System Update Complete.
New traits acquired. Integrating mutations…
A wave of warmth crept over my body, followed by a sudden, jarring clarity. My vision snapped into sharper focus, the dull shadows of the room vanishing as if a fog had been peeled away. The kitchen, moments ago dim and bleak, now looked as if someone had turned on floodlights—only no one had.
I blinked. The lights above me still flickered weakly, unchanged.
But now… I could see everything.
Not just clearly. Perfectly. My sight was vivid in a way that felt unnatural—beyond human. The grime on the tiles, the faint scrape marks from the roach's claws, the individual dust motes swirling in the air like lazy dancers. No… not just dust. Something else.
Tiny glowing motes.
They floated like flecks of light suspended in water—iridescent, shifting colors depending on how I moved. Some clustered in spirals. Others drifted toward the vents like they were being drawn by an invisible tide.
"What the hell…"
I reached out, hesitantly, fingers trembling from the earlier ordeal. One cluster hovered near the countertop, pulsing with a soft azure glow. I held my breath and extended my hand.
The particles shimmered against my skin—but instead of slipping away like smoke, they clung to me. Tingles shot up my fingers, cool and electric.
NeoLink Alert: Unknown particles detected. Potential foreign matter. Would you like to initiate absorption?
My entire body stiffened.
"Absorb?" I muttered under my breath. "Again?"
The taste of roach still lingered on my tongue—metallic, oily, nauseating. For a split second, I considered saying no. I'd just spent the last ten minutes tearing through an insect like a rabid animal. Did I really want another surprise coursing through my nervous system?
But… these weren't physical. They weren't meat. They were light. Energy. And besides, I hadn't exactly seen a Whole Foods nearby.
I took a breath.
"Yes," I whispered.
The moment I said it, the motes scattered into a vapor and vanished—so fast it was like they had never existed at all.
I waited.
Waited for the hunger. The stabbing pain. The impulse to bite something alive.
But nothing happened.
Just silence.
And then—
Analysis Complete.
Unknown Substance Identified: Name — Mana
Description: Mana is the smallest known form of matter, smaller than a quark. It is the foundational building block of all things. Mana contains potential and, when controlled, can be shaped into anything.
I blinked. "You're kidding."
Mana? Like… magic? D&D, elves, spell books?
I stared at the screen, half-expecting it to start quoting Tolkien at me. Instead, the screen faded. A new icon appeared in the corner of my vision—a bell.
Notifications.
Oh. Right. I had disabled those. Back when they were just telling me I was dying of starvation.
I reached out mentally and selected it.
Notification Summary:
Trait Acquired: Enhanced Senses — Increases perception across all seven human senses.
The word seven glitched briefly. It flickered, warped, then reloaded.
Enhanced Senses — Increases perception across all eight human senses.
"Wait, hold on," I whispered. "Eight?"
I didn't even get time to question it.
Trait Acquired: Mana Absorption
Description: User is capable of absorbing ambient mana in the environments.
Due to trait Enhanced Senses, Mana Absorption has evolved into:
Mana Control
Mana Control — Trait identified as 8th human sense.
User can see, absorb, and manipulate mana. Mana can be stored within the body and reshaped through intent and will.
I stared at the hovering interface, stunned.
"So… magic is real?" I muttered. "And it's… data. Of course it is."
I rubbed my temple, trying to make sense of it all. The basis of everything. Potential to become anything.
My mind raced with possibilities.
Could I shoot fireballs? Summon tornadoes? Teleport?
I glanced around the disaster of a kitchen. Mold, broken metal, roach guts.
"Well," I said, standing and brushing the blood and black goo off my hands, "this room could use a deep clean."
I stretched out my hand.
"Water," I said, half-joking, half-hoping.
Nothing happened.
No swirling pool. No glimmering arcane glyphs. Not even a polite error message.
I stood there for a moment, hand still extended, fingers twitching.
"…Seriously"
I let my arm fall with a groan. "Of course. System says I can bend the building blocks of reality, but can't even give me a damp sponge."
I turned, frustrated, and then—
Crack.
A noise.
Not from the kitchen. From the hallway.
I froze. The sound came again—softer this time. A shuffle. A scrape. Something moving.
I wasn't alone anymore.