[Class Options: <Sorcerer>, <Moonlit Dervish>, <Vesselsmith>, <Healer>, <Deathseer>, [New!] <Darktamer>, [New!] <Copycat>, [New!] <Deadzone>, [New!] <Dreadhunter>, [New!] <Trapper>, [New!] <Modifier>]
Excluding some is easy. I don’t have much interest in moonlit dervish, or trapper. Healer feels too underwhelming, and sorcerer too ambiguous. Deathseer feels too nice, I don’t really need premonitions, and darktamer is out because I want Kuro to be themselves. No taming needed.
Dreadhunter is the one I drop next. It’s been a running theme across these past floors, hunting and being hunted. But I don’t want to make that my class. I will, if I must. And from there, finally, the choices get a lot harder.
Modifier is interesting, because I think it encourages me to experiment with skills. Deadzone sounds like the natural evolution of my current nullmage. Copycat probably consumed analyst, keeping the theme of understanding, and perhaps stealing, other people’s skills. And, of course, there’s vesselsmith. More mana.
The one I drop first is copycat. Other people’s skills are interesting. They’re excellent references for developing my own. But copying them exactly? That seems wasteful. No, I need skills that express me. Whose meaning I can interpret and decide for myself.
Modifier drops out of the race next, because despite how much I enjoy changing my skills around, it is something that I can, in part, do with my mantle. I already am an architect, so it feels a little redundant. Perhaps I’m missing out on synergy, but that’s fine.
Which leaves me with deadzone and vesselsmith.
The former is almost certainly a higher tier class. Stronger in most ways. More focused, more powerful, giving me more stats. It sounds strong. Really dang strong.
Which is why I don’t pick it.
Vesselsmith sounds like a class that knows what it’s about. It’s a foundational class. An enabler-type class. Anything I pick in the future will be all the stronger for it, because I can build myself up. I can make my vessel stronger. If I have more mana, stronger mana, when I pick up deadzone on a future class change… then it’ll be all the more powerful.
So, I choose vesselsmith. I choose to lay the foundations for myself, to start building more momentum as I climb.
[Class gained: <Vesselsmith>]
[Stat bonuses: +3 > +4 Vessel per level, +0 > +1 Heart per level]
[Experience modules: Deconstruction, Disruption, Manaforge]
I frown slightly at the notification. “Tower,” I say slowly. “Please reallocate my point per level distribution. I don’t want points to go into heart.”
[Request heard. Processing. Warning: stat instability can cause physical damage. Class stat attribution is optimized for class purposes. Confirmation required. Change stat distribution despite warning?]
“Yes,” I confirm.
[One of your minor Requests has been consumed for your choice.]
[Stat bonuses: +3 > +5 Vessel per level]
[The Master of Suffering laughs at your guts. He hopes for delightful agony as your mana breaks your body. You are sponsored one minor request.]
[The Vesselmaker turns an Eye to you. It crosses a hundred pairs of arms at your experimentation with a solemn nod. You are sponsored additional essence.]
Then, the notifications fall silent for a moment, before they erupt.
[Creeping Darkness gasps at the Vesselmaker, calling it a rich brat.]
[Flametouched sneers at your sponsorship. It tells you to savour the gift before it turns you to ash.]
[Your actions are witnessed by the Embrace. Curiously, it wonders whether you will fall into its arms all by yourself.]
[The Vesselmaker snickers at the noise, telling the others to pay up if they want to compete.]
I wave a hand through the air, brushing away the noisy Eyes. Still, a thin smile spreads on my face. “It worked,” I mutter quietly. My distribution shifted. All vessel all day. I smile at that.
“You’re an idiot, Snow,” Inu chides me without heat. “Did you really ask the tower to make you more fragile?”
“More vessel means more mana,” I reply calmly, with a thin smile, focusing on my surroundings again. The girl shakes her head at it, but Opal barks out a laugh.
“Hah!” they say with a smug grin. “Our magic maniac, huh?” They cross their arms at me and give me a solemn nod, respecting my decision. Sylves just giggles, and Thatch rubs his face with a smile. I know they’ll forgive me, because they’re all idiots, too.
Still, there is one more thing my new class owes me…
[Skill bestowed: Vessel Construction lv. 0]
That’s the final piece. Essence from the sponsorship still flows into me, whispering about the skill - so I can make sure not to kill myself the first time I use it. I tilt my head a little at the Vesselsmith, but then shake it. Yes, the Eye did help me, but it also just wants to see me experiment. See if I can find out something new - then it’ll probably try to get that information out of me.
Still. At least it’ll help me survive. I probably wouldn’t have died, even without the extra essence.
… Maybe.
Surely.
Regardless, with my class selection finished up, I have seen all my notifications. I can finally lean back, breathe and- Oh who am I kidding. Without hesitation, I activate my new skill, feeding it mana and lifeblood.
[Vessel Construction 0 > 1]
Instantly, my insides burn. My mana turns on itself like a parasite. My vessel feeds on me, devouring bits of flesh like a hungry monster. Pain arcs through me at my horrible use of the skill, even when guided by essence… but it’s just pain. It was just a tiny bit of mana.
I feel things shift inside me. My vessel growing more robust even as the rest of me decays. Shifting, changing. The skill isn’t quite accurate in its naming, I suppose. It really is more like forging.
When I trigger the skill, my own blood burns to “heat up” my vessel. After that, it becomes malleable. My mana can press on it from the inside, and expand it. Physically, it takes up the same space, but metaphysically? I can expand it.
But that’s not all. That’d stretch the walls thin. No, I also need to mend any cracks that come from this, weaving new material by blending mana with my blood. It’s more draining, too, drawing on some kind of stamina I know I have, even if there’s no nice list for it.
Then, once the cracks are mended, I need to go into tempering, make sure it cools down universally, preparing it for another round of treatment in the future…
It’s fucking complicated. What a horrendously botched skill. So many layers in that single ability, and in exchange, the price. I cannot use it on anyone outside of me. The mastery required is far too high. It’s purely internal, purely for myself. It’s brutally complex, with enough steps to make my eyes bleed just trying to envision it properly.
In other words: I love it. Couldn’t be happier. For one final time, I call up my status.
Name: Snow Okiyama - Ion
Floor: 4
Class: <Vesselsmith> - 0 (III - Tier 2)
Job: <Imbuer> - 24 (II)
Mantle: Architect of the Assembled Archive
Lv. 75
Heart: 53 - Perpetual Pursuit
Power: 26
Vessel: 392 - Abiding Apathy
Authorities: Efficiency (Initiate)
Skills:
I smile as I see it. Ten skills, now. The ever-invisible essence coursing through me is stronger now, too, refined by my mantle. I can already feel more ideas bubbling in me, now that I’ve broken even more pieces of the tower. Apparently, authorities are listed right above skills.
Notably, it’s authorities, not authority, which tells me that I’ll be able to have multiple. How can I get more, though? Already, I want to reach for that ever ephemeral silence. Well, of course, my headphones will do. Still, I want it.
And, finally, I note that there is a new tab next to my class. The roman numeral seems to denote what number of class it is, while the tier denotes its… strength? Some part of me thinks that there is probably some scaling factor; if I take a tier 1 class as my fifteenth one, then surely it’ll be adjusted to be more powerful, right?
[Intuition 7 > 8]
I look at the notification and snicker. Yes, right, apparently. Tiers do seem to denote the maximum level of classes, though. Stronger classes stick around for longer, maybe? And I think that synergy probably matters a bit more than raw rarity. My skills are a good example of that in the way they reinforce each other.
“Alright, all done,” I say out loud, and the others look at me again with grins.
“Took you long enough. Funny to watch your expressions though,” Opal notes.
I tilt my head. “Is it?”
Thatch nods solemnly. “That’s the most I’ve seen you frown and smile in a while,” he notes, crossing his arms. “Now tell us already. What’s your authority?”
“Efficiency,” I admit with a hint of embarrassment, scratching the back of my head.
Sylves is the first to giggle, but not the last. “Oh, wow. The Tower really got you good. Always climbing, huh? Waste not want not?” Her words come teasingly and with a smile as she slowly twirls in the air. Then, haughtily, she brings her hand to her face, laying it against her cheek. “Well, I, for my part, took the authority of bargaining, thank you very much.”
“Oh no,” I say, gasping dramatically. “Now you can steal my name.”
She giggles some more. “I can, Snow. Would you want that? Will you give me your name?” She reaches out her hand to me, extending it as an invitation with a glint in her eyes.
I think it over for a long second, then smile. “No, I’ll hold onto it for now. Just out of curiosity. But…” I look at her and narrow my eyes. “Oh, you’re sneaky. You stole away your own deadname!”
“Quite so!” she admits with a bright grin. “It shall forever be forgotten. Given away to the Tower itself, netting me a minor request!” The amount of glee radiating off her is so palpable that we even let her gleeful bragging slide. Instead, we just give her some small cheers.
Then, eventually, Opal breaks in. “Well, my authority is nothing so fancy. I simply took… freedom.”
“Oh you rascal,” Thatch chides with a laugh. “Freedom, they say. Not so big, they say. As if you weren’t slippery enough.”
Grinning, they shrug smugly. “Well, what can I say, no cage can hold me. My creativity has been unleashed on this world, and I don’t think the tower’s ready.”
Thatch rolls his eyes. “All I got was remembrance. It feels almost silly in comparison,” he says.
I tilt my head. “I can’t quite tell what it does,” I admit.
“Yeah, it’s just a piece of my build. I think it’ll work well with something I found recently. I’m trying to be more creative with [Channel], and this’ll serve as my… way back, if that makes sense?” he blushes slightly, scratching the back of his head.
Again, I tilt my head. “I don’t get it,” I say honestly
Sighing softly, he nods. “Alright, maybe it’s better if I just- let me show you.”
And then, his mana signature sparks. I see Inu flinch from the intensity of the anger that pours into the room. The sheer rage that floods off of what is no longer Thatch. Instead, around him, there is an ethereal construct of red lines. Built from pieces of what he’s killed. I see rippling cold around him, bladed, serrated limbs from fogfae and sumeen wrapped around his own. His face is clad in a mask of dark red, sporting only six dots for a face. He breathes, and it sounds like a snake’s hiss.
Violence licks against my skin. His gaze tears all the way through me, exposing secrets and vulnerabilities alike. And yet, I don’t fear him. Because I trust Thatch, and if he wants to kill me, I’ll forgive him, too.
For a moment, he rises from the bed, bladed limbs scraping lines in the wood of the little room. A razor-sharp, elongated arm presses into my chest, barely grazing my skin. His faceplate of fury hones in on me.
And then, it all vanishes.
The construct around him crumbles away as Thatch remembers who he is. The [Channel] breaks and falls, with him returning to himself. Into himself. Sylves stares at him, her eyes open wide in surprise. Inu looks at him with worry. Opal grins.
Thatch, himself, pants and rubs his shoulders, giving me a weak smile, sweat pooling on his skin. He almost falls, but I catch him, and his skin feels cold in the aftermath of the fury. He looks at me, afraid. That I might push him away for it. Instead, I pull him into a quick hug.
“Awesome job, Thatch,” I say quietly. “That’s so fricken cool.”
“Hell yeah!” Opal adds. “You’re like a shapeshifter?! That’s sick!”
Sylves just smiles faintly, sadly, as she averts her gaze. “You’re braver than me. Thank you for showing us.”
Thatch’s fear is washed away with gratitude, as Inu gently pulls him back up, steading him, and ruffling his hair. “If it ever gets too much, you can tell us, okay?” she says gently. “We’ll bring you back.”
He nods, quickly, then returns her smile. “What about you, Inu? What’s your authority?”
Without hesitation, the girl gives us a smile. “Void,” she says, as if it’s the simplest thing of all time.
I blink once, then twice. Heccing what now?
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