The hall was silent, the weight of the annouced mourning pressing down like a heavy fog on everyone. My mother’s passing held everyone's attention, They all spoke to each other, and others openly wept.

  Then, as if a dam had broken, emotion surged forward like a ripple of grief, hushed whispers and stifled sobs, spread through the crowd. The mourners multiplied as more entered.

  At the front, the chief sat motionless, his expression carved from stone. But I saw the weight in his eyes, the quiet exhaustion he concealed beneath his composure. A man who had carried too much for too long.

  One of the three girls led me away through a side door. The corridor swallowed us in dim light, each step taking me further from the solemn gathering. She was young, probably thirteen if I guessed, likely a servant in the chief’s household.

  Her face was streaked with silent tears, unhidden and unashamed. I said nothing. What could I say? I was a baby with a man’s mind, trapped in a body too weak to even crawl.

  The room she brought me to was simple—two lamps casting flickering light, a central bed draped in thick animal furs. The air smelled of tallow and earth, warm and enclosed. She stood beside me, quiet as I was watching her cry silently.

  When sleep finally took me, I didn’t dream. Instead, I hovered between waking and dreaming, I became aware of the presence of the system, its words floating in a black void. I mentally studied and prodded at the text, reading every line.

  I wasn’t even sure what a Technomancer could do with the current technological gap I've witnessed today, the only thing that had changed in my status was my new name.

  But then, something caught my attention a line of text flashing.

  [???] – Unlocked by reaching developmental milestones.

  Then, the screen flickered. Lines of glowing text blurred past, too fast to read, until they settled on a single message.

  ———

  > Boon detected: One patron coin.

  Please select a patron.

  The Flayed Librarian

  The Sea of Fractured Reflections

  The Labyrinth of Echoes

  The Forest of Knowing

  ———

  The blue light pulsed, waiting for my choice.

  This is new.

  I remember the coin. It was in my hand when I was shoved through the portal—black, with a thin gold lining around the edge. But… had I always had it? Or did it appear after I spoke to those two? Or was it three?

  Their faces blur in my memory, their features slipping away like sand through my fingers. I can’t even recall what we talked about before they shoved me off the ledge into the portal.

  I turn my focus back to the screen.

  Four choices. Four unknown paths.

  I push against the glowing text with my mind, searching for hidden details, for any clue that might reveal more. Nothing. The screen remains stubbornly silent.

  What does a Patron do? What do they get in return? What will they teach me? And what exactly does this coin cover?

  No answers. Just the four names, waiting.

  I stare at them, unmoving. Thinking. Calculating. Waiting.

  Then, without warning—

  A countdown appears.

  [Time Remaining: 5:00]

  What the fuck?!

  Panic stirs in my gut, but I force myself to stay calm. Think this through.

  I scan the options again. The Flayed Librarian is out immediately. The name alone is enough. I’m not interested in whatever horrors that entails.

  Three choices left.

  For the next two minutes, I debate, analysing the names, and weighing what little I know. The Labyrinth of Echoes? Sounds like riddles and mind games. Risky. The Forest of Knowing? Knowledge is power, but what kind of knowledge? The Sea of Fractured Reflections? That could mean insight… or madness.

  I hesitate.

  [0:30]

  Two choices now. The Forest of Knowing or The Sea of Fractured Reflections. Both sound useful. Both sound… safe. But are they? I don’t know. I can’t know.

  [0:10]

  My heartbeat quickens. No time left. No more second-guessing.

  [0:05]

  [0:04]

  The Forest of Knowing.

  I made my choice.

  The screen flares to life, the text twisting and shifting before my eyes.

  Something stirs. Something awakens.

  And then—

  Everything changes.

  ———

  Status Changes:

  New Passive: [Whispering Growth] – Knowledge lingers in the mind longer, but failure to share learned wisdom causes mental strain.

  New Mutation: [Verdant Markings] – Faint vine-like patterns appear beneath the skin, only visible under certain light.

  Mental +1 (Expanded Cognitive Retention)

  Reputation +1 (Subtle Aura of Wisdom)

  Hidden Drawback: A growing compulsion to share knowledge. Secrets weigh heavily, and silence feels suffocating.

  ———

  Huh. That doesn’t sound too ominous.

  But there had to be a drawback. If I was bound to share knowledge, what did I get in return? How did I gain from this?

  The screen flashed.

  And the void burned.

  Like paper set alight, the surrounding blackness curled and crumbled, revealing something beyond—a forest that should not exist.

  If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

  Its trees were not wood but writhing black flesh, twisting bones, and gnarled roots that pulsed as if breathing. Their bark shifted, porous and alive, while their branches stretched into a sky without stars—only sigils of unknown constellations, shifting and reforming with each passing second.

  A thousand whispers filled the air, not speaking, but thinking.

  Fuck. I should have chosen the Flayed Librarian.

  The voices pressed in from all directions, an unbearable chorus burrowing into my skull. My breath hitched as I clamped my hands over my ears, but the voices didn’t stop—they weren’t heard; they were felt.

  I ran.

  The forest moved with me, not resisting but guiding, twisting its paths in ways that shouldn’t be possible. And then—I entered the clearing.

  It waited there. The Forest. Not just a being, not just a place—both.

  Its form was an amalgamation of all things living and dead, its presence stretched through every gnarled root, every whispering leaf, every watching eye blooming like fungi from its many limbs.

  The earth beneath me exhaled.

  The creatures that scuttled between the roots—shapeless, shifting, hungry—were not separate from it. They were its thoughts made flesh.

  I exhaled too, not in relief but in sheer, primal wrongness.

  Then—I felt something inside me move.

  I shuddered as it slipped free.

  A coin, black as the void between stars, emerged from my chest and fell, soundless, onto the pulsing ground.

  The Forest stirred.

  A limb—if it could even be called that—unfurled from the trunk of a distant tree. It reached, stretching impossibly far, its fingers segmented like the legs of an insect. It plucked the coin and traced its surface with careful precision. Then, without hesitation, it crumbled to dust.

  The Forest approved.

  From a nearby tree, something hung—a single seed, dark and glistening like coagulated ink.

  It plucked the seed and flicked it toward me.

  I had no time to react.

  The seed burrowed into my skin.

  And then—

  Agony.

  Understanding.

  Madness.

  The whispers surged, no longer distant, no longer voices, but truths. Vast, unbearable, all-consuming truths that shattered my mind and rebuilt it instantly.

  I burned with knowing.

  I felt my bones stretch as if they might take root.

  For a moment—just a moment—I was the Forest.

  I was every whisper.

  I was every unseen thing lurking between the roots.

  I was watching.

  And then—the storm passed.

  Reality snapped back into focus. The world became solid once more, and I was myself again.

  Except I wasn’t.

  The seed remained, nestled somewhere within me. A connection anchoring me to something beyond myself. It pulsed—not with knowledge, but with limits. It would not give freely.

  I swallowed hard, my breath shaking.

  Okay.

  I just had my mind cracked and stitched back together by something beyond human understanding.

  Couldn’t I have just had a normal, mundane reincarnation?

  The Forest hummed.

  It was pleased.

  “Were you really that bored?” My voice was hoarse, my thoughts raw. “To carve into my mind like that? I liked those parts—even if they were illogical.”

  The response came not in words, but in a flood of emotions—detached amusement, patient understanding, and an overwhelming certainty. A chorus of thoughts wove together, shaping a single, undeniable truth:

  There was value in losing.

  My mind would be sharper. More efficient. A sculpted tool, free of unnecessary clutter.

  I exhaled slowly. “Yeah… I see your point. But you had millions of options.”

  The Forest’s answer was a swirl of emotions—joy, curiosity, and something close to satisfaction.

  It had chosen me.

  “Fine.” My voice was barely above a whisper. “I'll hold up my end of the bargain.”

  ---

  When I awoke the next day, I was not the same.

  My mind was different.

  Not just altered—pruned. Pieces of me were missing, yet their echoes remained, faint and ghostly, like whispers from a past I could no longer fully grasp.

  I lay there, still, as awareness settled over me. I was helpless and powerless. Trapped in a body that had no strength, no control. A fate worse than death—to be conscious yet unable to act.

  I forced myself to think beyond the despair. To plan.

  The girl beside me was fast asleep —who was she? I needed her name. I needed to understand my surroundings.

  The passing of my mother would cast a long shadow over everyone here, a burden that would linger.

  And so, as she slept, I began.

  I pieced together strategies, pulling from the vast wealth of knowledge in my mind. Theory without practice. A ruler with no experience. A mind full of power, trapped in a body too weak to act.

  And then—

  I felt it.

  The Forest.

  It peered into my thoughts, watching, judging.

  Weighing every choice I would make.

  And it mocked some of my choices.