Mana Concentration: Green Zone
Size: ~976 000 km2
The world snaps into focus and I find myself gasping for air like I’d just woken from a nightmare. I look around and notice I’m standing in a clearing, the earth under my boots soft and uneven. Elena’s hand is still in mine, small and warm, and I squeeze it as my eyes calibrate to a reality much brighter, sharper, and more saturated than the old one. Though, perhaps that’s just my newly enhanced senses.
It’s morning and the sky is a deep clear cloudless blue. The air is thick and chill, biting at the lining of my throat with every inhale, carrying a fresh, astringent scent that is part cedar, part pine resin, and part ozone. I breathe in again, greedily, the way you do after a long illness or a hospital stay, and it fills me with a kind of animal joy. Every cell in my body is humming.
The first thing I notice is the trees. I recognize some species — birch, cedar, pine, maple — though here they've grown to impossible heights and exist in odd hues and colours. Other trees defy categorization entirely, as if conjured from the fever dreams of some ancient druid. They rise straight and unyielding, armored in bark like hammered bronze and studded with nodules that pulse gently between violet and gold. Some trunks are impossibly thick, others as thin as reeds and braided together. The leaves are a riot of colors: emerald and citron, scarlet and indigo. The forest before us appears to stretch endlessly in all directions. I stand there, running through each of my senses, taking it all in. Every so often, a gust of wind sends a spiral of leaves tumbling through the air; they spin so slowly, so unhurriedly, I half-expect them to freeze in place.
Elena gawps, mouth open. “Dad, look!” she says, pointing with her free finger at a bird—if you could call it that—perched on a nearby branch. It’s the size of a housecat, with fur instead of feathers. It’s face is all prying, coal-black eyes and a beak that ends in three curling filaments, like the tendrils of a jellyfish. It chirps at us, a wet, fluting noise that vibrates in my ears and also, somehow, behind my eyes. Before I can examine it further, it launches into the sky and vanishes in an instant.
We appear to be standing in a elevated clearing and beyond it the land heaves and breaks into ridges, every fold of earth stitched with a web of phosphorescent moss. It glows faintly in the morning light, each patch a different color, and underfoot the ground crackles and fizzes with each step. A tangle of wildflowers crowds the edges of the clearing, their petals thick and rubbery, exhaling a heady scent that reminds me of lilacs and cinnamon rolled into one.
I crouch and touch the ground. The soil parts beneath my fingertips like water, it’s cool and damp to my touch. Something pulses beneath my fingers — a deep rhythmic sensation that is somehow alive. I press deeper and colors bloom before my eyes: emerald threads weaving through amber currents, violet eddies spiraling into impossible geometries. My tongue tingles with the taste of lightning and honey. The sensation expands outward, unfurling into a tapestry of whispers and heartbeats that stretches beyond the horizon. My head spins, reality tilting as I clutch my temple with my free hand.
“Dad? What’s wrong?” Elena’s voice reaches me as if through deep water.
“It’s beautiful” I whisper, then seeing her worried face, add, “Nothing love. Dad picked a few traits that let me see things differently now. I just need a minute to adjust — that’s all.” I focused on my breathing, finding an anchor in the warmth of the inhale and the cold of the exhale. Slowly the web fades, as my brain adapts to the new input. It doesn’t go away — not entirely — but it settles into the spaces between my other senses. Still there, still feeding me information, but no longer dominating everything. If I focus I can see the threads beneath everything again, waiting for me to get lost in their beauty once more.
I glance at Elena and give her a reassuring smile. “I’m okay, sweetheart. Your old man just takes a bit longer to adjust sometimes.”
She nods. “I know, Dad. It’s fine. I’m here.” She squeezes my hand gently, her voice filled only with concern and reassurance.
A wave of pride swells in me, and a tear slips down my cheek. “Thanks, kiddo. I appreciate it. We’re in this together, right?” She tilts her head with determination, never letting go of my hand. So small, yet so brave and caring.
Before I can say more, Elena studies my eyes and asks, “Dad—what’s up with your eyes? They’re still the same color but so much more intense, and they look like they have storm clouds in them. And your pupils are narrower, almost like a snakes, but not quite.”
Oh, so that’s what “minor cosmetic changes” meant, I realize. “It’s part of an ability I picked, honey. It sharpens my senses.”
She accepts that without another question.
Since we haven’t had much chance to talk, I changed the subject. “How did you do on picking your starting loadout, love?”
“Good,” she replies, then grows silent. I pause, hoping she’ll say more, but nothing comes—suppressing memories of our dinner time dance, I try again. “Alright. Want to tell me about your choices, or should I just look at your character sheet?”
“Oh, go ahead and read mine. I’m already checking yours,” she says, half-distracted.
I pull up her sheet. She’s right—her starting loadout is solid. She’s clearly mixing mage, rogue, and bard. Though she picked way more glitter based spells than I thought was strictly necessary.
I study the page. “Did you pick an archetype?” She nods though says nothing else. “What archetype did you pick?” I ask, hoping to get some small snippet out of her.
“Dreamweaver,” she says. “It sounded way cooler than the others. Some were just generic—cast spells and swing a sword. So uncool. You’ve got to pick something with flair.”
Please, don’t ask me what I chose, I thought to myself, suddenly self-conscious about my own choices and how “uncool” they might seem to my six-year-old, whose approval I might be craving a bit too much.
I turn my attention towards the gear that the system gave me, though before I can properly inspect it Elena taps my arm and points to the edge of the clearing. There stands the largest rabbit I have ever seen. It had to be the size of a large dog.
“Dad, Identify” Elena whispered to me.
“What?” I said not understanding what she meant.
“I-dent-ify” she whisper yelled at me.
Oh crap. That’s right. I though before turning my attention inwards and focusing on the word identify while staring at the rabbit. A system prompt immediately appeared, the contents of which rapidly filtered into my mind.
—
Rabbit of Unusual Size
Species: Oryctolagus Homocidium (aka “Murder Bunnies”)
Level: 3 (G Grade)
Congratulations on discovering the multiverse's most adorable apocalypse! Rabbits exist in every reality—sometimes with scales instead of fur, occasionally sporting tentacles where ears should be. The constants: Two powerful jumping appendages, reproductive rates that can make a fertility goddess blush, and a cuddly appearance that lulls other species into a false sense of security.
They also all harbor a delightful quirk: exposure to mana transforms these fluffy darlings into homicidal murder machines with a taste for genocide and flesh. They'll cheerfully exterminate roughly 80% of all life forms they encounter. Entire civilizations have fallen to these cotton-tailed terrors, saved only by the rabbit's tragic inability to achieve space travel.
Except in the 56th Integration — but we don’t want to think about that now. It was horrifying. We had to abandon and seal off an entire universe just to keep them contained. And they’re still in there, doing system only knows what. Creeping in the dark, waiting to escape again. We can still hear the screams…but lets not dwell on that.
Murder Bunnies come in all shapes and sizes, and this particular specimen is quite chonky — as you humans say. The good news? In these early stages, they're relatively easy to dispatch. The bad news? Yours is about to live up to it’s name sake in 3...2...1...
—
As I finished processing the prompt, it took me a second to clue into what the count down meant. By the time I brought my focus back to the Rabbit of Unusual Size, it was already flying through the air straight at me. Before I could react a stream of glitter engulphed it, causing it to crash to the side. “DAD! MOVE!” Elena shouted at me.
Suddenly I could hear Bonnie Tyler’s Holding Out for a Hero playing around me and my limbs infused with energy. I felt like I could take on the world…or at least one very large bunny rabbit.
I turned to look at the rabbit in question, noticing that its fluffy exterior was now covered in glitter. It righted itself and turned towards us, a murderous gleam in its eyes as it lunged again.
My heart raced as adrenaline surged through my veins. The air crackled with tension as Bonnie Tyler’s anthem continued to pulse around us. I dove, rather ungracefully to the side and narrowly avoided the bunny's razor-sharp claws. The ground quivered under its weight as it skidded to a halt, its claws tearing into the earth were I had stood moments before.
“Elena, keep casting those spells!” I yelled, trying to mask the fear creeping into my voice. Taking my own advice I mentally reached for my [S.T.O.P.] ability and time slowed around me. I could feel a slow drain on something within me, though I had the sense it would be sometime before this reserve ran dry. Must be my mana I thought to myself.
The world crawled to a standstill around me. My heartbeat thundered in my ears—once, twice—as I locked onto Elena's position, then the monster's. Fifteen feet between them. Too close, I thought. My fingers twitched toward the hilts at my sides, muscle memory I didn't have yesterday surging through me like electricity. Time snapped back. I cast [Blur] and [Haste], feeling each spell pull mana from deep within me. I drew one of my blades with my right hand, the metal catching sunlight as I dropped into a stance I somehow knew would let me move fastest. Knowledge continued to flood me, causing me to move without even realizing it as my skills came to life.
The ground trembled beneath us as the Murder Bunny leaped high into the air, aiming for a devastating pounce. Elena unleashed another flurry of glittering magic, the spell hitting its mark, temporarily blinding the beast and giving me just enough time to call upon my [Flicker] ability as I leapt to the side.
The world stretched like taffy as [Flicker] activated. One second I was in the path of the oncoming cotton tailed murder machine and the the next, WHAM! Face-first into the trunk of a tree where the bunny had just been. Stars exploded behind my eyes as I crashed into the tree, momentum from my haste spell turning me into a human missile. My aim always did leave something to be desired.
Pushing off the trunk, I spun around. The bunny was pawing frantically at its glitter-caked eyes. I triggered [Flicker] again, white-knuckling my blade. Space bent—and suddenly I was behind the beast, its fur close enough to touch. My arm became a blur as I slashed and stabbed, each strike opening crimson lines across its massive flank. The creature's flesh parted under my blade with sickening ease.
The rabbit shrieked—a wet, high-pitched sound, like a kettle full of blood boiling over. It wheeled around far faster than something its size should be able to, jaws yawning open to expose two rows of obsidian-black incisors. The saliva dripping from them sizzled as it hit the ground, burning small holes in the moss. I leapt backwards, surprise and revulsion fighting for supremacy, and nearly impaled myself on my own sword as I tripped over my own two feet.
Before the rabbit could take another step, a comet of glitter rocketed past my ear with a sound like tearing metal. It struck the beast's gaping maw and detonated within its open mouth. A thunderclap that shook the clearing, the explosion ripping through the rabbit from the inside out, each microscopic shard of glitter becoming a miniature bullet, shredding flesh and bone. Blood-slick fragments peppered my face and arms like burning hail. The blast erupted from the rabbit's gaping maw directly into my face. One heartbeat I stood, the next I was airborne, then crashing down. My back hit earth with a thud that sent shockwaves through my spine while my lungs emptied themselves in one agonizing whoosh.
My head throbbed as I sprawled on the ground, the world tilting sideways. Something in the fuzzy back corner of my scrambled brain whispered "fire... always fire..." My lips curved into a wobbly grin—even concussed, some things never change. I dragged my arm up, the limb feeling ten times heavier than normal, fingers trembling as I aimed them vaguely toward the blurry rabbit-shape. The words [Abyssal Embers] tumbled through my mind, slippery and disjointed.
For an instant, nothing happened. Then a pulse surged forth and a black sun ignited in my palm. Space inside the spell range just… evacuated, all light and heat stolen away, and the sun burst forth to fill the area with a cloud of black embers drifting, weightless, through the air. The embers landed on the rabbit's fur, which immediately began to smoke and burn with black flames. As the flames burned, the bunny began to collapse in on itself as the flames consumed the very bonds holding it together. It let out another inhuman shriek as it convulsed, and collapsed. There was no gore, no melodramatic splash—just a shell of fur and bone, caved in on itself like a rotting pumpkin.
In the background the music started to fade, and a final almost silent course singing about the need for a hero when the morning light comes, echoed over the silent carnage.
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I let my arm fall, smoke rising from my hand, the aftershocks of spell work making my fingertips tingle. My heart hammered in my chest, the sick-sweet rush of adrenaline only now receding, leaving behind a hollow ache in my limbs.
You have defeated a Rabbit of Unusual Size.
Experience awarded…
Experience diverted to [Elena Alighieri].
10 system credits awarded.
Congratulations! You are now a Level 2 Homo Fabulis.
+3 Free Stat points awarded.
Swordsmanship increased to 12.
Combat Casting increased to 11.
Elena materialized beside me before the victory notification finished scrolling, her face a battlefield of emotions. "Holy CRAP!" she half-laughed, half-screamed, bouncing on her toes. "That was—we just—did you see its FACE when my glitter bomb went BOOM?!"
Whatever strength I possessed fled me as the adrenaline drained away, leaving me hollow and shaky. Sweat turned cold on my skin. "You were amazing," I managed, each word requiring conscious effort. "Were you hurt?"
She brushed off my concern with a wave. “I’m fine! Are you? You got pretty close to that thing. On purpose.” Her tone was accusing, but I could see the fear lurking beneath. “Don’t do that too often, okay?”
"Strategic positioning," I mumbled, tasting copper.
"Yeah, well, strategically position yourself farther from the murder-bunnies next time."
“Can’t promise,” I said, “But I’ll try.”
We sat in silence, watching the rabbit's remains smolder with otherworldly flames. Elena nudged me with her elbow. "Hey Dad?"
"Hmm?"
“Why did the bunny cross the road?”
I held back a groan as I replied, “Why my love?”
“To murder you!” she said with manic glee and I couldn’t hold back the groan, followed by a laugh.
+1 Resiliency
Egged on by my response Elena continued with another joke, her eyes gleaming. "What's the difference between that bunny and roadkill?" She paused letting me think. "Roadkill was an accident."
Another laugh tore from my throat, more raw and more unhinged. It kept coming, hysteria rising like a tide, until my stomach heaved and I vomited spectacularly into the grass. When did I swallow glitter? was my final thought before my stomach heaved again and my only concern became the twisting of my own guts.
—————————————
When my stomach finally settled, I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and took several deep breaths. The throbbing in my head subsided as my regeneration ability kicked in, knitting together whatever internal damage the fight had caused. A few feet away, Elena sat cross-legged, her fingers weaving patterns in the air as she conjured small, shimmering objects out of dreamstuff.
"You okay, Dad?" Her eyes never left my face, scanning for signs of weakness.
"I'll live." I managed a weak smile. "Just been a while since your old man's been in a fight. Especially one involving that much glitter." I said with a wry grin.
Her laugh was forced, concern shadowing her features. “Don’t forget to read your notifications” Elena reminded me, which was 100% what I was about to do anyways and in no way did I need my 6 year old to remind me.
I turned towards the system text awaiting me.
Title Unlocked: First Blood
Title Unlocked: Vomit Free since 03..seconds…
Quest Assigned: The First 24
Quest Unlocked: Murder the Bunnies!
Why do I feel like the system is about to make fun of me? I thought as I pulled up the descriptions for both of the titles. I was keenly aware that the Architect had made no mention of such a feature, but given how common such things were in video games and the books I used to read I had a pretty good idea of what to expect.
—
First Blood (Common)
Well, well, well. Your first kill certainly made our highlight reel. The weaponized glitter bomb? *Chef's kiss.* That abyssal fire that craves to consumed reality itself? Perfect. Watching you stumble around like a newborn giraffe while your six-year-old demonstrated the combat prowess of a tiny berserker. Fantastic.
Don't worry—we're sure you'll catch up to her... eventually.
Reward: [Loot (Common)] ability
Loot (Common)
You would be surprised how no one ever thinks to look for one of these abilities in their character creation, despite the fact that it literally gives you free stuff with a wave of your hand.
When activated this ability allows you to harvest materials from natural sources (including defeated enemies) without doing the dirty work yourself. Quality of resources gathered will depend on possessing the relevant harvesting skills, with lower or non-existent skill levels resulting in a significantly higher chance of lower quality materials.
—
Okay, not bad. I thought to myself, though I couldn’t help but feel that the judgement of my abilities was a little harsh.
—
Vomit Free Since ‘03…seconds…(Common)
Congratulations! You were one of the first to vomit on this wonderful new world we made for you. Thanks. We’ll send you a cleaning bill.
Don't feel too bad—your 6-year-old couldn't possibly have done any be—oh, she absolutely did. We’re sure in no way that has anything to do with the secret system buffs children get to handle apocalyptic trauma. Or the fact that your brain got scrambled like Sunday morning eggs by friendly fire.
Either way lets see if we can make it a bit longer before we do this again? You don’t want to see the second title in this series.
Rewards: None. You do not get a reward for throwing up.
—
Yep. Pretty much what I thought. I let out a sigh and decided to throw my three free stats into vitality before moving onto the quests. If nothing else, this battle showed me that I would need to improve my health pool as much as possible.
—
The First 24
Primary Objectives:
- Survive the first 24 hours
- Ensure [Elena Alighieri] survives the first 24 hours
Secondary Objectives:
- Reach level 3 within the first 24 hours
- Help [Elena Alighieri] reach level 3 within the first 24 hours
Rewards: You live. Seriously we shouldn’t have to reward you for that, but I guess a bonus boost of experience can be provided depending on your performance.
—
—
Murder the Bunnies!
You’ve faced your first murder bunny and it won’t be your last. These things breed like crazy and you need to keep the population under control. Note: Unless otherwise specified, this quest is available zone wide and everyone can contribute towards its completion.
Primary Objectives:
- Do not let the murder bunny population exceed more than 300% the survivor population. Currently at 134%.
- Destroy at least three Murder Bunny Warrens (0/3)
Secondary Objectives:
- Do not let the murder bunny population exceed more than 200% the survivor population. Currently at 134%.
- Destroy at least five Murder Bunny Warrens (0/5)
Optional Individual Objectives:
- Kill at least 50 murder bunnies (1/20)
- Be involved in destroying at least 1 warren
Rewards: To be determined based on individual contributions.
Note: Only the Primary Objectives need to be completed for rewards to be provided. Enhanced rewards will be provided for completion of secondary or optional objectives. Failure to complete Primary or Secondary objectives will have significant consequences.
Time Limit: 29 days 23 hours 42 minutes
—
The quest's deadline aligned perfectly with the end of the Integration's first phase. I pushed away thoughts of what failure might bring and focused on Elena, who was already three steps ahead of me. As usual.
"Did you get a loot ability too, Dad?" she asked, bouncing slightly on her toes.
I nodded, pointing toward the remains of the oversized rabbit. "Yeah. Should make things easier."
"I already looted it," Elena said with a hint of pride. "Got a murder bunny foot and some scraps of pelt. All common. It didn’t give me anything else — the System said they were 'compromised by abyssal energies' or something."
Mental note: keep those abyss powers away from anything I might need later.
I pushed myself upright, waiting for the world to stop tilting. "Let's move before all that noise brings something worse our way." With each passing second, my balance returned, regeneration slowly erasing the fight's damage.
I did a quick scan of the area, and for the first time, the world didn’t look quite so overwhelming. Each disturbance in the moss, the faintest tremor of the undergrowth, even the static charge of mana on the nearest birch trunk—I sense it all, a symphony of subtle warnings queued up for my attention. My head spins a little, processing the sheer volume of data now accessible to me, but I find it easier to compartmentalize it than even moments ago.
Trees surrounded us in every direction, though they thinned out somewhat to the south. When I looked that way, I spotted a shimmering barrier that stretched skyward and curved east to west as far as I could see. That had to mark our zone's boundary. Heading toward it made little sense—we'd just have to double back. If we wanted to find other survivors, our best bet was to push deeper into the zone rather than skirting its edges.
A few paces away, Elena skipped between patches of wildflowers and stopped to examine rocks with equal curiosity. She hummed to herself, occasionally pausing to narrate her findings, as if auditioning for some children’s discovery show. Her joy, and general sense of wonder with the world, even under these circumstances, was inspiring.
“Dad, look!” she called, holding up a dandelion the size of a softball. It was a vivid yellow and covered in tiny, writhing cilia instead of fluff.
“Careful with that,” I warn, a split-second before she blows on it. The cilia detached as a cloud, each one twitching in the air before sinking and swarming toward me.
Elena laughs. “Relax, Dad. They’re not even biting!”
I squint. She’s right—they’re not attacking. Instead they land all over my arms and immediately start cleaning the blood and rabbit gunk off my skin, working with single-minded efficiency. Within seconds they finish and detach, drifting off into the wind.
I watch the tiny cleaners drift away on the breeze. "Huh. Nature's own biohazard team." Scanning the dense canopy to the north, I point toward a slight rise in the terrain. "Let's cut through there—stick to the tree cover but try to find higher ground. Maybe a stream too, if we're lucky." Elena's already moving before I finish, her mane of hair bouncing as she picks her way between ferns and moss-covered stones.
We make our way through the woods, her skipping and scampering, me moving with the wary stride of someone expecting murder bunnies to rain from above at any moment. Every so often she stops and makes a mental note about a strange flower or rock formation, occasionally filling her inventory with whatever catches her interest. At some point, Baby appeared in her hands and she began asking their opinion of various pieces she found.
As we continue our journey I can’t help but admire the beauty that surrounds us. The sun filters through the lush green canopy overhead, casting dappled light on the forest floor. Trees of all sizes tower above, their trunks covered in moss and lichen, faint traces of energy swirling within them. Their branches rustling in the gentle breeze that carries the scent of pine and decaying leaves. Ferns and wildflowers dot the forest floor, providing pops of color against the varying shades of green.
I pause to take a breath. The forest's sounds wash over me—rustling leaves, distant bird calls, and finally, the unmistakable gurgle of running water. We follow the sound until we spot a narrow stream cutting through the moss-covered ground.
"We should follow this," I said, kneeling to test the water's clarity with my fingertips. "It will help keep us oriented and hopefully, maybe other survivors will have the same idea."
Elena's shoulders tensed at those last words. Her fingers twisting the hem of her leather jacket.
"Dad," she whispered, her voice catching. "I asked the Architect about Mom." Her eyes shined with unshed tears. "He said we can't find her yet, but the way he said it..." She swallows hard. "She's not here with us, is she? Not in this zone."
My chest tightened. I'd hoped to shield her from this conclusion a little longer.
"I think you're right," I admit, watching her face fall. "But listen—" I take her small hands in mine. "That just means we have work to do. Get stronger. Find others who can help us. And when the time comes, nothing will stop us from finding her."
Elena's chin trembled. "What if she's scared? What if she needs us right now?"
"Your mom is the toughest person I know," I said, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Remember when she fought off that raccoon at the campsite with nothing but a flip-flop? I froze. You ran for the van and locked yourself inside it. But your mom charged at it swinging her flip-flop like she was on some heroic last stand."
A ghost of a smile flickered across her face.
I pulled her into a hug, feeling her thin arms wrap around my neck. "We'll find her," I promised into her hair. "But first, we need to survive. And speaking of which—" I pulled back, meeting her eyes. "That bunny would've had me for breakfast if not for you. You're braver than I ever was at your age and I am very proud of you"
Her smile grew a fraction stronger, and for now, that was enough.