Running implied effort, and effort required a friction coefficient that simply didn’t exist on the brand-new surface of the world.

  Kage skated.

  The Alpha Cinder-Maw, a beast capable of swimming through solid ash as if it were water, was currently experiencing a biological error 404. It thrashed on the vitrified glass, its jagged fins screeching like nails on a chalkboard, scraping for purchase in vain. It had evolved to swim in ash. On the solid, super-cooled silica, it was just a dying fish on a countertop.

  Kage pushed off his back foot, sliding effortlessly across the obsidian mirror. He let the momentum carry him, turning his body into a projectile, saving his Awen for variables.

  The Cinder-Maw snapped its jaws, but Kage was already gone, sliding past the kill zone in a low crouch.

  He breathed in. The familiar, rhythmic feel clicking into place, his pulse already syncing to the beat of the attack steps.

  Slide. Slide. Strike.

  (Slide) "Weak-"

  He whipped Mumyo out in a flat arc. The blade painted the air like a void ink. It bit into the soft, exposed underbelly of the shark.

  "-en."

  [Weaken applied. Target receives 30% more damage.]

  [Synergy Achieved. Rhythmic Flow x1 (+2 Dmg, +2% Speed)]

  (-120 HP)

  Kage pivoted on his heel, using the lack of friction to spin 360 degrees without losing speed, turning his momentum into centrifugal force for the second swing. The Cinder-Maw roared, trying to roll over, but its massive bulk just slid further away, banking off a crystallized plume of smoke that acted as a wall.

  Kage closed the distance. The creature was an Elite, huge health pool, high damage output, but kept trying to 'dive' into ground that was now harder than steel.

  Kage dissected it.

  It was rhythmic butchery. Every time the beast lunged, Kage slid perpendicular to the vector. Left. Right. Back.

  (Step) "Stri-" (Thrust) "-ke"

  (-198 HP)

  Five stacks. Seven stacks.

  The Operator watched the numbers fly. The Artist watched the dance. For a brief moment, the two halves of his brain piloted the chassis in tandem. Kage felt the familiar burn in his rotator cuff, the physical cost of stopping his own arm when the weightless sword refused to provide recoil, but he ignored it.

  The shark gave one last, desperate heave, its maw glowing with internal heat. A breath attack.

  Kage simply bent his knees, dropped flat to the glass, and slid directly under the beast’s jaw as the stream of liquid fire erupted over his head.

  He thrust upward. Mumyo’s blade reverted to full steel density the microsecond it touched the beast’s heart.

  [Critical Hit! -350 HP]

  The Cinder-Maw spasmed, stiffened, and then collapsed onto the glass with a wet, heavy slap.

  Kage skidded to a halt ten feet away, standing up and shaking the phantom weight off his sword arm.

  [Experience Gained: 980 EXP]

  Kage exhaled, staring at the notification, his eyebrow twitching. He opened his interface, staring at the experience bar.

  Level 17 (5882/7009)

  "You have to be kidding me," he muttered to the empty air.

  That was two more mobs of this caliber.

  He opened his inventory and looked at the [Treads of the Ashen Dune]. The icon was greyed out. The red text [Requires Level 18] mocked him.

  He walked over to the corpse, quickly looting the remains.

  [Loot Acquired: Cinder-Glass (Common) x3]

  [Loot Acquired: Ash-Shark Tooth (Uncommon) x1]

  [Loot Acquired: 42 Silver]

  Trash. Well, possible crafting materials, but currently trash to his immediate needs.

  He turned his attention to the other problem in the room.

  Val was sitting against the petrified base of a smoke-tree, clutching his left arm. He looked like a gust of wind would knock him over. His coat was a disaster of patches, and his glasses were cracked.

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  "Are we... is it safe?" Val asked, his voice trembling. He didn't look at Kage; he was staring at the dead shark, frantically scribbling into his iron-bound book. "Subject Alpha-Nine has been pacified. Notation: Violence was excessive. Effective, but excessive."

  Kage walked over, sheathing Mumyo. "The only excessive thing here is the respawn timer on these things. You took a hit."

  Val flinched as Kage loomed over him. "A graze. A scratch. A minor narrative damage."

  "Right… Let me see."

  Kage knelt. He wasn't doing this out of the kindness of his heart: he categorized Val as a designated asset. He was probably this Zone's NPC quest giver. If the asset broke, the map to the loot disappeared.

  Val hesitated, then pulled his hand away from his bicep.

  Kage paused.

  The sleeve of Val's coat was soaked with a thick, viscous black fluid. It looked like crude oil mixed with glitter. It dripped onto the pristine glass Kage had created, sizzling quietly as it ate into the surface.

  Kage sniffed. The scent of oak galls and binding glue hit him instantly.

  "Ink," Kage whispered.

  "Sorry," Val said apologetically, trying to wipe the black fluid on his coat, only smearing it further. "I bleed when I forget. Or when things make me forget."

  "Hold still."

  Kage raised his hand. He wasn't a healer, but he had the [Growth] keyword.

  He focused, pulling up the necessary Awen.

  Title: A Formatting Correction.

  "Upon this [Target] mending flows," Kage intoned, the words vibrating with power, "As [Growth] restores against the blows."

  [-100 Awen]

  The system acknowledged the cost. Green light, the color of rapid cell division and aggressive flora, spiraled down Kage’s arm and washed over Val’s wound.

  It hit the black liquid and did... nothing.

  It was like pouring water onto a duck’s back. The magic simply slid off, pooling on the ground without interacting with Val’s tissue.

  [Invalid Target Type.]

  [The intent of your Growth does not match the target type.]

  Kage stared at the prompt. "Invalid target type," he read aloud, his voice flat.

  Val adjusted his spectacles, looking embarrassed. "Ah. Yes. I imagine that wouldn't work. I'm not... I don't think I grew."

  Kage rocked back on his heels, analyzing the NPC. Not biological.

  "So you're a construct," Kage said. "A Golem? No, Golems are earth and stone. You're... well, what are you?"

  "I am the Curator," Val said, as if that explained the taxonomy. He looked at his arm, which was still dripping ink. He pulled a strip of parchment from his pocket (actual paper) and slapped it over the wound. The paper absorbed the ink, turned black, and hardened instantly like a scab.

  "That's better," Val sighed.

  Kage watched the process with a critical eye. He heals with paper. He bleeds ink.

  "Alright, Curator," Kage said, standing up. "Debrief time. What is this zone? Why is everything made of ash, and why do the trees look like frozen smoke?"

  He needed the lore. If he understood the "Truth" of the zone, his damage bonus from Narrative Authority would kick in. He could also potentially receive new keywords, quests, and Conceptual Materials.

  Val looked up, his eyes bright behind the cracked lenses. "This? It's sediment. Precipitate."

  "Precipitate of what?"

  "Of forgetting," Val said, tapping the ground. "The... the big fire. The one that..."

  Val froze.

  "The one that..." Kage prompted.

  "The one... the one... the one..."

  Val’s face went slack. His mouth kept moving, but the audio file seemed to be corrupted.

  Of course, Kage thought, watching the NPC stick on the syllable. It wouldn't be as easy as asking an NPC when there was a 700 ART lock.

  "The one... safe path is to the ridge," Val finished abruptly, his voice dropping an octave and losing all emotion. He blinked, and the light came back into his eyes. "We must keep moving. Stagnation invites the Critics."

  Kage said flatly. "You just rebooted."

  "I… what? I don't know what that means," Val said, standing up unsteadily. "But if we stay here, the Censors will find us. They hate typos. We are typos, you and I."

  Kage crossed his arms. "I'm a paying customer. And you're dodging the question."

  "What question?" Val asked, puzzled. He grabbed his book, clutching it to his chest. "No matter, I’m running dry. The letters... they’re getting thin. If I run out of ink, I disappear."

  He pointed a black-stained finger toward the jagged shelf of rock hanging above them.

  Kage looked.

  The Ashenvale Foothills rose in a tortured slope toward a flat, stark plateau. It wasn't the summit, but a massive shelf of obsidian that jutted out over the deeper, darker valleys below.

  "The Scribe's Overlook," Val whispered. "The Ink-Well is there. The blood bubbles up before it flows down to become… become… become…" He repeated the phrase a few more times before continuing. "I need the ink to refill."

  Kage processed this.

  Translation: The Scribe's Overlook = High Level Zone / Dungeon Entrance.

  Translation: Ink-Well = Legendary Material / Unique Quest Item.

  "You want me to take you up there," Kage stated.

  "I can find the path," Val pleaded. "I can show you the veins if you want something extra. But I can't fight the Censors. I'm just... I'm just the footnotes."

  [Quest Alert: The Curator's Request]

  Grade: Uncommon

  Objective: Escort Val to the 'The Scribe's Overlook' at the summit of the Titan's Visage.

  Condition: If Val's [Cohesion] bar reaches zero, he dissolves.

  Reward: Access to the [Titan’s Tear] Nodes. +10,000 EXP.

  Accept? [Y/N]

  Kage looked at the notification. A classic, boring, most staple escort quest in any RPG game. But he flagged it as worthwhile.

  Access to a node called "Titan's Tear." That sounded expensive. The exp was also massive; it made sense, given the zone's recommended level.

  "Fine," Kage said, dismissing the window. "I'll get you up the mountain."

  "Thank you," Val nodded vigorously. "Preservation of the text is priority one."

  A loud CRACK echoed beneath them.

  Kage looked down. The glass floor was spiderwebbing. The Haiku’s truth was fading; the System was reasserting the zone’s default physics.

  "Time to move," Kage grumbled.

  The glass shattered into dust.

  Instantly, Kage dropped six inches. The ash swallowed his feet. The weight of his own body slammed back into reality, and it felt like stepping into wet concrete.

  "Ugh." Kage grimaced, lifting a leg. He looked up to tell Val to wait.

  "Okay, stick close to me, the movement speed is..."

  He stopped.

  Val was ten feet ahead of him.

  Val walked across the surface of the ash as if it were a hardwood floor. The grey dust swirled around his ankles, not dragging him down, but caressing the hem of his tattered coat. It looked like the ash was merging with him.

  Val turned back, his spectacles glinting. He looked perfectly at home in the desolation, like a ghost haunting his own house.

  "The veins are this way," Val called out, his voice carrying clearly despite the wind. "Step lightly, the ground is sensitive."

  Kage gritted his teeth, yanked his leg out of the drift, and slammed it down for the next step.

  "Sensitive," Kage muttered. "Yeah, sure."

  He began the slog, one heavy step at a time, watching the ink-stained ghost dance up the mountain.