Erik’s eyes widened as he read the intake summary, and kept drifting back to the “Decommissioned” comment. But it was the final lines that struck him as deeply odd. He was now certain that the bracketed messages were something he was not supposed to be seeing—or rather, they were something he was only seeing due to the legacy custodial role he was assigned. The term was confusing, and he had no idea why it had been assigned to him. Was everyone assigned a role? If so, why had his intake summary said that the visibility of his role was restricted? Every new bit of information seemed to lead to more questions.

  He hadn’t missed the fact that he’d dodged whatever an enforcement review was. Having seen how the System ‘enforced’ at the transit center, he could only feel relief at the thought. Erik tried to ignore his discomfort at the mention of a monitoring flag, since he didn’t fully understand what it meant and could do nothing about it. Above and beyond all of these concerns though, one single fact weighed on him.

  I’m a… custodian.

  In his experience, custodians were the people that cleaned up after hordes of nasty children. They swept, mopped, scrubbed, and otherwise disinfected. Given that Erik was something of a germaphobe, he wasn’t entirely opposed to the idea of cleaning, but he couldn’t help but feel a bit disappointed. He’d been inducted into the multiverse as the only survivor of his people, and he’d been immediately given a job as a janitor.

  My mom would be so proud.

  The thought hit him like a ton of bricks. Before he could dwell on it, the guide spoke once more.

  “Congratulations on your ignition; you’re now all officially Seeds. Before we wrap this up I need to teach you all the basic mana cycling technique. I’m sure you were all given cultivation manuals to follow, but all of those methods will be built on this one. It is the fundamental mechanic that all progression and mana-based combat is based on.”

  This time he was actually facing Erik’s direction, and Erik was suddenly struck by how scraggly looking the man’s beard was. His outfit was simple but elegant, tailored navy blue pants and a tight-fitting white shirt with a brown vest over it. Perfectly polished black boots gleamed in the light. The contrast was odd—clearly, he cared about his clothing, but his hair was unkempt and his beard was poorly tended.

  Not the time to be critiquing other people’s fashion choices. Much less when I’m walking around looking like I am.

  As if something of his thoughts were visible on Erik’s face, the man squinted at Erik slightly, before stroking his raggedy beard and continuing.

  “You can just stay where you are, this is very simple. Close your eyes and picture your mana conduits—your channels.”

  Erik quickly complied, his mana conduits and core springing to life in his mind the instant he willed it.

  “Now look at where the conduits loop through your hands. They should meet right at the palm and be brighter than they are in your arms or legs, right?” Not waiting for a reply, he continued, “If you focus on the soles of your feet and your forehead, you should see the same. These are the places most permeable to mana in all humanoid bodies—they are your mana gates.”

  The guide was right. When he focused on his palms, Erik could see that they were brighter than his arms and shoulders. His feet and head followed this pattern, with only the core itself glowing equally bright. Mana flowed slowly through the channels, filtering through his core in an endless cycle.

  Like a simplistic version of the circulatory system.

  He could also see small motes of light drifting in through the gates in his hands, feet, and head. Even as he noticed this he realized he could feel the mana entering his body, too. It was an oddly neutral sensation.

  “Right. Now, all you have to do is picture mana flowing from your core and out through your hands. That should vent it. Try it now.”

  Without opening his eyes, Erik did as the man said. He focused on the mana in his core, imagining it flowing through the circuit until it reached his hands and then exiting his body.

  The visualization was challenging for Erik, and it took him several tries before he felt it work. The mana flowed out of his hands. He opened his eyes and stared at his slightly glowing hands in wonderment. Instinctively, he felt that he could adjust the speed of the flow and venting rate.

  Erik looked around the room to see how the others were doing. Everyone else was finished, and Erik realized he might actually have been the last one to succeed. Several people looked excited and were moving their hands around, adjusting the brightness of the light they put off. A couple looked bored.

  They must be playing with the flow rate. So this makes our hands glow, good to know.

  The rude man from before was sneering at Erik, clearly having finished before him.

  “Okay now that you’re all done, go ahead and stop venting. Now, you need to try drawing. So, just picture mana flowing in through your hands and towards your core. Just pull a little bit, don’t overestimate yourselves.”

  Even though the guide hadn’t told them to, Erik closed his eyes again and brought up the mental picture of his mana circuits. The venting stopped as soon as he relaxed his pressure on his core, and Erik prepared to attempt drawing in mana.

  As he focused on his hands, he once again noticed that mana was already being drawn in.

  Weird that he didn’t mention that, but I guess everyone already knows this stuff.

  With a mental tug, he tried pulling mana in through his hand-gates. It shot into him with the force of a charging horse, slamming into his core and sending it spinning.

  Erik’s heart rate spiked as the mana continued to pour in and his core grew brighter and brighter.

  I’m panicking. It’s okay, I just have to stop taking in more mana.

  With that thought he focused on ending the flow of mana into his hands. As suddenly as it had commenced, the terrifying torrent of mana ended.

  The incident had left Erik’s core feeling too full and his hands shaking slightly.

  Didn’t think I was pulling that hard… why the hell didn’t he warn us that could happen?

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  Erik looked around the room cautiously, to see if anyone else was in a similar situation. He was the only one with his eyes open, as everyone else seemed to still be focused on drawing. The guide’s back was turned to him once again, thankfully.

  The uncomfortable tightness in his chest continued to grow, and Erik began to worry. He closed his eyes and looked inward, immediately seeing that his core had changed. It was an even brighter brilliant white, but when focused on it he could see that it seemed larger than before. The core felt… strained. Like an empanada with too much filling. It felt like it could split open at any moment.

  Erik could clearly see the problem—his body was continuing to draw in mana even after he had stopped the process.

  It’s like it’s leaking in through all of my gates. Did I mess something up?

  The last thought was worrisome, but as the pressure became acutely painful and his core seemed to throb, Erik knew he had to act. Doing the only thing he could think of, he began venting.

  The relief was instant, and Erik knew he had made the right choice.

  He opened his eyes and found that most people were done and the guide was looking at him a bit oddly, but he said nothing.

  A small, vindictive part of Erik was pleased to see that the rude guy was one of the last to finish. His face must have given some of his feelings away, for when the man saw Erik watching him he grew red and was visibly angry. He seemed to be winding himself up to go off on Erik again, but a pained groan from a cultivator to his left distracted them both.

  The man was swaying slightly and a line of blood was dripping from his nose. His hands were placed on either side of his forehead, as if he was intensely concentrating. The guide had clearly noticed as well and looked annoyed more than concerned. He marched over to the man and spoke in a commanding voice.

  “Vent. Now.”

  The man looked confused, clearly not fully understanding. Blood was pouring from not just his nose now, but his eyes and ears as well.

  The guide slapped him. “Vent!”

  Most of the cultivators looked shocked, but they said nothing as the confused man finally complied, his hands glowing a soft white.

  “You greedy little shit. I told you all not to overestimate yourselves, didn’t I? You were drawing through your head gate, weren’t you? That’s an advanced technique—not something for Seeds like you.”

  The other man spoke slowly, his words slightly slurred. “It’s a… family technique. Should have…”

  The guide shook his head in disgust, continuing in the same angry tone as before, “I don’t give a bog rats ass what it is. Even without knowing the specifics, I can tell you did it wrong. Get your ass over to a healer and get checked out. You’ll be lucky if it’s a minor deviation—I’d lay even odds on you getting kicked off the planet for a stunt like this.”

  He turned back to the rest of the cultivators, ignoring the man who now looked ashamed and worried as he staggered out of the room.

  “Remember this lesson well, Seeds. The System rewards those who progress and discards those who fail.” He looked each of them in the eye as he said this, and Erik made a quiet promise to remember it.

  So just stick to drawing through my hands, then. What could have gone wrong? He remembered the pain he’d experienced before venting and found himself wondering if he had almost ended up like the unfortunate man.

  The thought made his heartbeat spike as he realized he had no way of knowing how close he’d been to disaster. He would be sticking to the basic technique. Not that he had access to any other techniques, as everyone else seemed to.

  “Well, that’s it. You’re all sparked and ready to go out and cultivate. You’ve all checked out your System assignments?”

  At this, several people grumbled, but no one disagreed.

  Of course, Erik had no idea what they were talking about, until he remembered one of the odd lines from his intake summary.

  Service Assignment: Deferred

  While he didn’t know what that meant, Erik had no intention of asking here and now. He already felt like the odd man out and didn’t want to make things worse. Years of teaching had taught him how fast people turned on the ‘weird’ person, especially when they sensed weakness. And his brief interaction in the waiting room had made one thing clear: no one here was interested in helping him figure this out.

  I will figure it out on my own. Or maybe just ask someone when there’s not an audience.

  “A couple last reminders. Remember, growth is important, but so is survival. Don’t be like that idiot. You’re all fresh seeds. Powerful techniques are just that—powerful. They’re meant to be used by people with advanced cores and a deeper understanding of cultivation. Yes, it’s important to strain your core and conduits if you want them to grow, but this should be done as a part of a larger cultivation plan involving circulation and breathing patterns, cultivation aids, and so forth. Don’t just start trying to use advanced methods. I’m sure you all were given manuals with this information before coming here. Maybe try reading them before experimenting.” By the end of his warning, the man sounded exhausted, as if he’d seen this many times before.

  Erik furtively glanced around and saw that most people were nodding along. No one seemed concerned for the fate of the man who had left; rather, they all looked determined not to make his mistakes.

  “Other than your System assignments, you’re free to use your downtime as you wish. I’d recommend checking out the quest board outside the Hall and around the corner to the left. The quests will take you places with denser mana than we have in town, so it’s worth heading out for the cultivation opportunities alone. The credits don’t hurt, either.” The man concluded this short speech with a chuckle, and several of the group joined him.

  Erik was too focused on the mention that everyone was expected to have come with cultivation manuals to think about credits and mana densities.

  The session was clearly over, and people began to leave, some of them thanking the guide on the way out. Erik lingered, hoping to ask the man a few questions once there were fewer people.

  Soon, he was the last person in the room with the man, who looked at him impatiently.

  “Do you need something?”

  “Well, honestly, I was hoping you could answer a couple of questions. I’m new to all of this. I don’t know if you heard, but—”

  “Yeah I heard, a lottery survivor. That’s a tough break,” the man interjected with a small shrug. “I’m technically off-duty now but I can answer a couple questions, I guess. Just keep it quick, I have things to do.”

  Erik felt a rush of gratitude as a tension he didn’t know he’d been holding in was released.

  “Thanks, man. You mentioned manuals and cultivation aids. I don’t know anything about that, and I don’t have any… so what should I do?”

  “Yeah, it’s not an easy road for people like you. Surely you have some knowledge of your former homeworld’s main cultivation techniques, at your age. I’d just fall back on that. I can’t give you cultivation advice or teach you anything, other than that simple technique for hand-based cultivation that the System provides”, the guide replied in a slightly impatient tone, glancing towards the door. “Your best shot for getting access to cultivation materials would be through the Intake Tournament.”

  There’s that tournament again. It keeps coming up. Erik could sense that the man was reaching the end of his patience.

  “How should I prepare for the tournament? What can I expect?”

  The guide looked fully at Erik and said, “Focus on earning credits, because resources aren’t free. Your job will pay you some, and the System probably gave you some startup money, what with you being a lottery survivor. But it won’t be much and it won’t last. I don’t know how much combat experience you have, but…” his eyes looked Erik up and down in the same way others had been doing since he arrived before he continued, “... I’d suggest you run some quests. It’s just a series of fights, and from what I saw, you’ll have some tough competition this year. Lots of big names in this batch of Seeds. Good luck out there, kid.”

  The man lightly brushed past Erik and out through the entrance door. Erik followed him out into the main hall and then slowed, watching as the man hustled away. As he stood thinking about all the new information, he remembered what Galdus had said about the tournament.

  Killing is strongly discouraged. Discouraged—but not prohibited.

  He’d never faced the prospect of having to fight for his life before—but it sounded like in just one he would be doing exactly that.

  Quests. I need to run quests.