A Relatively Powerful Mage

Sawyer made his way deeper into the caves with the rest of the prospectors. He idly wondered how deep they had gone; Even if he rushed straight to the entrance it would take hours to traverse the labyrinth-like cave system. His team was exploring and mapping out the caves, and he wondered if they would ever have a full map. He doubted it, even the pre-integration cave systems had often been too dangerous to uncover completely. Their efforts hadn’t been completely in vain, with them having discovered numerous Espeonite deposits for future extraction. His musings were cut short when he heard something. A faint high-pitched chitter, almost like a mouse.

“Did you hear that?” He asked as he strained his hearing, trying to pick the sound up again.

“You’re hearing…” Someone started to say, but Sawyer cut them off.

“Shut up,” He hissed, hearing the faint sound again. This time he hadn’t been the only one to hear it, and whatever was causing the sound was getting closer. They all stopped and could hear the high-pitched sound getting louder.

“I don’t like this, let’s get the hell out of here,” Someone suggested and no one voiced any dissent. They turned and started to head back towards the surface.

They hadn’t taken more than a few steps when it happened. The creature appeared as if from nowhere, moving at a speed that was impossible to track. The creature appeared vaguely human, if a little bit on the smaller side with a pale complexion from having never seen the light of day. The majority of its face was covered by a too-large maw that revealed rows of needle-sharp teeth. It had no eyes and only a slit for a nose. Its body was covered in thin wiry hairs that appeared to be sensitive whiskers.

Sawyer didn’t stop to find out what had happened to the person it had attacked. He knew it was too high level for any of them based on its speed alone. Screams of the dying echoed as he continued running. Sawyer didn't look back until it had grown quiet for several minutes. He looked around and couldn’t see any of the other 3 prospectors. He didn’t dare take more than a brief look. He prayed they were just a little bit further behind him, but he doubted it. Sawyer continued back to the surface, not once stopping to rest. He didn’t feel safe until the warm sunlight of the surface greeted him, and even that gave him only a modicum of reassurance.

Russ finished the real estate contract. That’s all he did lately, real estate contracts for Christoph. He had known the realtor turned merchant before the integration, the two of them having been rivals of a sort, competing to see who could have their face plastered on the most billboards throughout the city. Now, it irked him that he was dependent on the man for steady business. It wasn’t too dissimilar to his work before the integration, and he had thought some return to normalcy would be reassuring. It was anything but reassuring.

His family was still out there somewhere, he had to believe that. He couldn’t accept that they had just vanished or been killed, he wouldn’t accept that without proof. For all he knew, they were prisoners in that floating city, Trosano. Writing simple contracts wouldn’t help bring his family back. He needed to do more, to make an impact. He had yet to receive his class, and he had been almost completely useless in the war effort. He was one of the few people who only got the Defender of Celestia 1 achievement, with the vast majority of people getting it at rank 2.

He didn’t need to be weak, he had another option. He had felt it the moment they had set foot on this mountain. They stood atop something ancient and powerful, a force of unimaginable power. It had reached out to him, offering him a power that might be able to make a difference. All he needed to do was set it free by descending to the very depths of the abyss and releasing it from its prison. Russ had of course refused it outright. However, its offer lingered in the back of his mind tempting him. He rationalized his consideration, knowing that it was so ancient and powerful as to give little heed to a human sense of morality. People were ants before the might of this ancient primal being, and why would the god-like being bother to smite an ant that had helped it?

Russ got to work. He wrote the best contract of his life, spending hours after hours writing out every contingency he could think of. He spent the better part of several days writing it, and even after it was done he spent another several reviewing it with fresh eyes. The contract essentially spelled out that the being would give him as much power as it was able to, and in return, he would make a good-faith effort to free it. Most of the hefty contract was spent defining just exactly what each of those terms meant in painstaking detail.

Satisfied that he had done as much as he could to protect himself, Russ signed the contract. He wondered how the imprisoned entity would sign, but his question was quickly answered as a flood of power entered the contract. Nothing else seemed to happen and Russ didn't feel any different. He perused the contract and quickly noticed that it had been radically altered. He spent several hours reading and re-reading the changes. The entity, whatever it was, had clearly not been happy with his definition of good-faith effort, eliminating any clauses that allowed Russ to back out due to 'reasonable expectations of bodily or grievous injuries'. It had also removed the part where it would grant him as much power as possible and replaced it with 'compensation commensurate with effort given'. However, much of the remaining clauses remained within. He would be able to keep powers granted in perpetuity upon completing the contract, and the entity would not inflict undue damage upon humanity when it was free.

Russ hesitated, unsure if he should accept the proposed changes. He spent another several hours reviewing every word choice carefully. His main concern was that the entity could define what it considered appropriate powers. However, their interests aligned, the entity wanted to be free, and the only punishment for Russ walking away was losing said powers. If the entity gave him nothing he would have no incentive to stay.

Russ took out his pen and signed the amended document. After that, the contract vanished into nothingness. He wondered if it had been successful, but a system notification informing him that he had gained the class Warlock of the Ancients left little doubt.

The Hive Queen extended her senses throughout her domain. She was growing steadily stronger each day. By now her psychic influence extended throughout the area known as Minneapolis. She could sense everything that happened within that radius, her mind adapted to taking all the inputs of billions of drones.

Their efforts on this newly integrated world were going better than she could have possibly hoped. Her initial disappointment at being spawned within such an abysmally low mana density region had quickly been assuaged by the resources she found within, humans. They were such a fascinating species, having adapted to a world with effectively no mana. They had essentially gone down a different development path than other species in the multi-verse, having gained incredible knowledge on how various forces reacted with one another, a discipline they called science. Now she too understood this ‘science’ as she integrated and absorbed the knowledge of almost a million hosts.

It wasn’t only humanity's knowledge that she had coveted; the humans made excellent hosts. Some of the few drones that had successfully fully integrated with the human anatomy were among the most powerful psionics she had ever witnessed. This was again due to the humans having adapted to a dead world. Even in this low mana region, it was a positive flood for humans, and as a result, they were quite competent mages. Though their lack of system knowledge was prohibitive, that wasn’t a problem when they were integrated into the hive. They also had the benefit of being untethered to their expectations of what the system would offer, allowing them a wider range of classes.

With these new hosts, the Hive Queen felt confident that she would prevail in the coming conflicts. Already they won several decisive battles against the incompetent lizards, which only further bolstered her ranks. Soon, she would begin the process of drilling down to the planetary core, where the true planetary transformation could begin. Yes, the Hive Queen's success was almost guaranteed, she could foresee no outcome in which she didn’t prevail.

Olivia sighed in relief as she noticed signs of normal human beings, not those who had been infected with the slug-like Azala. She had been on the run for what felt like an eternity, though it was probably closer to a couple of months. Her group had fought both the Azala and Chixel, along with numerous other monsters. What had once been a group of several dozen was now only three. They were tired, filthy, and worn down. However, they hadn’t made it this far only to die by being careless.

“It looks like Chicago,” Miles said after he had scouted the area. “Everything appears normal.”

“What do you mean normal?” Olivia asked, the very notion of normal no longer existing in her vocabulary.

“I mean it seems like it did before the integration. I saw cars on the road, people walking around, businesses selling pre-integration goods. You know, normal,” Miles explained.

“How the fuck is any of that possible?” Rachel asked, her tone betraying her poorly concealed anger. Olivia could understand the sentiment; They had been through hell, and it didn’t seem fair that some people were able to go about their everyday lives as if nothing had happened.

“You’re sure there aren’t any monsters? They’re not Azala?” Olivia asked.

“I’m positive they're not Azala. Unless this is some powerful illusion that can fool my senses, it’s just Chicago, more or less like it was,” Miles said with a shrug.

“Alright, we check it out, but everyone stays on alert," Olivia ordered. "Who knows what kind of fucked up shit could be going on?”. They slowly made their way towards the pre-integration metropolis.

They were almost at the outskirts of the city when they noticed a vehicle headed straight towards them. As it got closer she realized it was a military humvee with a higher caliber gun trained right on their group. She held her hands up and the rest of her group followed her lead. Soldiers poured out of the back of the vehicle, standard issue M4s at the ready and pointed at them.

Olivia used Identify on each of them and was shocked that they were so low level, between levels 3-5. They must have done the same thing because they relaxed when their Identify undoubtedly confirmed they were human.

“Sorry for the harsh welcome, most stragglers have already made it into the safety of New Chicago,” the lead officer said.

“No worries, you can never be too careful these days,” Olivia replied civilly.

“If you don’t mind me asking, how did you get to be so high-leveled?” The man asked. Olivia frowned, she was level 14, a decent accomplishment, but not worth celebrating. She hadn’t even been level 10 at the one-month mark, narrowly missing out on being able to create a settlement.

“We’ve been fighting ever since the integration, is that not the case here?” Olivia asked in confusion.

“There were a few fights with some overly aggressive wildlife, but nothing overly concerning,” The officer said with a frown.

“No existential threats from multiple alien species trying to enslave humanity?” Rachel asked, a touch of bitterness leaking into her tone. The soldiers paled at that and shook their heads.

“Tell me, how many people are in New Chicago?” Olivia asked.

“I mean we haven’t exactly done a census since the integration, but we probably were able to save most people in the Chicago metro area. I reckon there are about eight million people.

“And are they all around levels 3 to 5?” Olivia asked.

“Roughly, though 5 is on the higher end, most are closer to 3,” The soldier said, still perplexed by the line of questioning.

“Do you have a small elite force, one consisting of people much higher leveled?” Miles asked.

“No, we have a few people who are over level 10, and we were lucky to have a few extraordinary individuals who were level 10 at the one-month mark, though they haven’t progressed much recently and are around the 12 or 13 range now. Those were mostly talented people who got a profession similar to what they had before the system. I think the highest leveled soldier is around 7 or 8,” he explained. Olivia’s shock and disappointment must have shown on her face because the soldier blanched. “Why is that bad?” He asked.

“It’s not good,” Rachel said flatly.

“Take us to whoever is in charge, shit’s about to hit the fan,” Olivia ordered.

Vallo stretched his legs as he was let out of the small enclosure where he spent most of his time. It was a blessed few minutes of relief from the constant torment, even if it was sheer agony to stretch his atrophied muscles. He took several unsteady steps before he regained some semblance of balance.

All around were people who had given up, their blank expressions absent some quintessential spark. Vallo hadn’t given up, he would continue fighting until the end. He did his best to steel his face, not showing any emotion and mimicking the blank expressions on so many. All too often those with hope were chosen as the next sacrifice.

Unfortunately, it was something he was incapable of mimicking perfectly, and today was not his lucky day as he quickly realized he wasn’t being led to the small exercise yard. He briefly considered trying to fight or run. He knew it would be futile and had seen that exact scenario play out on more than one occasion.

His panic quickly shifted to confusion as he wasn’t led in the direction of the altar, but somewhere different. The guards led him to a small antechamber with another set of guards dutifully on guard. He was then led into an office of sorts with a lone Chixel dressed in the well-tailored robes of the priests.

“This one greets Vallo Padar of the humans,” the priest said in a strange dialect of English.

“How are you speaking our language?” Vallo asked in surprise.

“The enchanters can extract your language using remnants of your text. From there they can construct an enchantment that converts our language into the human tongue or vice versa. It is a rather ingenious invention,” The strange Chixel rambled on, tapping a ring that contained many intricate runes inscribed on it. The magical equivalent of machine learning translation software; That was a neat trick.

“Why are you telling me all this?” He asked skeptically.

“This one thinks these ones can help each other. Padar, that is not a common human surname, no?”

“I suppose not,” Vallo said, a bit perplexed where the odd Chixel was going with this.

“Does one know the human named Imri Padar?” The Chixel asked. Vallo was taken entirely off guard by this line of questioning. He did his best to put on a face of indifference but it was too late. “That is good, are Vallo and Imri from the same clutch? This one is no expert in human appearance, but Vallo and Imri have obviously different appearances.”

Vallo hesitated, debating how much to tell. In the end, his curiosity got the best of him and he decided to see where this line of questioning led. “We’re adopted, but he is my brother.”

“Adopted, this word does not translate,” The Chixel said.

“It means to be raised by someone other than your biological parents,” Vallo explained.

“That explains it. Chixel hatchlings are expected to survive without the being that hatched them, only the strong survive. So Imri and Vallo were raised by ones who did not hatch them?”

“Sure,” Vallo said.

“Then Vallo and Imri came from the same clutch but were raised by another?” The strange Chixel.

“No, we’re not from the same clutch, we have different biological parents but were raised by the same parents,” Vallo said.

“That is unfortunate. Still, Vallo and Imri are close, being raised by the same parents?”

“What’s so important about my relationship with Imri?”

“This one met Imri. My mate said there was something strange about Imri, that he wasn’t as he seemed. Unfortunately, for as talented as my mate was, they were not able to uncover that mystery, as Imri seems nearly impervious to divination magic and the Identify skill.”

“So Imri is alive, you’ve seen him?”

“It has been a while but yes. It is likely Imri is still alive,” The Chixel said.

“That still doesn’t explain why you're talking with me. I clearly don’t know anything about Imri’s class,” Vallo said.

“My mate was a Seer. They were talented and able to divine glimpses of the future. While much is unclear, they knew that they would not prevail against Imri. It was their dying wish that humans and Chixel one day become allies.”

“Yeah, people tend not to want to ally when you ritual sacrifice them and treat them like cattle,” Vallo pointed out.

“This one is well aware. This one is but one, and cannot speak for all Chixel. However, this one will do what this one can. Vallo now belongs to this one, and is no longer in danger.”

“That’s not good enough,” Vallo said.

“This one is aware. This one will help however this one can,” the Chixel replied.

“That’s better than nothing, I guess. Just don’t expect Imri to forgive you just because you saved his brother. He doesn’t anger easily, but when he did he would hold a grudge, and that was over 20 bucks, not ritual sacrifice.”

“This one is doing what this one can,” The Chixel said, sounding almost defeated.

“Fair enough. What should I call you?”

“This one is Ettes.”