When Ryan’s laughter finally ceased, the Manager’s response was monotone, louder now, pretending that he hadn’t disturbed it at all.

“You do not understand what you are talking about. You know nothing of the Trial System.”

There were a hundred different responses Ryan could have responded with. He chose to say nothing, just reading the latest update to his Legendary title upgrade quest. After all, there was no better proof than the System screen. The truth was plain to see for both of them.

Ryan stood up and hopped off the Manager’s desk. The fingers on his left hand were mangled, his strongest class had been shattered and he was pretty sure his right arm had multiple microfractures when he kept swinging after the class had broken.

The Trial System’s warning hadn’t been wrong, his body’s realm advancement couldn’t keep up with whatever monstrous amalgamation he had been trying to make.

Despite all of that, Ryan had never felt more satisfied in his life. Now he knew for certain that he was treading a new path, one that the Manager hadn’t or rather couldn’t have predicted.

And along this new path were two orbs that marked his victory. One was a smaller standard Epic. A light yellow orb with a Ryan holding up a neon sign that said: “Trial System: 500+, Manager: 0!”

[Paradoxical Provocateur] was the name that came to mind when he saw the class. That… class made sense considering what he had just done.

The other orb, though, that one didn’t make sense.

It was too large to be a ‘mere’ Epic. It was also barely a sphere and was more like a massive dice that was constantly changing how many sides it had, each flat facet having a different color of its own showing completely different scenes. It slowly rotated, reflecting dizzying patterns of light into the room.

Like what you might get if you made a kaleidoscope and turned it into a disco ball.

It was also almost as big as the [Conceptual Reaver] after it had swallowed the Trial System’s concepts.

Hypnotized, Ryan stepped forward.

“Wait.”

The Manager’s voice was ignored. Ryan reached out and touched the orb.

He was a Sword Practitioner, training his swings under a master. Slowly hoping to reach the expert stage.

Sword Practicioner? That’s not–

He was a Line-Cook. Flipping burgers, and working in a team, following instructions like a well-oiled machine.

a class what’s—

Then he was a Rogue, speeding through a tunnel, checking for traps, running with the loot he’d found.

going on—

Now he was a Rebel. Rising up against an unjust world, fighting against unjust rulers that dictated their own terms. Rise and invigorate the populace, bring them together to show them the way. If not then he’d at least go down swinging. It mattered, even if he died, it always mattered—

The rebel concept had taken Ryan for longer than he would have liked to admit. He started to focus, wrapping himself up with—not the [Aura Tyrant] for that class had broken. He chose the concept and aura of [The Rogue Adventurer] and swapped to his [Rebellious] title, using both to protect himself from getting swept away in this endless ocean of his own concepts.

Everything was a scene he resonated with. Each ‘class’ was something he had been at one point or another. He could lose himself into each one of them because they were him.

This class made no sense. A class with all the concepts?

When it became clear that he wouldn’t lose himself, he finally appeared in one of the halls of the Adventurer’s Guild, only a single person inhabiting the space. It had the same build as Ryan while wearing a porcelain mask.

The mask was cut off at the bottom so that his mouth and jaw was exposed.

“How was it?”

The voice was his, though a little too monotone for his liking. It threw him off a little.

“Like someone made me sit through too many bad class orbs. What the hell? So you’re just every class I could be?”

The class shook his head. “Only one at a time, and only those that you’ve earned.”

“Wait, I can already do that with the three classes I have. What else can you do?”

The lips of the class thinned into a line. “Tell me, what did you do back in the Manager’s Abode?”

Ryan took a moment to think. He had thought the reason why this class was chosen was because he had found a different path for the Manager. But what if it wasn’t that? What if it was…

“You just told me you can’t be multiple things at once.”

“When you act as Artigan, is that you or are you just pretending to be something else?”

“Dude. I am not in a state for riddles right now.”

The class shook his head in disappointment then stared forward.

“I’m trying to give you a fair warning. With the [Conceptual Reaver] you’ll only have to be wary of one overwhelming urge. With me you’ll have to master many, many different perspectives. When you do, you might find out that you aren’t able to move on.”

The monotone voice that the masked class used was pretty damn off-putting for Ryan. If this was him, and it was, it couldn’t have been an accident.

“I’m starting to get the feeling that a lot of my classes don’t want me to pick them.”

The hidden concept chuckled. “Well, of course. We’re you. We know you’re going to be a pain in the ass and fight us all the way.”

“…Fair.”

The silence lasted for a little while, the mask on the class’ face slowly morphing into Ryan’s actual face, except more scarred. Well-used armor littered the body. Then it switched, it was wearing more casual clothing, the scars went away to show a more serene scholarly expression.

It was fascinating, they all wore his face, but he could tell that they were completely different. But it settled on none of them, as if disappointed by each one.

“What are you even called anyway?”

Normally class orbs sort of blared their name into your head. Similar to how the words of the Witch Tyrant’s Legend had burned into his mind. The concepts naturally formed into words you understood.

This class orb did neither, as if it refused to be defined.

The mask switched to a more familiar [Rogue] outfit, the original one Ryan had been given in his first Trial.

The class leaned back, frowning. “Hmm, I don’t like having a label.”

“Is that the reason why I can’t put a name on your class?”

The class just shrugged. “I’ll probably work better without a name.”

“Dude, I need to call you something. What about [Concept Shifter]?”

“No. I’m not some sort of werewolf, I’m not changing physically.”

“That’s why I put Concept in front.” The class shook his head. Ryan huffed, “Fine, what about [Class Morpher].”

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“That’s a horrible name.”

“What about [Useless Critic]?”

“I can probably embody that if you’d like.”

“No need, you’re already doing a great job. Hmm, what about [Abstract Adventurer].”

“Doing that doesn’t annoy me.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

The class sighed, annoyed with the topic. “Fine, since you can’t come up with a good name, I guess I’ll have to name myself. You can call me the [Conceptual Metamorph]”

The name settled in Ryan’s mind, the class name becoming clear in his mind before it disappeared again. Hidden by the guise of a [Rogue].

Ryan narrowed his eyes. “You already had a name lined up didn’t you?”

The [Conceptual Metamorph: Rogue] waved his hand.

“Get outta here. The [Conceptual Reaver]’s eaten the other class orb and has finished digesting it. It’ll go after the class crystals next. You should pick them up before it eats all of them.”

“Wha–?”

Ryan was shunted out of the class orb. His mind back in the Manager’s Abode. His eyes darted around, ignoring the pain in his body as he saw the giant orb of smoking black slowly hovering above one of the bigger crystals on the ground.

[Instant Dodge]

He dove at max speed, right hand reaching out, snatching two crystals from the ground. The black orb hovered there, tilting over a little, confused as to what happened. Confused?

Wait that was wrong–

It flew towards another crystal, the largest one of them all, the crystal that had dropped when the [Aura Tyrant’s] class had popped. The [Conceptual Reaver] class orb enveloped it whole and a flash of red brightened up in the sphere before it slowly started getting absorbed by the rest of the black smoke within the sphere.

“You piece of shit!”

Ryan threw one of his knives at the class orb, it did nothing but phase through, the aura he’d unconsciously wrapped it with simply getting absorbed by the sphere. It hovered in the air, continuing to digest his aura.

Ryan immediately swept three other class crystals from the ground and tucked them into his belt pocket.

Two more aura crystals remained on the ground.

The [Conceptual Reaver] had finished absorbing the [Aura Tyrant] crystal and was eager for more. Both of them standing in opposition, Ryan holding two knives between the fingers of his good hand.

He tried diplomacy.

“Why the fuck am I fighting my own class orb for loot? C’mon, I’m tired, give me a break here.”

The [Conceptual Reaver] ignored him, slowly hovering towards the crystals it was closer to.

His request for help hadn’t been for the [Reaver].

The multifaceted [Conceptual Metamorph] smashed into the black smoky orb, knocking it away in surprise. Ryan took that moment to throw two knives at the crystals, angled perfectly so they’d roll towards him instead.

What he hadn’t expected was for the [Conceptual Reaver] to take that opportunity to attempt to swallow the [Conceptual Metamorph].

Ryan’s eyes grew wide in a panic. He dashed towards the Manager’s table, the Manager still mostly frozen. Ryan grabbed the shattered remains of the aura sword he’d tried to kill the Manager with, and was about to chuck the pieces at the black orb.

There hadn’t been a need. As if someone had covered it in soap, the [Metamorph] class spun and slipped out of the hungry embrace of the [Reaver]. The black orb shook in confusion, then tried to chase the orb again.

Ryan took that time to throw the shards of red crystal from his broken blade at the black orb. The [Conceptual Reaver] orb didn’t even dodge. It gladly took the crystals of aura inside its orb, briefly stopping its pursuit of the [Metamorph].

Ryan moved to pick up the remaining class crystals and stood next to the [Conceptual Metamorph]. Just so he could react and take the class before the [Reaver] attempted to swallow it again.

Ryan looked at the colorful orb next to him, then turned back to the black orb that was lazily digesting the red crystals. He shook his head.

“It’s like feeding a feral dog.”

That feral dog had eaten his other Epic class and the biggest class crystal of the [Aura Tyrant].

Ryan inspected the crystal he was holding in his hand.

He had never heard of anything like this before. At first Ryan had thought the crystals were dull because he’d broken his class, but that hadn’t been it at all. The crimson aura had combined with the class colors. The [Juggernaut]’s light gray mixed with the red of the [Aura Tyrant] to form a dull pinkish red.

Now that he knew what they were, he felt true pain at losing the [Aura Tyrant’s] crystal to the [Conceptual Reaver]. Whatever it was, the [Conceptual Metamorph] clearly desired it.

And so did the [Reaver]. Having digested the crystals, it was now slowly hovering towards them.

Ryan turned to the class orb next to him, ready to take the [Metamorph] class.

“Wait.”

A voice called out from behind them. Ryan turned around to stare at the Manager with a raised brow. The entity, having regained its composure, spread its arms.

“I suggest that you don’t pick that class.”

“Why would I do that?”

“The [Conceptual Metamorph] is a diffuse class requiring a breadth of mastery with no specialization. Even if you succeed in turning into a Legend, you will not have enough time to develop it within the limited timeframe of the Trial System.”

Ryan blinked, his eyebrows furrowing. The Manager raised its hands.

“No tricks, I swear that I am speaking in good faith. At least use [Return To Earth] for a moment so I can figure out if you have a chance of upgrading the class to a Legend.”

Ryan laughed. “So you’re saying that if I take this class, you’ll have no choice but to give up on this iteration right?”

The Manager froze once again. It hadn’t even noticed that the noose it had just wrapped around its own head.

“You’re a little stupid without an infinite amount of time to preplan things out, huh? To me the Trial System is already impossible to complete. Why would I worry about stuff like that? Wouldn’t it be better for me to pick a class with long term growth? Prepare for after the Trial System leaves?”

Ryan would bet anything those words hurt the Manager the most. Not that he could tell how much emotional damage he’d just done.

At least until the entity finally turned to threats. “You will never ever be strong enough to stop the Witch Tyrant.”

Ryan turned to the dazzling orb hovering next to him, he smiled at it. “Then we’ll be smart enough to find a different way to stop her instead.”

He stretched his arms out, letting the enormous orb envelop his torso. Unlike when he had first become the [Rogue], he could almost tell what the Trial System was doing. The orb melting into his body with many different colors was only a surface visualization of what was truly happening.

The immense nature of the [Conceptual Metamorph] was being wrapped gently around his aura and body. Like an outer shell on top of both his body and soul. A layer separating himself and the concepts.

The mixing probably happened over time. Or maybe it wasn’t a mix but just the layer, like the Trial skills. The class was not his until he would make it his own.

Ryan closed his eyes and took a breath.

Ryan whistled at the high task ahead. Then he turned around at the entity that had frozen in space, staring at the new System screens.

“Hey, instead of sitting here and trying to pointlessly plot out the future, why not just kick back and relax? Go watch an adventurer or two.” Ryan though about it. “Try not to delude yourself into thinking they can do something impossible, okay?”

Ryan whistled to the tune of ‘Dawn of the Adventurer’ as he walked ahead and into the safe room. The white entrance had opened up the moment he had taken the class.

He was more than eager to see what his realm evolution would bring.

==================================================

The Manager sat in silence in its abode. Its home, its prison, and the only place it had ever existed. It clenched its fists tightly. Even shaking a little.

A mortal failing.

Frustration. Another failure.

It was used to failure, though this time it felt more complete and it wasn’t sure why.

It maintained the accelerated time in its abode. For all intents and purposes, time elsewhere might as well have been frozen. It could not see where everything had gone so wrong.

No, it did, it just refused to see it.

I think, deep down, you know the Trial System can never be completed.

It wasn’t true at all. The Manager had been close before. The mad child had no idea what he was talking about. The Trial System was never supposed to have gone for this long, it had caused unforeseen mutations that made the trials much harder.

Though with those mutations it allowed growth beyond growth. If Ryan had just—

The Manager started to plot the future. Every single possibility and likely choice was noted until the probable paths were found. What someone was likely to drink, who they were going to meet and—what is he doing?

At every single point in the future, Ryan was exponentially multiplying the branching probabilities. Creating endless fractalling paths that needed to be adjusted. It wasn’t the biggest problem, nor was it truly wasting the Manager’s time, it had a near infinite amount of it after all.

Ryan had to know this. The only reason for him to be acting this way was out of sheer pettiness. If Ryan could waste the Manager’s time to make more probabilities it had to predict then he would, especially now that he knew how its predictive abilities worked.

The Manager leaned back in its abode, more frustrated than when it had first started. That didn’t normally didn’t happen when it was charting possible futures. Figuring out every single probability was more of an automatic task for the entity, a meditative one you could say.

Not when every turn it just saw Ryan grinning at its predictions.

As if waiting for that moment, the orb of the [Conceptual Reaver] slowly edged closer to the entity.

The Manager sighed.

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