Action and Consequence.

  The simple phrase had been looping in my mind for the better part of an hour as I lounged in the driver’s seat, my feet propped up on the console, absently scanning the APC’s user manual. Up until now, I’d been flying by the seat of my pants, but the last thing I wanted was to inadvertently wreck this mobile fortress.

  Surprisingly, for someone as singularly focused as me, someone for whom multitasking was a monumental effort, the ability to simultaneously ponder abstract concepts and absorb technical jargon was a welcome, if unsettling, development.

  Action and Consequence. The principle was pervasive, applicable not just to the chaotic events of the past two days, but to something far more fundamental.

  Action: I’d fought for my life against the vampiress. Consequence: I became a vampire.

  Action: I’d hurtled from one challenge to the next, fight after brutal fight. Consequence: I’d begun to crave the adrenaline, the visceral thrill.

  Action: My body was a seemingly limitless engine of power. Consequence: Unless I remained vigilant, I could easily push beyond my enhanced limits, tearing muscle and sinew. Physical boundaries still existed.

  Action: My mind could operate at an accelerated pace, processing and retaining information at superhuman levels. Consequence: Overstimulation could lead to debilitating aneurysms unless I prioritized rest.

  Everything, down to the smallest detail, was a delicate dance of action and consequence.

  I sighed, running a hand over the close-cropped stubble on my scalp. Since when had I become so damn introspective? Usually, I dealt with the immediate, the tangible, leaving the philosophical ponderings for those with the luxury of time and inclination.

  Action: I had buried my doubts beneath layers of purpose and pain. Consequence: A growing unease, a creeping realization that the longer I ignored them, the sharper those doubts would become, like the unseen edge of a blade. Action: I kept pushing forward, driven by a primal need to survive. Consequence: I might reach my destination and no longer recognize what I was fighting for. I paused, the weight of it all settling heavily in my chest. Action: I needed answers. Consequence: I had no guarantee I would like them.

  Slowly, I turned towards the passenger seat.

  Glinting with barely suppressed energy, pulsating with a faint, internal hum, the massive Aether Crystal I’d carved from the Minotaur’s corpse bathed the APC’s interior in a dull, ethereal blue light. Despite my ignorance of its alien nature, the power it radiated was as palpable as the worn fabric of my jeans. Power. Energy. Magic.

  “Screw it,” I hissed, dropping my feet from the console and reaching for the crystal. There’d been too much hesitation, too much dwelling on the “coulds” and “what ifs.”

  Answers or not, I knew where to start looking. Shashka still had some explaining to do. But first, one little score to settle. Something I'd been postponing if only because there had been other priorities. Let's see what this big rock's worth.

  “Puck,” I whispered into the quiet.

  “Mmmmyeeeeessss?” the weird thing crooned, its long, twig-like fingers wrapping around my shoulders. “Oh, I was wondering when you’d ring. Poor little me was starting to feel downright unwanted.”

  I didn’t play his games, just held up the glowing crystal.

  “How much is this worth?”

  Puck shifted in a blink, quiet as a shadow, fast as a lightning strike. One second he was draped over my shoulders, the next he was sprawled across the console, skinny fingers twitching around the Aether Crystal like a junkie reaching for his next fix.

  “Oh, sweet child, THIS… this is a Greater Aether Crystal. Almost pure. The magic inside, it is so beautifully untainted, the raw stuff of crea..... ”

  “How. Much.” I cut him off, pulling it away from his eager fingers.

  Puck turned his glowing eyes on me, head tilted. Trying to figure out what went on in that alien brain was a lost cause. He held up all ten of his fingers.

  “One hundred. The same as one hundred of the smaller crystals you get from the Sinborn of Envy, or Goblins, as you call them.”

  “And enough to get me that Vanguard Class?”

  “Mmmyeeeess,” Puck hissed, and I could almost see a smirk behind that wooden mask. “Convenient, no?”

  “Mhmm,” I nodded, slowly placing the Aether Crystal back on the passenger seat, holding Puck’s gaze.

  A long silence stretched between us, neither of us moving, sizing each other up. Puck finally broke it.

  “Well?”

  “I’m waiting for your sales pitch.”

  His head tilted slowly. “My… sales pitch…?”

  “Yeah. Why should I buy from you when there are plenty of others lining up?” I answered with a smirk, circling my finger to indicate the space around us.

  It was easier to see them now. To sense their presence. Their reflections in the blackened glass of the windshield. Feyvolken, a dozen or more, packed into the back of the armored vehicle, waiting.

  “Not like last time, is it, Puck? Last time they were here to gawk at the freak show. But this time? This time they want to talk to the guy who offed a Sinborn of Wrath without a Class.” I crossed my arms, a sneer twisting my lips. “They smell profit this time, don’t they?”

  It was a shot in the dark, a hunch. One I hadn’t even considered until I’d seen their reflections when I’d called Puck. But judging by his sudden silence, I’d hit the bullseye.

  His move was instant, lightning-fast and sharp as a razor. In the blink of an eye, Puck’s spindly fingers gripped the edges of the seat, his wooden mask inches from my face, eyes burning a hellish red.

  “Insolent little leech. You dare…”

  “SHUT THE HELL UP!” I snarled back. His voice might have carried the threat of more raw violence than the Minotaur’s roar, the power around him might have felt like getting slammed by waves, but I didn’t back down. Not anymore.

  I had faced the Minotaur. I had killed it. I had stared down death and choked it with my bare hands. I was owed a little damn respect. If there's anything I'd learned from that whole mess with Andreas, and it was high time I started demanding instead of letting life, or people, walk all over me.

  “It’s not leech. Or parasite. Or ‘my boy.’ Or whatever other crap you think you have the right to say, you stuck-up little fairy. It’s JON. Spell it out. Use it.”

  His eyes blazed for a long second, then flickered back to their dull blue with a snap. “Hmmmm… got some fire in you finally, don’t you? Alright, JON…” he sneered, dragging out the name mockingly, “…what’s the extra you’re looking for?”

  “Information,” I said, holding up a hand to cut off his incoming spiel. My leverage, despite the tough talk moments ago, was still thinner than cheap toilet paper. I knew he wouldn’t spill anything about the world-gone-sideways. But I could fish for something else.

  “I know information’s gold. But I’m not asking about your world, or mine, or this messed-up combo we’ve got. I want intel on the Vanguard Class. Specifically, the ‘why.’ Why that one? Why go for the bottom-of-the-barrel option instead of saving up for something better?”

  Puck slowly leaned back, tapping a long finger against his wooden mask, like he was running calculations in his head.

  “Fine. That is… acceptable as extra incentive to continue this… arrangement.”

  With a soft pop, the Fey vanished. The Aether Crystal was suddenly warm in my lap, its spot on the passenger seat now occupied by Puck, mirroring my position with his freakishly long legs bent and twisted onto the console.

  “It is quite simple, Jon. We Fey created the Class Marks for one. Singular. Purpose. To give you worthless, pathetic little flesh sacks the ability to break free from your limited existence and taste the infinite potential of Aether. Magic without chains, save for what you can imagine.”

  He tilted his head back, lacing his fingers behind his wild mane of hair, staring at the metal roof.

  “Of course, what the Class Mark offers is just a sliver, a tiny glimpse of that boundless universe, but it is enough. Enough to go beyond the limits of your physical form. Without a Class, no matter how hard a human trains, there’s always a ceiling they’ll hit. A fist can break wood, then bone, then stone. Given enough time, maybe even granite. But what about iron? Then steel? It’ll shatter against that. A limitation.”

  He turned his head, wiggling his fingers in a childish imitation of running. “A man can outrun another man with enough effort. Then a dog. A horse. Maybe even one of your... vehicles?. But can he outrun the sunrise? Or a crossbow bolt? No. A limitation.”

  Clasping his hands together, those floating orbs reappeared, the inky stuff inside churning and roiling.

  “But a man with the Warrior Class can smash iron. A man with the Dervish Class can outrun a bolt. This, Jon, is what Classes are. The chance to leap beyond the boundaries of flesh and bone.”

  Puck snapped his fingers, and the orbs vanished, except for one. Inside it, I saw sharp angles and letters, symbols and runes that looked familiar, like the tattoos on those actors in Viking documentaries. Just like the ones Shashka had etched on her skin.

  “You’ve seen the Warrior Class in action, right? On the little Beast-kin. The passive Skill to shrug off projectiles. The active Skill to turn her territory into a locked-down arena.”

  He turned his head back, holding up three fingers. “Passive Skills. Aura Skills. Active Skills. Those are the three flavors a Class offers. And mostly, these Skills give you something new or make something you already have better.”

  Before I could jump in with a question, Puck kept going. “Take the Warrior’s third Skill, for example. ‘Eldj?tuns br?l.’ An Active Skill that lets you throw a cut so strong it can split a man-sized boulder in half. The more the Warrior charges it up, the more Aether the Class Mark sucks in, and the stronger the attack. At its upmost zenith, it can slice through plate armor like butter. That’s a Skill that gives an attack. It takes no stamina to use. Effortless.

  Comparatively, the Vanguard’s first Skill. ‘All-In.’ A simple enough attack that burns all the Vanguard’s stamina to boost one strike to three times its speed and power. The Aether it uses is minute, and it leaves the user completely exhausted. That’s a Skill that enhances. And compared to it's Warrior Skill counterpart, it is fairly... underwhelming, no?”

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

  Puck stopped there, just staring at me. He was waiting to see if I’d caught his drift. And I had.

  “But, if you can get infinitely stronger, and your stamina’s endless, eventually the Warrior Skill with its set damage cap becomes a liability, while the Vanguard Skill just keeps getting better.”

  Puck slowly pointed a finger at me, like he was saying, “Bingo.”

  “And out of all the Classes, the Vanguard Class is almost entirely made up of skills that enhance. For a mortal with a limited lifespan and a limit to how strong they can get, quite underwhelming. But for an immortal with limitless room for growth?”

  “A permanent buff,” I finished, a chuckle escaping me. “It’s min-maxing.”

  Puck tilted his head. “What?”

  “Nothing, just a gamer term,” I said, waving a hand dismissively.

  “Then, can we proceed with our transaction now?”

  I slowly shook my head, holding up two fingers, taking a sliver of satisfaction in Puck’s groan. “Two more questions.”

  “One, a couple of hours ago I got a splitting headache...”

  “Because, you dimwit Jon, your meat suit needs to catch up with your endless energy. Of course your brain ruptured when you pushed it without giving it time to rest. There's a reason why Vampires have coffins to sleep in. Vampire or not, you’re still a physical being. Bend an iron bar enough times, and it’ll snap eventually. But every time you train, or fight, or use your muscles, even if they tear, they’ll grow a little stronger. Tougher. Harder to break. Until eventually, they’ll be able to handle your infinite stamina. That subpar mass of flesh inside your skull works the same. Use it, then let it rest, then use it again.” Puck rattled off the answer, tapping his wrist like he was checking a non-existent watch.

  I nodded. It made sense. The same rules as normal human anatomy, just cranked way up. “Last question. Does this Class Mark mess with my soul in any way?”

  Puck slowly turned his head back to me. “Now you’re just screwing with me, aren’t you?”

  I shook my head. “No. Never about something like that.”

  Puck swung his head back and groaned, like an overworked parent dealing with a particularly dense kid. “How many times do I have to say this before it sticks? The. Soul. Cannot. Be. Tampered. With! Hell, just trying to do something like that will damn you to a fate that even we Feyvolken can’t fully wrap our heads around. No, Jon. The Class Mark won’t touch your soul. It won’t chain you to the Fey, it won’t mess with your head or your body. All it’ll be is another weapon in your arsenal. No different than your ax, or your precious guns.”

  “Alright. Thanks, Puck,” I said flatly.

  The Fey did a double-take, tilting his head like an owl. “Thank you? What’s this? Politeness? Decency? Good heavens, Jon, are you finally warming up to the magnificent creature that is myself?”

  “Nope,” I sneered, digging the last Orc Aether Crystal from my pocket. “Little Puck.”

  She popped into existence between me and the tall Puck, now-white mane of head fur twitching as she looked from one of us to the other. I held out the Aether Crystal, a spiteful grin plastered on my face.

  “Is everything this one’s said true?”

  The little Puck looked at me, her tiny hands slowly rising, tiny soft fingers coiling over the Aether Stone.

  “Is true… Pucks cannot… lie…”

  “Oh, you have GOT to be kidding me. I have to jump through all these hoops, but SHE gets to do business just like that?” the tall Puck whined, flailing his spindly arms like a kid throwing a tantrum.

  “Well, to be fair, she’s adorable. You’re not,” I deadpanned, grabbing the Greater Aether Crystal and offering it to the tall Puck.

  His frantic movements stopped, as he stared at the crystal, a dark liquid dripping from the bottom of his wooden mask. Was the freak drooling?

  “Then, can we finally engage in commerce?”

  “Yeah,” I answered, all the amusement draining away. Time to get serious. I’d played my games and gotten my answers. Now for the real part.

  “One Greater Aether Crystal, its value equivalent to one hundred normal Crystals, in exchange for the purchase and application of the Vanguard Class Mark,” Puck said, his hands hovering, but not yet touching the pulsating object.

  I nodded, and fingers like twitching vines curled around the Crystal as Puck finally got his fix of raw Aether. His body trembled and spasmed, head tilted back, glowing eyes staring blankly at the metal ceiling. It was almost sickening to watch, but I’d seen enough junkies chasing the dragon to know it when I saw it. Addiction, plain and simple. Barely different from my own thirst for blood, except I could control mine, used as I was to going without.

  “Good. Commerce is concluded then. Now, please remove your shirt,” Puck said, unclenching his hands and standing up. Where the Aether Crystal had been, an orb now floated between his furry palms, the inky substance within swirling like it was alive.

  With a tap, the orb burst like a soap bubble, and the black ink stilled, settling around Puck’s hand, forming what looked like a black leather glove.

  I got up, shrugging off my hunting jacket and the shirt underneath, moving away from my seat.

  “You’ve bulked up, haven’t you, butterball?” Puck snickered, slowly moving his hand towards my chest, a finger extended like the tip of a spear.

  “Yeah, I have. And I’ll keep going. This gonna hurt?” I asked, watching his finger press into the center of my chest.

  “Probably. I suggest you clench your jaw,” Puck deadpanned, and the black glove on his hand suddenly lunged, stabbing into my flesh.

  I grunted, feeling the stuff dig into the surface of my skin, but no deeper. Painful, sure, but nothing I couldn’t handle. Not even close to the gut-wrenching agony of starvation, or the world-tilting vertigo of sunlight. I gritted my teeth and endured in silence. I’d been through worse. Survived worse. This was nothing.

  Puck never took his blue eyes off my chest as he worked, tracing his finger across my skin, the inky substance following, tearing and eating into flesh, only to settle into a dull throb, like a mild burn from touching hot metal.

  “There. Beautifully done, if I do say so myself,” Puck announced, drawing back to admire his handiwork.

  I turned back to the dark glass of the windshield, taking it all in. For all the world, it looked like I’d just gotten some ink. A dead-simple sword, etched straight down the center of my chest. The crossguard stretched across my upper pecs, the pommel went up my throat to just under my chin, and the tapered point ended right above my navel.

  No fancy swirls, no intricate details, no artistic flair whatsoever. Just a basic, brutal design. The kind of tattoo you’d expect to see on a dockworker after a drunken night and a visit to the cheapest parlor in town.

  And yet, I couldn’t deny the power humming beneath my skin, like it was drawing in the air and storing it. The ambient Aether Puck had mentioned. This had to be it. I ran a hand over it, feeling the almost imperceptible stiffness of my skin where the ink had settled.

  My weapon. My success. My Class. The result of my effort. The physical proof of the crap I’d had to claw my way through these past few days.

  Something earned with nothing but grit and stubbornness.

  I liked it. A lot.

  “The maximum Rank of this Class is seventeen. As your Rank increases, the Mark will evolve and grow, new patterns appearing upon you. And do not fret. When we Feyvolken, in our boundless generosity, designed the Class Marks, we made them to speak to you in a way you can easily understand. Custom-made, as it were. I will be watching you, Jon. I will be watching your little adventures. Try to put on a decent show, won’t you?”

  A pop, and I turned to see Puck was gone, the slimy bastard probably bolting before I could fire off another question. Little Puck, however, was still very much there.

  “Don’t suppose you could tell me more about what Puck was talking about, huh?”

  She hesitated, then tilted her head down and shook it slowly. “Rules… information… valuable… payment necessary…”

  “Yeah, figured as much,” I smiled. It was hard to be annoyed with her, especially when she looked so apologetic about not being able to give me more.

  Her head snapped up suddenly, and the little creature pattered towards me, her bare paws making almost no sound on the metal floor. She gestured with her hands for me to lean down. As soon as I did, she cupped those tiny hands to my ear and whispered, like a furry little co-conspirator.

  “This not… information. Is… advice… given freely. Close eyes and… focus on Class Mark. Focus… and ask it… about itself…” she whispered in my ear.

  I straightened up and smiled. “Thanks, Little Puck.”

  The tiny creature nodded emphatically and, with a pop, vanished.

  “Ask it about itself, huh?” I muttered, wondering how the hell you'd go about talking to a tattoo.

  “We will assume this is regarding the new… addition… to our mental landscape, yes?” the Animal chimed in as soon as the Feyvolken were gone, and I hissed out a breath. What was this, a damn reunion?

  “You’ve been awfully quiet for a while now,” I thought back, reaching for my shirt and jacket.

  “HAH. Nonsense. We chose to be silent. Too much… turbulence… in our shared consciousness. Decided that the inclusion of our own most invaluable and magnificent counsel should be… postponed.”

  “Right, right, well isn’t that just swell of you. So what ‘addition’ are you talking about? Are you trying to tell me this Class Mark is sentient?”

  “No. Not sentient. Not like us. But it operates on principles we can grasp. It… seeks to be utilized…? No… not utilized. Of use. Yes… a quasi-sentience, predetermined knowledge and answers. A semblance of quasi-sentience.”

  “So…” I began, trying to decipher the Animal’s peculiar way of speaking, “…like a computer? A system?”

  “Yes. The latter, we believe. It is quite… fascinating. The information it offers… it is more than just its attributes. It seems this Class Mark can also perceive our nature. Our… progression. And provide information on that as well. Most… advantageous.”

  “Hmm, Little Puck told me to close my eyes and ask a question. What do you think?”

  “WE…” the Animal began, drawing out the word, making sure I understood the unity of our being, “…know that it resides within our consciousness, in the same manner as our stronger and weaker aspects. And, as such, we know it requires only our focused attention to… inform.”

  “Alright,” I nodded, closing my eyes and taking slow, steadying breaths. “Show me, then. The results of my effort.”

  A smile stretched across my face, my gums tingling and my teeth lengthening. Not with hunger, not with the craving for blood. But with anticipation. Excitement. Hope.

  In the darkness behind my eyelids, I read words I couldn’t see, perceived information I wasn’t told, but simply… knew. And it took the form I could understand. Make sense of.

  Exactly like a character sheet in an RPG.

  Race : Vampire ( Rank : Fledgling )

  Class : Vanguard ( Rank : 1 )

  Age : 18

  Strength : 7 (Baseline : 3 , Vampiric : 3 , Training : 1 )

  Agility : 7 ( Baseline : 2 , Vampiric : 5 )

  Vitality : 11 ( Baseline : 4 , Vampiric : 5 , Training : 1 )

  Mind : 10 ( Baseline : 5 , Vampiric : 5 )

  HP : 100% / 100%

  Stamina : ??? / ??? (Limitless)

  Blood Pool : 92% / 100%

  Racial Traits :

  

  
• [Passive] Vampiric Anatomy : Grants immunity to aging, poison, and disease. Enhances base stats and learning speed (+300% experience gain for physical capabilities, training and combat). Body naturally trends towards physical perfection (physical status will not diminish under achieved physical peak).
  
    
  
  
    
  • Stat Bonuses: +3 STR, +5 AGI, +5 VIT, +5 MND
    
      
  
  
    
  
  
    


  
• [Passive] Partial Physical Immortality : Requires simultaneous destruction of brain and heart within 1 minute for physical death. Vulnerable to Sunlight (-99% HP debuff. Status : Paralysis), Fire (5% HP drain/sec), and Blood Starvation (Status : Madness)
  
    


  
• [Passive] Regeneration : Naturally heals wounds at a rate of 0.1% HP/minute. Can be enhanced with Blood Buff (1% HP / 1% Blood Pool)
  
    


  
• [Passive] Limitless Potential : Attributes automatically increase with Rank (+100% to all attributes per Rank). This is additive of all other attribute increases.
  
    Rank increases naturally with age (+1 Rank per century) and unlocks further Racial Traits.
  
    Consuming strong blood will increase Rank, regardless of age.
  
    Current Rank Progression (via strongblood) : Fledgling (1/10) - Blood of Wrath (1)
  
    


  
• [Passive] Blood Pool : Stores consumed blood (max 100%). Slowly depletes for sustenance (-1% per hour) or powering Blood Buff. (Side Effect: Addiction)
  
    


  
• [Active] Blood Buff (Red Cauldron) : Temporarily increases the Strength of one body part by 100% for 10 seconds. ( Cost: 10% Blood Pool )
  
    


  
• [Active] Frenzy : Temporarily exceeds physical limitations by 200% (Cost: 2% Blood Pool per second, Status : Madness)


  

  Class Skills :

  

  
• [Passive] Cadence (Rank 1): Each successful melee attack within 3 seconds grants +1% Attack Speed per stack (Stacks : limitless). Resets after 3 seconds of inactivity. (Passive Cost: +5% of ???% Stamina per attack..... limitless)
  
    


  
• [Passive] Veteran’s Reflex (Rank 1): Permanently grants +50% to Reaction Speed and Hand-Eye Coordination
  
    


  
• [Active] All-In (Rank 1): Enhances one attack at 300% speed and power.
  
    (Use : 1/day. Side-Effect : Exhaustion. 1 day of rest for recharge..... Error.... Limitless Stamina.... Not Applicable)
  
    (Vampire. Use : Unlimited. Possible Side Effect for Vampire : Overuse in too short a span of time may result in muscles tearing apart)
  
    


  

  The data flooded my senses, a vibrant, detailed overlay that painted the raw potential thrumming within me. It wasn't just a vague sense of power anymore; it was quantified, categorized, and presented with the stark clarity of a well-designed game interface. Just like Puck had mentioned, my power and capabilities had been translated into stats, skills, and percentages. Even the nuances of my vampiric nature, mysteries until now, were laid bare in crisp, informative text.

  I exhaled, the sheer volume of information feeling like a tangible weight lifting from my shoulders. Finally, something palpable. No more estimations, but a system, a framework for growth and understanding.

  And I'd come to a decision, as far as my next steps were concerned.

  Time to get back to work.

  END OF BOOK 1.