The Shopping District hummed with early morning activity as I stepped through its threshold. My status display showed a satisfying 14,900 credits—proceeds from Shattered Peaks. The number glowed in my peripheral vision like a promise. No more minimal purchases. No more utility cutters and bargain-bin armor.
I scrolled through my mental checklist while navigating the crowded market lanes. The District was arranged in concentric circles, with shop quality increasing as you moved inward. Corporate-affiliated raiders with gleaming status badges pushed past in synchronized groups of four, their equipment matching in both functionality and aesthetic. The air carried a complex bouquet of industrial scents—lubricant, synthetic leather, ozone from energy weapons being tested, and the artificial vanilla fragrance pumped through ventilation systems to mask it all.
The high-tier equipment shops dominated the inner circle—pristine facades with shimmering energy barriers and guards whose posture suggested both combat training and enhanced musculature. Their window displays showcased armor pieces that seemed to absorb light rather than reflect it—signs of dimensional materials that didn't fully exist in our reality. Not for me. Not yet.
I headed toward the mid-range district where F-tier raiders with sufficient funds shopped. The buildings here had solid security systems rather than dimensional barriers, and the displayed equipment boasted practical functionality over aesthetic appeal. As I walked down the street, a storefront caught my eye: "Raider's Edge: Quality Equipment, Reasonable Prices." The reinforced display cases showcased armor sets with colorful durability ratings floating above each piece, holographic representations of the items' capabilities pulsing with each simulated impact.
"First big payday?" came a voice from inside the shop.
I turned to find a broad-shouldered woman with augmented eyes—hexagonal irises with microscopic focusing rings that shifted as she assessed my gear and status in one fluid scan. A retired raider, for sure—the fluid way she moved despite her size suggested high Force and Speed attributes, at least higher than mine, which wasn't saying much. A faded scar ran from her left temple to jaw, the kind that even regeneration therapy couldn't fully erase—a memento from something that had nearly killed her.
"Solo clear," I replied, letting a hint of pride color my voice. Solo clearances were uncommon enough to merit respect, especially for new raiders.
Her eyebrows rose fractionally, the augmented irises contracting as they recalibrated. "Impressive for your level. Looking for the full package then?"
I nodded. "I need something that won't restrict my mobility." The statement was deliberately understated—mobility wasn't just a preference but the cornerstone of my strategy.
She gestured to a private fitting area, a small alcove where dimensional scanners could take precise measurements for equipment calibration. "It's a common ask, and I have just the setup," she said, fingers dancing across an interface panel that materialized beside her. "Let's start with the basics and build from there."
Three hours later, I emerged from the shopping district with dramatically upgraded gear. The afternoon sun glinted off my new equipment, each piece a significant upgrade from the patchwork protection I'd cobbled together previously.
A form-fitting Resonance Mesh bodysuit replaced my tattered jacket—specialized F-tier armor designed with interwoven dimensional fibers that distributed impact force across its entire surface rather than concentrating it at the point of contact. The material hummed faintly against my skin, adaptive sensors constantly monitoring environmental conditions and adjusting protective properties accordingly. It offered a modest but reliable 10% damage reduction—not impressive compared to heavy armor, but perfect for my prioritization of movement over protection.
RESONANCE MESH (F-TIER)
Durability: 100%
Class: Normal (1 mod)
Damage taken reduced by 10%
A pair of Gravitystep Boots with minor gravitational compensators complemented the suit perfectly. The boots featured compacted emitter arrays along the soles that projected a localized counter-gravitational field, reducing the effective pull of gravity by 10%. The effect was subtle but noticeable—each step required less effort, jumps reached slightly higher, and landings felt cushioned. The boots' synthetic leather exterior was reinforced with impact-resistant panels at strategic points.
GRAVITYSTEP BOOTS (F-TIER)
Durability: 100%
Class: Normal (1 mod)
Gravity has a 10% reduced effectiveness on you.
I replaced my utility cutter with a proper weapon—a Channel Blade designed specifically for raiders that used mana. Unlike standard weapons, the blade featured a crystalline core that resonated with the user's mana signature, creating a feedback loop that enhanced regeneration rates. The hilt contained microscopic energy conduits that cycled ambient dimensional energy back into the user's system. The blade itself wasn't particularly impressive in terms of raw cutting power, but its utility value was undeniable.
CHANNEL BLADE (F-TIER)
Durability: 100%
Class: Normal (1 mod)
Mana regeneration rate increased by 20%.
Finally, I purchased an accessory item—a Stabilization Pendant. The small device hung from a nearly unbreakable chain, its central component a dense cluster of miniaturized dimensional stabilizers. When activated, it created a minute bubble of enhanced dimensional stability around the wearer, reducing the neurological and physiological strain of operating in dimensional rifts. The 10% reduction in Exhaustion accumulation would allow me to manipulate hazards more frequently before hitting critical fatigue levels.
STABILIZATION PENDANT (F-TIER)
Durability: 100%
Class: Normal (1 mod)
Reduces Exhaustion accumulation by 10%
The equipment cost me a combined 6,900 credits—expensive, but necessary. Each piece had been selected with careful consideration of my trait and ability synergies, prioritizing mobility and sustainability over raw offensive or defensive capabilities. Another 3,100 credits went toward consumables: First-Aid Nanogels for out-of-combat healing, Rejuvenators for emergency Exhaustion reduction, and enough Synthetic Nano-Feed to last several expeditions.
Rejuvenator (F-tier)
Effect: Instantly reduces Exhaustion by 50. Costs 50 Stamina to use.
Cooldown: 60 min
Back in my apartment, I laid everything out on my bed, studying each piece with satisfaction. The contrast between my new equipment and the discarded starter gear was stark—like comparing precision instruments to crude tools. The armored mesh gleamed under the apartment's harsh lighting, its surface shifting subtly with microadjustments as the embedded systems calibrated to the environment.
I didn't sleep much that night. Instead, I studied the Network's F-tier rift listings, analyzing success rates, hazard types, and reward structures. My trait's effectiveness depended entirely on environmental interaction—rifts with abundant, manipulable hazards would maximize my advantage. I cross-referenced creature types against hazard classifications, calculating optimal scenarios where minimal combat could achieve maximum results.
Three candidates emerged from the data—each matched my evolving strategy, each promised sufficient rewards to justify the risk, and each featured environmental hazards that my trait could exploit to devastating effect. The Network console chimed softly as I finalized my purchases, the holographic projection confirming my selections:
[F-07991: ECHO CORRIDORS]
[F-18224: ACID VEINS]
[F-32667: CLOCKWORK RUINS]
Three F-tier rifts. Three solo reservations. All raid slots purchased for each. The authorizations pulsed with a faint blue glow in my Network interface—small technological miracles that would open dimensional doorways to lethal pocket realities.
The dimensional portal into Echo Corridors materialized a shimmering oval of translucent energy that distorted the light around it. I approached with careful anticipation, mentally reviewing hazard manipulation strategies while the portal scanned my Network credentials.
The transition felt like being pulled through liquid glass—a momentary resistance followed by frictionless passage. The portal deposited me in a labyrinth of smooth, pale stone that seemed to glow from within. Glowing blue symbols pulsed along curved walls that rose until they disappeared into darkness above. The air vibrated with subtle energy—sound manifested as semi-physical force that I could almost see rippling through the atmosphere.
My DOMAIN ENGINE immediately highlighted dozens of acoustic anomalies throughout the complex—areas where sound waves concentrated into destructive force, chambers where echoes could multiply infinitely, corridors where specific frequencies triggered structural responses. The tactical possibilities unfolded in my mind like a three-dimensional map.
[F-TIER RIFT: ECHO CORRIDORS
Base Requirement: Locate and destroy 3 Resonance Crystals
Alternative Path: None]
Sound waves rippled visibly through the air—cyan ripples that expanded outward from any disturbance. Each footstep produced concentric circles of blue energy that traveled outward along floor and walls. The corridors weren't merely named for their acoustic properties—they were actively listening, responding, remembering.
I moved with deliberate care, testing how different surfaces responded to pressure and sound. Some sections absorbed vibrations completely, while others amplified them to potentially dangerous levels. The mesh suit hummed against my skin as its adaptive systems calibrated to the unusual acoustic environment.
The first threat appeared within minutes—Echo Hounds. Wolf-like creatures with elongated, trumpet-shaped ears and mouths that could focus sonic attacks into devastating force projectiles. Their skin resembled polished metal, reflecting the blue symbols from the walls as they stalked forward. Three emerged from adjoining corridors, their howls condensing into visible force projectiles that distorted the air as they approached.
I side-stepped the first blast, feeling the air pressure as it passed within centimeters of my head. The Gravitystep Boots responded beautifully, their gravitational compensators making my movements feel nearly effortless. I lunged toward the lead Hound, channeling mana through my Channel Blade. The weapon's crystalline core pulsed with energy, creating a subtle harmonic that disrupted the acoustic environment.
"Invert Hazard," I muttered, targeting a nearby acoustic anomaly—a section of wall that amplified sound waves. The hazard shimmered, its nature reversing. Now instead of amplifying sound, it nullified it completely, creating a pocket of absolute silence within the chaos.
The first Fracture Charge accumulated, and Reactive Fracture Tether activated. Energy surged through my system like liquid lightning, boosting my Speed by 50%. The world slowed fractionally as I moved through it, acoustic hazards becoming more distinct in my perception range—no longer simple highlights but complex patterns of interaction that I could predict several seconds into the future.
The Hounds' attacks fizzled against the inverted wall section, their howls absorbed into silence. Confusion registered in their metallic eyes as their primary weapon ceased functioning. I capitalized on their disorientation, dispatching two with precise strikes before their pack-mates could reorient. The third attempted to flee, its howls distorting the corridor behind it into visible ripples of destructive sound.
"Amplify Hazard," I commanded, targeting the distortion. The acoustic wave doubled in strength, rebounding back toward the creature with twice the force. The Hound imploded as its own amplified howl collapsed its internal organs—a demonstration of perfect environmental manipulation.
Second Fracture Charge accumulated. Another speed boost surged through my system. I was learning to time these charges strategically—using each boost to cover ground or escape dangerous situations rather than expending them all at once.
The first Resonance Crystal stood at the center of a vast circular chamber whose ceiling disappeared into darkness above. Sound waves visibly radiated from its core, creating concentric rings of destructive force that would shred anything approaching directly. Several failed raiders' equipment lay scattered at various distances—evidence of direct approach attempts. Helmets with shattered visors, armor with perfectly circular holes punched through, weapons twisted into unrecognizable shapes.
I observed for several minutes, noting the pattern of sonic pulses—their frequency, intensity, and reach. There was mathematical precision to them—a rhythm I could exploit. With careful timing, I used Create Hazard in the brief interval between pulses—manifesting a sound vacuum that absorbed the next wave entirely. The moment it formed, I sprinted through the temporary safe passage, Resonance Mesh distributing the residual sonic pressure evenly across my body instead of puncturing vital organs. The third fracture charge accumulated, creating a devastating lava field behind me, I barely escaped thanks to Reactive Fracture Tether.
The crystal itself was vulnerable only to specific frequency attacks. I had neither the abilities nor equipment to generate such sounds. Instead, I used my understanding of the environment. Two Echo Traps—smaller crystalline formations—flanked the main crystal. With precise manipulation, I inverted one trap while amplifying the other, creating a feedback loop of resonance that shattered all three structures simultaneously. I was back to two fracture charges accumulated.
The backlash was intense—like being hit with a thunderclap from all directions at once. My HP dropped by 30% despite the armor's distribution effect, and a high-pitched ringing filled my ears for several seconds before my mesh suit's adaptive systems compensated. Worth it for the first objective.
Two more crystals awaited in increasingly complex environments. The second crystal chamber featured shifting platforms over a bottomless chasm, each platform emitting specific tones that either strengthened or weakened nearby structures. By precisely controlling these acoustic properties and strategically discarding every third fracture charge, unleashing chaotic esoteric effects, I forged a secure route where there was none, turning destructive hazards into temporary supports.
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I was back at three Fracture Charges as I arrived at the second crystal. Dimensional backlash was immediate and dramatic—reality cracked at the edges, sound itself becoming visible as jagged, crystalline protrusions that erupted from walls and floor. These crystal formations acted as sound amplifiers, turning even my breathing into potentially deadly sound waves that could rebound with increasing force.
I navigated through the crystal forest carefully, using my enhanced speed from Reactive Fracture Tether to reach the second crystal and destroy it with my Channel Blade.
The final crystal was guarded by a Sonic Sentinel—an Elite monster made entirely of solidified sound waves. Its form constantly shifted between humanoid and abstract, appendages becoming waves that became blades that became concussive blasts. Its attacks phased between visible and invisible, making defense nearly impossible through conventional means. I relied entirely on mobility, using my trait to create temporary sound dampening zones while looking for weaknesses in its resonance pattern.
The fight lasted thirteen grueling minutes. By its end, my Resonance Mesh showed 67% durability from microscopic stress fractures, and my HP hovered at a dangerous 42%. The Sentinel finally shattered when I led it into a triple hazard interaction—a cascading sonic collapse that disrupted its frequency-based cohesion. The creature dissolved into discordant notes that faded into the ambient hum of the corridors. Deploying so many fractures in a single area almost killed me.
With all three crystals destroyed, the rift began to stabilize. Sound waves calmed, the oppressive pressure lifting as dimension barriers reinforced themselves. The blue symbols along the walls pulsed with decreasing intensity before settling into a steady glow.
The transition back was smoother than entry—a gentle push rather than an abrupt pull. I materialized at the designated extraction zone.
[RIFT CLEARED: ECHO CORRIDORS
SURVIVAL RATE: 100% (SOLO)
CONTRIBUTION: VOLT (100%)]
LEVEL: 3 → 4
F-tier core × 3 = 297 credits
Sonic Crystals 15 units × 40cr = 600cr
Resonant Metal 8 units × 55cr = 440cr
Echo Fragments 12 units × 25cr = 300cr
Sentinel Core 1 unit × 150cr = 150cr
SOLO BONUS (×10)
TOTAL (Network): 17,870cr
The level-up notification pulsed in my status display with a satisfying chime. Without hesitation, I allocated the attribute point to Speed, watching as the number increased:
SPEED: 3 → 4
Even with just one point increase, I could feel the difference immediately. My reactions were sharper, my movements more efficient. The synergy with Reactive Fracture Tether would be even more pronounced now—the 50% boost would apply to an already enhanced baseline. I returned to my apartment only long enough to consume a recovery meal and check my equipment before setting out for the second rift.
Acid Veins welcomed me with toxic air and the relentless drip of corrosive liquid. The transition through this portal felt caustic—a momentary burning sensation across exposed skin that faded as my mesh suit's adaptive systems neutralized the residual effects. The rift had formed inside a massive cave system, where luminous green acid flowed through rock channels like blood through veins. Each droplet that hit exposed stone hissed and smoked, releasing microscopic particles that made the air shimmer with toxic potential.
[F-TIER RIFT: ACID VEINS
Base Requirement: Neutralize the Acid Source
Alternative Path: Redirect acid flow to dissolve the Corroded Gate]
My environmental hazard detection immediately highlighted dangerous areas—pools of concentrated acid that would dissolve standard armor in seconds, vents releasing toxic gas that could corrode lung tissue, unstable ceiling sections weakened by years of chemical erosion. The acid itself registered as an omnipresent hazard, but one I could potentially manipulate to my advantage rather than merely avoid.
I advanced carefully, testing my equipment against the environment. The Resonance Mesh resisted acid splashes admirably, though each contact reduced durability by fractions of a percent—tiny sacrifices that would accumulate over time. The Gravitystep Boots provided crucial mobility across slippery surfaces, their gravitational modifications preventing potential falls into acid pools.
The denizens of this acidic hell were uniquely adapted to their corrosive home. Corrosive Crawlers—arthropod-like creatures with acid-secreting exoskeletons—skittered along walls and ceilings with unnerving agility. Their multiple limbs ended in points sharp enough to pierce standard armor, and their mandibles dripped with concentrated acid that could melt flesh on contact. Neutralizing them required precision with the Channel Blade, avoiding acid spray while severing critical joints in their exoskeletons.
Deeper in, I encountered my first major challenge—a vast chamber where acid rained constantly from the ceiling in fat, glowing droplets. Direct crossing meant certain equipment failure and significant HP loss. The acid droplets fell in a pattern, however—one I could exploit with careful timing and manipulation.
"Create Hazard," I commanded, forming a localized wind current that diverted the acid rain from a narrow pathway. The effect was immediate—a corridor of clear air appeared in the toxic downpour. First Fracture Charge accumulated, triggering Reactive Fracture Tether. With enhanced speed, I sprinted through the temporary safe passage, covering thirty meters in seconds before the wind current dissipated behind me.
Progress through the rift required careful balancing of hazard manipulation, fracture charge management and conservation of resources. Each manipulation brought me closer to dimensional backlash, but without them, I couldn't advance through increasingly hostile terrain. I used my speed strategically, accumulating charges only when I needed the boost to navigate particularly dangerous sections or escape concentrated monster activity.
The acid source was located in the rift's deepest chamber—a massive gland-like structure pulsing with toxic energy. Surrounding it were fifteen Acid Constructs—semi-solid creatures composed of living caustic solution that shifted between humanoid and amorphous states. Their movements left smoking trails on stone, and their touches could melt equipment instantly, bypassing durability ratings entirely in favor of direct dissolution.
Direct confrontation would be suicide against such numbers and composition. Instead, I observed the chamber from concealment, noting how acid flows converged and diverged from the central gland. There was a pattern to the currents—a systemic weakness I could exploit with properly timed manipulations.
With careful positioning, I executed my plan in precise sequence. First, Negate Hazard on a section of acid flow, creating a stable platform I could reach with a running jump. The negated section solidified into a crystalline structure firm enough to support my weight temporarily. Second Fracture Charge accumulated as I landed, another speed boost surging through my system. From this elevated position, I used Amplify Hazard on a secondary acid stream flowing near the central gland, doubling its corrosive properties and volume. Third Fracture Charge accumulated.
The dimensional tear pulled in something unexpected—crystalline frost that immediately began neutralizing acid wherever they touched. Alien snowflakes drifted through the newly formed dimensional rift, each one a perfect geometric construct impossible in our reality. I hadn't anticipated this beneficial fracture, but I exploited it immediately.
The interaction was violently exothermic—chemical energy releasing as heat and light. Acid and frost collided in spectacular reaction, creating explosions of steam and crystallized residue that rained down throughout the chamber. The Acid Constructs shrieked as their physical forms began to destabilize, drawn toward the chemical reaction like moths to flame. Within minutes, the chain reaction reached the central acid gland, neutralizing its caustic output in a cascade of crystallization.
As the acid source destabilized, the surrounding cave system began to collapse—ceiling sections falling as chemical reactions weakened structural integrity. I sprinted toward the exit, Reactive Fracture Tether's speed boost allowing me to outpace falling debris and navigate between collapsing passages. My Exhaustion had reached 49% despite using a Rejuvenator—the toxic atmosphere taking its toll despite my precautions. Each breath burned slightly, the mesh suit filtering the worst contaminants but unable to neutralize them completely.
I emerged into an extraction zone just as the portal protocols activated, the rift collapsed behind me as I materialized safely in the Rift Management Center. My armor showed significant acid damage—superficial erosion patterns across the surface that resembled abstract art—but had maintained its protective integrity throughout.
[RIFT CLEARED: ACID VEINS
SURVIVAL RATE: 100% (SOLO)
CONTRIBUTION: VOLT (100%)]
LEVEL: 4 → 5
F-tier core × 2 = 198 credits
Neutralized Acid Crystal 10 units × 65cr = 650cr
Corrosive Residue 18 units × 30cr = 540cr
Construct Essence 5 units × 80cr = 400cr
Purified Cave Stone 14 units × 35cr = 490cr
SOLO BONUS (×10)
TOTAL (Network): 22,780cr
My credit balance now exceeded 40,000—a small fortune for a new F-tier raider. Another level, another attribute point allocated to Speed without hesitation.
SPEED: 4 → 5
With each Speed increase, my ability to navigate hazards improved exponentially when combined with Reactive Fracture Tether.
Clockwork Ruins presented an entirely different challenge from the previous rifts. The moment I stepped through the portal, I was struck by the mechanical precision of this dimension. Bronze and copper gears of varying sizes interlocked in intricate patterns, forming surfaces that were constantly in motion. The sky above was a mass of turning cogs and spinning wheels, casting rhythmic shadows across the landscape. Each sound was crisp and definite—clicks, whirs, and the occasional grinding of metal against metal.
[F-TIER RIFT: CLOCKWORK RUINS
Base Requirement: Defeat the Chronos Arbiter
Alternative Path: None]
My trait detected hundreds of temporal anomalies scattered throughout the ruins—pockets where time flowed faster, slower, or sometimes backward. These hazards weren't immediately visible to the naked eye, but my DOMAIN ENGINE rendered them as shimmering distortions in the air—subtle warping of light and space that indicated places where chronological laws had fractured.
The mechanical denizens noticed me immediately. Timepiece Sentinels—humanoid constructs made out of small interlocking gears—began converging on my position from different platforms. Their movements were unnaturally precise, each step occurring at exact one-second intervals measured by the audible ticking emanating from their core mechanisms. Their arms ended in bladed pendulums that swung with perfect arcs, designed to bisect intruders with precision.
I drew my Channel Blade and assessed my options with calculated efficiency. Direct combat against multiple Sentinels would be risky even with my speed advantage—their synchronized attacks would eventually overwhelm my defenses. Instead, I manipulated a nearby temporal anomaly—a bubble where time flowed at half-speed, visible as a faintly shimmering sphere approximately five meters in diameter.
"Invert Hazard," I commanded, focusing my trait's effect. The temporal bubble reversed its properties, now accelerating time within its radius instead of slowing it. First Fracture Charge accumulated, Reactive Fracture Tether activating instantly and boosting my Speed. I lured three Sentinels into the inverted hazard with deliberate movements, watching as they accelerated to twice normal speed once they crossed the threshold.
The trap worked—but not as expected. The Sentinels' internal mechanisms weren't designed for the time phase transition. Within seconds, their gears began grinding against each other, joints sparking as metal scraped metal at unsustainable velocities. Two collapsed entirely, their clock-face heads shattering as internal springs released with explosive force. The third adapted more successfully, its mechanisms recalibrating to the new temporal conditions with audible clicks and whirs.
I closed the distance and dispatched the remaining Sentinel before it could complete its adaptation. My Channel Blade sliced through critical components with surgical precision, its crystalline core resonating with the mechanical frequencies around us and temporarily disrupting the construct's operational matrix.
The Clockwork Ruins operated on strict principles of cause and effect, a dimension where chaos theory had been replaced by deterministic mechanics. Each action produced a predictable reaction, which I exploited as I navigated deeper into the complex. Temporal anomalies became both hazards and tools—I consumed slower time bubbles to restore my resources and Health, amplified faster ones to disable mechanical opponents, and inverted reversal fields to restore damaged equipment by returning it to previous states. As usual my fractures were wrecking complete havoc transforming the rift into a chaotic battlefield.
At the heart of the ruins stood an immense clocktower—a structure that extended beyond visible limits in both directions, disappearing into the mechanical sky above and the gear-filled depths below. Inside lurked the Chronos Arbiter, an Elite clock-like entity that controlled the dimension's temporal flow. Its massive form was visible through transparent sections of the tower—a colossal pendulum surrounded by concentric rings of spinning gears, each tracking different temporal variables.
According to Network reports the Arbiter could manipulate time in its immediate vicinity—accelerating its own movements while slowing opponents. Direct confrontation would put me at severe disadvantage regardless of my Speed attribute unless I could disrupt its temporal control mechanisms.
The coming battle would require precise timing and maximum mobility. With careful preparation, I manipulated the temporal anomaly around the tower's entrance, creating a complex interaction of time fields that would hopefully disrupt the Arbiter's control. My Exhaustion was at 50 even before combat began.
The confrontation began the moment I entered the tower. Time distorted immediately—my movements becoming sluggish as if moving through viscous liquid while the Arbiter's massive pendulum arm swung at triple speed, covering distances that should have required seconds in mere moments. Only my Speed-5 attribute allowed me to dodge the first attack, feeling the displaced air as the pendulum missed by centimeters.
"Amplify Hazard," I called out, targeting a time dilation field directly behind the Arbiter, doubling its effect radius and intensity. Second Fracture Charge accumulated, another speed boost surging through my system. The enhanced field began interfering with the Arbiter's temporal control, creating unpredictable fluctuations that affected both of us—moments of acceleration followed by sudden slowdowns that made continuous movement challenging.
I dashed between massive gears and spinning mechanisms, using the clockwork itself as cover. The Arbiter pursued relentlessly, its pendulum arm shattering stone and metal with each swing. My plan was working, however—each manipulation further destabilized the tower's temporal equilibrium, creating cascading disruptions through its mechanical systems.
For the final manipulation, I needed perfect positioning. I climbed to a higher platform, narrowly avoiding a gear the size of a transport vehicle as it meshed with its neighboring cog. With the Arbiter directly below me, I executed the last part of my strategy with precise timing.
"Create Hazard," I commanded, forming a temporal loop—a small bubble where the same three seconds repeated continuously. Third Fracture Charge accumulated as the temporal loop stabilized. The dimensional backlash was spectacular.
Reality fractured along precise mathematical lines. The tower's interior became a kaleidoscope of different time periods—sections showing the ruins brand new with gleaming metals and perfect mechanisms, others crumbling with age and neglect, still others in various states of construction or decay. The Arbiter found itself simultaneously existing in multiple temporal states, its mechanical body unable to reconcile the contradictions as past, present, and future versions overlapped in the same physical space.
I didn't waste the opportunity created by this temporal confusion. With Reactive Fracture Tether boosting me, I leapt down from my platform and drove my Channel Blade into the Arbiter's central mechanism—the one point that existed consistently across all temporal fragments, the nexus where all versions converged regardless of time period.
The entity emitted a sound like a thousand clocks striking midnight simultaneously—a deafening cacophony of bells, chimes, and gears. Its pendulum arm swung wildly, tearing through reality itself as its control mechanisms failed catastrophically. The creature's death triggered a cascading temporal collapse throughout the tower. Time began accelerating, slowing, and reversing randomly throughout the structure—gears spinning backward then forward, walls assembling and disassembling, floors existing and not existing in alternating moments.
I sprinted for the exit, consuming a Rejuvenator to prevent my Exhaustion reaching 100. Behind me, the clocktower imploded—not physically, but temporally—aging thousands of years in seconds before reforming and repeating the cycle. The dimensional fabric began tearing around the structure, the rift destabilizing as its anchor point collapsed.
I materialized in the Rift Management Center as the final calculations appeared in my interface:
[RIFT CLEARED: CLOCKWORK RUINS
SURVIVAL RATE: 100% (SOLO)
CONTRIBUTION: VOLT (100%)]
LEVEL: 5 → 6
F-tier core × 4 = 396 credits
Temporal Gears 23 units × 50cr = 1,150cr
Clockwork Mechanisms 9 units × 95cr = 855cr
Arbiter Pendulum Fragment 1 unit × 200cr = 200cr
Crystallized Time 7 units × 120cr = 840cr
SOLO BONUS (×10)
TOTAL (Network): 34,410cr
With this clear, my credits now exceeded 74,000—an almost unheard-of sum for an F-tier raider of my level. More importantly, I'd gained another level and attribute point, which I immediately allocated to Speed.
SPEED: 5 → 6
Back in my apartment unit, I examined my status display with satisfaction while the remnants of Synthetic Nano-Feed processed in my system:
VOLT F-TIER (LEVEL 6)
HP: 100/100 STAMINA:100/100 MP: 100/100 EXHAUSTION: 21/100
ATTRIBUTES: FORCE:1; POWER:1; SPEED:6; VITALITY:1; DEFENSE:1; CONTROL:1; MANA:1
TRAIT: DOMAIN ENGINE (CURSED)
ABILITY: REACTIVE FRACTURE TETHER (PASSIVE)
FRACTURE CHARGES: 0/3
My strategy had proven effective beyond expectation, validating my unconventional approach. While traditional wisdom pushed F-tier raiders toward Force or Power attributes for damage effectiveness, my focus on Speed had created a uniquely effective synergy with my trait and ability. Each Fracture Charge now granted me a 50% boost to my already exceptional Speed, allowing me to move with precision and velocity that compensated for my limited offensive capabilities.
The equipment I'd purchased now seemed like a prescient investment. The Gravitystep Boots amplified my movement capabilities, the Resonance Mesh protected me from environmental damage without restricting mobility, the Channel Blade maintained my mana regeneration through extended operations, and the Stabilization Pendant reduced Exhaustion accumulation from dimensional strain.
I began browsing the Network for my next targets. My fingers traced the listings for more challenging F-tier rifts, occasionally lingering on particularly promising environmental descriptions.
