The System Is Useless

The scent of rain still clung to the air, thick and earthy, as water dripped from the leaves and branches. The storm had gone, but it left behind a world soaked in its fury—a soft mist curling over the ground, veiling the horizon in ghostly gray. Puddles reflected the light of dawn, rippling as the first breezes swept through the land. Everything felt heavy, from the sodden earth to the muted sky, as if the storm had wrung all the life out of Oran.

-Wendy Pryne-

Another storm had passed, but Wendy couldn't shake the feeling that something was brewing. She sat on the porch of her family's home, her chin resting on her knees as she watched the stars. The Oaken household was visible in the distance, its lights glowing softly against the darkness.

Wendy had always liked Felix. He was quiet and thoughtful, so different from the other boys in the village. But lately, he'd seemed… distant. Distracted. Not simply due to his anticipation towards the fact that he's at the age of integration. There was something else. And now, with the arrival of that mysterious baby, she felt like something was pulling him even further away.

"Wendy, come inside!" her mother called from the doorway. "Breakfast is ready!"

"Coming, Mom!" Wendy replied, standing reluctantly. She cast one last glance at the Oaken house, a strange sense of foreboding settling over her.

-Karl Edarin-

Karl stood in the woods just beyond his family's property, his hands trembling as he held the wooden practice sword. He'd been trying to perfect the techniques his father had taught him. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't shake the feeling of inadequacy.

Felix Oaken. The name grated on him like nails on a chalkboard. Felix was everything Karl wanted to be—strong, skilled, respected. And since the arrival of that "Leon," Felix seemed even more important, as if fate itself had chosen him for something great.

Karl gritted his teeth, swinging the practice sword with renewed vigor. I'll prove myself. I'll show everyone that I'm just as good as Felix. The thought fueled him, driving him to keep training long into the night.

-Leia Edarin-

Leia sat cross-legged on her bedroom floor, her favorite doll clutched tightly in her arms. She'd heard the adults talking about the storm, about Leon. The way they spoke about him made her curious.

She glanced out the window, her gaze fixed on the Oaken house. Part of her wanted to talk to him again, to see if the stories were true. But another part of her felt afraid, as if the boy was more than he seemed.

She would have plenty of time to get to know him anyway. As he will be admitted to the school she goes to, in the same grade and class. Despite being 3 years younger than she was, he displayed brilliance that awed her.

With a sigh, Leia climbed into bed, pulling the covers up to her chin. Her dreams that night were filled with strange visions—bright lights, swirling shadows, and piercing white eyes staring right at her.

* * *

The courtyard was quiet, save for the rustling of the wind through the trees. Garthem stood with his sword in hand, its edge dulled for sparring, but his stance was as sharp as ever. Opposite him, Felix adjusted his grip on a smaller blade, determination etched into his youthful face.

"You ready, boy?" Garthem asked, his voice firm but laced with pride.

Felix nodded, his gaze locked onto his father. "Always."

Garthem lunged first, a testing strike aimed at Felix's side. The boy sidestepped with surprising ease, deflecting the blow with a quick flick of his blade.

The courtyard hummed with the faint rustling of leaves as Garthem and Felix circled one another. The splashing mud sticking to their clothes and skin, slowing them down. Garthem's stance was relaxed yet unyielding, his dull blade steady in his grip. Felix's knuckles whitened around his smaller sword, his focus sharp.

"Good speed," Garthem said, sidestepping the attack and countering with a strike aimed at Felix's shoulder.

The boy barely managed to parry, the force of the blow sending him stumbling. But instead of retreating, Felix wiped his face and pressed forward, unleashing a flurry of strikes. Garthem's blade moved like a shield, blocking every attempt with infuriating ease.

"You're wasting energy," Garthem said as their swords locked. Felix gritted his teeth and broke away, his chest heaving.

Felix didn't respond, his mind racing. He shifted his stance, trying to mimic the fluidity of his father's movements. He feinted left, then darted right, his blade arcing toward Garthem's ribs.

This time, Garthem's block came a fraction slower. Felix's sword skimmed the edge of Garthem's tunic before the older man twisted, forcing Felix to retreat or be caught in a counterstrike.

"Not bad," Garthem said, his smirk faint.

Felix narrowed his eyes, adrenaline burning through his veins. "I'm not done."

The boy darted in again, pushing himself faster, his strikes sharper. Garthem's parries became more deliberate, the gap between their movements closing. For a moment, it felt like Felix had found his rhythm, driving his father back with every swing.

But Garthem suddenly shifted, sweeping Felix's blade aside and stepping in close. Felix barely ducked the pommel strike aimed at his temple, rolling away and springing back to his feet.

Their gazes locked, the faintest hint of respect flickering in Garthem's eyes.

"You're learning," Garthem said.

"And you're slipping," Felix shot back, emboldened by his near-success.

Garthem's smirk deepened, his grip tightening on his blade. "Let's see about that."

The clash resumed, the sounds of steel and heavy breaths filling the courtyard. This time, Garthem pushed harder, his strikes faster and more precise. Felix struggled to keep up, but determination burned in his chest.

A faint misstep—Felix's footing faltered as his heel slid. Garthem capitalized instantly, disarming him with a sharp twist. Felix's sword splatted on the wet ground, but he didn't fall back.

Instead, he lunged forward barehanded, grabbing hold of Garthem's tunic and yanking him off balance. Garthem staggered, his sword raised in instinct, and Felix drove his shoulder into his father's chest.

They both went tumbling to the ground, their swords forgotten in the mire.

Garthem was the first to rise, his hand gripping Felix's arm and pulling him up as well. The boy's breath was ragged, his face flushed, but his eyes glinted with triumph.

"Not bad," Garthem said again, his voice quieter this time.

Felix stared up at him, unwilling to let the moment slip. "You didn't win."

"No," Garthem admitted, brushing the dust from his tunic. "But neither did you."

The tension lingered between them, the fight unfinished. Garthem's gaze softened, and he nodded toward the fallen blades.

"Pick it up. If you think you're ready, let's finish this."

Felix hesitated, his heart pounding. His father's challenge echoed in his mind as he stepped toward his sword, the weight of what lay ahead pressing on his shoulders.

* * *

Felix sighed. 'So close.' His whole body ached but his mind was focused on that loss.

Covered in mud, sometimes swallowing the sludge in his attempts to fill his lungs. He fell in exhaustion after a protracted match with his father.

Now clean inside the gym, he busied himself with cleaning his equipment and clothes. Then he froze, eyes dilated at the sound he'd been waiting for for months.

[Integration Complete]

* * *

"YEEESSSS!!!!!"

Everyone in the house turned towards the sound. Each with different feelings; confusion, pride, and dire worry. Leon asked Tanya, "Ah! Is it that system integration thing he can't stop talking about?"

"I think so. Nothing else would make him so excited." Tanya rolled her eyes. 'I wonder what Trace he ended up with.'

Selia gripped her hands. This was an event that, although wasn't guaranteed to happen, she expected. After all, the offspring of those Integrated have heightened odds of becoming Integrated themselves.

Garthem, in a hurriedly tied towel and still dripping from the bath, was excitedly rushing to the first floor, a wet hallway in his wake. "Don't start reading without me boy!"

He knew that a person's status was only visible to them, but was too excited and tired to think clearly.

* * *

[STATUS]

Name: Felix Oaken

Rank: Mortal

Soul: Inferior

Race: Human

Strength: 3

Dexterity: 4

Vitality: 3

Perception: 4

Aspects: Swordsman(F)

Skills: None

Traits: Shadow of Resolve