I walked through the jungle that I’d recently learned was named the Bellgrave Jungle. Named after the carnivorous, ivies, with small bell-shaped flowers, that grew over many of the trees here. I was alone. Jack likes to sleep in and would generally only stir as it got closer to noon. Maybe becoming part, spooky, shadow-demon, made her nocturnal or something. Or maybe she was just lazy.

I heard a whisper and the soft smush of footpads crushing grass and weeds. I turned, spun on my heel, and struck out with the spear that I was carrying on my shoulder. There was a yowl of pain that became a mournful whine as I followed that first thrust with a second and third. Perforating the chest of the beast. 

The creature that attacked me “was” a moss-panther. A large predatory feline, with green and brown, dappled fur. Now with just a thought,  it was turned into more potential for the system. I checked the menu of my idle-clicker system and my mood rose by several notches. I now had enough potential to buy yet another growth multiplier. The price to increase the rate of my passive gains, and the effectiveness of my active clicking, increased with each purchase. There was just something addictive about this feeling of constant growth, and seeing it slow as the requirements for growth increased was disheartening. Thus I was always happy to take any little step forward.

I was attacked two more times before I managed to make it back to our cave. I refrained from absorbing the last of the beasts. That last creature was some kind of weird bird thing, called a Hypno-Mallard. Like a cross between a parrot, a duck, and a velociraptor. A flight bird-type beast with crazy hypnotic eyes that could cast a passive mental-spell that stunned whatever the duck looked at. The beast was a little terrifying, what with the way it hopped out of the river as I was passing by, and the way its powers sorely tested my Wisdom stat, but according to my data-sampling, it’d be delicious when gently grilled over butter. So uh...I guess I knew what brunch was going to be. 

 After walking for a bit, the cave came into view. From a distance, it just looked like a cave. The security wards that Jack and I had set up on the outer-perimeter of the cave, were purposely made to be not very noticeable. They were just a mixture of hidden sigils and runes that would dissuade most people and beasts from lingering in the area. Driving unwanted visitors back and warning us that someone, or something, was getting a little close to our territory. 

It was only when you actually entered the cave that you could see how far we’d come in the last month and a half. Inside our cave, we built a small little house. Or rather, one could say that we’d built a series of simple, but well put together, sheds that each acted as rooms, and cumulatively served as our current home. It was a labor of love. A fun little handicrafts/DIY-type project that became almost stupidly easy to get down when I got a story to help me know what I was doing. 

Speaking of my stories, shortly after we found the cave, once I was able to relax and properly read through the hundreds of books we stole from the Marrow clan’s library, I’d managed to gain three stories. On the one hand, only gaining three stories after reading hundreds of books, reaffirmed the fact that it wasn’t an easy thing to be able to gain a story. Especially, since one of those stories was born as an aggregate of other data that I’d gathered, and experiences that I’d had, and interestingly enough, an interaction of the other stories. 

Meaning that A) I really only got two stories from reading those hundreds of books, and B) I might not necessarily know what it took to create a story. Funnily enough, I strongly suspected that even the [Tale of the Empty Archivist’s Heir] couldn’t tell me exactly what it took to create a story. “Stories” were anomalous, miraculous, things that came to be as a consequence of life’s many variations and vicissitudes. 

Each small story was a life narrative, and the big stories were slices of the flow of the cosmos itself. Windows into what it meant to be, and the myriad modalities of being. I found myself realizing that maybe becoming the new Keeper of the Empty Archive one day, might not be that bad, if it meant I got to read all those narratives, and experience all those perspectives, and get a better view, and understanding, of the bewildering miracle that was existence. 

Anyway, one of the Stories that I got from reading all the books, were the “[Tale of the Craftsman]” which I got from reading a whole bunch of technical manuals that the Marrow clan must have purchased or stolen from the various crafting guilds to build its own such talents internally. The [Tale of the Craftsman] was a really handy story for me to unlock when I did. The story gave me knowledge and experience, with all trades and crafts that could be considered craftsmanship. 

This ranged from basket weaving, carpentry, and blacksmithing, but also included engineering, something called “robotics”, and city building. There were also a bunch of other things there. I could feel it. However, I’d have to wait until I’d studied that story some more. Most importantly, the story made it a lot easier for Jack and me to build our house. Now as I studied more of that story, I suspected that I'd start doing renovations soon. Improving on the house, making it sturdier and more comfortable. 

Then the second Story I got, was the “[Tale of the Cultivator]”. A story I got from reading a whole bunch of martial arts manuals, A few dozen treatises on the flow and nature of spiritual energy, and the small collection of low-level cultivation arts that the clan taught to its less-talented youths, and more talented servants. 

That second story initially wasn’t a super huge deal for me. As I said before, the existence of the system means that I actually can’t cultivate in the normal sense. The system does all my cultivation for me, and it turns all my spiritual energy into potential, virtually sealing my ability to cultivate. However, I soon changed my tune as I realized that it wasn’t entirely useless. First off, even if I couldn’t cultivate that didn’t mean that I couldn’t use their technique, and fighting styles. Also, apparently, gaining the right stories can help make the system itself smarter. Before I’d been a lot more worried about the slow down of my stat’s passive growth.

Now as I studied the [Tale of the Cultivator], my stats would surge and develop as my comprehension of each attribute's true-meaning, and value, grew. What’s more, the effect of my stat increases was also becoming more profound as my comprehension grew. For instance, before getting more “Strength” meant merely getting stronger. Now, my increases in strength had an effect on the substance of my body, and the resilience of my spirit, because my understanding of inner, and outer, strength had grown more profound. Honestly, I wasn’t sure I fully understood the full implications of this story. What I did understand was that, studying the story now granted me a continuous, and most importantly a “free”, multiplication of my growth 

I was once again reminded of how big a cheat my Idle-Clicker System was. By managing to open the  “door” of the world of cultivation, and unlock a story, I now had access to all the knowledge, skills, and experiences of cultivators throughout the entire multiverse. This meant eventually getting access to a nigh-infinite amount of cultivation techniques, and martial arts, and the knowledge of how to use them correctly. Jack threw quite the tantrum when I told her, but she calmed down quickly enough when I informed her that I wasn’t averse to sharing the knowledge I now held, and would soon hold. 

That was the point where I got my third story, the “[Tale of the Fool]”. At first, I thought I was being chastised by the system or something. Or like I’d bumped up against, some hidden rule that stopped me from sharing my knowledge, but on the contrary, the [Tale of the Empty Archivist’s Heir] seemed satisfied somehow. Pleased with the other story’s appearance. The [Tale of the Fool] was a weird story. This wasn’t a collection of the memories, experiences, and skills of every idiot and clown in all the multiverse. Nope. 

Instead, the [Tale of the Fool] was an empty tale. If I had to describe it, I’d have to say that this story was like reading a book, that was a collection of all the stories that never quite got off the ground. As well as countless empty pages. Yet, those false starts held something in them. A profound potential. A promise that the cosmos itself seemed intent on keeping. And those empty pages didn't feel like they were actually empty. Just empty for now. I had this strong feeling that this story had done something odd to my data-sampling because sometimes I’d find myself with hunches, and knowledge, that I didn’t know I had. 

It gives me a headache to try and think about the [Tale of the Fool] head-on. Instead, what I “can” say for sure, was that the tale of the fool seemed to have the essence of all the stories I’d unlocked, and hints to all the stories that I hadn’t unlocked, floating somewhere within it. In terms of tangible benefits, the story allowed me access to a new tab in my Idle-Click System. That tab was called the “Members” tab. 

According to the [Tale of the Empty Archivist’s Heir], there was no point, or value, in a library whose contents would only ever be read by one person. While membership to my library could be as selective and as limited as I wanted, and probably “should” be limited to a very small group of trusted individuals in light of the power my collection held, I now had the right to let people into my archive.  I now had the power to grant outsiders a sort of “library-card” a miniature off-shoot of my system, that allowed them access to curated, limited, versions of the stories I’d unlocked. This...This would have some very big implications for me and Jack’s future. It also reminded me of why system-holders were always either fawned over, enslaved, or eliminated. When they rose in power, they almost never rose alone.