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Terror
I thought over everything that happened with an odd sense of discomfort. I was not one to believe in ghosts or malevolent spirits, but considering I was technically a spirit myself, I could not count out the possibility that Janje was something similar. Her voice was childlike, but it was not that of a child, and it brought me more questions than I could answer. My best theory was holding that she was a spirit bound to this place somehow, and that creature, that... thing, was either her protector or her jailer. I did not know which would be better for me.
In order to make myself stop thinking about it, I turned my attention to something else. To thinking about my past. To thinking about the fact that I could not remember any names, and wondering if Janje had anything to do with it.
My eldest brother, even though his name escaped me, the details of his life did not. Born first, he was the first one of us to gain experience in handling employees and making tough decisions. After about six years, he realized he did not want to work under our father. My father fought angrily against him for this decision, and in the end, my brother proved himself. He left home, acquired a scholarship to go to Medical School, graduated, did his residency, and became a top name Neurosurgeon.
My father finally acquiesced to let him live his life only after seeing his face on the cover of certain journals and newspapers. He would not have accepted anything less from his first son. At the same time, he would never accept anything less from his remaining three. We not only had to live up to our father’s standards, we had to surpass that of our brother.
My second eldest brother wanted to impress our father the most. He went the arts route, entering Law School and eventually becoming a Prosecutor with his own reputable law firm. Of course, the fact that several of the people he sued and cases he had just happened to be against corporate rivals of my father was coincidence. Pure coincidence.
Then there was my third brother. Arguably daddy’s favorite. Studied Business, runs the company, once compared me to a human tampon. Numerous corporate takeovers were instigated by him, he bought and funded certain start-ups that seemed to have no potential, only for them to end up bringing in revenue in the hundreds of millions. Shrewd as he was charismatic, three times he ran for political offices and three times he nearly won. Winning was never actually his goal, and that was the only reason he didn’t. He was the sparkle in my father’s eye. The prick.
Finally was me. The fourth son. The one who could neither become a doctor nor a lawyer, and lacked the Midas Touch. Even as I brought up memories of my life, my past life, I still could not remember my name. I could not remember my brothers’ names or my father’s name or even the name of my father’s company where I worked the position of “Chief Human Resources Officer.” A position my brother created and handed to me and called the C.H.O, indicating that it was the only title I would ever have that began with a C and ended with an O.
When I was nine, my goal was to become a videogame creator. I was great at drawing and starting learning to code and program. I still remember my brothers laughing when I told them during dinner. I remember my father failing to see the humor and forcing me to break all my consoles and cartridges with his golf club. I remember he let me keep the club afterwards, muttering to my brothers about ‘spoiling J too much.’ I remembered how the amount of private tutors I had doubled after that. Foreign languages, western philosophy, physics, chemistry, biology, anatomy, law, business –
Drowning me in lessons was his idea of telling me: what you love isn’t prestigious enough. His way of hoping he did not make a mistake in having a fourth son.
The memory brought me to a pause. My name – it – it started with the letter J–
... It was coincidence. Surely? Pure, random coincidence that my name also started with that letter. Coincidence.
The cave rumbled and drew me from my reverie. I was almost ready to flee if that... thing came back, but it hadn’t. Janje did not seem to have returned either. I did not have time to sit down and reminisce about the past, or flinch in fear about whatever Janje was. If this world possessed cosmic horrors, I needed to start becoming as strong as possible, as quickly as possible. If not to slay them, then to survive them. I hoped the creature that gave me my quest was not of the same one as the type guarding Janje. Regardless, killing enemies and gaining levels and powers that would help me in taking down the Kadulja was the path to follow.
There was only one problem:
You have the Negative Effect: [Extreme Weakness to Light]
Direct exposure to Sunlight will consume [100] HP per Second.
Exposure to Magical Light will consume [50] HP per Second.
Exposure to Artificial Light will consume [25] HP per Second.
As a [Shade], this effect cannot be mitigated.
Calculating from six am when the sun began to shine, to six pm, when it began to set, there were twelve full hours in which I was incapable of leaving this cave or moving out and about, as though I were a vampire. This meant that I would have to do all of my hunting and attacking at night, and left me without much I could do in the day time.
Speaking of vampires... I turned my attention to the gathered mass of bats hanging upside at the stalagmites on the roof of the cave. I could sense their warmth, and they were excellent targets. The only problem was my lack of physical skills I could use to kill them. [Excruciating Toxic Bite] and [Greater Venom Secretion] were physical skills requiring a physical body. There was only one skill I knew that was not entirely physical, and it was the only one I could think to use at this moment.
Skill: [Earth Control] Lv. 9
Details: This skill enables the user to be capable of swimming, bathing, and burrowing unobstructed through earth, rock and stone. For a cost of [0.5MP/sec] the user may mold dirt, mud and clay into whatever shape they desire. For a cost of [2.5MP/sec] the user may mold rocks, stones and granite. For a cost of [5MP/sec] the user may change the composition of the earth and rocks. For a cost of [10MP/sec] the user may create and mold earth, stones and rocks where there is none. The clearer and more precise the knowledge and details, the sturdier and better the earth created.
With 3000MP I could abuse this skill to my satisfaction. 10MP per second for creation and molding, going into three thousand, meant three hundred seconds, and this meant five non-stop minutes of me breaking fundamental forces of the universe. My MP Regen rate was 265 per hour, or roughly about, 4MP per minute, so it was not enough to make me be capable of spamming the skill, but this was where my [Genocidal] title came to play.
I focused on a target, one of the sleeping bats. I poured my energy into the idea of creation, and imagined a lump of earth in front of me – imagine –
I felt the accompanying sense of slight mental fatigue as a clump of sand appeared in the air and promptly fell back unto the ground. Creating earth from nothing was significantly more difficult than molding pebbles into spears.
“Janje is back!” I heard Janje’s voice return. “Janje brought food for masakh! Will masakh eat?”
There was no food. Nothing visible. I was not going to be stupid enough to point it out.
Thank you for the food Janje.
“Hehe! Janje is happy! Janje has not had any guests in so long! Janje has been lonely! Come on! Eat with Janje! Eat! Eat!”
I... what was I supposed to say? What could I say that would not set her off and summon back that... thing?
It – it is too little! Can you – can you add some more for me?
“Oh no! Stupid Janje! Cheap Janje! Janje’s first guest in so long and Janje serves small meal! Why did Janje do that? I don’t know – Janje is odd – Janje’ll be right back! Don’t go anywhere Masakh!”
I noticed it again. A shift from the way she referred herself. From the third person to the first person. She sparingly used the letter I, for some reason, and as much as I wanted to find out more, I needed to think of ways to get stronger and to get as far away from this cave as I could.
Focusing on my powers, [Earth Control] indicated that the clearer and more precise the knowledge and details, the sturdier and better the earth created. I thought it over. What was earth? What was soil? Sand? I knew that soil was a mixture of different types of organic matter, microorganisms, gases, liquids and... minerals.
Minerals? I thought about it, and almost dismissed the thought. As though I would have such a ridiculous power. Sand was granular material majorly made up of rock and once again, mineral particles. The most commonly known being silica. I could create sand, did that then mean...?
I focused sharply on my ability once more. In the air, I focused on creating, this time, I added details. Twelve cm long, three cm wide. Flat ended, conical shaped, white and porous. Sedimentary carbonate, from mineral calcite –
The accompanying mental drain from using my MP came along with the appearance of a single stick of white chalk.
The cave felt dead-silent.
The stick of chalk dropped to the ground and to my surprise, did not break. I suppose chalkboard chalk and raw mineral chalk were not the same in strength.
“...Did masakh cast?”
Janje’s voice came out of nowhere and almost had me fleeing. I chastised myself for being so terrified of a woman’s voice that sounded like a little girl, and focused on what she said.
Cast? Did she mean my magic?
“Masakh is cool! Only Tier Three masakh and higher can cast!” she sounded excited. “Masakh is a shade! If masakh can cast as a shade, then masakh will be really really strong! Not as strong as Meg, but still really strong!”
I was afraid to ask. Meg?
“Meg is Janje’s friend! He’s a masakh like you, but Meg is different. He’s a suuuuper masakh. Meg sticks beside Janje! But Meg doesn’t talk much. Meg is boring. Meg only ever wants to paint blood and switch off lights. He’s grouchy. He doesn’t talk about the mother or other masakh often. Do you want to meet –”
NO! I shouted. I mean – it’s best if we don’t disturb... Meg.
“Okay!” Janje chirped. “Meg says you’re funny though.”
I felt cold. You... you can talk... to Meg... at any time?
“Yep! But Meg never responded before. Janje wouldn’t be so lonely if Meg did. Meg says that he doesn’t like immigrants. He’s using some naughty words now. Now he’s saying some naughty things. Bad! Bad Meg! What’s gotten into you?”
I felt even unusually colder.
“Janje has to go – Meg is being too vulgar. Meg wants to do bad things to masakh. Janje won’t allow it!”
I was left alone, in relative silence with a piece of white chalk on the floor. I pushed aside the gathering unease and tried to clear my mind to focus on what I was doing. Creating chalk from air.
Yes, yes, focus on creating chalk, not on the invisible ghost girl and her “friend.”
Creating minerals from air was not something I ever dreamed about. I knew the specifics of chalk because I had a medical practitioner for a brother, and during his time at medical school, he made mention to something about a child entering the ER for overeating chalk. It brought me some amusement as I researched whether or not classroom chalk was poisonous, and discovered that most classroom chalk was actually made of gypsum because it was vastly cheaper. This was years ago.
How was it, I could recall this seemingly random conversation that happened years ago, and remember the details that followed and the few minutes I spent perusing the details of chalk, and yet, I could not recall my own name?
The piece of chalk was firm as I tried to touch it with the limits of my ghostly body. Firm, and slightly heated. Matter, created, by me. If only my father could see me now.
MP: 2950/3000
It took me about four seconds create the chalk, and one second for the lump of sand. I still possessed enough energy rearing and available to go, but I felt as though I was still underutilizing my ability.
The clearer and more precise the knowledge and details... I repeated to myself as I focused, harder, on creating what I wanted to create. It was something that I had seen dangling off the necks of the various women by prick of a brother brought home for dinners and business meetings.
Size – 12mm. Density – three point five three grams per cubic centimeter. Native mineral. Cubic crystal system. Octahedral crystal habit, irregular fractures, Mohs scale hardness of ten.
As I began molding, pouring all the details I knew about the mineral, I remembered that the bats were still hanging there, and I needed to take down at least one. I needed amazing aim, unlike when I was tossing rocks at the wolves in the water and missed. That annoying woman that yanked my tie and led to my death had precise aim, as I remembered her firing my phone out of my hand with a single shot.
If... if I could mold... then...
Additional Details: Cut. Sharp. Conical structure. Rotate clockwise, six-hundred miles per hour. Thrust forward at one-thousand nine hundred miles per hour.
[Earth Control] ready, set – Fire.
The cave echoed with the thunderous crack that sent vibrations travelling through my incorporeal form and brought down the inimitable sound of an object breaking the sound barrier. The waves of displaced air and cloud of mist came after a clear hole punctured itself squarely through the forehead of a bat, and then it went through it, piercing four more bats in a line behind it.
The remaining screeched, the suddenness of the loud sound waking them from their slumber and sending them flying haphazardly around, as the five bats with holes in their skulls collapsed to the ground. They thrashed for several seconds, several short, brief seconds of agonizing consciousness.
[Common Bat x5 Killed]
[900 Experience Points Gained]
The title [Genocidal] has come into effect for the Species: [Common Bat].
[325 Genocide Points Earned]
[You have created a subsidiary skill through concentrated effort.]
[Subsidiary Skill: [Diamond Bullet] has been created!]
Sub-Skill: [Diamond Bullet] Lv. Max
Details: A subsidiary skill of Earth Control. This skill enables the user to instantly fire a [12mm] conical projectile made of cut diamond at the currently set speed of [1900mph] at the cost of 250MP. Increasing the speed and size of the projectile increases the MP Cost at a rate of 50 MP per millimeter, and 300 MP per mph. Reduction in speed or size reduces the MP Cost by 10MP per millimeter and 100MP per 500mph.
Note: Once a reduction has been made, it cannot be reversed without paying the higher MP Cost.
I pondered at the damage caused to the bats, the perfectly clean entry and exit holes. As though someone used a scalpel or a laser to carve out the skull, flesh and brains. Unless I would always be making headshots as I did now, then diamond was not an effective choice of material for bullets. Firing these against a humanoid opponent would not be as lethal as a regular bullet because the diamond would pierce straight through flesh and emerge out, rather than hitting my target and dispersing the full concussive weight of the shot as normal lead bullets did.
It was amazing and awe-inspiring, but alas, impractical.
I could shoot diamond bullets from air. I knew I was supposed to feel thrilled at this development, but I couldn’t. Diamond bullets won’t save me from “Meg.”
Ignoring the morbid thought, I found the remains of my bullet, shattered across roof of the cave, confirming that despite diamond’s hardness, it was, paradoxically, a brittle little thing. I suppose anything would be considered brittle when propelled at more than twice the speed of sound.
Realizing that I could create mineral elements did open up several new avenues for me that were exciting and lackadaisical. Exciting, because I could not only create them, I could mold them into whatever shape I desired, as any geologist knew, cut diamonds were not naturally occurring. Lackadaisical, because I was no geologist, and my knowledge of minerals were limited to the most popularized ones, or the ones I may have casually read about at one point or another.
Still, this was just the start of my experimentation. The utilization of bullets as an offensive mechanism meant that the enemy was close enough to for me to eliminate them. I would prefer to only utilize bullets for long-range decimation rather than close range protection. I would prefer to have minions that would do my fighting for me, whilst I merely backed them up.
And so, I began to play god.
Clay-base. Mold into bipedal shape. Height: three meters. Separate lower form into two. Extend upper form. Spherical shape above upper-form head.
I was going to need more information than that. Floating before me was a basically a man-shaped blob of clay lacking any definition and features. I tapped deep within the well of knowledge I possessed and tried to remember my brother when he was cramming for his anatomy exams. Tried to remember my own biology and anatomy lessons with my tutor.
Enable flexion and extension, abduction and adduction, internal rotation and external rotation, dorsiflexion and plantarflexion, palmarflexion, pronation and supination, eversion and inversion.
I knew they were all terminologies relating to movement, varying from movement of the neck, to movement of the feet and wrists. The skill said that the more details I possessed and gave to what I created, the stronger and better it came.
Angular jawline, segregated phalanges, curved lips thin –
I could feel my MP draining as I poured as much focus and detail as I could into making something slightly worthy of Michelangelo or Donatello. There was a benefit to adding aesthetic value to a sculpture that was more than my own vanity speaking, and that benefit was that people tended to avoid or hesitate in destroying that which was beautiful. It was why looks mattered, and attractive people were treated better than their unattractive peers.
Finish, harden, and –
[Earth Control] – create!
The nine-foot tall clay stood firmly on the ground. With a chiseled jawline, broad chest and details that gave the impression of abs and muscles, it was my greatest work yet. It was my greatest work – ever.
It was not moving, however. It was not alive. It was just a mound of clay in the shape of a nine-foot tall handsome man. Once I was done with clay as the base, I changed it to granite. A grayish tint covering the entire sculpture until it was done.
It still was not moving. It was entirely unanimated, although I knew it could be.
Hence, I started adding some basic logic cues and commands. It was not alive, but if I could make a piece of diamond into the shape of a bullet and fire it faster than the speed of sound, there was no reason for me not to be able to code a set of basic instructions into a granite man. Floating above it and activating my powers again, I started extremely simple with conditional statements.
IF: enemy present; THEN: attack. ELSE; sit. End IF.
...Too simple; too broad. What constituted an ‘enemy?’ would it even be able to tell? What type of attack was it supposed to render? Charging forward blindly could constitute an attack. Furthermore, ‘sitting’ was not clearly defined either.
First test. [Earth Control] activate.
Granite Man turned his neck around. He turned his body around as well. He turned around again, and again, and again – until he collapsed flat on his back and began to roll around in circles. As I expected, if this was going to be anything like the brief time I spent learning to code, this was going to be difficult. I started adding details.
IF: biological object exuding heat within 50ft; OR: biological object moving greater than or equal to 2.4mph; THEN: pursue at 120mph; AND: strike with 20,000N of force. ELSE: advance to point of origin. End IF.
Granite Man stopped rolling. He stood straight, turning his ‘gaze’ toward the entrance of the cave, and before I could stop him, he raced out of the cave at a speed that I did not believe a construct of his size and shape could have possessed. I chased after him as quickly as I could float, cursing my stupidity at telling it to run at a hundred and twenty miles per hour. Had I possessed access to my [Cheetah Sprint] I might be able to move that fast.
Granite Man charged out of the cave and into the sunlight and I could not follow it lest the sun burned me into nonexistence. My work, the work I spent several dedicated minutes and consumed all my MP on, ran out of my reach.
It was a good idea to have inputted a statement telling it to return.
[Common Deer x1 Killed]
[900 Experience Points Gained]
The title [Genocidal] has come into effect for the Species: [Common Deer].
[25 Genocide Points Earned]
The notification brought me an immediate pause. A deer? I did not kill –
The realization slapped at me instantly.
[You have created a subsidiary skill through concentrated effort.]
[Subsidiary Skill: [Golem Creation] has been created!]
Sub-Skill: [Golem Creation] Lv. Max
Details: A subsidiary skill of [Earth Control]. This skill enables the user to create a non-sentient golem that can be programmed by a set of instructions to act out the user’s bidding, at a base cost of [1000MP], which increases and reduces based on size. More complicated instructions may be programmed and given to the created golem, and the golems may be edited for minor MP Costs, created out of different minerals, or made from combinations of minerals.
Note: As the Golems are not sentient, sapient or summoned creatures but simply extensions of the user’s magic, they are considered ‘weapons’ and hence, all of the user’s Titles and Stat Modifiers apply to the created golems. Therefore killing enemies with Golems will grant the user with the same experience as killing enemies themselves.
You currently have (1) Humanoid Golem.
Would you like to name your Golem?
Granite Man was a name that sounded like something a child would come up about their fictional superhero. What I had on my hands was a giant lump of granite that could outpace horses and was capable of punching at forces superior to those of a direct collision between a speeding car and a brick wall. A moving force of destruction that would not stop until there was nothing exuding heat or moving within fifty feet of it. It was created with the goal of earning me as much Experience Points and Genocide Points I could gather. With that in mind, I named it.
Your Golem has been named [Adolf].
I doubt there was anyone in this world who would appreciate the morbid humor. Then again, I would. I would, and that was all that mattered.
