Cain sat on the interior floor of the wardrobe long after the others had gone quiet.
Takkar’s breathing had evened out into a shallow, pained rhythm. His wounds had mostly recovered after liberal usage of health potions, but he still needed time to rest. Bill had wedged himself into a corner, one massive arm draped over his eyes. Rikta sat with her back to the wall, knees pulled to her chest, staring at nothing. Lorian slept fitfully, twitching erratically.
The foxkin, as usual, was the only one who looked comfortable.
Cain didn’t close his eyes.
He couldn’t.
The mountain was still too close in his mind. He could almost hear stone grinding and feel pressure building.
‘This is impossible,’ he thought.
Who knew if it would always be that way…
But it was impossible right now.
He opened his status window.
Screens popped up across his vision.
…
=Available Upgrade Targets=
->Multi-Fireball+1 (Rank 30/-):
+100: Grants all fireballs a chance to spawn a chain fireball that seeks the next target within range.
->Infinite Wardrobe+1:
+10: Gain remote access to all items bound to the infinite wardrobe.
->Execute+2 (Rank 4/100):
+50: Gain the ability to manually activate or deactivate Execute when attacking a target below the health threshold.
->Sinbound Flames (Rank 2/100)
+100: Upgrade Sinbound Flames -> Sinbound Hellfire
->Flickerflame (17/100)
+5: Allow fire spells to teleport a second time for an extreme mana cost.
->Stealth +1 (4/100)
+5: Become partially invisible while active.
->Nimble Hands (10/100)
+1: Further improve dexterity and enhance precision.
->Trap Perception (9/100)
+1: Improve detection range and speed for magical and physical traps.
->Enhanced Fire Magic (10/100)
+10: Increase base fire spell power and quality by 20% -> 30%.
->Ignite (16/100)
+5: Every fire spell now deals two instances of Ignite.
->Emberheart (5/100)
+10: Buff cap increased from 3 to 4 stacks.
->Oath of Ash (5/100)
+100: [LOCKED]
->Five Mortal Steps (1/5)
+100,000: [LOCKED]
->Avatar Creation +1:
+10: Increase Avatar Rank.
…
The list scrolled into view, familiar and infuriating all at once.
The options were power, utility, temptation.
But he couldn’t rush.
He skimmed through the options first, noting their possibilities. He could buff the speed, power, or utility of his fire. He could go for more passive upgrades to his Thief-type skills. Most of the options would make his next fight louder, faster, and more spectacular.
But none of the options listed would have mattered in Voskeg.
None of them would have changed the outcome.
His eyes stopped on the bottom of the list.
->Avatar Creation +1:
+10: Increase Avatar Rank.
He leaned back against the wardrobe’s inner wall, folding his arms.
Increase Avatar Rank.
There was a section of his status window that referenced his Avatar Rank, but it didn’t provide any information on what it did or how it would benefit him.
->Bloodline: Avatar Rank 1 (Hidden – Basic), Human (Pure)
He avoided this upgrade the last time he was looking at skills.
Because if he was being honest, he didn’t actually know what he was.
Not entirely, at least.
He knew he was real. He felt pain, exhaustion, and fear. He bled. He almost died under a mountain that very much wanted him crushed into paste.
But he could also tell that this body wasn’t the core.
Neither of his bodies were.
Cain glanced at the others.
‘If an avatar dies, can it be resummoned?’
He hadn’t experienced that yet.
‘If all of my avatars die, is that the end?’
There was no way to know for sure until he experienced it. Maybe other Overseers would have the answer, but he wasn’t exactly on a first-name basis with any of them.
But perhaps he could receive a hint through this upgrade?
He selected Avatar Creation +1.
Notably, the world did not explode in the aftermath.
There was no surge of power, no flood of sensation. Instead, something clicked—not in his body, but in his awareness, like a diagram snapping into focus.
New text unfurled before him.
=Avatar Rank increased: 1->2=
=You have gained increased avatar integrity.=
=Combat penalties from severe injuries are reduced.=
=Control under stress, pain, and fatigue has been improved.=
=You now have low resistance to forced termination effects.=
=Physical, magical, and spiritual recovery rates have improved.=
The body settles faster after being damaged, as if the seams holding it together no longer fray as easily.
It wasn’t a sensation he had words for at first. It was like… the absence of static. The constant, low-grade tension he’d grown used to carrying in his body eased, as if something unseen had tightened a few loose bolts along his spine.
He inhaled.
The breath went deeper than he expected.
He blinked and straightened slowly, testing his balance. His body responded immediately, smoothly, without resistance he hadn’t even realized was there. There was no protest from abused muscles or lingering tremor in his legs. Even the ache in his joints from overusing Breakstep felt… muted. It was still there, but pushed back, like pain viewed through thick glass.
“Huh…” he muttered.
He clenched his fist.
The familiar strength answered, unchanged, but the subtle delay between intent and motion was reduced. Compared to before, it felt like he’d been driving a stolen vehicle, and now he was driving his own car.
Cain closed his eyes.
Normally, doing that after a fight was a gamble. The nightmares lurking in the mind would leap on such an opportunity, scattering his thoughts that couldn’t be anchored.
This time, the noise didn’t rush in.
He was still exhausted.
The memories were still there.
But they stayed where he put them.
He focused on the ache in his ribs, the phantom pressure where stone had crushed down on him. His body acknowledged it, catalogued it… and moved on.
It was just information.
That scared him more than the pain ever had.
He opened his eyes again and looked down at his hands.
They were steady.
A thought surfaced unbidden, sharp and unwelcome.
‘Is this what it means to lose your humanity…?’
He flexed his shoulders, then rolled his back. The lingering stiffness faded faster than it should have.
“This is going to take some getting used to,” he said quietly.
His gaze settled on the status window again, rereading the upgrade text with new understanding. Increasing his avatar rank wasn’t about raw power or winning fights.
It was about endurance.
It would allow him to remain functional when any normal body would have already failed.
Harder to interrupt.
Harder to stop.
He dismissed the window and leaned back, staring at the ceiling.
A faint, passing thought brushed his mind.
‘If this is Rank 2… what does the next rank feel like?’
And there was another note on his status.
Bloodline: Avatar Rank 2 (Hidden – Basic)
This was just a ‘Basic’ Avatar.
What would it feel like to upgrade to the next level?
But he didn’t linger on it.
Because his eyes slid back to the skill list, and the newly revealed text told him that progressing on that path would not be so easy.
->Avatar Creation +2:
+100: [LOCKED]
He hadn’t figured out the secret behind any of his locked progression paths yet. Until he stumbled on the way forward for at least one of them, they were all outside of his reach.
Cain let the status window fade, but he didn’t move.
The wardrobe was quiet.
It wasn’t silent—there were still breaths, small shifts of fabric, and the faint creak of wood adjusting under weight—but it felt contained, like a room that existed.
He ran a hand along the inner wall.
The wood was warm and smooth beneath his palm, polished as if it were painstakingly maintained.
His gaze drifted back to the skill list, and this time it didn’t linger on any of the combat improvements.
It went straight to the thing that had defied causality to save his life at least twice now.
->Infinite Wardrobe+1:
+10: Gain remote access to all items bound to the infinite wardrobe.
The new function itself would be incredibly useful. Not having to summon the wardrobe every time he wanted to retrieve an item was a huge quality-of-life upgrade, and it would reduce the risk of using it significantly.
Beyond that…
Everything they’d just survived—the avalanche, the krakens… and before that, his raid on the skillpoint farms—none of it had ended because he was stronger. It ended because he could leave. Because he had somewhere absolute to retreat to.
He escaped because this thing existed.
So there was no point in hesitating.
He selected Infinite Wardrobe.
The response was immediate.
The interior of the wardrobe changed. The space seemed to deepen, as if the walls had taken a half-step back without actually moving. The air thickened for a moment, then settled.
Lines appeared.
There were real seams in the wood grain, thin and precise, like the joints of a master-crafted box aligned perfectly. Cain watched as one of the inner panels slid a fraction of an inch, then locked into place with a soundless click.
New text unfolded before his eyes.
=Infinite Wardrobe +2=
->Description: An indestructible wardrobe that can contain an infinite amount of clothing, armor, and miscellaneous items. The wardrobe has the following enhancements:
->Indestructible: All items are impervious to damage.
->Automatic Size Regulation: All items automatically adjust to the user’s size and shape.
->Automatic Cleansing: All items are clean and fresh while stored in the wardrobe.
->Bind: Items can be bound and unbound from the wardrobe, granting or removing the wardrobe’s enchantments.
->Remote Access: Items bound to the wardrobe can be remotely retrieved or stored without summoning the wardrobe.
Cain reached out experimentally and imagined retrieving a jacket that was hanging on a hook nearby.
The sensation was subtle. There wasn’t a portal or noticeable distortion. The request simply… completed. The folded fabric appeared in his hands as if it had always been there.
He stared at it for a second.
Then let out a quiet, incredulous huff.
“Of course,” he muttered. “That would’ve been useful earlier.”
If he’d just upgraded his skills first, he wouldn’t have had to risk showing the wardrobe in front of Kelsey…
But hindsight was almost always clearer than the future.
The foxkin shifted where she sat, her eyes widening as she examined the wardrobe around them. “You changed it.”
“Yeah,” Cain said. “I got better control over it.”
She smiled faintly, but her eyes were sharp.
He dismissed the item, watching curiously as it reappeared on its hook.
Then he checked the skill list again.
The part he was most curious about:
What would the next upgrade for the Infinite Wardrobe be?
->Infinite Wardrobe+2:
+100: Upgrade Infinite Wardrobe -> Infinite Wardrobe+3: Dimensional Seam.
“…Can I view the effect?” he wondered.
As if responding to his question, the window shifted.
=Infinite Wardrobe+3: Dimensional Seam=
-Cost: 100 skill points-
->Description: You may now create wardrobe anchors at chosen locations. Each anchor is tethered to the Infinite Wardrobe’s shared inventory. Anchors may be disguised as wardrobes, doors, or mirrors, and may only be accessed by users you designate.
You may choose to instantly transport yourself to a wardrobe anchor with a long cooldown.
The world is stitched together by those who carry their burdens with style.
“Holy shit…”
His breath caught.
Anchors.
Chosen locations.
Instant transport.
He didn’t need to imagine the implications. They slammed into place on their own.
Safehouses.
Extraction points.
Guaranteed retreats.
Cross-continent movement without roads, borders, or permission.
This was a way to move people.
A way to move secrets.
A way to never be cornered again.
His gaze snapped to the top of the status window.
->Unused Skill Points: 88.93
“…Fuck,” he whispered.
‘If I hadn’t upgraded Avatar Creation first—’
He stopped that thought before it could finish.
The avatar upgrade mattered. He could feel that now, through the impacts it had on his body.
That choice hadn’t been wrong.
But the timing…
He leaned his head back against the wardrobe wall and closed his eyes.
Even if he hadn’t upgraded the avatar skill, he’d still be just over one skill point away.
It could’ve been one point, but now it was ten points.
Just over ten skill points separated him from something that would fundamentally change how he moved through the world.
His fingers curled slowly against the floor.
The skill list was still there.
He could afford most of the upgrades listed.
Improved fire, stealth, precision, power…
All of it was tempting.
All of it was reachable.
But he ignored them.
“I’m not touching anything else,” he decided.
It was settled.
The foxkin tilted her head. “Even though you could?”
“Especially because I could.”
He looked at the Dimensional Seam upgrade again.
“This,” he said, tapping the air where the text hovered, “is the kind of thing to build around. Everything else can wait.”
Her smile widened.
“So,” she said lightly. “You can see where the story wants to go now?”
He shook his head.
“No,” he replied. “Not in the short term, at least. But I can see a future beyond that.”
He dismissed the skill window entirely.
He wasn’t stronger yet.
But he could feel the shape of what came next.
It would be a while before he challenged Voskeg again.
And when he did, he would have full control over the momentum.
Project Knightfall 