The journey back home was long and arduous, but calm. The sun was high by the time they started their trek, casting golden beams through the thick trees of the Appalachian Mountains. They trudged through the woods, dragging the heavy trailer laden with their spoils behind them. Despite their exhaustion, spirits remained high. The battle with the lake beast had been brutal, but the camaraderie and laughter that carried them through the day still lingered in the air, even as the hours of walking wore them down.
By the time they reached his valley, the men were covered in sweat and dirt, their clothes torn in places from the rough journey. Yet, a collective sense of accomplishment radiated from the group. They’d faced one of the mountain’s biggest challenges and lived to tell the tale.
The trailer, groaning under the weight of scales, meat, and strange beast materials, was delivered to the hall of beginings. Townsfolk greeted them with a mix of curiosity and admiration, already forming a small crowd to pick through the spoils. But the group had no intention of lingering. They were dead tired, and all any of them wanted was to get home to their families, food, and a soft bed.
Elmore bid farewell to his hunting crew, patting each on the back and promising to regroup once they’d all had time to rest. Brent shot him a quick grin, Ditzy trotting faithfully at his side. The massive pit bull looked as eager to get home as her master. With that, Elmore started the walk up the dirt road toward his house, feeling the weight of the last few days catch up with him in every step.
When he finally pushed open the front door, the warm scent of home greeted him. Ash was in the kitchen, humming quietly to herself as she prepared dinner, her movements graceful and familiar. But the real noise came from the living room, where Edward was perched in front of Elmore’s old computer, the screen glowing with pixelated colors.
Edward, bright-eyed and completely focused, was playing an emulator of a game from Elmore’s own childhood—a game that had somehow survived the changing world, even after so many things had shifted into the magical unknown. The sight brought a tired but affectionate smile to Elmore’s face.
“Well, look at you,” Elmore said, leaning against the doorway with a grin. “What’re ya workin’ on there, bud?”
Edward, barely glancing up, replied with determination, “I’m trying to beat Mario, Dad.”
Elmore chuckled, stepping into the room and ruffling Edward’s hair as he moved to sit beside him. “Ah, Mario. That little plumber gave me more trouble than I’d care to admit back in the day. You gettin’ any closer?”
Edward huffed, concentrating on the screen as Mario dodged an incoming fireball. “Almost. I think I’m close to the last level. I'm stuck on this one painting but I think I can do it I got to get that last star before I can get Bowser”
Elmore smirked, watching for a few minutes, offering playful advice and light teasing as Edward fumbled a few tricky jumps. Ash, wiping her hands on a towel, peeked in from the kitchen with an amused smile, watching the two boys—one big, one little—lost in their game.
As the evening wore on, it grew closer to Edward’s bedtime. Elmore nudged him gently as The familiar scream of Mario falling off a ledge prompting him to get the boys attention.
“All right, kiddo,” Elmore said, standing up and stretching, “time to call it a night. Mario’s been beatin’ you for hours; you’ll need your rest to finally show him who’s boss.”
Edward groaned but didn’t protest too much as Elmore guided him over to his room. Tucking his son in, Elmore leaned down and kissed him on the forehead, brushing the hair out of his eyes. “Sleep tight, buddy.”
Ash came in shortly after, placing a soft kiss on Edward’s cheek as well. “Goodnight, sweetheart. Dream of something fun.”
Edward, his eyes already fluttering closed, mumbled, “Maybe I’ll beat Bowser in my sleep. Then i’ll know how to do him for real.”
“ I bet you will little dude good night.” Elmore chuckled and turned off the light, gently closing the door behind them as they stepped out of the room. For a moment, they stood in the hallway, just listening to the quiet of the house, the peace that only came after a long and exhausting journey.
With Edward in bed, Elmore and Ash settled back downstairs. Dinner was long since finished, but the quiet glow of the television beckoned. They’d picked up a new movie—a fictional take on the strange world they now lived in. It was meant to be a lighthearted adventure, something to take the edge off reality, filled with elves, dwarves, and halflings.
Elmore stretched out on the couch, his tired body sinking into the cushions as Ash curled up beside him. The movie flickered across the screen, a fantasy tale of magic and adventure playing out with overly dramatic characters and colorful settings. Elmore found himself chuckling at the absurdity of it all, especially with how close it sometimes came to their actual lives. The fantastical beasts, the strange abilities—sure, the world had changed, but there was still humor to be found in the differences between fiction and reality.
Ash leaned her head on his shoulder, her soft laughter mixing with his. “It’s almost like they’re trying to tell our story… but with a lot more flair.”
“Yeah,” Elmore agreed, smirking. “Though, I don’t remember meeting any dwarves around here.”
As the movie drew to a close, the fire in the hearth burned low, casting warm, flickering light around the room. With a final stretch, Elmore turned off the TV and glanced at Ash. “Ready to call it a night?”
She smiled, a soft, content look in her eyes. “Yeah, let’s get some shuteye.”
Together, they made their way to their bedroom. The world outside was quiet, the stars visible through the window as they climbed into bed. Elmore let out a long sigh as his head hit the pillow, his body finally giving in to the deep exhaustion that had been building up for days.
Beside him, Ash turned off the bedside lamp, her hand finding his beneath the blankets. “Goodnight, love,” she whispered.
Elmore squeezed her hand, his eyes already closing. “Goodnight, Ash.”
The room faded to darkness, and for the first time in days, Elmore allowed himself to sink into the peaceful embrace of sleep.
______
Elmore awoke to the golden light of morning spilling through the windows, filling the room with warmth and promise. Ash was already up and about, the scent of breakfast drifting through the air. Elmore stretched, feeling the weight of the last few days ease off his shoulders, and made his way to the kitchen. Edward's laughter echoed from the house, a sound that always brought a smile to his face.
In the kitchen, Edward was sitting at the table, syrup smeared on his face as he dug into a stack of pancakes. Ash stood by the stove, turning over bacon with practiced ease, her hair pulled back and her face lit up with a smile.
“Morning, love,” Elmore greeted her, kissing her cheek before sitting down.
“Morning,” she replied, eyes twinkling. “You slept in today.”
“Well-deserved, I think,” he said with a grin, looking over at Edward. “What’s the plan for today, buddy?”
“I’m gonna beat Bowser. I told you I would dream about it!” Edward said through a mouthful of pancakes, his face determined.
Elmore chuckled. “I’m sure you’ll do it.”
They ate breakfast together, sharing stories and laughter, a normal morning in contrast to the harsh world outside their home. After they finished and cleaned up, Elmore kissed them both and made his way out to the backyard—his throne awaited him.
The throne sat atop a large burn pit, dark gray stone forming its base. The skeletal remains of the Swine Lord wrapped around it, the ribs forming the steps, the spine holding up the seat itself, and the massive tusks served as arm rests with the seat right between them back against his skull. Behind the throne stood a lush orchard, rows of apple, peach and other trees that Elmore and Ash had cultivated over the years, offering a peaceful contrast to the brutal nature of the throne itself.
Elmore took his seat, settling between the tusks of the beast, his back against the solid skull. He gazed out at the land before him, feeling the weight of leadership as he did every time he sat here. The burn pit below the throne had long since cooled, the ashes of those that made a terrible mistake almost smoldering under the foundation , but it still served as a reminder of the fires he had endured.
With a deep breath, Elmore summoned his Nexus screen. The interface blinked into view, and as expected, a notification greeted him—he could level up. But first, there was the matter of his level in his Seat Of Power, which had been waiting for his decision for a few years now.
He clicked the icon that had been dormant on his screen for so long, watching as a new menu came to life. Ornate designs framed the screen, and at the top, glowing in bold letters, were the words:
Choose Your Title
Several options appeared before him, though many were grayed out, unreadable as if they required conditions he had yet to meet. However, a few titles were available, and they were no small choices.
---
Chief
A role that fosters deep bonds with your people. As Chief, you will be beloved and trusted by your community. This title is Hereditary, ensuring that leadership passes smoothly to your descendants. Revolts and internal power struggles will be an extreme rarity under your rule, and your people’s loyalty will be near unshakable. While less focused, the Chief leads through unity and tradition, creating a stable, long-lasting legacy.
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---
Mayor
An Elected position, the title of Mayor grants significant control over economic and civic development. You will be able to direct trade, manage taxes, and oversee the growth of your town or city, guiding it toward prosperity. However, your leadership is bound by election cycles, and your rule could be challenged by others during each election. Maintaining your position will require diplomacy and popularity, but the rewards of economic mastery are great.
---
King
The title of King is ,Hereditary, passed down through your bloodline, but it comes with the risk of internal strife. As King, your military might will be enhanced, and your family members will gain strength, increasing their chance to usurp the throne if they believe they are more suited to rule. The King’s reign is one of power and combat, rallying troops in times of war and ensuring the kingdom remains fortified. However, this strength can lead to competition within the family, as the crown may change hands through conflict.
---
Lord
A singular title, Lordship is not bound by blood but by strength. The Lord has absolute control over the land and its people, ruling with full authority. However, this power makes the Lord a target, both from within and from outside forces. If your people grow dissatisfied, they may rise against you, and external enemies will seek to overthrow you. The Lord’s title can only be passed upon death, making it a role of ultimate power but also ultimate risk.
---
Elmore leaned back, his fingers brushing against the bone of the Swine Lord’s tusk as he considered the choices. Each title held its own advantages and dangers, shaping not only how he would lead but also how his descendants might carry on his legacy.
Chief, Mayor, King, or Lord...
The future of his people—and his family—would be determined by this choice.
Elmore sat in the massive throne of bone and stone, the remains of the Swine Lord forming the frame around him. The giant tusks of the beast curved upward, creating a natural enclosure where he sat, his back straight as he contemplated the choices before him. The orchard swayed gently in the wind behind him, and the large burn pit beneath the throne radiated a dark symbolic warmth. His eyes lingered on the floating icons in his Aither Nexus, each one representing a potential future, a different kind of leadership. He was used to fighting, making quick decisions in the heat of battle, but this—this felt weightier, more profound.
The first option, Chief, felt the most familiar, the one that resonated deeply with how he had been leading so far. Chief wasn’t about power or control; it was about trust and love. It spoke of a bond with the people, one rooted in loyalty and mutual respect. As Chief, he’d never have to worry about revolutions or betrayals, not from within. His people would follow him out of admiration and trust. And the title would be passed on to Edward when the time came, ensuring a smooth transition, a legacy of peace for his son to inherit. And maybe if history plays out he may gain the throne back in lives to come.leaving a cold lump in his chest for a moment, he brushed it aside for another time.
The thought of Edward inheriting that mantle warmed him. He wanted his boy to grow up in a stable world, surrounded by people who cared for him. Being Chief would allow him to focus on protecting his home, fostering unity, and creating a safe place for his family and community to thrive. It would be a life of simplicity, of grounding. He wouldn’t need to worry about grand ambitions or expansion—he’d be a protector, a shepherd of his people’s safety and happiness. That idea settled easily in his chest, like a stone sinking into calm water.
But then there was the title of Mayor. Elmore frowned slightly, considering it. Mayor was an elected position, something that meant he’d be beholden to the whims of the people. He imagined himself having to stand for elections every so often, needing to keep the favor of his people in a more... transactional way. That didn’t sit right with him. He wasn’t the kind of leader who wanted to politicize every decision. The constant threat of losing his position through an election cycle sounded exhausting.
Still, there was something appealing about the control it offered over trade and economics. He could shape the community’s growth, direct resources where they were needed, and ensure that his people prospered. But even with that, the thought of always having to prove himself, to be the most popular person in town, grated at him. His people knew him, trusted him because of who he was, not because he gave speeches or made empty promises. And what would that mean for Edward? Would he grow up watching his father constantly having to fight to keep his place, with no guarantee that the leadership would stay in the family? No, Mayor wasn’t the right fit.
King. Now that was a tempting title. A ruler with real power, someone who could not only defend but expand his territory. A King’s rule was hereditary, like Chief, but it came with the promise of strength—military strength. He could see the appeal immediately. With the world growing more dangerous by the day, having a title that strengthened his family’s combat abilities, that gave his people a fighting edge, could be incredibly useful.
But being a King came with its own problems. His family would become stronger, yes, but they’d also become ambitious. A title that gave his children or siblings the potential to overthrow him if they thought they were stronger… Elmore couldn’t imagine living like that. Always looking over his shoulder, wondering if someone in his own bloodline might challenge him. He’d never have peace. And Edward… would he grow up always eyeing the throne, knowing that one day he might have to fight for it? Elmore shook his head. The idea of constant power struggles within his own family was a nightmare. He wanted his son to live in a world of stability, not one where he had to question everyone’s loyalty.
Finally, Elmore considered the title of Lord. Absolute power. Complete control. As Lord, he would be the unquestioned ruler of his territory, with the power to shape his community however he saw fit. The allure of that kind of authority was undeniable. He could see himself shaping the land, ruling with an iron grip if necessary, bending the world to his will. But with that power came incredible risk. If his people grew unhappy, they could rise against him, and if outside forces thought him weak, they would come for him. The title could only be passed through death, which meant that his reign would be one of constant vigilance.
He imagined the weight of that responsibility. Always watching, always guarding against rebellion from within or attacks from outside. There’d be no rest, no peace. And if he died… well, it wouldn’t be passed on easily. The thought of ruling through fear, of forcing his will on people, didn’t sit well with him. He had fought for his people's freedom, not to become some tyrant.
In the end, the decision was clear.
Elmore leaned back in the throne, his fingers tracing the curve of the Swine Lord’s tusks. Chief. It wasn’t the most glamorous choice, nor the one that would give him the most power, but it was the one that felt right. He wanted peace for his people. He wanted Edward to grow up in a world of stability and trust, not one of power struggles or rebellion. He wanted to protect, to foster unity, not rule through fear or ambition.
With a nod, he selected the title of Chief. The screen flickered, locking in the choice, and Elmore felt a sense of peace wash over him. This was the path he was meant to walk—the path of love, trust, and legacy. It was the kind of leadership that didn’t require a crown or a sword, just a steady hand and a heart that beat for the people he loved.
As the choice locked in, the floating screen shimmered for a moment, the title Chief prominently displayed at the top in a bold, earthy font. Elmore's focus narrowed in as a new screen materialized before him, his stats laid out in their familiar form, but now with a new title attached.
---
Level 4: Elmore
Level 3: Chief
- Strength : 15/40
- Endurance : 10/40
- Dexterity : 7/40
- Agility : 8/40
- Intelligence : 20/40
- Resistance : 10/40
- Vitality : 13/40
- Aither : ???
Points Available : 20
---
Elmore studied the screen carefully, noting his progress since the last time he had opened it. His strength had improved, his mind sharper than ever. He’d pushed himself hard these past days, and the Nexus reflected that. He could feel it in his bones—the way his muscles responded quicker, the clarity in his thoughts, the way his body recovered from exhaustion faster than it had ever before.
But now, with the weight of leadership on him, the title of Chief added a new dimension to how he viewed himself. It wasn’t just about raw power or speed anymore. His choices would shape the lives of his people, his family. He thought back to the fight with the lake beast, to the way his men had looked to him for guidance, how they had trusted him to lead them through it. That trust would need to be earned every day, not through force or strategy alone, but through wisdom, patience, and care.
He tapped the screen, feeling the pull of decisions ahead. Twenty points to spend. Where would they serve him best? His mind was already racing through the possibilities.
Strength had served him well in battle, his axe biting deep into the hide of beasts and enemies. He'd need to maintain that physical power, especially if his role as Chief demanded he be more present in the field. Endurance had always been a silent strength, carrying him through long journeys and days of hard labor. He needed more of that, if only to be able to outlast the daily pressures that came with leadership.
Then there was Intelligence —a trait he prized. It had kept him ahead of the curve, allowed him to think through the complexities of the Aither Nexus system, and guide his people not just through brute force, but through strategy. His high intelligence was his edge, but would bolstering it further be too much?
He glanced at Vitality and Resistance. The life force that kept him upright, the shield against the many dangers of this strange new world. Increasing those would make him harder to kill, more capable of shrugging off damage from the world’s increasingly dangerous creatures.
His eyes flicked to Aither . The question marks still hung over it. He didn’t know what that stat meant exactly, only that it would play a role in how he interacted with the Nexus system. A slight smirk crossed his face as he thought about the day he might finally unlock whatever that hidden value held.
Elmore took a deep breath, running through the possibilities. Each stat had its place, each one vital in its own way. He would have to balance the needs of his body and mind, the demands of leadership with the strength of arms required to protect the valley and his family.
After a moment, he tapped the screen, ready to distribute his points.
Elmore leaned back into the throne, the twisted tusks of the Swine Lord framing him like the maw of some ancient beast. He looked at the available points and the stat screen in front of him, weighing the decision he'd already mulled over for some time. It was a risk, he knew that much. But there was something to the idea of pushing his Intelligence to its absolute limit, as far as he could take it right now. There was a drive in him, a hunger to see what would happen if he committed to maxing out one stat, pushing beyond the usual balance others might aim for.
“If I don’t do it now,” he muttered to himself, “I’ll never get there.”
He tapped the screen with finality, dumping all twenty of his available points into Intelligence , watching as the number steadily rose. 25… 30… 35… and finally, 40/40 . A sense of satisfaction settled into his bones as he stared at that perfect number.
Immediately, something shifted in his mind. He felt a sudden rush, as if the world around him expanded in a way it hadn't before. Thoughts no longer came to him one after the other, but instead branched out like rivers splitting into tributaries, each one a new possibility, each one a solution waiting to be tested. It was as though the complexities of every problem he'd ever faced were now laid bare, their intricacies no longer hidden behind the fog of uncertainty.
But it wasn’t just his thoughts that had changed. His eyes sharpened, and for the first time, Elmore saw something in the air—subtle, swirling currents that had always been there but hidden from his sight. It took him a moment to recognize what he was looking at: Aither. Where before it had been invisible, just an idea, now it moved like mist on the wind. Faint tendrils of it curled through the trees, drifted over the dirt beneath his feet. And, more importantly, he felt a strange pull from within himself—an instinctual understanding that he could interact with it.
Experimentally, he reached out, not with his hands but with his mind, drawing on the Aither around him. Slowly, hesitantly at first, it began to shift toward him, gathering like vapor into a pool. He pulled it in with each breath, the way a lung fills with air, only this time, the air was something far more potent. The Aither slipped into him, not quite tangible, yet undeniably there. His chest tightened, but not in pain—more like the thrill of something new.
“Interesting…” Elmore muttered. His hypothesis had been correct. Raising his intelligence this high had unlocked an understanding of Aither he hadn’t even realized was possible. Not just seeing it, but manipulating it, drawing it into himself and, with effort, into his tools. His shotgun, resting against the base of the throne, seemed to hum as the Aither funneled into it.
However, there was a limit. His weapons, after absorbing a certain amount, hit some invisible cap, as if they had reached their equilibrium. They couldn’t take in more Aither without releasing it, and Elmore understood instinctively that overcharging them could have consequences. Still, that didn’t discourage him. He resolved that he would train himself to absorb Aither constantly, with each breath. The process felt slow at first, deliberate, but Elmore was nothing if not tenacious. With his Aither Memory, the technique quickly became second nature.
By the end of the day, it was as effortless as breathing itself. He could pull Aither from the environment and store it within, even if for now it just leaked back out of his pores, the practical use of it was unclear beyond empowering his weapons. Still, the sheer potential was exhilarating. He felt it was like standing on the edge of something vast, a new frontier in his own abilities that he had only just begun to explore.
And even though the weapons had limits, he kept the practice up, ensuring that even if they leaked or lost some of the Aither over time, they would remain charged and ready. He didn’t know what more there was to learn yet, but Elmore knew one thing for certain—he had only just begun to scratch the surface of what his newfound intelligence and connection to Aither could offer.
Smiling to himself, he leaned back in the throne, watching the breeze carry faint traces of Aither through the orchard. The world had just become a whole lot more interesting and in his not so humble opinion beautiful.
