They moved in single file along the spine of the Vault’s innards: warped catwalks, dented maintenance rings, chains thick as tree trunks, all bolted into stone that pulsed with the Heart’s off-beat rhythm. The crystal core hung above and slightly to their left, an enormous, wounded star wrapped in gold and silver bands. Every few seconds it shuddered, light skittering along fractures like lightning trapped in glass.
No one talked.
Boots on metal. Quiet breathing, deliberate steps. The faint clink of weapons and gear. Greg took the rear by unanimous, unspoken agreement. The vibe was terrible. Greg wasn't sure if it his unpredictable Rage, or the prophecy that showed him destroying the world, or the life-threatening mission they were currently on, but no one seemed up for chit-chat.
Every time the Heart flared a little too bright, he remembered his hands locked on that Sun-band, the way the current had screamed through his bones. The way the Rage had surged up, delighted at being plugged into something that big.
One clamp down. Three to go. Maybe more. The system hadn’t exactly come with a manual.
Except it had. He’d just never read it.
A tiny icon blinked patiently at the edge of his vision, the same one that had been blinking since the tavern cellar: a small leather-bound book with a ribbon bookmark and a smug little sparkle.
[Journal] — Unread Entries (37)
He’d been ignoring it the way he ignored overdue bill notices back home. Close your eyes long enough and the problem would just… get worse and worse. A problem for Future Greg, the poor, dumb fuck.
Ahead of him, Violet eased around a missing section of catwalk without looking back, trusting them to follow. Elowen had a hand on the inner rail, knuckles white, her limp worse on the uneven metal. Nars moved like he’d been born on scaffolding. Doran treated the whole precarious mess like any other Tuesday and stolidly trudged along.
They were all trusting each other.
Can they trust me? Greg wondered.
He adjusted his glasses and steeled himself. Fine, open already, you stupid fucking thing.
The world dimmed at the edges as the overlay bloomed into view, crisp lines and clean fonts imposed over the dizzying drop.
A neat little bar appeared, with tabs for different types of journal entries, the information displaying below.
Quests | Tasks | Codex
The Quest of Legend
ACTIVE: Interfere with the Vault Heart
· Rescue the Elven Cleric
· Rats in the Cellar
A little note shimmered at the bottom.
ProTip: Main Quests advance the narrative and are necessary if you want to survive.
Side Quests offer dangerous challenges in exchange for powerful rewards.
Tasks are like mini-Quests, that suck. Don't waste your time on those.
Fuck, already off to a bad start. "Necessary if you want to survive" might have lit more of a fire under his ass, if he'd read it before now. The first objective had been Rats in the Cellar. If he’d opened this earlier, he could’ve known that the “Quest of Legend” was a thing and not just flavor text from Elowen's lore. The Vault Heart had been the destination from the start. If he'd approached Elowen weeks ago...
He flicked the view toward [Tasks] with a thought. The highlight slid along the top bar.
Quests | Tasks | Codex
Current Tasks:
· Read your first Codex Entry
· Capture/Defeat the Chicken
· Deliver Garlic to the Grocer
· Sweep the stables
· Pee for 30 consecutive seconds
(...) click here to see previous entries
The Codex item pulsed annoyingly.
He almost laughed, which felt like the wrong choice given the way the catwalk flexed under them. He dismissed the Journal back to a ghost in the corner of his vision and focused on the next jump: from the warped steel tongue they stood on to a hanging service chain.
Nars went first, an easy, fluid swing, hands catching the links, boots scuffing metal as he climbed. Violet followed, muttering without sound, lips moving fast as she calculated load-bearing thresholds and failure points in her head. Elowen hesitated only a second before making the leap, fingers catching, arms straining, jaw tight with pain she refused to voice. Doran went last before him, the chain groaning but holding.
Greg’s turn.
He sheathed the Giant Fucking Sword across his back and jumped.
For a moment he was weightless over the abyss, the Heart’s glow painting the shaft below in ghostly color. Then metal slammed into his palms, hard and unforgiving. His fingers closed reflexively, links biting through the skin, and his full weight yanked on the chain.
It jerked, swung, and held.
His shoulders screamed. The Rage perked up, interested in the pain. He ignored it and climbed.
Hand over hand, trying not to think about the endless drop below. Trying not to think at all.
Halfway up, arms burning, he let the Journal icon swell back into clarity.
This time he selected [Codex].
The list that unfolded was longer than he expected.
Quests | Tasks | Codex
* World Basics
· Blucliffe and the Surrounding Region
· The Old Sun Faith (Totth)
· The Many Faces of the Moon (Velyun)
· The Vault Network (Anchors)
* Factions & Peoples
· Elves of the High Dawn
· Moonborn Houses
· Dwarven Deepholds
· Adventurer's Guild
* Mechanics
· Death & Continuation
· Rage-State Protocols
· Instance Locking & Anchor Fields
* Special Entries??//UNVERIFIED?
※ The Stranger at the?? Threshold
※ Narrative Pe??rmissions & You//
※ Kn??own Companions
The last category seemed janked in, like it wasn't supposed to be there.
His hand slipped; he clenched harder on the chain and hauled himself up another rung. Sweat stung his eyes. It was insane to read while climbing, but his brain needed something to chew on that wasn’t “one slip and you’re all dead.”
First things first. He opened The Vault Network (Anchors).
The text unfurled in his mind’s eye in a clean, uncomplicated style, like a passive-aggressive encyclopedia.
The Vault Network (Anchors)
All?? the world’s a game,// and we t??he playe??rs.
Each Vault Heart maintains a portion of the world’s time-keeping system: spin, tide, light, darkness. Together they form the Anchor Network, keeping day and night balanced on Aegis.
Moonborn cults (see: The Many Faces of the Moon) seek to hijack these stabilizers. By corrupting their Hearts, altering the Anchor rings, or overloading the control foci, they can tilt the balance toward permanent twilight.
Like most apocalyptic??scenarios, this is c//onsider??ed bad by some// (but not all).
Important for You (Greg):
- Direct physical interaction with Hearts or Anchor bands is not recommended
- Your presence amplifies local field disturbances
- Controlled intervention via authorized interfaces (e.g., Primary Focus) is preferred
- Uncontrolled Rage events near Anchors may cause cascading failure
Please see also: Rage-State Protocols, The Stranger?? at the Threshold//UNVERIFIED?
He almost missed the next foothold.
Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.
“Direct physical interaction is not recommended.” No shit.
Greg hooked an elbow around the chain long enough to let the entry fade and tap the next one: Rage-State Protocols.
Rage-State Protocols
Barbarians possess a capacity to draw on excess energy from their environment and convert it into increased physical output. This is colloquially referred to as “Rage.”
Rage is both psychological and metaphysical:
- Psychological: emotional overload (fear, anger, grief) triggers an altered focus-state.
- Metaphysical: your pattern resonates with Anchor fields, allowing temporary overclocking of your physical stats.
Side effects include:
- Reduced pain feedback
- Increased destructive capacity
- Poor risk assessment
- Permanent +6 to abs
- Potential Vault corruption when emotionally ungrounded
Recommended Usage:
- Activate Rage away from sensitive Anchor infrastructure
- Maintain line-of-sight to a trusted grounding focus (e.g., your coziest blanket, or perhaps your crush?)
- Avoid stacking Rage with external disruptions (e.g., magical energies, midlife??crises,//etc.)
Fail??ure to follow these guidelines// may result in:
- Major ??Dickwad Behavior//
- Permanent Environmental Changes//
- Negative Status Pena??lties//
- Restless leg Syndrome
- ※
Trusted grounding focus, right. His eyes went, automatically, to Elowen’s back a few meters above. The way she moved carefully but steadily, refusing help unless she absolutely needed it. The way she held herself between Violet and the drop without making a big deal of it. The way her hair had been half singed by the Warden, and she’d just braided the ruined strands in with the rest. That butt.
Grounding, yeah. That was the problem.
He climbed the last few rungs and hauled himself onto the next ring. The metal here was narrower, the drop closer. Nars was already scouting ahead, finding the next safe-ish route. Violet crouched at the edge, eyes fixed on the tangle of control machinery on the far side of the Heart. Elowen leaned against the inner rail for a moment, her hand pressed lightly to her ribs. Doran stood like a squat, immovable counterweight, one big hand wrapped around a support strut.
They were all tired. They were all still moving.
Greg’s chest hurt in a way that had nothing to do with the climb.
He could keep pretending this was a normal isekai situation, where the loser protagonist gets dropped in with a destiny and a harem and a cheat skill and obliterates all his enemies because now his Power Is Over 9,000!!! Or he could admit what the Codex was quietly screaming at him: at best, the game was fucking with him. But this was a game, and he had abilities. Powers. Maybe he could fuck the game back?
The [Codex] list still hovered, waiting.
His focus snagged on Special Entries.
He opened The Stranger at the Threshold.
The Stranger ??at the Threshold
Designation: Greg Good
Local Names: Destroyer, Off-worl??der
Properties of The Stranger://UNVERIFIED?
- Does not “belong” to the existing cause-effect chain//
- Therefore, is not fully bound by it//
- Can interact with systems (UI, Anchors, Quest structures) directly//
- May carry emotional and cognitive frameworks alien to the local myth//
The Stranger is a risk? and a resource??
- A risk, because their presence can accelerate collapse.
- A resource, because they can repair what local agents cannot reach.
Expect??ations of You, Greg://UNVERIFIED?
- You are required to save the?? world
- You are uniquely able to alter certain outcomes??
- You will be offered chances to break or reinforce key structures//UNVERIFIED?
- Your choices will matter //to people who are very real.[Δ PERMISSIONS]
Note: Treating your companions as “non-player characters” is not recommended. Their experience of pain, joy, and loss is indistinguishable (for them) from your own//UNVERIFIED?
See also: Narrati??ve Permissions & You, Known?? Companions.
Something in his chest loosened and tightened at the same time.
That first line was a doozy: You are required to save the world. That could mean anything, Greg told himself. Then the rest: uniquely able, chances to break things, people who were very real.
He hadn’t realized how badly he’d needed someone, anyone, to tell him that they were real too. Even if the explanation was metaphysical bullshit and carefully hedged.
The Codex kept going.
He opened Narrative Permissions & You mostly because he hated the title.
Narrative Permissions & You
//UNVERIFIED?You have access to interfaces and choices other inhabitants do not. This does not make you better. It makes you responsible.
Permis??sions granted:
- Access to Journal UI (Quests, Tasks, Codex)
- Ability to perceive and sometimes influence system prompts
- Capacity to survive events that would terminate local patterns (under limited conditions)
Permissions withheld:
- Direct editing of source assembly//
- Predictive Analytics
- Exemption?? from consequences
//UNVERIFIED?You are not the only force acting on this "??story". Gods, ??cults, old machines, and far worse??will try to stop.// you
So much for the tutorial fairy. Either his Codex was glitching, or it pulled from two very different sources. A mystery for another time.
Ahead, the path narrowed to a set of staggered plates jutting from the stone, the kind of thing a level designer back home would’ve put in just to watch streamers fall off. Nars signaled silently, just quick hand gestures, but it occurred to Greg that they’d nearly died together enough times to have their own little shorthand.
Greg muted the overlay down to a translucent ghost and followed.
Step, balance, step. The Heart pulsed to one side, casting hard shadows. The air smelled like hot metal and ozone and something older underneath, like dust that had been waiting for centuries to be disturbed.
His thoughts slid, inevitably, toward Elowen. He’d thrown himself into this quest for her. That was the bare truth. A pretty woman had looked at him like he mattered and his lizard brain had immediately drafted a heroic fantasy around it. Save the girl, stab some dudes, save the town, earn the kiss. Idiot.
And yet.
Every hour they spent together chipped away at the cardboard version of her he’d built in his head. Behind the calm cleric persona there was someone sharp and stubborn and occasionally petty, someone who made bad jokes when she was exhausted. Someone who had willingly stepped into a dungeon with a madman because she believed in him.
You don’t know her yet, he admitted to himself. Not really. You know facts. Elf. Magic. Female. Hot. Cool under pressure. But you don’t know what she likes for breakfast, or who she was as a teenager, or what she thinks about when she isn’t trying to keep you all alive.
The Rage didn’t like that train of thought. It rumbled uneasily, wanting something simpler: enemies, objectives, clear paths. Not therapy.
He flicked the Codex down to one last category: Known Companions.
Their names listed themselves in tidy rows.
- Doran Ironhaft
- Nars
- Violet Chika
- Elowen Vale
He hesitated, then opened Elowen Vale.
Elowen Vale
Role: Cleric of Totth (Sun Aspect).
Narrative Function: Healer, Moral Compass, Anchor.
Primary Drives:
- Protecting the vulnerable.
- Preserving balance between Sun and Moon.
- Making meaning out of suffering.
Second??ary Drives:[Δ PERMISSIONS]
- [Locked — requires trust.]
Compatibility with Stranger://UNVERIFIED?
- ??High potential for mutual influence.
- High risk?? of mutual// damage.
He closed the entry so fast the text blurred.
Enough. Get your shit together, Greg.
His boots hit the last plate harder than he meant to. The impact made the metal groan. Doran’s head turned slightly, just enough that Greg saw the flicker of watchfulness in his eyes. Not distrust, exactly. More… contingency planning. The look of someone who knew what a berserker losing control could do in a tight space.
Greg couldn’t even be mad. If he’d been in their place, he’d keep a cautious eye on the walking bomb too.
They regrouped on the broadest available support ledge. From there, the Primary Focus was finally close enough to touch with a sword tip: a dense console of stone and metal grown directly from the wall, its surface crawling with glyphs and channels.
His arms ached. His legs ached. The thin thread of hope that had sparked when the Codex acknowledged the reality of everyone around him tangled with the old fear: that he’d screw this up, that his presence here was less “answer to prayer” and more “cat with dynamite in a glass factory.”
The Heart pulsed again, a slow, painful beat. It synced up, for a second, with the thud of his own pulse. The Rage shifted inside him, not roaring this time, just… waiting. Coiled. Watching the same people he was watching, waiting to see what he’d do when the next bad choice presented itself.
?? Black Blood ??
by Vaku