I felt a little blue. Perhaps because all the greenery, except for the grass, was now bluery. It might’ve been the ck of other people. Not a good sign. It could’ve been the creeping implications I kept repressing. Water was blue, and I was incredibly thirsty. The sky was blue, not that I saw more than little hints of it through the canopy. Maybe the silence of it all got to me. There weren’t a lot of rustling leaves or other forest noises. It might’ve been that I felt a little under the weather. It certainly didn’t help that my jacket got all torn up. The temperature had gone down and cold reminded me of the color blue. These were all things to be a little sad about.

  But the main thing was figuring it out. Three more bunnycrabs graced my path on the way here, hence the ruined jacket, and thus I’d been alternating between inhaling juicy meat and cigarette smoke on the road. Conserving my mana this way grew my stockpile, up to a reassuring ten now. My st victim had been condensed to energy, as the promise of a small coke appealed greatly. I refrained from spending my reserves right away, which proved to be one of my increasingly rare wise decisions.

  Less wise was neglecting the world around me by employing one of my many life skills and refusing to think about anything which failed to qualify as an immediate issue. Otherwise, I might’ve picked up the pace. Internally, it qualified as a brisk walk. However, my chain-smoking habit downgraded the accuracy of such an assessment. The average person might have described it as a leisurely stroll, or slow as fuck rather. There were a few worrying hints scattered about here and there. My subconscious worked overtime piecing things together until everything fell into pce, although not by any effort of mine.

  I spotted another bunnycrab coming towards me at a dead run. It tried to close the distance by dashing through a knee high bush and would’ve caught me if not for the finger-sized barbs digging in and arresting it in pce. Had my current mood been more lighthearted then ughter might’ve felt appropriate. I’d previously determined my jacket throwing wasn’t going to be very effective anymore as the increasing damage defeated the purpose thereof, so when all this occurred every bit of tactical knowhow in my possession rose to the forefront.

  In a calcuted and measured response, I fled and put my back to a rootball out of sheer cowardice. No idea why, it made sense at the time. This didn’t trigger my revetion, but rather what happened immediately after.

  There was a second hybrid crustacean present, a fact which had completely escaped me. It ran full tilt at the stuck bunnyboy and used its stinger to stab it in the head. The Errant rabbit went still after a spray of oddly dark, smoking blood. Then bunny two rubbed against bunny one in a dissonant dispy of affection. Despite my previous insane internal ramblings, it turned out theft was a great superpower.

  The opportunistic bunnycrab became twice the crab it had been before. My prospects didn’t seem all that great when it started bounding towards me. Its dual-appendage assisted loping would’ve been a sight to behold in any other circumstance. A mad scramble pushed me through the roots in hopes of hiding inside the rootsphere hollow.

  This turned into a bit of a predicament. The double-crab didn’t quite want to force itself through in my wake, but still attempted stabs into the unnatural cage. Mind-swording like a pro, I chopped off one of the appendages after far too many attempts. It took a while because I filed blindly at the blurring appendages instead of trying to time my attacks. As, the creature, now once again half the crab it was just before, wizened up to my deviousness and stopped trying to murder the air.

  The half-fluff half-monster proved impressively clever. Being no slouch myself and in desperate need of alternatives, I noticed this hollow cked a convenient staircase leading down. Should’ve checked that a little earlier. Returning to the underground dungeon didn’t seem so bad anymore, until I remembered the wrestling bone golems. Thus, I was trapped. My current confines reinforced a looming dread, partially shaken off by a mix of spite and mania. Get it together.

  It wasn’t the end of the world. That was in the past. Yet I couldn’t figure out what to do. At least the situation afforded me time to think, the hollow provided enough room to stay out of range. Shuffling sounds shortly demonstrated the bunnycrabs instincts matched my own, when a little head pushed through the roots. I mind-stabbed it relentlessly and then patted myself on the back for a job well done. The System agreed with me, as demonstrated by an opened interface. Condensing the bunny solidified my horror, 2/25. I took the mana nail, absorbed it, and then sighed in further exasperation.

  I’d reached level 5, but no skill selection prompt fshed. Instead, a new tab appeared which read ‘System Message’. Chatty fellow, if a bit one-sided about it. Normally a good conversation warmed my soul, but my preferences leaned towards me doing the talking. Remnants of the rush caused by frantic battle turned what should have been concern into annoyance. The self-important capitalization rubbed me the wrong way, compounded by the previously observed rather loose adherence to the meaning of words.

  At least it spared me any speed reading mindfuckery this time around.

  “Greetings. This is an automated message. Considering your present circumstances, I determined it best not to distract you from the Errant threat and allow you to focus on acquiring css skills first and foremost. As you have now acquired all of them, you might be looking towards broadening the scope of your empowerment. As a society which excelled at applying tools towards creating innovative solutions, you will be happy to know that is one facet of life left unchanged. To help you along, a care package has been provided towards this end.”

  My heart sank. No more skills? Fuck. Only a selection prompt graced my view. Maybe this wasn’t so bad. A ck of supplies certainly described the greatest of my current worries. A bunch of food, water and a giant pile of mana nails appealed in equal measure. As, the theme seemed to deviate somewhat from my hopes. There were only two choices, ‘css-optimal’ or ‘select other’.

  The System’s actions left me conflicted. On one hand, it clearly tried to be helpful and the first hint towards that might’ve been the whole resurrection thing. On the other, while the idea was on point, its execution left much to be desired. Ultimately, I had bigger fish to fry and reluctantly pced my faith in humanities’ aloof benefactor.

  A rectangur pouch the size of my foot phased into existence in front of me.

  Very rustic chic. It seemed to be made of well cared-for leather. Rigid dark green-brown panels overpped softer coarse material of a lighter but simir shade where flexibility wasn’t necessary. The contents consisted of a green metallic chisel shaped like a triangur pencil, five metal ptes and an out of pce rolled up sheet depicting a blue and white pictogram akin to a blueprint.

  Touching it brought up my interface, prompting me to ‘stat-link’ ‘rune-scribing’. Selecting ‘yes’ offered me a choice of stats, between physical speed, magical power, or magical speed. Only one of those sounded straightforward, whereas the others left me clueless as to what the hell they actually did. Not exactly casting spells here, cantrip aside. Linking increased the stat by one. That was it.

  Piecing together the pictogram made me fairly certain I’d just been handed a goddamn desk job and left me wondering what the hell was so optimal about this. The gist of it was to draw a certain pattern over and over on metal while thinking at the pen. It only gave one example but there was a descriptor under it, ‘hardening’. The pattern looked like diagonally crossed lines with minor embellishments. No further details were forthcoming.

  Great. A promising future as a struggling insane artist awaited me, scratching the same thing over and over again on ptes of metal. The steel industry had likely seen its peak. Current circumstances made me doubtful of it ever resurging. This will have to wait. I extracted myself from my impromptu sanctuary and remained cognizant enough to note the other bunny corpse had mysteriously disappeared. I didn’t ponder on it for long though.

  My more immediate concern was the prospect of more multi-legged bunnycrabs, and only the System knew what they’d eventually transform into. Whatever it was, they were likely to prematurely end any lofty career aspirations. A run set me off towards the west. A light jog might have been more accurate.

  Fear was one hell of a motivator though, so I managed to keep at it and only slowed down to an actually hurried walk long enough to catch my breath every few minutes or so. I hadn’t found any more Errant-trees on the way here and the overbearing dome of the canopy angled ever more downward. On the plus side, I only came across one more, thankfully single-appendaged monster-rabbit about three mana ter. Creeping darkness and cold heralded the approach of dusk as well.

  Out of breath and out of patience, I aimed my bde by telekinetically holding the sword almost against my eye and sighting down the ft once the rapid rabbit braced on all fours to strike. Launch was my kind of skill. The sword flew straight as an arrow and pierced through its fluffy back, killing it instantly. It pinned the corpse while the bde had sunk into the ground, almost to the grip.

  The System might have overestimated my throwing skills but I wasn’t compining. Condense, manual. My hunger remained, apparently destined to never be sated. At least there was no need to hurry up anymore. The curve of the canopy had finally reached ground level.

  I faced a vibrant vertical wall of bluery, branches, vines, possibly roots and System knows what else, but on the bright side there were no bugs.