"Shiro!"

(Huh?)

My hand was tugged along by a girl, around 8 years old. I couldn't see any defining features, except that she was the same height as me, with an overflowing snowy white hair that drifted in the soft wind. Her skin of a porcelain natural pale, alas, alluring, and her hand felt warm and smooth. Familiarity oozed from her, I felt pleasant. Her face was blurred, but I knew that she probably had a bewitching face, befitting of a goddess. 

"Come on Shiro! Let's play!"

She smiled and giggled as I was dragged along by her soft ethereal hands. I didn't know who she was. But I didn't feel uncomfortable. Instead, I felt relaxed, and my lips naturally curled upwards. She was just amazing. I didn't know how else to describe her. Alas, I snapped out of the dream, and I returned to reality; the world dissipated, melting into the abyss. At last, the girl also disappeared, and my hand were longer in her reach.

...

Night time; the moon glowed with luminosity, as I sat up, once again. The pain had eased, and I could breath normally again. But I didn't move. I was in a trance, feeling as I had forgotten something important, once again. Sounds of a flowing river next me, the trees around me, whispering and fluttering just like the day before. I was met with a serene sense of calmness. 

"Status."

============================

Name: [Shirō Shiratori]

Nationality: [Japanese]

Age: [17 Years Old]

Level: [5]

HP: [180/200]

MP: [50/50]

SP: [70/100]

Status: [Malnourished] [Fatigue]

Skills: [Materialisation] 

============================

My MP had restored back to full, but my HP had stayed the same, and my stamina had dropped by 25. I shivered as I remembered the unbearable pain when my MP had dropped into the negatives. I vowed to never go overboard with [Materialisation] at that moment; it was just too dangerous. Looking back at the description of [Materialisation], I remembered that I could manipulate matter. Perhaps it didn't require MP, so I put it to the test.

With my palm pointed out, I imagined the air particles consisting of nitrogen and oxygen cycling in the air, like a small tornado. 
With success, a small twirling, tennis ball sized, air appeared, as I checked my MP in the status board.

MP: [45/50]

It still took 5 points of my MP, but as soon as I released the control of the air particles, the tornado softly dispersed, and my MP went back up to [50/50].

(It still takes my MP when I try and manipulate matter, but it seems that as long as I don't "utilise" and "create" matter, it will return to me as my own mana. Logically speaking, I was just borrowing components of my surroundings, so it didn't require any MP.)

I controlled the air particles once again, but this time, more violently, stronger than the last. A larger, fiercer tornado appeared in front of me, in a shape of a basketball. My MP had dropped to [30/50] this time, so it confirmed my hypothesis. I released my control on the air particles once again, the tornado dissipating into the atmosphere.
MP: [50/50]

(The bigger and more complex the [Materialisation], the more MP is used. Makes sense. What's more, the clearer the image of the components of the material, the more stronger and more realistic the materialisation would become.)

The fact that such a small ball of air used up 20 MP in an instant, showed that while [Materialisation] is a strong skill, it acted as a double edged sword; Too strong and all my MP would drop to the negatives, whereas trying to reserve my MP and hold back, would result in a weak materialisation. From this experiment, I concluded that I needed a lot more MP to turn it into a useful skill. Assessing myself while looking at the status board, I judged myself as [Weak]. 

(Weak...?)

A dull pain once again started to hammer into my mind.

( "...Weak..." )

( "...Haha...Weak..." )

The irritating voice became clearer as it continued to mock me.

( "Why are you so weak? You're an absolute trash of a human being..." )

It laughed.

( "No, you're worse than trash, you're SHIT!" )

I snapped out of it. Again, I felt like I was forgetting something important. My emotions were in a turmoil, feelings of frustration and hatred swirled in my heart. 

(Whatever, I don't need to think about this right now.) 

Since my MP was pathetic, I had to rely on my AK47, which laid beside me in the grass. While it may had been just an inanimate object, it felt like it was my only comrade. I had 29 bullets left. Another idea sprang into my mind. I held my hand out, once again, as I imagined brass being formed and manipulated in a shape of a casing. If it worked, I could create a full metal jacket, 7.62x39mm bullet.
I imagined the primer, with its gunpowder shoved into the casing. Next I created the bullet itself. I fabricated the lead, and wrapped it in a harder alloy, copper. After 3 minutes, the bullet was completed.
My MP had dropped to [45/50]. Creating a bullet clearly used [5 MP], so I could create 9 more bullets if I needed. Again, the fact that it took 5 MP just to make a single bullet, showed the pitiful status of my MP reserves.

I decided to create one more bullet, as 3 minutes passed, and my MP dropped to [40/50].
Releasing the magazine out of the AK, I slid the two newly made bullets, and attached the magazine back to the gun. One bullet was already in the chamber, so I had a total of 30+1 bullets, the max capacity the gun could have. I needed more magazines. It was just too disadvantageous to have one magazine only. My stomach growled once again. I could live without food for one more day, so I focused on creating a new magazine. 

Once again, I put my hand out, imagining aluminum molecules shaped into the classic shape of the banana AK47 mag, with its spring and other components being put in place.
But, I failed. It was oddly shaped, and the magazine did not function properly; it didn't feed the bullet correctly into the gun. My MP dropped to [20/50]. I only had one more chance.
I closed my eyes. I imagined a blueprint of the magazine, like a hologram floating in the air, showing the main components and materials of the magazine. One by one, I generated the pieces, lining up in the correct spots in the "hologram." After 20 minutes, I was done. Holding my breath, I tested the magazine with a fresh bullet from the other. As I pulled the charging handle and let go, the bullet was correctly picked up by the bolt carrier, and it successfully locked into the chamber. 

"LET'S GO!!!" I screamed in triumph. Fulfillment filled my heart, and so, my MP dropped to [0/50].