One Week Later

The next week passed without any real developments in most regards. Avoiding Frank was a pain, as always, Wentworth hadn't spoken to John about anything besides schoolwork, there were no new developments from Liam, and he had no updates from the Order on progress being made in the search for June. Hell, he barely saw Moira, let alone talked to her. Even in school he rarely caught more than a glimpse of her, including the times he tried to grab her attention. Texting wasn't much better; he got responses, but they were terse and dismissive. She kept saying she was busy, but never said what with and deflected any questions regarding the topic. The only thing she said that counted as actual communication was to make sure he was attending his training sessions with Erica.

In short, she was really starting to piss him off.

Training, both with and without Erica, was the only noteworthy aspect of the last few days. After the harrowing ordeal that was the Kobold Barrier, John had decided to take it slow and not try to step up the difficulty just yet. Even so, the Slime Dungeon was too much for him and his lack of magic attacks. Cutting them down hurt them, but also caused them to split. He was only able to defeat the first two after they had spawned a few dozen mini-Slimes, each with their own drive to devour him. Eventually, after no small amount of panic, they became too small to split further and stayed dead, but it had cost him most of his hp. Luckily Exit Instance worked and he was able to escape without any further trouble. The Goblin Pit and Den of Wolves followed, both a struggle but much easier, and earned him a fresh level along with a few equipment upgrades.

Sessions with Erica and Adelle were about the same. He was getting better, not just in numbers, but in a way he could feel. He was starting to be able to focus his attention and anticipate the ways in which Adelle would attack him. Progress in learning how to avoid or deflect the blows was less significant but still tangible. John was still getting his ass beat, but he knew enough to realize that Adelle was holding back less and less over time. It felt like Erica kept raising the bar for success every time his fingers brushed against it. It was frustrating, to be sure, but John had to admit that it made him work. He was also learning more about his mentor and fellow pupil, such as that Adelle was into those weird videos where people whisper, crinkle paper, and pretend to brush your hair, as well as that Erica was an avid Smash Bros. fan. Unfortunately he hadn't yet been able to coax her into a match, but not for lack of trying.

Fun as time with them was, it was also starting to become a source of anxiety. Erica A.) liked video games, B.) was hot, and C.) paid any amount of attention to him, the complete trifecta required for his idiot nerd brain to instantly fall in love. She was a lot more than that, too, but by all means his infatuation with anyone with two or more of those traits had been the cause of much social disaster for John in the past. To his credit, he wasn't immediately and completely smitten with her, but the more casual and relaxed their burgeoning friendship became, the more he worried he was going to start pining for her in the small hours of the morning. Frankly, he was surprised that it wasn't happening already. Maybe her position as his mentor placed her in an area of his brain not reserved for intimacy, or maybe she was so wildly out of his league that even he understood it on an instinctual level. Whatever the case, John wondered how long it would hold, for fear he would do something stupid that would ruin his relationship with all three ladies of the Golden Rose at once.

Altogether, the stresses weighing upon him since becoming a card-carrying member of the Abyss had brought his Limit bar perilously close to full. In a game that would be an undeniably good thing, but John was quickly learning that the actual experience of filling it was anything but fun.

Who would have imagined that building up a bunch of so-called 'negative emotions' and stress was so goddamn... stressful? You'd think they'd at least put a warning label on it. Sheesh!

Combat training would be a great stress relief, if only he could win more than once every dozen bouts or so. He was, at the moment, picking himself up off the packed dirt of the training yard. Another loss.

"Hey, Erica," he said during a break, "any chance we'll work on magical stuff anytime soon? I appreciate all the effort you're putting into me and all, but I'm a mage with next to no spells. I feel like I should at least be able to throw a fireball or something by now."

"Oh?" Erica cocked her head. "Why's that?"

"I dunno. I just assumed that was pretty much the first thing any mage worth their salt learns once they know how to use mana. Shouldn't I know how to do that?"

"I can't throw fireballs around," Erica said, somehow smug despite admitting her own incapability. "Does that mean I'm not worth my salt?"

"No, I- that's not what-"

"Hey, Dell," Erica shot a wide smirk at her other apprentice, "can you throw fireballs?"

"No, Dame Carpenter, I cannot." Adelle nodded and returned a light smile of her own.

"And would you say you qualify as a mage?"

"I would, Dame Carpenter."

"Great!" Erica beamed. "Now kick your classmate's ass for being presumptuous."

"As you say, Dame Carpenter." Adelle's words sounded contrite and servile, but her demeanor was anything but demure. She advanced on John before he could even raise his guard, smiling darkly.

"Oh, come on!" he protested, backpedalling. "It was just a question!"

Why does every fucking lesson have to come with a beating? Can't someone just explain something without kicking my ass or scaring the shit out of me for goddamn once?

"Then consider this your answer!" Erica laughed as the tip of Adelle's blade thrust into John's chest and knocked the wind out of him. She stopped Adelle as she closed in to confirm the 'kill.' "Easy girl, I think he got the point."

"Hehe," Adelle snickered, immediately dropping her guard to cover her mouth. "'Got the point,' I get it!"

"What?"

"She, uh," John coughed while regaining his footing. "She stabbed me. Like, you know, with the point of her sword?" Erica slapped her forehead.

"Odin's beard," her eyes rolled as she dragged her hand down her face, "pun not intended. Now get over here so I can learn you a thing."

"Yes, Dame Carpenter," John replied dutifully as he jogged over, an exaggerated mimicry of Adelle. She shot him a look but said nothing as she followed suit.

"First, magic comes in many forms," Erica said, "but you already know that. The important thing to know is that not all magic is flashy, and it's not all fireballs and lightning bolts. It's not even mostly fireballs and lightning bolts. Worry less about what you think you're supposed to be and more about what you are. Trust me, you'll be way less anxious that way."

"Easy for you to say," John grumbled. "You're a Nordic amazon with a huge-ass axe, I'm a lanky nerd with low self-esteem and a couple of knives."

"Cut that out." Erica frowned, deeper than John expected. "You think I don't have my own weaknesses? You only get to see 'Erica, Slayer of Monsters,' not 'Erica, Slayer of Potato Chips,' and the reason for that is because I don't want you to. We've all got our baggage, dude."

"Yeah," John assented, still mumbling. He held himself back from adding that some had more than others.

"More to the point, I'm not a magic tutor, I'm your combat instructor. Sure, I could teach you the runes of power I invoke, but I can't tell you what makes them work. I just put them together, say the words, and boom - magic. Honestly, it's more akin to prayer than wizardry, but, again, I don't know why or if the distinction matters. What does matter is that I've focused on mastering the magic I have rather than trying to get what I don't. It's kept me alive so far, which brings me to a point I've been meaning to make." Erica observed her students with a probing stare. "Besides magic, what do all mages have in common?"

"Uh," John shrugged. "A flair for the dramatic?" Erica snorted in laughter.

"I see what you're getting at," she said, "but no. Dell?"

"I would say…" Adelle trailed off, thinking. "We're all people first and mages second. I am a mage, but I don't need magic to stab you."

"Bingo!" Erica exclaimed. "Ten points for the pretty lady!" John watched Adelle's face turn scarlet in an instant as Erica clapped her on the shoulder. "And that's why you're here with me. A lot of rookie mages lean on their magic as a crutch. They forget what they can do without it and panic when it can't help them. Sooner or later, you're going to run out of mana at a critical moment. Believe me, it happens to everyone, even me, even Moira. One of the keys to surviving the Abyss is understanding that no mana doesn't mean no options, so long as you have the skills to keep going without it."

John considered his mentor's words with a few too many grains of salt, but even so he had to admit that she had a point. It was, however, yet another delightful lesson on how weak he was. Apparently it was everyone's favorite topic. Further thought was interrupted, however, by the appearance of a certain red-headed Paladin.

"I heard my name." Moira smiled, dryly but politely, as she approached. "Used in a positive context, I hope?"

"My Warden!" Adelle snapped to attention. Her body and expression were equally rigid, overly so.

"At ease, Squire Kingston. I'm not here to test your decorum." Moira raised a hand to assuage Adelle's concerns of impropriety. "So, Erica, what was the lesson that brought me up?"

"The virtues of knowing how to handle yourself without mana," Erica replied. "I know for a fact that you wouldn't have to spend an ounce of it to fight off a dozen or so thugs with switchblades. I think my pupils need to learn to appreciate this a little more." She eyed John. "One of them, at least."

"Forgive me for wanting to know how to use magic to do something productive. Man, if I knew it was so useless ahead of time, I would have picked Warrior," John griped. "At least then I'd get ripped…"

"What was that?" Adelle asked, the only one close enough to hear the last part.

"Nothing, don't worry about it." John grumbled again as warmth spread in his cheeks.

"Magic isn't useless," Moira frowned - big surprise. "But consider this," she held up one hand with her thumb up and index finger pointed squarely at John's chest. "I have a gun, and I intend to use it. What do you do?"

"And don't say 'I throw a fireball,'" Erica chimed in. "Any gunman with half a brain would shoot the moment you moved your arm."

"Fine." John grimaced as he ran a mental checklist of the skills at his disposal. He definitely wasn't going to masturbate or fuck his way out of the situation, and both Sneak Attack and Stealth were useless with Moira's eyes locked on him, and Sleight of Hand probably wouldn't work for the same reason, if he was even close enough. He'd get shot before he could reach out and try something weird with Alter Body, and Lifesense was as useless as ever. His only option would be to try and open a Barrier. No one but him could see the menus, all he had to do was operate them as sneakily as possible and-

"Bang." Moira's voice snapped like the report of the gun she was pretending to hold. Her face was an impassive mask, almost intimidatingly so. "I saw that, you were doing something suspicious with your fingers. Now you've been shot. Without immediate help, you'll die, and even then only if I choose not to finish you off with a second shot."

"Then what the hell was I supposed to do!?" John barked back like a frightened dog, fighting back the pressure of tears that threatened to well up in his eyes. Why was he constantly being set up for failure by everyone around him? Moira, Nazrinn, Erica, Wentworth, even the fucking Goddess seemed to enjoy messing with him. Wasn't getting awesome magic powers supposed to change things? Sure, they'd helped him deal with Frank, but at the cost of introducing a new, even more unassailable cast of bullies. "What do you want from me? To turn my tail and run like a little bitch!?"

"Yes, actually." Moira's expression cracked at the sudden outburst as she stepped forward. "Sometimes retreat is the only sensible option. Without my shield I would have done the s-"

"And what if I'm sick and fucking tired of running away, huh!?" John shouted with a stomp of one foot. Dust billowed up from the impact. He was rapidly losing the battle to keep his composure. "All I do is run away! It's all I've ever done!"

"Whoa, dude," Erica said. Her voice was soft and her brow creased with concern. The tension **** Adelle into an uncomfortably stiff posture as she stared straight ahead, away from John, and Moira's expression grew grim as she continued to close the distance. Only Erica made any kind of attempt to ease John's anger. "Calm down, it's just an example."

"Great fucking example!" John snapped back. Erica's sympathy didn't matter, not now, at least. She was part of the problem. Any show of kindness was most likely an attempt at lulling him back into complacency so they could fuck with him some more later. Typical, really. Why had he ever expected otherwise? No one was ever nice to him without wanting something out of it, least of all girls. "I'd add it to the list of shit you've taught me, but there's no room next to all the other lessons about what a weak pile of trash I am! Thank you both, so much, for all the help. I hope it was fun for you!"

Moira stopped with a domineering sense of purpose just a few feet from John. Her expression was hard as stone and cold as ice, but her eyes drew his attention with their blazing intensity. It stunned him out of his rant long enough for her to take one final step, draw her arm back, and slap him hard across the face.

<-5 hp>

-
<Limit Reached>
-

"Quit whining and feeling sorry for yourself, Newman, unless you truly want me to think you're pathetic." Moira's voice was powerful and sharp, somewhere between a statement and a shout. John glared back at her with his cheeks burning for more reasons than the stinging pain her palm left behind. "Do you really think we're investing all of this effort just to put you down? Do you suppose that I can afford to waste the time of my premiere monster hunter for the sole purpose of laughing at your failures? Who the hell do you think I am? What kind of organization do you think I lead that I have the resources to spare to browbeat every half-wit mage that passes through these gates?"

"Moira, maybe-"

"No, Erica." Moira's attention snapped to the blonde for just a moment. Just a half second of the Paladin's reproachful stare was enough to silence even her. She wanted to say more, the knit in her brow and thinned lips made that obvious, but she stood down. "I'm not going to go easy on him just because he's a classmate. He can act like a child or earn respect like every other recruit. It's his choice."

"I don't want your damn respect," John spat. He could no longer prevent tears from welling in his eyes, but he was at least able to salvage enough scraps of pride to keep them from falling. "I want what I was promised."

"And you're getting it," Moira said. "If you're not tough enough to endure it, that's your problem. If you think you've been getting any sort of special treatment, then let me make this very clear: you are not. The Abyss is merciless and unrelenting, it is terror and ****. Everyone who wishes to stand and lift their sword against it must learn this, first and foremost, always. It's harsh, it hurts, and it has broken more than a few, but it's what must be done. If I really wanted to make you cry, if I wanted you to suffer the consequences of your consistently petulant attitude, I would skip all of this. I would send you out on your own, watch you be crushed by your own sense of self-importance, and bury what shreds of your body we could recover in a fool's grave."

Every sentence thrown at John was like a punch to the gut. He balled his fists into a white-knuckled grip as he endured Moira's berating and swallowed back the sobs. What place did she think she had to lecture him on self-importance, the self-righteous, holier-than-thou, stick-up-her-ass bitch? Why would he believe a word she said when she couldn't even realize what a hypocrite she was being? She could go fuck herself with everyone else who kept trying to put him in his place, as if they were the arbiters of his fate.

But then again, what if she was telling the truth? What if the way he'd been treated so far was completely normal for newbies in the Abyss? What did that and his pathetic tantrum say about him? Was he just some loser with a victim complex refusing to be honest with himself? John thought about all of the people he saw the other day when they'd eaten dinner together. There were Knights and Squires and whoever else, all smiling and getting along despite how terrible everyone kept saying the Abyss was. They weren't wallowing in self pity. Christopher hadn't been a dour old man pitying the fresh meat, he'd been friendly and helpful. John grit his teeth so hard it felt as if they might crack. How could all of those people have endured their self worth getting beaten down so hard and come out smiling?

He resolved to find out.

"I'm not some half-wit mage," he mumbled. It was quiet, and he couldn't hold eye contact while he said it, but he said it.

"Speak up," Moira said.

"I'm not an idiot," he rephrased, stronger. Tears fell, but none welled up to replace them, and he fought back the urge to run away. "I know who I am. If I'm at the bottom, fine, everyone keeps trying to tell me that's where I belong anyway. I'm gonna claw my way up tooth and nail if I have to. I'm tired of giving up before I start."

"That's better." Moira leaned back, easing up her glare until it almost seemed like she was relieved. As John looked at her, he noticed that the menus for Create Instance were still up, floating at chest height. He also noticed a faintly pulsing pink orb in the corner of his HUD, an indicator he somehow understood meant that his Limit Break was ready and waiting to be used. He reached for it in his mind with less hesitation than he should have had, emboldened by his indignation and desire to leave the situation as quickly as possible.

<Create Instance Limit Broken - Open the Way Activated>

"Wait, what?" he gasped. All he wanted to do was see if Limit Break could open up full access to his menus and give him a chance to escape to somewhere he felt like he had a modicum of control over. Maybe a neutral place to calm down, or a Barrier full of trash mobs to take out his aggression on. Hell, with enough time dilation he might have been able to pull some hyperbolic time chamber bullshit and get a year's worth of training done in a single day. Sadly, that was not the case. Instead, tapping into the Limit Break set in motion a whorl of experiences John was completely unprepared for. His brain struggled to process the myriad sensations crashing into him.

The first was an overwhelming catharsis. He felt the urge to cry for entirely new reasons. It was as if he was experiencing the emotional release of having been breaking vases and screaming at the moon for an hour, but all at once. It was potent enough to be disorienting - or maybe that was because it coincided with the feeling that all of his senses had fractured and began to crumble to dust. It wasn't like previous barriers, how the world shattered like glass and he floated amongst the shards while they reassembled themselves - at least he was able to comprehend that. Everything distorted. The butterflies in his stomach were pulled inside out and his consciousness stretched into infinity, far reaching but uselessly narrow. The only things he maintained a grip on were a sense of self and the oddly reassuring presence of Moira nearby. It lasted somewhere between two seconds and ten years.

John fell on his ass the moment the universe reestablished itself. The ground was hard, the air damp and cold. His lungs remembered how to breathe while he tried to blink away what he was seeing. He wasn't in the training yard anymore, he was in an expansive cavern, dimly lit by a variety of faintly glowing crystal formations jutting from the stone here and there. Moira stood with her mouth agape, silently assessing her environment in spite of her disbelief. Adelle and Erica were nowhere to be seen.

"By the Lady, how did you…"

"What happened?" John stammered. A cold sweat broke out all over his body. "What did I do?"

Moira bent to grab John by the upper arm and hoisted him back onto his feet. She was rough, but not aggressive, more tactless than anything. She clasped his shoulders and spun him to face the widest view before them. Tunnels carved through the stone, natural and otherwise, miniscule to massive, both serpentine and linear, all dotted with illuminated rock formations and broken up by forests of stalactites and stalagmites. In a way, it was beautiful, even the imposing silence and looming, intangible pressure.

"John Newman," she said. "Welcome to the Abyss."