The revelation left him mildly shell-shocked. He knew he had some weird connection to healing, and how when wielded through him it deviated outside its normal parameters. Seeing it laid out plainly was something else though, really hammered his current situation home.

  What stuck out the most to him was the confirmation that his healing would affect everyone the same way; hindsight says that should have been obvious. Without control and intent, even his allies could become a casualty. A small part of him was starting to see why the Pantheon disliked deviants. As powerful as they were, they basically manipulated the laws of nature and turned it into their strength. Powerful, yes, but extremely dangerous. Taking a minute, he closed his eyes and steadied himself. He had almost regained himself when another system message appeared out of nowhere.

  [Title Acquire: Marked by Living Continuity]

  Classification: Deviant Identifier

  Origin: Inherent Soul Imprint

  Status: Active

  Description:

  The user’s existence is anchored to a persistent life-state that does not resolve naturally at equilibrium. Life-aligned processes influenced by the user exhibit continued function beyond standard completion thresholds.

  This condition is not a skill, alignment, or system construct.

  It represents an inherent deviation in how biological processes conclude.

  Life energy shaped by the user prioritizes continuation over balance, persisting until intent, structural failure, or external suppression intervenes.

  System Interpretation:

  Living Continuity does not increase life output.

  It alters life resolution.

  Effects:

  +10 to mana regeneration

  +10 to health regeneration

  Staring at the screen, he willed the notification over to Rowan.

  Rowan was mid-drink and looked like he almost choked.

  “…Yeah. That tracks. I was hoping it would be subtler.”

  “What do you mean, more subtle? Were you expecting this?”

  With a sigh, Rowan answered, “Yes, Brands are outside the system. The message that initially described it to you may have been the system, but Brands are not advertised and are technically outside the purview of Pantheon authority.”

  “It’s looking to define a term that simply has not existed before within its library of knowledge. In my experience, no two deviants are alike. Even those with similar elements have some differing factors inherent to the individual. Maybe one fire deviant shoots cold fire and the other one can simply absorb fire to empower themselves, honestly the combinations can get pretty wild.”

  Hector sighed. “Well, it has a definition now and some sweet stat boosts. I’d say that’s a win any day of the week.”

  “Ha, yes, seeing those beautiful numbers rise is always a treat. Gets a lot more barren in the stat increase department once you reach my stage. Quite a shame honestly.”

  He had a lot of work ahead of him, but something told him that there was no better place to be than where he was right now. It seemed as if luck had favored him, at least this time. With an air of contentment he smiled, genuinely happy to finally have at least one answer about his new chaotic life.

  “Okay, so now I can see how my healing works on paper, but you mentioned some training. What did you have in mind?”

  “Slow down, let us process what just happened first. Remember one day here is only an hour outside. Its been what two or three days here? You have time.”

  “Fair point. I feel ready, but I have some stuff I would like to think through after all that.”

  “No worries. Tonight, we drink, relax, and if you are feeling feisty, I have some board games I promise you have never even heard of before.”

  “Strong and mighty Pantheon Paragons play board games?”

  Rowan got up, heading over to a closet he was sure was not there before.

  “Oh, shut it. I have been cooped up in this personal domain for a millennium. As an avid fan of the tabletop variety, that has probably been the worst part. Hard to play with clones of yourself when they all know what moves you prefer.”

  “Okay, makes sense. So, what game did you have in mind? Hopefully it is not something overly complicated.”

  “Patience. You will find out shortly, once I find it. I have not really kept my inventory space organized through the millennia.”

  “…Wait, that closet is your inventory space? How does that even work? Mine seems to be eternally stuck at level one. It has not leveled up since the tutorial started.”

  “Oh? Care if I take a look?”

  “Sure, what have I got to lose.”

  The motion was becoming more instinctual as he willed over the information. Rowan glanced back at the faint outline of Hector’s inventory interface and sighed.

  “Ah. There it is.”

  Hector frowned. “That tone usually means something is wrong with me.”

  “No, something is wrong with the system.”

  He leaned against the table. “What you are dealing with is one of the most common deviant defects. We call it an inventory desync.”

  “That sounds… bad,” Hector said.

  “It is mild, Compared to spontaneous limb duplication or existential echoing. Could be a lot worse.”

  “…Those are real problems, are they not?”

  Rowan grinned. “Very real.”

  He waved his hand. “For standard users, inventory progression is tied to level milestones. Clean, predictable. The system knows how much space you should have, how much time should be frozen, and how much reality it is allowed to ignore.”

  He tapped the air. “Deviants break that assumption.”

  Hector folded his arms. “Because of Brands?”

  “Because of unapproved interaction paths, brands are the usual culprit, but not the only one.”

  He gestured toward Hector. “Your existence does not fully conform to system mediation. That caused your inventory skill to become unreliable. Think of it as a very rude side-effect of your Brand, all thanks to the lovely Pantheon everyone adores.”

  “So, the system has bugs? I thought it was supposed to be some almighty and perfect existstance,” Hector said slowly.

  “ Far from it, live as long as me and you will see your fair share of bugs and shortcomings. These “bugs” limits it, level One inventory is the safest possible state. Most likely there is nothing wrong with it, but for some reason the system flagged it and placed a limit on it.”

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

  Hector exhaled. “So will I ever be able to upgrade it?”

  Rowan held up his fingers. “Two ways.”

  “First, Core advancement, when your Core evolves, the system reassesses how much deviation strain you can safely contain. If it decides you will not implode, it expands structural capacity.”

  “That is reassuring... and the second one?”

  “Second, anchored items, these could be artifacts, constructs, tools that stabilize themselves, there's a number of possible forms, but they all do the same thing.”

  “So, I need special items?”

  “Yes, or a Core that stops making the system nervous.”

  Hector snorted. “Good luck with that.”

  Rowan smiled. “Exactly.”

  He took a drink. “Most deviants deal with this early on, small inventory, odd restrictions, things refusing to stack properly. food spoiling when it should not. As with most things in the Pantheon there is an infinite number of possibilities some mild and some rather extreme.”

  Hector groaned. “Well… I guess it could be worse, at least my inventory still works so I guess I can’t really complain.”

  Rowan shrugged. “The system is all about preserving its ideals, whatever those are. Ole Mr. Pantheon really doesn’t give two shits about whether it harms or enhances a deviant, just the way things are.”

  Hector stared at his interface again.

  “So, my inventory is not broken, it's just bugged? All because the system hasn’t taken a fancy to my deviant status?”

  Rowan raised his mug. “Now you are learning how the universe really works.”

  “Ah, finally found it!” Rowan pitch going a little higher in excitement.

  Rowan pulled out a box with bold black letters on the front saying “Dungeon, Dungeon Deviation”.

  “Looks interesting. What are the rules? I imagine it will be way more exciting than the board games I am used to.”

  “Oh, this one is a multi-verse classic. Good idea to learn in case you are ever off your world. Never hurts to have a way to fit in, helpful in a number of situations.”

  The game turned out to be simple to learn and deceptively hard to master. The board depicted a stylized dungeon layout; hexagonal tiles arranged into branching paths. Each player controlled a party marker, a stack of cards representing skills, inventory, and luck. The goal was straightforward. Reach the final chamber and clear it before anyone else. The problem was that the dungeon did not stay the same.

  Every few turns, a rule card was drawn. Sometimes a corridor collapsed, sometimes monsters gained resistances, skills could misfire, inventories locked, or entire rooms inverted their effects.

  The most fascinating part though was how the board magically reacted. No player input was needed; once the rule cards were read, the board would change automatically. He would have killed for a board game like this before the tutorial.

  Hector lost badly in the first round. He had tried to plan too far ahead, hoarding resources and saving his strongest cards for what he assumed would be the final encounter. Instead, the dungeon shifted, the exit relocated, and Rowan waltzed through a side passage Hector had dismissed as inefficient.

  Rowan did not gloat...Much.

  “You are thinking like someone who expects the rules to stay put, that is a bad habit to bring into hostile realities.”

  Hector scowled at the board. “I thought adaptability was important.”

  “It is, but adaptability is not the same thing as hesitation.”

  The second game he got better. Hector stopped trying to optimize everything. He played faster, burned resources early instead of waiting for perfect moments that never arrived. This time he managed to barely squeak in a win, but only because Rowan intentionally made a bad move. Hector blinked as Rowan discarded a powerful card without hesitation.

  “You could have won with that,” Hector said.

  “Yes, but I wanted to see what would happen if I did not.”

  The dungeon immediately punished them both. A rule card flipped, inventory lock skill suppression and randomized enemy placement; it was pure chaos.

  Hector stared at the board. “You did that on purpose?”

  Rowan grinned. “The Dungeon, Dungeon Deviation does not care why you fail. Only that you do.”

  The third game was chaos. Hector laughed more than he frowned. He made reckless plays, improvised solutions, and once attempted to use a healing card on a dungeon tile out of spite.

  Rowan raised a brow. “Trying to see if Overheal works in the game?”

  “It was worth a shot.”

  “Bold, but sadly I don’t think it will work out for you.” Rowan laughed joyfully.

  Somewhere between the fourth drink and the fifth game, Hector managed another win, barely. His marker limped into the final chamber with nothing left but a single card and a lucky die roll. Rowan leaned back in his chair, watching with open amusement as Hector rolled. The die clattered, and... Success! Hector stared at the board for a long moment, then leaned back with a slow breath.

  “Finally! That felt damn good.”

  Rowan lifted his mug in salute. “Notice how you won?”

  "Pretty sure you just let me win again, not that I am complaining.”

  “Ha, well maybe I did, hopefully you get better at this because I am not going to lie, this has been way to easy.”

  Wins and losses blurred together as the night stretched on. Laughter came easy; the weight of revelation eased, replaced by something closer to normalcy. For the first time in what felt like ages, Hector was not reacting to danger or planning his next survival move. He was just there, present, and having a great time with his new best buddy.

  By the time the drinks caught up to them, the board was a mess of scattered cards and abandoned tokens. Hector slumped back in his chair, head resting against the table's edge.

  “I am never trusting a dungeon that looks friendly,” he muttered.

  Rowan laughed loud. “That lesson alone was worth the game.”

  Sleep took them both not long after, but morning came fast. Instead of being greeted by breakfast, he found Rowan in front of the house, casting glyphs and magic to and fro. The yard was starting to look more like an overcrowded field with metal, plants, and other various contraptions spread about.

  “Getting ready to start a garage sale?”

  “Not sure what that is exactly, but no. I promised you training, and I am going to give you training.”

  Rowan finished the last glyph and stepped back, surveying the mess with visible satisfaction. A number of crude looking structures littered the grass. Living plants were also growing out of reinforced planters; their leaves thick and glossy with unnatural metallic shades.

  Hector raised a brow. “That is not training. That is an accident waiting for paperwork.”

  Rowan waved him off. “Everything is an accident until you survive it once.”

  He gestured toward the center of the yard. “Come on. The first lesson is simple. No magic, I want you to focus on your new body and stats.”

  Hector frowned. “That feels counterproductive.”

  He walked over and picked up a smooth stone about the size of Hector’s fist, then tossed it lightly into the air and caught it again.

  “Your new body skill does not care whether you mean to heal or harm. It cares about your intent. You need to get comfortable in your new skin.”

  He handed the stone to Hector.

  “Strength only, no skills, pick it up and crush it.”

  Hector blinked. “You just said I cannot hurt anything.”

  Rowan smiled. “The stone does not count.”

  Hector sighed and closed his fingers around it. He did not punch or flex violently. He simply tightened his grip. The stone cracked with a dry snap, splitting cleanly down the middle.

  Rowan nodded. “Good. Again.”

  They repeated the process for some time. Hector surprisingly began to notice a difference. His muscles braced before the effort. His bones felt… prepared? The force did not jar his joints. It flowed through him instead of stopping short.

  “That is your body agreeing with you. Making this skill your own will be the key to surviving, at least in the short term. I am sure you will dig up some more goodies before long with your luck.”

  He gestured toward one of the planters.

  “Now pick a leaf.”

  Hector plucked a single leaf from the plant. It wilted slightly at the edge.

  “Good, now heal it, make sure to reign in your Overheal.”

  Hector focused, just enough intent to restore what had been lost. The leaf stiffened as color returned.

  Rowan leaned closer. “Do you feel the difference?”

  Hector nodded slowly. “It wants to keep going...”

  “Yes, and you told it not to.”

  They moved through the morning like that. Punching stone without healing,

  reinforcing muscles without growth letting Emergency Heal activate, then shutting it down halfway. Each time Overheal pushed back, he had to assert control.

  Sweat soaked through his clothes. His breathing grew heavier. His focus wavered more than once. Every mistake earned a sharp cough or a pulled muscle.

  “This is why deviants die young, not because they are weak, but because they don't take time to understand their powers.”

  By midday, Hector sat on the grass, back against a crate, chest rising and falling steadily. He felt wrung out, but steady.

  “I am not good at this yet,” he said.

  Rowan snorted. “Good, that means you are still alive.”

  He offered Hector a mug.

  “No training this afternoon, your body needs time to integrate what you forced it to learn.”

  Hector took the drink and stared out over the mess of training equipment.

  “For the first time, it feels like my power is listening to me, at least a little, like I have more control.”

  Rowan clinked his mug against Hector’s.

  “Hopefully with a little more of that, you might actually come out as a semi-decent healer who can actually heal and punch, multi-functional!” Rowan teased.