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// Law of Inversion: Level 1
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? Rank: Novice (Divine)
? Description:
A shard of Kethral’s dying fury, crystallized in bone and hatred.
The God of Opposites watched his throne consumed,
his world inverted into shadow, his very essence devoured
to fuel the Shroud’s adaptation. In his final moments,
he pressed one truth into his marrow: “What can be taken can
be turned. What corrupts can be corrupted. Let my rage
become their ruin.” This is not a gift—it is a weapon
forged from a dead god’s spite, and it hungers to unmake what unmade him.
? Effect:
→ Target one inanimate object within 10 meters.
→ Receive a list of inversion options based on object properties and current mastery level.
→ Select one inversion to apply. Effect persists while skill remains active.
→ Available inversions display their attribute cost per second beside each option.
Current Inversion Options:
- Color Spectrum: Invert visual wavelengths
- Gravitational Axis: Reverse up/down orientation
- Material Density: Shift between dense/light states
? Attribute Cost: Variable (displayed per selection)
? Cooldown: 30 seconds after deactivation
? Special Properties:
→ Inversions cannot overlap on the same object
→ Attribute drain continues until deactivation or attribute depletion
→ Forced deactivation if attributes fall below 10%
→ Objects return to their original state upon deactivation
Jack didn’t know where to start. There was so much here. But, even as he wiped his sweaty palms against his muddied trousers, he started to parse through the sheer power and versatility of this skill and put them into their disparate parts.
I can cast this on anything inanimate, he mentally listed. It seems that the bigger or more complex the object, the higher the stat cost. I can choose from three effects. Color inversion, gravity inversion, and density inversion. Five bucks says that each of those costs a different attribute type, but I’ll have to test it all out to be sure.
Absently, Jack rubbed at the new tattoo on his right hand.
None of what I invert is permanent. But that’s just at level 1! Who knows what I’ll be able to do!
“I need to test this all, but I need a safe place to do it,” Jack said, his mind set.
As quietly as he could, he descended to the street below and made his way to the Western gate. It took longer than he would’ve liked, as several bleeder patrols were on the prowl tonight. But steadily, he made his way there.
I’ll have to convince them to open the gates for me, Jack realized.
He briefly considered racing to the secret tunnel in the slums, but thought better of it. It would take forever, and there was every chance he would get caught up in another fight. No, he needed to get out of this city as quickly as possible.
Jack stepped out of the shadows and walked toward the gate. There was a gatehouse set into the wall to the right, and several guards lounged around the thick, steel-studded doors of the gate. Above, the large spikes of an iron grate were peeking out.
“Oy! Who in their bloody minds is daft enough to break curfew?!” a gruff voice demanded, and Jack caught sight of a large-bellied soldier getting up from a small chair.
He kept walking forward.
Pretend like you belong. Pretend like you belong! He kept repeating.
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“I have an urgent message for Olric Stormbrow,” Jack said quickly, cursing his lack of preparation.
The guard’s beady eyes narrowed. “Ya don’t look like a courier. Jim, he look like a courier? Ain’t got no right and proper sash of a squire neither.”
“Got that right, Moose,” Jim said. “I’d say we got ourselves a rat. Or a pig-lover, if ya smell my curry.”
Moose turned and frowned at his fellow guard. “Smell my–Jim! What have I told ya about tryin’ out new idioms? What in the blazin’ balls of the Blight King does ‘smell my curry’ even mean?!”
At the mere mention of Emberbone’s title, Jack’s entire body went rigid, and he could feel bony fingers wrapped around his neck. It was for just an instant, but he couldn’t stop the shiver that spread over his skin.
Jim shrugged. “Felt better than sayin’ ‘catch my drift.’ Curry is much stronger, denotin’ how my insinuation from earlier was more obvious than the typical subtext employed in a conversation at this hour.”
Moose pinched his brow. “Ardent, save me.” He turned away from his friend. “Boy, ya got any proof ya are who ya say ya are?”
“Sure!” Jack said, handing him his papers.
He waited as the two guards perused his documents. All the while, he considered every option he had at his disposal.
I can use Smoldering Fists, or I can overclock my dexterity and strength to jump up the wall. It’s what, thirty feet high? Maybe I could do a wall run? Or maybe I should use my new skill?
“Wait here,” the man said, shoving the documents back into Jack’s grip.
Jim remained while Moose stormed back toward the gatehouse. And with each step, Jack’s uncertainty grew.
They know.
He wasn’t sure how, but somehow they knew who he was. It could’ve been the nobles he fought, Sathem or Derrick’s description of him, or perhaps even Yelena’s work against him. Whatever it was, it would be best if they forgot he was ever here.
“You know what? I can wait to contact Olric in the morning,” Jack said, taking a step back.
“Oh, I wouldn’t go anywhere, cupcake,” Jim replied, leveling his spear toward Jack. “You’re in deep sand, you are.”
“Deep sand?” Jack whispered, but decided now wasn’t the time to ask. Instead, he whispered, “Activate Skill: Law of Inversion.”
His eyes flashed, and suddenly the entire world was outlined. At least, everything in 10 meters was. Thin white lines rimmed every object, but as his gaze fought to make sense of it all, his vision shifted slightly. Despite the nauseating amount of information, he noticed that whatever he focused on would be highlighted with white and black lines.
He focused, deciding on what he should do. His right hand itched, and he glanced down to see it glowing.
“What’s that ya got there, Mr. Thatcher?” Jim demanded, pointing his spear at Jack’s chest.
Jack’s vision swept over the guard. True to the skill’s description, he couldn’t select Jim at all, nor were there any lines around him. But there were for his armor and his weapons.
He made his choice.
[Item selected. Choose an effect:]
[Color inversion: 2 Perception/second]
[Gravity inversion: 3 Strength/second for up | 2 Strength/second for down]
[Density inversion: 2 Resilience/second for lightness | 3 Resilience/second for heaviness]
Jack chose gravity, because why the hell not?
Despite the danger, his mind was reminded of a classic line from a movie he both loved and hated. And as the skill activated, he whispered to himself.
“Down is easy. Up is hard.”
Jim’s spear rocketed upward, and Jack could immediately feel the drain on his strength. That hardly mattered, as Jim, in his shock, forgot to let go of the weapon.
“Whoa!” the guard shouted, but Jack was already on the move.
After approximately 4 seconds, he cancelled the skill. A moment later, Jim’s body crashed into the ground, his armor causing a loud clatter that alerted all the nearby guards.
Sprinting toward the gate, he had a moment of inspiration.
“Help! Help! An invisible thing attacked Jim!” Jack yelled.
That got their attention.
All the guards, including Moose, rushed from the gate to help their friend, swords and spears raised against their invisible foe.
“Thanks, lad,” one of the soldiers said as he passed.
“Stay right there! I’ll deal with you when we’re done!” Moose ordered over his shoulder at Jack.
“Yeah, right,” Jack replied under his breath, turning to the barred gate.
It was currently sealed shut by a massive metallic crossbeam nestled inside of half a dozen iron sockets.
Jack cast Law of Inversion again, this time on the crossbeam.
[Item selected. Choose an effect:]
[Color inversion: 5 Perception/second]
[Gravity inversion: 10 Strength/second for up | 8 Strength/second for down]
[Density inversion: 15 Resilience/second for lightness | 6 Resilience/second for heaviness]
Jack cursed. His resilience was at 37 now, but that still only meant he had approximately two seconds before the skill would cancel on him automatically. He’d have to be quick. He put his hands on the bar, which rested about chest height for him. Then, straining with all his might, he began to lift the bar. It was like trying to lift a car. Even with all his strength, he would not be able to do it on his own.
But Jack was not doing this on his own.
He confirmed his choice, and instantly the weight of the metal crossbeam inverted. His pool of Resilience dropped so quickly he thought he was going to vomit, but as he was already shoving the bar up and away with all his might, the new weight made it child’s play.
The skill cancelled right as he managed to lift it off its hooks, and the twenty-foot beam crashed to the ground. Shouts rose from behind him, and he knew that the guards had figured out his ruse. He strained against the left gate door, his back muscles screaming at him in protest.
“Wait!” one guard yelled.
“GET THAT BASTARD!” Moose roared.
Jack pushed harder. The door creaked open.
One inch. Two.
He overclocked whatever was left of his Strength, but it was like shoving against a mountain.
A spear slammed into the weathered wood just inches from his right ear. Jack ducked and gave the door one final push.
With a yell, he squeezed through the crack and was running as soon as he got out. His boots ate up the roughly packed dirt road, but the moment he was beyond the torchlight of the ramparts, he dove into the tall grass.
He didn’t slow down.
Lit by starlight and the crescent moon above, he shot toward Olric’s farm, uncaring of the cuts and nicks he was accumulating amongst the weeds. Somewhere in his mind, he noticed that he got another notification, but the system appeared to consider his mad dash to qualify as combat, as it stayed minimized in his vision.
Jack reached the gates to Olric’s farm, and only then did he exit his sprint. What he found sent a fresh wave of dread through his chest.
When he’d left this morning, the place had been serene and secure. Now, corpses littered the ravaged ground, trailing from the gate all the way up to the front steps of the farmhouse. Green blood was everywhere, and Jack counted at least fifty orcs in total.
But it was the red blood staining the porch and the crimson handprint against the shattered doorframe that stole Jack’s breath. And there, partially inside his own home, was Olric’s body.
He wasn’t moving.
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