The Game: Aether and Mind

A familiar crack rang out, and one last, ghastly breath of the frozen tundra enveloped my sinewy flesh before the warming rays of sun bathed the frost and ice that accumulated on my fur.

I still felt weightless, almost like an idle watcher staring at a screen late at night, seeing but not actively participating in the surrounding world. I sighed with pleasure as peace once more was present and my senses calmed down. With a nod, my equipment left me and returned to the inventory, though one thing did come out of it: My mirror.

I opened my eyes and took in the scenery of life in abundance and overflow. The green forest tufts felt like silken bliss under my frost-bitten hooves, the silence outside of the buzzing of bees and chirping birds felt soothing compared to the raging snow storm, though the gentle winds still caused me to tighten my body in response nonetheless. The trees formed a sort of roof, but the canopy itself was rather sparse, but their crowns spread out like umbrellas, though the crooked nature of the bark and the twisting roots that partially spread above ground like hundreds of snakes and vines did intrigue me.

I raised an eyebrow and turned around to face my mirror, though before the reflecting surface met my eye, I noticed, far off, the beginnings of what appeared to be a great bog. The dampness of the surroundings, the stagnant waters overflowing with algae, and the density of the trees all grew almost suffocating just by looking at it.

I let out a slow, defeated sigh and rubbed my hoof over my face in annoyance before my gaze returned to the mirror, and the changes became apparent. I did grow, and more than just by a measly bit, I think I was larger than a great majority of the adults. Maybe I was even taller than Sugar Drop... maybe not, she grows like a fungus, I think in five or ten years she might look Celestia in the eyes. Looking back at my body, I saw that my muscles were defined and dense, like a mix between a bodybuilder and a furniture mover, and when I looked down at my abdomen, even through my fur I could peek at the outlines of what appeared to have been a six-pack, though more may have been hiding.

My limbs and bones as well thickened and widened, most pronounced however were my chest and shoulder, both having broadened. And my face, I still could only guess about pony beauty since all my senses were based around their awareness, not so much feeling them, but I dared to say that if human features roughly translated to a pony's beauty ideal, I was quite the looker. My jawline was strong and sharp, well defined, as were my cheekbones, pleasantly highlighting my long hair and the beginnings of a goatee.

'Maybe I had underestimated charisma a bit too much, although I'd turn all of my charisma points into intelligence or strength any day, I'd rather be an ugly hunter than a beautiful corpse.' I thought intensely while dragging the tip of my hoof across my jawline, feeling the defined curves of my skull.

This body has been empowered according to the gained attribute points. The Game noted, almost seemingly in an attempt to extinguish my surprise, given that it was a numbers game and I could see my stats as clear as day. You have reached the maximum level for the classes: [Warrior] and [Arcanist], would you like to hear their evolution options?

I gave a pause, and retracted my limbs back onto the ground, before raising a brow and staring at the hallucinated image of the Game floating within the mirror. "Evolution you say, what would change?"

All previously gained abilities from the base class are kept, the evolution will also feature boosts to stats at least of the intensity of the base class. Choosing a class for the second stage will lock you out of the other options, however, you will gain skills and perks from that class particularly. Chose after your approach in battle.

"Alright, what are my options for the warrior class?"

[Warning, this next part is very focused on an explanation of the individual capabilities of the classes. You may skip this part if you are not interested. You will miss nothing of the story and still be able to understand John's choice.]

Arcanimancer, Quantanist, Primancer, Battle Sorcerer [&]

I stared at the various classes, and though there was a hint of child-like anticipation growing within me, however, it was mostly confusion swelling in my skull. "I'm going to be serious, I have no idea what most of those mean.

That is expected, we are now well beyond what your former race commonly understands under magic." Wonder painted my tongue as I tapped the tip of my hoof against my left cheek, staring at these titles and only vaguely guessing what each specialized in.

Arcanimancer is a direct evolution of the Arcanist, it does not widen out but rather chooses to expand on the arcane powers of the users, mainly the use of pure mana to create spells. It is straightforward to use, however not the most powerful overall, but reliable in combat.
- Int *4
- Wis *3

The Quantanist utilizes cosmic powers to-

"Wait a second there, Quantanist? That's the name for this class, why not call it Cosmancer?" I interrupted and asked with confusion.

The Cosmancer is an evolution of the Quantanist, though this third tier is... not advisable. The Game finished his curt sentence with a bitter tone.

Regardless, the Quantanist utilizes cosmic powers to manipulate space. You will find that some classes border in their powers with others, their root with the manipulation of natural forces expands on that of the arcanist. In this class, the Quantanist mainly focuses around the transforming of their magic to conjure certain phenomena, or events similar to them.
- Int *5
- Wis *2

The Primancer mainly uses primordial powers to distort and momentarily deform the surroundings, such as gravity, light, and space. Unlike the Arcanimancer and the Quantanist, this class focuses less on the construct, set spells, and formulas and centers more so around intuitive manipulation and quick-acting, however,it is less powerful on its own than other classes of this stage.
- Int *2
- Wis *5

Lastly, there is the Battle Sorcerer, which is a dual class in which two classes become one and was made available after the criteria of possessing one magically centered class and a physical one at their max level has been fulfilled. The Battle Sorcerer combines destructive spells, buffs, and magically empowered physical attacks under one umbrella. Combined classes allow for the greatest number of active attribute boosts and the widest array of skills, even making certain skills of other classes available, however, you can only reach the highest skills of a class by actually possessing them, meaning that their power stems less so of their own merit, but the combined effort.
- Int *2.5
- Wis *2
- Str *2.5
- End *2
- Dex *2

My brows sank, and I stared into my reflected eyes, at times staring at the curvature of my horn before switching back to my muscles. I thought back to my previous battles, times where specialization allowed me to crush my opponent, but also moments where my wide array of skills allowed me to best superior foes. But, I can't really remember where just one class could carry me, it was always a combined effort...

"Sure, those do sound nice but..." I started, and the initial excitement had worn off as I sat down in a particularly cushy spot of moss. Maybe I had grown a bit spoiled or even stagnant, but I wasn't all too excited. Perhaps it was the fact that I had to lock out the option, but I couldn't quite pinpoint what exactly it was. "Arcanimancer, Quantanist and Primancer are all specializations following the arcanist, like bamboo. They grow vertically, not horizontally. Their power lies within their few, but powerful skills, yes?"

Indeed, just like an occupation, they specialize in certain fields. The Game summed up.

"And Battle Sorcerer is the opposite, it features huge stat boosts, but has more, but weaker skills." I asked, the Game blinked in agreement. "If we follow the trend of bigger spells requiring more mana and cast time, does that apply to those three as well?" Once more, the agreement remained true.

I whistled, at times just blowing out air while staring at those classes with, I couldn't quite describe it, but it was almost akin to annoyance. They were all powerhouses in their own right, but outside of the Primancer they kind of didn't kindle my soul. They seemed like they were useful in a battle with a living opponent, be it meat shield hordes or singular heroes, but I wasn't a blast-it-all-away kind of fighter. I went in, crippling my enemy bit by bit before executing them.

Morbid, yes, but that's how I fought nightmares. Sure, weaker ones you can just smother like a fly, but bigger ones that have skills on their side and are usually superior in one or several attributes many times over can't be blown to bits, maybe it will do with most of them, but those that don't? Well, in my eyes you can't always cure cancer with widespread, brute force, but need surgical precision.

My choice was by far not made yet, however, for if a good match shows itself with the warrior side of things, then I could possibly choose Primancer to enhance my physical fighting power, or take Arcanimancer or Quantanist to back up my strikes.

"Show me the options for the warrior class."

Naturally.

Berserker, Champion, Knight, Battle Sorcerer [&]

The Berserker is one of the most basic stage 2 classes, though also one of the most powerful if able to be controlled. This class possesses only a few skills and focuses on a resource called rage, which can be used to use certain abilities, and empower other skills or even yourself, but come at the cost of control. Even I cannot control wrath made incarnate, though likely neither do most of your foes.
- End *4
- Str*4

The Champion is a diverse fighter class that uses any tool at their disposal. It specializes in a balanced fighting-style centered mainly around quick strikes and heavy defense. Its skills are mainly centered around boosting normal attacks and basic skills. It's not a very complex class; however, it does not have many risks or cracks in the majority of situations.
- End *3
- Str*3
- Dex *1.5

The Knight is a class that's reliant on skillful fighting and proficiency with swords and heavy armor, including shields. It possesses great defense and powerful skills but possesses the least offensive capabilities of the three options, for it mainly boosts the usage of existing items, and also relies more heavily on them.
- End *7
- Str*1.5

"Alright, you can already scratch away Berserker and Knight, those absolutely clash with my fighting style." I said with a squinted visage and swiped my hoof horizontally through the air.

Are you sure, their downsides may be heavy, but both rely on clever usage. The Game said, less so like a persuasive businessman, and more so of a mother asking if a child can be bothered to take an umbrella with them.

"Yep, like, if I was fighting just mortal creatures, I'd go for Knight any day. Being a skilled combatant with an unbreakable hide, that'd be, and please excuse my child-like demeanor at the thought of being a freaking knight, awesome. It's a bad idea against nightmares, however. Like, even at low levels, their stats are like double mine at that level. They possess too much brute force and require brutal efficiency, devastating strikes, and no mercy. A Knight? No, those would be crushed like tin cans, and as for the Berserker?"

"Take everything I just said about killing nightmares, and add to the fact that I don't want to be any closer than-than I already am." I said, stuttering once, and held my hoof to my chest. In a sense, I was already more akin to a nightmare than I was a pony or human, given that I was just a moment ago falling apart, like a corpse without constantly being held together by Aether, even a few seconds were enough that my flesh started to decay and my body began breaking down.

"And Champion? Well, he does fill out most criteria, but once again just doesn't fit my tastes. Sure, items are nice and all, but I am not defensive, I am quick and evasive, I only use the shield for utility, emergency or devastating attacks, but not really for normal defense. And yes, better basic skills are good, but not if it doesn't grow in the direction I need. A Shinobi would fit, or even a Reaper if we go by the rules of that one game I played, I forget what it was called, basically classes that do brutal damage to quickly impair foes and execute them. No need for honor, rage or balance."

I see, very well. Continue.

I shook my head and stared at the classes once more. I really wanted Primancer, even the other two classes would be useful, but I cannot let my Warrior side of things decay.

"Wait, why is that my selection?"

Shinobi and the Reaper class are stage two classes, following respectively the Ninja and Doom Singer, both classes can only be accessed through [...] Oh, I wasn't aware that this information was in any way crucial enough for me to be censored. Astoundance echoed through the Game, and silence followed. Let me word it differently, if you advance further in the dungeons, you will find your answer on how to... Get them. The last bit was hacked off, though I can't tell if the Game did it himself, or if he once again was silenced. This was worse than the censorship of the communist community of Laos. The 2040s were such a fun time.

"Alright, the warrior side of things does not fit with me at all I'm afraid, nothing fits my tastes while the arcanist side is an all you can order buffet. Magic and ~~violent~~ fighting have been two of my three important pillars of battle until now, and I cannot let one crumble for the benefit of another. I bid the awesomeness of the Arcanmancer, Qui-Qua-Quant-fuck, the second option and the Primancer oh sweet gravity magic goodbye." I said bitterly and wiped away a tear caused by the profuse amounts of pollen, nothing but pollen and only pollen, before sighing loudly.

"I choose Battle Sorcerer."

I took a sharp breath, only to find that regardless of how much air I pulled in, my lungs seemed to never fill entirely. My body shook like a pudding, like sleeping on a water bed during an earthquake; I felt as if my very bones were quivering and such heat radiated from me, that the stench of charring moss smoked out through my nostrils. I jumped up from my position, witnessing how the very grass I stood upon swiftly grew gray and black, before, in an act of profound irrationality and need, I hurled myself into the bog.

My head bobbed out of the water, and I saw how steam rose from the water and the smell of algae filled the little haven with a truly natural stench.

With a sigh, I pulled myself out of the water and trotted back to the mirror, while sheets of plant matter and the occasional leach unable to penetrate my hide flopped onto the ground like a wet piece of rubber.

I flickered my vision across the mirror, only to stop in my tracks and fiercely look at the changes made. My eyes radiated light, it wasn't a very strong light, almost like a barely but constant glowing glimmer in the depths of my irises, while my horn was now truly curved, unlike the slight crookedness I had before, but what intrigued me was the shallow, spiraled indentation circling my horn from base to tip.

We will review the level one skills of the Battle Sorcerer at another time. Attention, your level, and your attributes have reached a high enough level to evolve. Do you wish to review the options?

"What, even more?" I asked with fear quivering in my voice as I felt the turmoil within my soul. I could only quiver, which was quite ironic for the one holding the heritage of wishing to ever-advance myself.

The requirements for evolving a race are reaching level 50 and ascending a class to stage two. Attributes, Classes, Skills, and actions decided the available option. This one is simpler, simply choose the race: Battlecorn.

"Huh?" I asked loudly

Oh, let me repeat myself. The only logical solution would be Battlecorn.

"I, uh, yes, just surprised at the directness, that's all. You're usually less assertive in such matters."

Maybe I am, but in this case, it is this direct. Your first choice, Ivory Steed multiplies both Intelligence and Wisdom by *2. The second one is the crystal unicorn, a race that boosts intelligence and Wisdom by *3, and also increases your mana by quite a bit, but it comes at the cost of a 20 percent reduction in health.

I raised my hoof, but I was steamrolled when the Game continued to talk.

The Iron Unicorn does not greatly focus on magic, it’s a sub-species that grew up in the far north, much closer to disruptive ley lines, resulting in only a little fitness, though it does possess brute force in the arcane arts, it's mainly a very sturdy unicorn. Int *1.5. Strength and Endurance are multiplied by *2.

"And the Battlecorn is?-"

Was. It was a race of unicorns bred through generations with the sole intent of creating powerful warriors, living war machines if you will, however, they are too powerful for a mortal being as their creation is faulty. Their bones are bulky, but not as dense as they should be and their enormous strength and great magical power come at great costs in the form of health problems. Listing them now: Blindness, arthritis, muscle spasms, wrong bone growth, impotence, heart attacks, low infant mortality, and short lives.

"But we aren't affected by those troubles, meaning that it possesses great stat boosts?" I was a bit intimidated to open my mouth.

Indeed. This class was unlocked by reaching a great number of attributes in Strength, Intelligence, Wisdom, and Endurance, but also because of your previous use of mixed combat between Magic and Physical forces. Your choice for Battle Sorcerer was the last required step to unlock it. The Battlecorn boasts a multiplier of *3 in Strength, Endurance, Intelligence, and Wisdom.

My jaw dropped when I heard this multiplier. My current one for unicorn heritage was just a 25% increase in Intelligence, this would throw my entire world forward. Of course, it made sense, I possessed a bottom of the barrel body, while each of the advanced classes was bred through generations to achieve their standing.

Despite that, I'd still be entire leagues behind Twilight's f☆cking multiplier of *5!

"But, how does that work, I mean, they have been dead for ages!" I cried out with confusion as my head started to swell... I think the nerves in my horn had more connections than my brain right now...

Cause and causation. The Changeling DNA we were forced to acquire would allow us to biologically become one, and once we have, the belief of others would be enough to award us their boosts. Battlecorns, although long extinct, are still featured in over fourteen still quite popular legends told to every foal, adult, and even senior. I can easily create its blueprint from the memories still lingering, and the entity Princess Celestia is still a living connection to them.

"Oh, right, Her." I said with a slump as I felt a sudden weight crush my spine and invoked a pitiful shiver from my depths as the taste of ink and paper became ever more apparent in my mouth. "Alright, Battlecorn me!"

.

..

...

John, I will say this as kindly as I can as your inhabitant, partner, and friend. This should be not done in the material plane, and most certainly not while awake. You don't want to be awake.

"Ehm... Why the sudden... The sudden grim tone?" I asked with confusion, as I put the mirror back into my inventory and looked with concern as I saw the hallucinatory form of the game float just a bit over my head in front of me.

This is not plastic surgery, I am not building an extension, your body does not possess a viable genetic code, it can neither morph or evolve, it isn't rapid evolution or anything of equal. I need to completely rework your silhouette to make the adaptation possible. Yes, after this configuration you could morph into the [Battlecorn] or even the [Changeling???] easily, however, protocol demands that I remove unusable data.

I opened my mouth, only for realization to hit me with dread.

The moment I disconnect us from this body, it will rot. It will fall apart while configuring and even if that seemed bearable in some slight notion, the process then is a visceral one. Every aspect of the unicorn race needs to be purged, not an inkling of data may remain, thus the orders demand, for it may lead to corruption, or a hindrance of growth, consuming my resources just by being stored. Once Battlecorn, meaning after the reconfiguration, you could change freely between those aforementioned races, but after this choice, the process from unicorn to any of the two, be it just for time being or easier transition will be...

Brutal. I wish you to be spared the details of how purging data within me will affect the physical body bound to it, so let me put it that way. In any horror movie, their most gruesome death will seem like pleasure, torture on the most amoral stage like theater. The butchering of sadism like goodnight stories, and radiation mutations like a little itch. This body will break down, dissolve, crumble into a mass that maybe, under the trained eye of a surgeon, will be distinguishable as once momentarily a pony. And from this biomass will I form a body for us to inhabit, an exterior stomach turned womb.

My face, frozen still and morphed into a wrinkled parody, let only a pathetic, quiet, yet high-pitched tone out that somewhat resembled air escaping from a poorly pinched balloon. "I... I-urhg! I think I'mgonna vomit. I take zombie guts over your talk any day. Oh, heavens have mercy on me, I can feel how if any deity does exist it turned away for a couple of moments."

"Why?!" I snapped at the Game, quickly turning towards the mirror with anger.

If I were a symbiont of genetical or at the very least physical nature then yes, but given that you don't possess a genetic code there is nothing to advance here outside of just increasing their effectiveness, just destruction, and rebuilding.

"A-...and this is safe?" My voice quivered, for I felt now just as helpless as I did as a foal when I first met with Celestia. This imposing, seemingly unreachable hurdle.

This is not surgery, neither genetics or birthing are at play, I work with absolute certainty. I built this body you inhabit, this vessel of the flesh and bone that died when its heart formed closer akin to a sponge than a pump and it didn't even possess any cartilage-based body parts or even eyes. Your body will be made, and it will be perfect without blemish, unafflicted by already existing impairments, lack of resources, or even negative memories and emotions towards a fetus born of drug usage and broken dreams. The weak flaw only exists on the current meta-physical scale and can be removed without any lasting consequences.

And the transition will be a safe journey, just like when you first took my tendrils in the chamber of my housing. You will not die, for even when your flesh will fail, you will slumber within me until the body is ready.

My facial expression sluggishly relaxed and somberness overtook my senses in an attempt to drown out the growing dread of hopelessness; of a lack of control. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. "Game..."

And a shattering erupted from the world around me as the soothing winds and warming rays of light left me.

"Await me please." I felt clear how defeated my voice sounded, though I had a choice. I already made my mind up long ago that I'd overcome any hurdle to grow stronger. And if it meant giving up a bit of control momentarily, I would give in. Despite all the terrors, all the horrors that this rotting universe presented to me on a crooked pig iron pan, I couldn't deny that the sensation of power and control over my own path was sweeter than anything else. I lived my old life with no control, fighting for scraps to afford the loftiest of niceties for my sister, but as the Host, I had the power, influence, and control over my life, not driftwood in an unforgiving sea but a ship sailing. And regardless of how many planks you may replace on a ship, it remains the same ship in my eyes.

I opened my eyes and stared upon my surroundings, the throne room now made almost regal with decorations, statues of various fabled beasts, woven tapestry on the floor and the walls, and great engraved and painted scenes of the universe in all of this falling and rising glory. I turned myself and to the entrance previously hidden by a woven carpet, now a carved pathway and walked down the many stairs.

I didn't look at the other renovations I made over the years. Not sparing a glance at the working area, the new place of preparation for brewing and magic, the open space for the forge to be or my bedroom to still be used, I walked past it all to a secluded area.

Behind a heavy door lay a carved room only decorated with a little furniture, but a shallow pool of steaming water awaited me, for the heated crystal warmed the liquid by absorbing the ambient mana. I sighed with pleasure as I descended into the pool, but it now was too small, though I didn't walk here to bathe, just to rest.

I laid down, and the water embraced me, but was far from drowning me, as I stared at the glowing crystal in the ceiling, and closed my eyes. I didn't need to say anything, as I sailed once more past the mortal plain. I forfeit my flesh as I did in the past, giving up my body for power, but it didn't matter, for my race never defined me. Past horrors and agony unspoken to truly sleep once more, and I'd return to awaken to a new me, but still me. The same John Weaver, the same Star Touch, the Host of the Game, son of Gentle Touch, and perhaps on a crumpled page in the book of Fate the Prince of this pony land.