Deception

Lorne sat in the dimly lit lounge, the holographic communicator pulsing faintly before him. The air was thick with the scent of incense, a lingering remnant of whatever ritualistic ambiance his employer enjoyed. He was leaning back, one arm slung over the couch, but his mind was anything but at ease. The conversation he had with Sol still lingered, gnawing at his thoughts like an unsolved riddle.

The communicator flickered, and then the soothing yet authoritative voice of the woman on the other end filled the room. "Lorne. I assume you have something for me."

Lorne exhaled through his nose, rubbing his temple before leaning forward. "Yeah. The kid's sharper than I expected. I tried to probe him, see what he was about, but he didn't give me an inch."

A brief pause. "That's not surprising. Give me the details."

Lorne nodded, gathering his thoughts. "He's not just playing a part—he's good. Knows how to flip his demeanor like a damn switch. Friendly one second, unreadable the next. I pushed him on why people are looking at him, what he wants, and he just shut it down. The moment I asked what he was after, his mood shifted entirely. He told me—no, warned me—that being too curious is dangerous."

Another pause. "Interesting choice of words. Do you believe it was a threat?"

Lorne smirked bitterly. "That's the thing. It wasn't. He didn't have to threaten me. It felt like a fact, like he knew something I didn't. And then—" Lorne hesitated before sitting up straighter. "—he left me with a cryptic message: Chasing ghosts too long, and you might just find yourself haunted."

Silence followed. The weight of his words hung in the air, heavy even through the communicator. Finally, the woman responded, her tone more contemplative than before. "A poetic way of telling you to back off."

Lorne shook his head. "No. It was more than that. It was a warning, but it also felt like... a promise. Like he was telling me that if I kept digging, something would happen. And then, he just—vanished. His body was so seamless I didn't even realize he wasn't really there until it was too late."

The woman hummed in thought. "This boy is more dangerous than I anticipated. Asha was right to be wary. But he's also valuable. A puzzle like this doesn't just appear in Luminara for no reason. The question is—who, or what, brought him here?"

Lorne rubbed his chin. "Want me to keep watching him?"

A soft chuckle from the other end. "No, Lorne. You've done enough for now. Keep your distance. He's already noticed you, and the last thing we want is for him to turn that warning into reality. Let him think we've backed off. That will tell us more than any direct approach."

Lorne exhaled, standing up and stretching. "Understood. But I have to say—whatever game this kid is playing, he's a hell of a lot better at it than most."

The communicator flickered again as the woman's voice softened into something unreadable. "Then we'll just have to make sure we play better."

The call ended, leaving Lorne staring at the empty screen, that lingering sense of unease still curling in his gut.

---

Sol lay sprawled on his bed, staring at the ceiling of his small rented room, one arm resting lazily across his forehead. Peach, his ever-loyal companion, nestled comfortably beside him, tiny paws rising and falling with each slow breath. The low hum of the city beyond the walls was a distant murmur, but inside his mind, everything was deafening.

His thoughts kept circling back to the vision—the god's ascension, the overwhelming presence of something beyond comprehension. He had seen it, felt it, and yet he still didn't understand it. What did it mean for him? Why was he the one to witness it? And more importantly, was there more to see?

Then, there was the Archive. The endless labyrinth of knowledge, knowledge that had somehow deemed him worthy. It had answered his questions, let him step into its halls, and left him with more mysteries than when he started. The weight of everything he learned there pressed against his chest, but so did the excitement. A place like that was invaluable. If he played this right, he could have access to secrets that most would kill for.

But before he could chase any of that, there was the bar. He sighed, rubbing his temples. The damn bar. What was supposed to be an easy job to keep his head down had spiraled into a mess of unwanted attention. Asha, the old man, and now whatever shadows lurked behind them—none of it was part of the plan. He had wanted peace, yet somehow, trouble had followed him like a curse.

Peach let out a soft grunt, pressing against his side as if sensing his frustration. Sol exhaled, rolling onto his side and scratching behind Peach's ear. "I swear, buddy, I don't even have to look for trouble. It just finds me."

The bear let out a low, amused chirp, and Sol couldn't help but chuckle. "Yeah, yeah. I know. Just gotta roll with it, right?"

Sol sat up, stretching out his arms as his mind drifted back to his illusions. The more he used them, the more he realized how insidious they truly were. He could manipulate sight, distort reality, make people question what was real and what wasn't. It was both terrifying and exhilarating. If he wanted to, he could break someone's sense of self entirely, and that idea made him a little uneasy. But at the same time... he was also itching to see what else he could do.

As he mulled over the possibilities, he absentmindedly asked the system, "Got any ideas on how else I could use my illusion affinity?"

A pause, then the system responded in its usual monotone voice. "Your illusion affinity, currently at 15%, has significant potential for both subtle and large-scale applications. Would you like suggestions for deception, utility, or combat scenarios?"

Sol smirked, intrigued. "Let's start with deception and see where it takes me."

The system processed his request before responding. "For deception, your illusion affinity can be used in several ways beyond mere visual manipulation. You can mask not only appearances but also sounds, scents, and even the sense of touch over time. More advanced techniques could involve inducing hallucinations, making individuals believe they are hearing voices or seeing things that do not exist. A refined illusionist can even create false pain or comfort to manipulate perception on a deeper level. However, your affinity rating and understanding of illusions at the moment is too low to affect those with stronger wills. More experience and refinement will be necessary to bypass individuals with high mental resistance."

Sol leaned back, considering the possibilities. "That's... disturbingly useful. What about utility?"

"For utility," the system continued, "your illusions could allow you to bypass security measures by disguising yourself or objects. You could make something appear missing, invisible, or even alter its perceived shape. Additionally, illusions could act as decoys, allowing you to create multiple versions of yourself to confuse enemies or distract pursuers. With refinement, you may develop the ability to layer illusions—making one illusion seamlessly transition into another without detection."

Sol grinned. "Alright, now we're talking. And for combat?"

"In combat, illusions serve multiple roles," the system explained. "They can create openings by forcing an enemy to react to threats that do not exist, cause disorientation by manipulating depth perception, or even instill fear by manifesting the target's worst nightmares. More advanced applications include concealing your movements mid-battle, masking attacks, or overlaying an illusion over yourself that makes it appear as though attacks phase through you."

Sol exhaled slowly, eyes gleaming with newfound excitement. "Damn. That's a lot to work with. Looks like I've barely scratched the surface."

He decided to focus on utility first. If he could refine his ability to manipulate perception for practical applications, it would serve him well in both daily life and potential conflicts. The idea of creating effective disguises, masking objects, and bypassing security without leaving a trace fascinated him. 

As for deception? That was something he planned to practice naturally—on people. Nothing too dangerous, just harmless tricks to test his abilities, gauge how far he could push an illusion before someone noticed, and most importantly, refine the seamless blending of illusions in real time. The best way to master deception was to fool those around him without them ever realizing it."

Sol's communicator buzzed, dragging him out of his focus. He had been deep in training for hours, testing the boundaries of his illusion affinity in his cramped room. The walls stretched endlessly, the ceiling flickered with a field of stars, and the furniture had either vanished entirely or taken on the forms of strange, impossible shapes. Reality itself looked like it was having a stroke.

He sighed, rolling his shoulders as he grabbed the communicator, answering with a lazy drawl. "Yeah, boss?""