The System

Caelen's apartment was modest but surprisingly spacious. The furniture was plain—functional rather than decorative—and everything seemed chosen for its utility rather than style. A quiet hum of minimalism filled the air. The apartment included an office, a bedroom, two bathrooms, a kitchen, and a living area. Despite its neatness, an almost tangible sense of isolation clung to the space, as if it rarely played host to company.

The dull white front door rattled before swinging open, and Caelen stepped inside, gesturing for Malphas to follow. His silhouette seemed to carry authority, but his movements were relaxed, almost casual.

"Welcome to my home—or, well, your home too, for the next few months," Caelen announced, his tone deliberately easygoing.

Malphas lingered at the threshold, staring wide-eyed at the space before him. His gaze swept across the furniture, the polished floors, and the walls unblemished by grime or decay. He took a hesitant step inside, his boots echoing softly.

"This… this is where you live?" Malphas asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Yeah. Why?" Caelen replied, turning to face him.

"It's... clean," Malphas said, almost accusingly. His wide eyes darted to the ceiling as if expecting it to crumble. "It doesn't smell like blood or... anything bad."

Caelen frowned, crossing his arms. "You're surprised it's clean?"

"I mean… yeah?" Malphas admitted, his voice tinged with disbelief. "Back home, a place like this would be... I don't know, forbidden. Or a trap. It's too... nice."

Caelen studied him for a moment, his brow furrowing. Then, with a small sigh, he turned and headed toward the living area. "You've got some adjusting to do, kid."

Malphas shuffled after him, his head swiveling to take in every detail like an animal exploring a new den. His eyes locked onto the couch—a plush, inviting piece of furniture that seemed impossibly soft. He moved toward it with unsteady steps, his fingers twitching as though to test its texture.

Before he could touch it, a firm hand clamped down on his shoulder, halting him mid-step.

"Hold up," Caelen said sharply.

"What?" Malphas asked, blinking up at him.

"You're not touching anything until you're cleaned up," Caelen said firmly.

Malphas tilted his head, confusion flickering across his face. "Cleaned up?"

"You're filthy," Caelen said bluntly. "No offense, but you stink like a battlefield."

Malphas sniffed at his sleeve experimentally, his nose wrinkling slightly. "I don't smell anything."

Caelen pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering under his breath before steering Malphas toward one of the bathrooms.

The bathroom was pristine, a stark contrast to the battered and grimy spaces Malphas was used to. The tiled walls reflected the fluorescent light and a faint scent of lavender hung in the air.

Caelen filled the bathtub, testing the water's warmth with his hand. "All right, kid. Clothes off. Get in."

Malphas hesitated, his brow furrowing. "Why would I get in there?"

"To clean yourself," Caelen replied, exasperated.

"I don't see how sitting in water does anything," Malphas muttered, crossing his arms.

Caelen sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Trust me on this. It'll make sense once you're in."

Reluctantly, Malphas obeyed, stripping down and stepping into the tub. He flinched at the warmth, his muscles tensing.

"It's... hot," he murmured, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

"That's the point. Now, use this," Caelen said, handing him a bar of soap. "Rub it on your skin to wash off the dirt."

Malphas turned the soap over in his hands, his expression skeptical. "And this... makes you clean?"

"Yes. And don't eat it," Caelen added, his tone deadpan.

"Why would I eat it?" Malphas asked, genuinely baffled.

"You'd be surprised," Caelen muttered under his breath, rolling up his sleeves and moving to wash Malphas's hair. As he worked, his eyes caught the jagged scar running across the boy's back. He paused, his hand hovering above it for a moment.

'A normal weapon wouldn't leave a mark like that,' Caelen thought. 'Just what kind of hell did this kid come from?'

Deciding against asking, Caelen continued in silence, the sound of water splashing filling the room.

Clean and dressed in oversized but fresh clothing, Malphas sat cross-legged on the couch. The bath had been an experience he wasn't entirely sure he liked—pleasantly warm yet overwhelming like it stripped away something vital. Still, his skin felt strange, almost raw in its new cleanliness.

Caelen approached, holding a steaming mug of tea in one hand and a small, rectangular device in the other. He handed the mug to Malphas, who eyed it suspiciously.

"It's tea," Caelen explained, taking a sip from his own. "Drink it. It won't kill you."

Malphas took a tentative sip, his face screwing up slightly at the unfamiliar taste, though he didn't spit it out. "Bitter," he muttered.

"You'll get used to it," Caelen said, settling into the armchair opposite him. He set the device on the table between them and tapped its surface. The screen lit up with symbols and numbers, their glow casting faint shadows on Malphas's face.

"What is that?" Malphas asked, leaning forward, his curiosity piqued.

"This," Caelen said, gesturing to the screen, "is how you track yourself."

"myself?" Malphas echoed, frowning.

Caelen tapped the screen again, and a chart appeared, listing categories like Strength, Agility, Endurance, and more. Each had a numerical value beside it.

"Think of it as a way to measure yourself—your physical and supernatural abilities, your skills, even your progress," Caelen explained. "It's tied to the system that sorta governs this world."

Malphas leaned closer, his eyes narrowing. "A system? Like... rules?"

"Sort of. It's more like a framework. Everyone's connected to it. It keeps things... organized," Caelen said, choosing his words carefully.

Malphas's gaze remained fixed on the screen, his expression a mix of awe and skepticism. "And this... system? It's in me too?"

"Yeah," Caelen replied, his tone matter-of-fact. "You've probably seen parts of it already. Notifications, maybe?"

"Notifications?" Malphas asked, his brow furrowing.

"You know, those little messages that pop up in your vision sometimes?" Caelen said, mimicking a square with his fingers.

Malphas thought for a moment, then nodded slowly. "I've... heard a voice before. But I didn't think much of it."

"That's your system. You're in the first stage, where it's just a guide. Once you activate it fully, you'll get access to everything—resonance, tasks, items, stats, the works."

"How do I activate it?" Malphas asked, his interest piqued.

"Close your eyes," Caelen instructed. "Focus, and call out for it. Say something like 'System open.'"

Malphas hesitated but did as he was told. "System open."

A voice echoed in his mind:

[System has now been opened.]

[Welcome, Fateweaver 'Malphas Darkwood.']

Malphas's eyes shot open as a holographic screen materialized before him. His mouth hung slightly open in amazement.

"I see it!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with wonder.

"Good," Caelen said with a small smile. "Now dry your hands and come eat."