sign me up!" I'm pretty sure my voice cracked with excitement, but I didn't care. After basically two days of stumbling around asking random questions—after finding out souls were real and mine apparently came with a beer-drinking Boston elf—the prospect of magical Google seemed absolutely vital to my continued sanity.

  "Finally," I muttered, already turning back toward Cyrus's shop with renewed energy. "Some actual answers."

  Cass grinned and fell into step beside me. “You get excited way too easily.”