The sterile voice echoed in Elara's mind, a stark contrast to the clatter of loose metal and the distant cries of the mutated carrion-birds that populated the ruins. [Welcome, Glitch Mage.] The words sent a shiver down her spine that had nothing to do with the chill of the dying sun. She blinked, and the translucent blue rectangle intensified, revealing more detail. It hovered about a foot from her face, adjusting its position as she instinctively tried to move her head.
[STATUS]
Name: Elara
Race: Human (Corrupted – Minor)
Level: 1
HP: 80/80
Mana: 50/50
Strength: 7
Agility: 10
Constitution: 8
Intelligence: 12
Wisdom: 9
Luck: 3 (Anomaly)
Corruption: 5% (Stable)
Skills:
[Data Stream Comprehension (Passive) – Lv.1]: Enables basic understanding of System data.
[Glitch Shift (Active) – Lv.1]: Manipulate minor environmental probabilities. (Cost: 10 Mana)
Unique Trait:
[System Anomalous Connection]: Your connection to the System is unconventional, leading to unpredictable, yet potentially powerful, 'glitches.'
Elara's eyes darted over the information. Corruption? Anomaly? Glitch Shift? It was a deluge of alien concepts. She tried to swipe the blue panel away, but her hand passed right through it. Frustration bubbled.
"What is this?" she muttered, her voice hoarse.
The panel flickered.
[Query recognized. This is your personal System Interface. It provides data relevant to your progression as a Glitch Mage.]
"Progression? What kind of progression?"
[Host progression towards System restoration and power acquisition.]
Elara scoffed. Power? She needed food, clean water, and medicine for Old Kael. Not some phantom system. Yet, the tingling in her hand, the new, unsettling clarity of her senses – they were undeniable.
She focused on "Glitch Shift." Manipulate minor environmental probabilities. That sounded… useful. And dangerous. Could it help her find food? Or avoid one of the hulking, metallic beasts that roamed these forgotten zones?
Taking a deep breath, Elara concentrated on the ground beneath her feet, on a loose metal plate just out of reach. She pictured it sliding towards her. A faint, almost imperceptible tremor ran through the air, and with a soft clink, the plate shifted, moving about an inch closer.
Her eyes widened. It worked. It was minor, almost insignificant, but it worked.
A small, translucent green rectangle flickered into existence in the corner of her vision.
[Mana: 40/50.]
A cost? Of course, there was a cost. She tried it again, focusing on a piece of discarded conduit pipe. Another clink, another inch, and her Mana dropped to 30. This was a slow process.
Suddenly, a low growl reverberated through the data spire. Not from the wind, but from something large and predatory. Elara froze. A mutated pack-dog, its fur patchy and eyes glowing with feral hunger, lumbered into view from deeper within the ruins. It locked eyes on her, its jaws dripping.
Panic flared. She had nothing to fight it with. No energy cells, no usable salvage, just a newly discovered, minuscule ability.
Her mind raced. Glitch Shift. Manipulate minor environmental probabilities.
The pack-dog lunged.
Instinct took over. Elara didn't think, she just willed. She focused on the loose rubble just beyond the dog's path, on the fractured concrete, on the very air around its legs.
A cascade of tiny, improbable events unfolded. A small rock, dislodged by the dog's own momentum, tumbled under its paw. A rusted pipe, precariously balanced, teetered and fell, clanking loudly behind it, momentarily startling the creature. A gust of wind, stronger than usual, swirled dust into its eyes.
The dog didn't trip, but its charge faltered, its head shaking. It was a fraction of a second, but it was enough. Elara used that sliver of time to scramble over a pile of debris, heart pounding. The dog barked furiously, then launched itself at the obstacle.
Elara didn't wait. She ran, weaving through the treacherous metal landscape, the strange System interface flickering in her vision, showing her dwindling Mana: [5/50]. She had used almost all of it. But she was alive. And for the first time in a long time, she felt a flicker of something new: hope. A dangerous, glitchy hope.