Cyverous was moving even before the pain gripped his stomach. Ever since he received his second form of flecks, and installed a vow to accompany the power, he lost the ability to walk away from a situation in which he could end the pain of another being. With every pledge, there is a secondary sequence that binds the person to a set of rules.

Young and bright-eyed, he attached his first Vow came with his Particle researcher power.

Particle researcher requirement. Primary sequence vow: Study and appreciate life. Unlock the secrets of the world through scientific investigation. Restriction: Cause no unnecessary pain.

He had chosen this restriction due to his bloody childhood, and his hatred for the indiscriminate slaughter inducted by certain classes and vows of others. Their haphazard way of life disgusted him.

Another scream tore its way around the valley and found its way to Cy's ears. His faux right arm buzzed with what must be excitement.

Leading his reckless charge through the thick vegetation, his gold and white particles retained their orb form, but flaked off and recombined by the hundreds. Their overprotective personality did not stop at just their master. From their initial creation, they had always seemed to want to protect whatever they could. This initial trait endeared them to Cy immediately. That stark contrast to his bloody particles for his second class was one of the reasons he felt distant from his red arm and powers from that side.

Reaching a small embankment, Cy began to move with more stealth.

Peering through the branches of a large tree, he spotted a band of five twisted men.

He was able to identify them and their class immediately. Their pale, almost translucent skin was covered in a paint mixed from the blood of their many victims. Clothed in the hide of human and beast alike, they looked more monster than man.

Rusted weapons in their hands dripped with the black blood of their current target. Cy forcibly calmed his research particles as they urged him forward. He needed to make sure they did not have a leader in their current pack.

His stomach twisted from his Vow and his own personal emotions as his eyes landed on their victim. A wild centaur man struggled to move away from the fiendish poachers. Many sentient creatures existed in Clarstia, the continent they existed on. A good deal of them, unfortunately, were not blessed with magic. The race of hybrid human horses were an example of that lack.

One of its legs was shredded. It dragged limply underneath it as it crawled away. The hunters were laughing as they collectively released their power and reveled in the fear they were causing.

Contrary to Cy's researcher power, those who selected the Poacher class gained their upgrade points through torture. Their ability allowed them to overwhelm and essentially freeze those weaker than themselves with a magical aura of concentrated fear.

Cyverous could taste the sinister influence in the air. One of the men slowly raised their arm in preparation to throw a knife into the centaur. The malicious man was breathing heavily, making the incoming throw and pain unmistakable to increase the horse man's anxiety.

Two short whistles and the golden flecks raced through the air as the knife left the poacher's hand.

V1 Shape to form. White flecks. Memory slot 1: Shield mode.

A golden shield of life formed from the particles and blocked the rusty weapon just as it was about to hit flesh.

Cy hummed a deep tone twice as a signal to his red flecks.

V1 Shape to form. Red flecks. Memory slot 2: Lance.

With what seemed like reluctance, the red particles formed a lance that stretched out into a sharp tip twice the length of Cy's other arm. He would start with intimidation. Perhaps this fight could end before it started. As if reading his mind, his red particles vibrated with annoyance.

Cyverous made a fist with his left hand and bent his arm, fist pointing toward the sky. He stepped out from behind the tree and looked down at the men. With one long whistle, his particles returned and formed a Kite shield.

"Turn and flee now. I will not warn you again. Leave this creature be. I am sure you have satisfied your classes and generated plenty of points from the damage you have caused." Cyverous boomed out as he looked down at the men. Their victim continued its pitiful crawl away as it began to weep. What could one man do to this group of deviants?

The poachers began to laugh, spitting with the force of their joviality at the notion. One of them flipped off Cy as his laughter began to subside. "How about you wait the fuck there so we can start on you next asshole," the man punctuated his request with several other vulgar movements. They directed the full force of their negative energy at him.

Cy sighed and looked to their victim. Even if he let them leave, they would only perpetuate their cycle. Once a class is chosen, and a vow spoken, there was no abandoning it. The only end was in death or transforming into a Gainte. He shrugged off their power. Fear aura had no effect on those mightier than the source.

Cyverous would grant them the former. With a single hum, his right arm began to transform.

V1 Shape to form. Red flecks. Memory slot 2: Colt Python

At the end of his arm, an exact replica of his revolver back at camp formed. With a thought, a sharpened pellet made from red flecks embedded itself into the middle of the loquacious poacher's forehead. As he dropped Cyverous sprinted forward. Before they even realized their ally was dead, he was among the group. With three consecutive hums, his arm transformed again.

V1 Shape to form. Red flecks. Memory slot three: Blade form.

Before the closest enemy could even raise their twisted weapon, Cy separated their head from the rest of their body. As that one fell, a third managed to raise their sword in time to strike. Cy blocked the incoming blow, shifting his arm slightly, so the momentum carried down to the ground. Kicking the weapon, so it snapped in half. He punched his blade through the man's eye. The remaining two Poachers ran in separate directions. One decided to flee; the other chose to use its last moments, extracting more pain from their victim.

With a hum, Cyverous transformed his arm once again and dispatched them both before either made it more than a few steps. As they fell, his right arm exploded into its individual fragments. Now that the threat had been eliminated, it devoured the bodies, increasing its own mass and particle count exponentially.

GP +5 granted for your swift kill. +5 additional points acquired from harvest. Your Vow and connection related to your Gunslinger class have gained another fractal. You are three fractals away from another awakening.

Satiated particles have been transformed. -3 GP total transformed into BP.

Cyverous watched as a good majority of the new particles transformed into black particles. He also sneakily stored away some of the new red ones. For the black, he mentally commanded his white flecks to round them up, and he saved them in another box with the others. People talked about third, and even fourth classes, and the black particles were likely linked to that phenomenon, but Cy was focused on something else.

He turned to the crying man behind him. The being was still under the remnants of a fear curse. Unable to fully control his body, the human half of him shielded his eyes, awaiting more pain or death.

Cy looked over the wounds and felt a joy that they were not deadly. They would need treatment soon, but he would not have to kill to end a slow and painful death more quickly. At this realization, his stomach stopped its painful twisting. His second Vow was a curse in that way.

Gunslinger requirement. Primary sequence vow: Use a gun efficiently to protect yourself, or eliminate your enemies. Duel other gunslingers on sight if they mean you harm. Restriction: Kill painlessly.

Cy had not figured out the secret portion of that Vow yet. It would become more apparent as it grew, gained fractals, and showed more intelligence and personality. He feared the day it would overtake his Researcher class. It was much easier to kill to eat each day than to unlock the world's mysteries. That paired with needing to kill enemies meant his second class grew much quicker than his first.

"You do not need to fear them anymore." Cy kneeled and placed his palm up. He felt the absence of his right arm when he did the movement. The beastman slowly lowered its hands as it looked at him. Part of the hybrid creature's culture was this pose. They would kneel with their horse-like front legs and show both palms in a gesture than meant they would not attack.

"Where did you learn Centaurian culture?" The man seemed extremely warry as he returned the gesture to the best of his injured ability. Cy expected that because he was currently covered in the blood of poachers. His power greedily still tearing into their bodies.

"You are one of countless of your kind I have saved from that monstrous type of men. Though I am not always successful." Cy lowered his eyes as he spoke the admission.

"Sotíras," The Centaur gasped. He then forced his body to dip into a deep bow. "You have done much for my kind and our allied people," he spoke now with reverence, his eyes wide in aw.

"The only pittance I would beg of you is to instill upon me another fragment of your culture. As you can see, one of my powers is proliferating. I wish to grow my researcher class particles right now in kind." Cy held out his left hand, and his golden flecks danced around it in a loosely connected tendril.

"I should be indentured to you for this. That is not enough." The man pleaded.

Cyverous stood and grabbed something out of his bag. As he slowly walked over to the hybrid, he began to wrap a bandage around his leg. "Speak on it no further. Please, just oblige my request. I have always wondered. How you weave your homes in the forest." Cyverous left no room for argument.

"Very well. You have heard or seen Galfanol bark Ents?" When he paused, Cy nodded.

"Well, there is a legend that goes back generations to when my people first came into existence. It is said that we formed a symbiotic relationship with Ents then. Our ability to charge up our legs and strike at full power is not very useful for battle, but combined with the strength of our legs, and our unbreakable hooves, we can free the creatures as they are growing. Their metal-like bark occasionally becomes so hard it limits their ability to move and grow. When broken off, it can be temporarily molded by continuously applying force. The heat generated by repeated blows allows us to shape it into bricks that seal together. We build our homes and ramparts that way. They then can stand indefinitely, and they weigh very little, so they do not sink into the earth." He spoke quickly, the information flew into Cy's mind and titillated his sense of wonder.

"How can you generate the heat to meld the bark with pressure alone. That should not work. Unless you cause friction in the way you strike it somehow, then that paired with force creates heat. May I see the hoove of your back leg?" Cyverous ran through several possibilities as he waited for permission and finished bandaging the torn up foreleg.

"Of course, Sotíras," The beastman responded as he slowly stood on three of his legs and grabbed a nearby tree for balance to lift the back leg opposite his injured one.

Cyverous inspected the base of the Centaurs back leg. As he suspected, it was not flat. Spiked groves ran along the dense material.

"When you strike the hard bark, do you do it in a scraping motion like this?" Cy did an exaggerated charging up of his leg and slammed it down while dragging it across the leaf-covered ground.

"That is a very close approximation, wise one."

"Then, I can conclude that my hypothesis is correct! The friction generated by the grooves in your hooves, compiled with the power of your repeated blows heats up the metal, allowing it to be molded, then when it cools, it retains its original durability." Cyverous was overwhelmed with joy at the conclusion. He also could likely study the next Ent he encountered for additional research.

RP +1 granted for your finding. Your Vow and connection related to your Researcher class have gained another fractal. You are one fractal away from another awakening.

White and gold fractals came to life around the two as Cy smiled widely.

"Do you need assistance getting back to your clan?" Cy spoke through his smile, unable to suppress the joy at a new finding.

"I will make it well enough on my own. If you find your way to my people, we have much more we could share with you. Our fortress is nearly impenetrable, and the warriors of my kind will repel any of your species who wish us all harm, but we would allow you inside and welcome you for as long as you wish," He punctuated his invitation with another bow.

"Thank you for your kind offer. I may take you up on that someday. Please take care. There will be other poachers in the area. Alert the rest of your people to only venture out in groups."

Cy returned the bow and watched the centaur trot away carefully on three legs.

He called his red flecks back into place with a thought. His prosthetic arm felt more substantial. It could have been his imagination, but he even felt a slight chill from the breeze on the tips of the fingers, likely a phantom feeling mirroring his real arm.

As he headed back to his camp, he was pleased that both of his powers had grown. The poachers' appearance was a sign he may need to move soon, but until then, he would gather much more information from this beautiful area.