He was so excited. If it worked, this was going to change everything.

  Living Wood manipulation loped off the end of a spear, and, in moments, he had a coin. One side was given the image of the head, and the other that of a bird.

  Mentally, he created the image that he wanted. The plan was that twelve straight heads in a row would mean ‘Yes.’

  As prepared as he was ever going to get, he took a deep breath. “Is the best result for humanity going to be achieved if I cut off all contact with Briana?” he asked out loud. The term ‘best for humanity’ was defined around the expected number of ranking points humans would receive. This was not a question he wanted to ask, but he felt compelled to do so.

  As Corrine had said, Briana was a part of humanity. This question was as much for her as it was for others. Nevertheless, he truly hoped the answer was not a yes. The thought of having to do so after what she had gone through in the darkhole trial was enough to make him almost want to cry. However, he had never been one to let sentimentally get in the way of the greater good.

  Bitterly, he spent twenty fate and flipped the coin, fully intending to be bound by the answer.

  Discordant trumpets went off in his head.

  A sharp pain spiked through his skull, and he crashed down onto his knees as he was suddenly unable to support his weight.

  The whole world rocked, and he felt dissociated from his body. His sluggish mind struggled to understand what had happened.

  He was dimly aware of the coin landing and bouncing and then rolling away from him, but he didn’t care.

  His head was hurting.

  With all of his focus, he activated Touch Heal. Instantly, the diagnosis component reported the results.

  There was nothing physically wrong. No damage in his brain for it to fix; and yet it still felt like the universe was wrong, like the walls were not stable, and like he lacked the energy to even shift from his knees. If anything, he wanted to keel forward and collapse fully onto the ground.

  He was too tired for that.

  It was weird. He knelt, unable to move, his blood thundering in his ears.

  There was a dripping sound.

  He looked down.

  Plop.

  There was a small puddle under him, with splashes radiating outwards. It was red.

  Plop.

  The dripping sounds, the funny feeling he was suffering.

  Confused, he stared at the wooden floorboards and the splatter of blood.

  Another drop fell, and added additional complexity to the pattern.

  He was bleeding, he realised, and he raised a hand to his nose and then looked numbly at his now red stained fingers.

  His nose was literally dripping, and Touch Heal had found nothing!

  The world swayed.

  Plop!

  It was a mess that he was going to have to clean up once he got energy back.

  What’s happening? He asked himself.

  Plop!

  It had just been a simple use of fate. Then the strange trumpets gone off, and there had been a spike of pain followed by this bleeding.

  He had done something wrong. Something, somehow. The question was what? Why was his nose bleeding? Why was the world swaying? What did the noise represent? Trumpets were a good thing, weren’t they? Was this backlash from receiving some sort of overpowered skill?

  A thrill of excitement went through him. He wondered what he might have received.

  Plop!

  The blood drained the excitement’s energy away. He wondered if this was what death felt like. He hoped he wasn’t dying, but he didn’t think these symptoms were consistent with getting a reward.

  He glanced at the ritual status screen and then pushed to his feet.

  That was the answer.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  He stumbled over to it, and, his hands clumsily, activated it. Then he focused his scattered thoughts on bringing the most recent ability he had received up.

  The negative symptoms were fading, and he hoped that was a good sign. Maybe he had gotten a title for discovering another use for fate?

  Writing filled the screen, and his brief burst of joy collapsed into ashes when he registered the contents.

  Plop.

  The dripping blood landed on the screen and splattered. A radial circle of mini droplets spread out from the impact point.

  He sniffled and placed a hand to block his nose as he stared at the contrast between the bright display and his very red blood. “Fuck,” he whispered, then reluctantly focused his attention on the writing.

  Internally, he prayed that he had misread, but knew he hadn’t.

  Title: One Exploit too Far (I)

  You have attempted to arbitrage the system and use fate for a purpose beyond the bounds of its intended use cases. You were at a conscious, or at the very least in your upper subconscious level, aware that this action went against the GOD’s plan for the ability.

  As he was re-reading that description, Tom was suddenly thankful that the title was as benign as it was. It was basically accusing him of deliberately exploiting something against the wishes of the GODs. That was a dangerous path in Existentia. Everyone knew the consequences of accidental blasphemy. To do so willingly would have ratcheted the corresponding punishment to another level. For him to have done so when GODs were actively hunting him was the equivalent of committing suicide by volunteering for a month-long torture session.

  It’s the kind of thing that would get a named term assigned to it. The Tom Award, which would be like the Darwin award just reserved for people even more monumentally stupid.

  He was very glad the reaction was constrained to this title instead of the alternative.

  Plop!

  His perfectly healthy nose continued to bleed, but the frequency was reducing, which told him that it would stop soon. Grimly, he resumed his re-reading.

  The transgression was for using fate for divination.

  The human racial skill has a loose relationship with the future when it is used. By design, the ability influences probabilities to achieve a future impact. To maximise efficiency, this involves a level of precognition to determine what random chance event to influence now to get the maximum benefit in one, ten, twenty minutes’ time or in a week, month, or year.

  As a result of your attempt to exploit this link, the following penalty is applied.

  Permanent Penalty: Any fate you spend will be barred from using precognition at any time horizon greater than four minutes. As a result, your fate’s efficiency in time frames beyond four minutes will be materially nerfed.

  Tom considered that penalty and what it meant. When it came to combat, he would mostly be okay, but for longer time periods, that would be a problem. Building fate up over days to help with a perfect cast of a spell became a lot more troublesome, as would influencing levels like the way he had done it in the Explosive Growth Trial. The shaping of battle grounds for anything other than the most immediate of benefits was now pointless.

  It was not terrible. A lot of the core behaviours would continue to function as powerfully as ever. Chaos Bolts could still be enhanced at will to defeat powerful enemies, lucky moments in battle would continue to occur, loot portals could be directed to meet needs, and his capacity to influence evolutions and perfect casts at least the final step hadn’t changed.

  The biggest impact, Tom realised, was on his newly-created earned skill. That hundred points of fate he was generating daily, in one-unit increments, could no longer be used efficiently. His current method of sending them to influence future events was going to be rendered ineffective.

  That was sad; however, he was sure that he would be able to think of a method to continue to gain benefits for it.

  He felt like hitting something, but didn’t. Flexing his willpower, he kept reading to absorb the extras that he was sure DEUS had insisted on being included. He wondered if the text would have any hidden meaning.

  Note 1. This is a contagious title. If you give guidance about it, instead of the recipient being barred from it, they will instead receive it immediately.

  Note 2. The ability for fate to predict the future was explicitly allowed by the GODs within the Divine Champions' Trial. This title does not supersede that GODs placed mandate and Fate within the Divine Champions’ Trial will continue to have the same impact it always has.

  Note 3. Known Heretic has influenced this title and been changed in turn. This title has contributed a small amount to upgrading Known Heretic to a new level. In the other direction, these notes have been made available due to the boost.

  Note 4. The core functionality of fate remains unaltered. The only component that has been restricted is that involving nebulous intentions towards the future. Short term use within the four minute window remains unaltered. For full clarity, investing future fate towards a perfect cast attempt with a sideways evolution is, unfortunately, impacted, because the innovation into the weaves is done in the future. This method for all humans was already suffering a seventy percent reduction in efficiency versus having the fate act in real time.

  Tom paused to consider the wording of the text, which, he presumed, DEUS had caused to be included. That last line pretty much told him that sending fate into the future was a mistake. He had been losing seventy percent of the impact by saving it up like that. Ideas of how to adjust his approach occurred to him, but he decided he would worry about that later. The GODs must have argued long and hard about what to include, and it sounded like his patron GODDESS had won.

  Probably only because Known Heretic was at such a high level.

  He continued reading:

  As for the nebulous use of fate in the future, such as the kind that had been used to shape trials - this will be heavily nerfed. However, a more concrete application of intention will get better results. An image such as ‘make it so my party can beat the trial,’ might suffer a 99.9% penalty, while defining ‘the monster to have a speed less than rank four along with significant lightning vulnerability’ might drop the penalty to only 80%. If this image is refined further, the penalty might reduce to less than 50%.

  Tom sighed, then felt the subtle movement on his nose and caught the next drop just before it splattered on the screen.

  He glanced around the empty isolation room. Even though the effort had backfired, even though it had resulted in his fate being nerfed, the potential reward for success meant that the attempt had been worth it.

  “You can’t win them all, Tom,” he told himself. Besides, the cost of this title was nowhere near as bad as it could have been. He could still use his coin trick in the divine trials and, if he had to shape future events, there were going to be allies around who would be able to do that on his behalf.

  Really, nothing had changed.

  There was still a competition to win.