Valerie Connors was used to waking up early.Being Chief of Staff for someone like Senator Langston—whose calendar never seemed to sleep—meant she rarely had much of a social life, or much rest.
But since taking the two miracle serums Mallory McInnis had provided, everything had changed.Two hours of sleep a night now left her feeling sharper, stronger, more focused than eight hours ever had before. Not that she ever got eight hours.It was incredible.
After just that—two hours—she woke naturally, dressed quickly in the simple linen clothes she'd been provided, and headed downstairs.
Mira, their server from st night, greeted her with a bright smile and immediately brought over a steaming cup of coffee.
"Good morning, Valerie. How did you sleep?"
"Surprisingly well," Valerie said, accepting the mug gratefully."And despite it being just two hours... I feel incredible."
Mira's smile deepened. "I'm gd to hear it. We’ve got sausage and eggs for breakfast this morning. Does that sound alright?"
Valerie nodded. "Normally I don’t even have time for breakfast... but today?Today, I think I’ll enjoy it. Thank you."
She leaned back in her chair, savoring the warmth of the coffee, letting the comforting murmur of the few people already awake at the inn wash over her.What would this strange new day hold?
As if in answer, a system message unfurled across her vision:
---
System MessageGood morning.Welcome to the first full day of your Tutorial.
Your time here is tailored to help you understand your new body, discover your skills, and prepare you for the world beyond.
You will be tested in many ways—some obvious, some not.If you strive to improve and remain true to yourself, your advancement will be smooth and rewarding.If you attempt to coast, deceive, or take shortcuts, your challenges will increase until you begin to backslide.
The path forward for humanity is one of trial, adaptation, and strength through adversity.You will learn more of this in time.
Today, your goal is simple:Obtain a weapon that reflects the css you selected yesterday.
Focus your mind and think: “Map.”A location will appear, pulsing in your vision.This is where your journey truly begins.
---
Valerie lowered her coffee cup, heart pounding with a quiet thrill.
Around the room, a few others were stirring.She spotted Richard Levens and his wife Julia coming down the stairs and waved them over.
They recognized her immediately and joined her table.
Valerie smiled warmly at Julia."Good morning! How did you sleep?"
Julia stretched luxuriously, tilting her head side to side as she loosened her shoulders."You know what? I haven’t felt this amazing in years," she said, ughing.
Richard nodded his agreement, and for a few minutes they chatted easily over coffee—just three people, temporarily unburdened by titles or the weight of the world.
As Valerie finished her breakfast, another set of System messages clearly popped up for Richard and Julia—their wide-eyed expressions giving it away.
She grinned."I see you got your marching orders for the day, too.I wonder what this is going to be like..."
Richard tilted his head thoughtfully."You know, I stayed up a little st night thinking about all this.It's like a video game—with all the stats and menus—but... what Voss accomplished here?"
He shook his head in awe."I think I was in shock at first. But now?I've decided I'm going to take this opportunity and run with it.If this is a chance to become a better version of myself...why would I fight it?"
Julia smiled fondly, reaching across the table to squeeze his hand."There’s the man I fell in love with," she teased."You always get to the right conclusion eventually.Even if I have to nudge you sometimes."
They all ughed—and with that, the three decided to set out together.
Richard and Valerie showed Julia how to open her Map interface—a glowing waypoint pulsed faintly to the north—and they departed the inn into the cool morning air.
The cobbled streets of Grimwatch still held the golden hush of early light.Other small groups were trickling out of the inn behind them, heading for their own adventures.
After a while, Richard’s path diverged from theirs, heading up a wooded trail to the west.
He hesitated, gncing back toward his wife."Take care of her, would you?" he asked Valerie quietly.
Valerie nodded without hesitation."I’ll stay with her as long as I can."
Julia ughed lightly."He’s always worrying.But I decided a long time ago—it's better than the opposite."
As they continued walking arm-in-arm, Valerie smiled."You know," she said, "what you two have... it’s beautiful.When you're alone like I am, you learn to spot the real ones easily.And you two?You give me hope I’ll find something like that someday."
Julia squeezed her arm affectionately.
"You will," she said simply."You’re already stronger than you know."
They walked together until the Map pulse indicated Julia's own path branching eastward.
They hugged briefly, and Valerie watched her new friend disappear into the trees before she turned and followed her own waypoint, heading deeper into the unknown.
Valerie stepped off the main road onto a narrow stone path leading through a quiet gde of trees.For a time—maybe twenty minutes, maybe more—she walked, marveling at the way the sun nced through the canopy overhead, lighting the path with scattered rays of gold.
Then the path turned sharply to the right.
Ahead stood a house.
Run-down. Faded. A squat thing painted an ugly shade of reddish-brown.The porch sagged under the weight of time, two battered chairs fnking the door—both so brittle they looked ready to colpse under a breath of wind.One window to the left of the entrance was boarded over with a splintering sheet of plywood, nailed haphazardly into the frame.
Valerie stopped cold.
She knew this pce.
The house she had grown up in.In the dangerous streets of Pontiac, Michigan, tucked between crumbling sidewalks and chain-link fences leaning under the weight of decades.
Her parents had fought endlessly within those walls—shouting matches fueled by exhaustion and resentment—and little Valerie had hidden herself in books, clutching them like shields against the world.Some nights, when the arguments died down and the city’s violence took over, gunfire would snap through the night air—drive-bys and random shots so common they barely woke anyone anymore.
Valerie would crawl beneath her bed, fshlight and worn paperback in hand, reading until her eyes could no longer stay open, falling asleep as sirens wailed in the distance.
She hadn’t thought about that night in years.
The night everything changed.
She had been in her room, studying for an exam, when she heard her father’s old sedan pulling into the driveway. She’d gnced out her window—just a quick look—and saw him walking toward the front door, his silhouette backlit by the fading light of the sun.Then the roar of a souped-up SUV shattered the quiet.
Teenagers, drunk or high or simply reckless, hung from the windows firing pistols into the air like fireworks.The vehicle smmed into a pothole—the kind the city never bothered to fix—and a single shot, a single tremor of fate, sent a stray bullet hurtling sideways.
It struck her father in the temple.
He dropped without a sound.
Gone.
Just like that.
Afterward, home became a graveyard.
Her mother colpsed into alcoholism, losing job after job until eventually she stopped trying at all.By the time Valerie graduated high school—miraculously holding onto her perfect 4.0 GPA—there was nothing left for her at home but broken gss and broken dreams.
She applied for every schorship she could find.
One day, a letter arrived from the Detroit Alumnae Chapter of Delta Sigma Theta.
Not just an acceptance—but a full ride.
A full schorship to the University of Michigan.
They said her academic achievements were extraordinary.But it was her story—her will to survive—that sealed the deal.
Valerie closed her eyes, feeling the phantom weight of that letter in her hands again—the key to a future she had cwed out of a world that never meant for her to have one.
When she opened her eyes again, she was no longer alone.
A figure stood on the porch of the old house, half-shrouded in shadow.
Waiting.
Watching.
Valerie squared her shoulders, heart hammering in her chest—not from fear, but from something deeper.Recognition.
She stepped forward.
“Mama? What are you doing here?”
Her Mom smiled at her—a vision Valerie hadn’t seen in far too long.
She had kept sending money home from every paycheck, but real contact had been rare.At least, she thought, her mother had mostly quit drinking. Had finally held a stable job for a few years now.
“Valerie,” her mother said warmly, voice cracking just slightly. “You look so beautiful. Come here and hug me.”
Without thinking, Valerie did.
As surreal as this entire moment was, she let herself fall into it, drinking in the scent of old fabric, the warm strength of arms she had feared she'd lost forever.When they parted, a single tear slipped down her mother's left cheek—and then she shimmered, dissolved into mist.
Only the front door remained.
Valerie swallowed, wiped her eyes, and pushed the door open.
Inside, sitting casually at the battered dining table as if he'd never left, was her father.
Valerie froze.
She stared—and stared—until finally he chuckled and said:"Come now, little one. It's rude to gawk. Come sit. Let’s talk."
He gestured to the chair next to him.
Still reeling, Valerie crossed the room and dropped into the seat.When she reached out, he opened his arms, and she clung to him, tears spilling freely now.
"You’ve made us proud," he said, voice thick with emotion."We did our best to give you a start. I know it was never easy.But look at you. Look what you’ve built. Thirty-two years old and Chief of Staff to a Senator... I couldn't be prouder."
Valerie tried to speak—but all she could do was cry.
So he went on, quietly, filling the space with love, ughter and conversation.
And after a while talking like that, brushing a tear from her cheek, he said:"It's time for you to go."
Valerie shook her head, but he just smiled.
"I want you unburdened by the past.You have always been greater than the circumstances around you.And that's still true, now more than ever. You're surrounded by power—but your strength comes from here."He tapped her heart with one rough fingertip."Never stray from your compass, little one."
He rose and opened the door back to the path.
"I’ll be watching," he said simply."And I can’t wait to see what you do next."
Valerie stepped back onto the stone path, blinking through tears.
She didn’t want to leave.
But somehow, she knew: he was already gone.
The forest swallowed her steps as she walked on.Until—
She saw it.
A door, embedded in the side of a low hill.Dark wood, iron hinges, utterly out of pce among the wild trees.
The pulsing dot in her vision winked out as she approached.
This was it.
Valerie id her hand on the door.
It swung open silently on its hinges, revealing a faintly lit room beyond.
The room looked more like a study in an old mansion than anything Valerie could easily pce.Shelves lined from floor to ceiling with leather-bound books.Velvet armchairs huddled beneath low-hanging mps, casting warm pools of light across intricate rugs.And in the center of the room—off to the left as she entered—an ornate wooden desk waited.
A woman sat behind it.
Her face was cloaked in shadow, her hands csped neatly atop the polished surface.
"Valerie," the woman said, her voice like velvet itself. "Welcome. Please—have a seat. Let’s talk."
Valerie hesitated only a moment before lowering herself into the oversized armchair before the desk.Despite the strangeness of it all, she felt no danger here. Only an undeniable weight.Like she had stepped into a pce that had been waiting for her.
The woman leaned forward into the mplight.
Her face was striking—captivating, but elusive.As if her beauty itself was a disguise.You could look straight at her... and still not be able to describe her afterward.
"I am the Curator," the woman said, offering a hand across the desk.
Valerie shook it—half expecting to feel some jolt of energy—but the Curator’s grip was warm. Firm.
She sat back again, studying her host with wary curiosity.She was no stranger to rooms of power.But this...This felt different.
The Curator smiled, a slow, delighted thing.
"Yes," she said softly. "You feel it.You’ve always known how to navigate power, Valerie Connors.Even when you didn’t have a name for it."
She spread her hands wide atop the desk."And now... it’s time to choose how you’ll wield it."
With a shimmer—like heat rising from sunbaked asphalt—three purple velvet cushions appeared across the polished wood.Each held a single object.
The first: a bck-gss dagger, edges faintly blurring the light around them, as if the bde drank the world in.The second: an ancient coin, battered and heavy, its faces too worn to make out but radiating quiet gravity.The third: a hood—gossamer-thin and dark as a midnight breeze, its folds shifting subtly even without wind.The Curator’s voice softened, almost a whisper now.
"Choose the dagger—and you will strike unseen.Choose the coin—and you will always find what you need when you need it most.Choose the hood—and you will hold unimagined influence over the hearts and minds of others."
Valerie stared at the objects, her mind whirring.
There was something... tugging at her.
A knowing.A hunger.
And before she could think better of it, the words slipped from her lips—half-challenge, half-revetion:
"What if I want to choose all three?"
Suddenly The Curator burst into ughter.Her voice was still soft somehow, but her ughter was unrestrained.“Ah, my dear. Few have been so bold. But I like it. You are going to be spectacur. Lean back in your chair and close your eyes. Focus on the word STATUS.”
Valerie did just that. As she did, she suddenly lost consciousness for a time.When she woke, there was a blinking system notification.
---
System Message
Critical path alignment detected for:Valerie Connors
Css upgrade in progress…
…
…
Base Css: [Skirmisher]New Css: [Velvet Reaper]The Velvet Reaper moves unseen through the corridors of power, shaping outcomes with a whisper, a smile or a bde. Her victories are silent, her enemies unaware until it is far too te.
Stats per level:+3 DEX+3 CHA+2 PER+1 END+1 VIT+5 Free Points
New skills unlocked:
Perfect Strike (Active):
A single precision attack with your shadow-forged dagger is all you require.Always pierces a vital organ, bypassing armor and natural defenses.Leaves no wound upon the body—only the silence of death.Lucky Coin (Passive):
An ancient coin you carry spins fate in your favor.At pivotal moments, it turns the bde away, finds the hidden door, grants the needed word.Once per encounter, fortune tilts subtly toward your will, without any sign it ever intervened.Activation is automatic when true stakes are detected.Velvet Veil (Active):
Your voice carries an unseen thread of influence, weaving itself into the minds of those who hear it.Once activated, you may whisper a suggestion that subtly alters a target’s decision or action.Requires the target’s INT or WIS to exceed your CHA by 50% to resist.While wearing the hood, your CHA is increased by 20%.---
“I… I don’t know what to say.”
“This was all you, dear. Now, these items are yours. You’ll also need armor. Here we are.”
The Curator waited for Valerie to lift the items from the velvet cushions. With another wave of her hand, a stack of clothes appeared in the center of the desk.
As Valerie reached out to touch the fabric, the Curator spoke again.
“Let me expin the tools of your new craft. These clothes are made of a flexible leather intricately yered with nanothreads. The material flexes like soft fabric, but the threads resist certain kinds of damage. You can wear this armor to a dungeon one day and to an embassy ball the next.”
She smiled, then added, “Oh, I would probably clean it first though. They tend to frown on viscera in those circles, don’t they?”
Valerie ughed—for the first time during this surreal encounter. The idea of striding into a formal event wearing an outfit drenched in blood and guts was so outrageous she couldn’t help herself. Once again, she was struck by the surreal nature of it all—and yet, for the first time in years, she realized she was truly loving every minute of it.
Hm. When was the st time I'd truly had fun? The thought hit harder than she expected, but instead of sadness, she felt... hope. A door opening she hadn’t even realized was closed.
The armor was a set of bck and gray matte leathers—a fitted tunic and breeches, along with boots that felt so comfortable Valerie swore she’d never take them off. Completing the ensemble was a long coat that fell past her knees, so light and cool she almost forgot it was there.
The Curator continued.
“The jacket is nice, right? It comes with a few inner pockets you'll find very useful. But first—button it all the way down.”
Valerie did as instructed and blinked in surprise. The coat transformed into a stylish evening dress.
“Perfect for cocktail parties. You may want to swap the boots for heels, though.”
Valerie grinned, smoothing the fabric with her hands.
“Now, back to the rest of your gear. The hood is one of my favorites. You understand that information is power, yes?”
Valerie nodded.
“Good. Now imagine if you could pnt a rumor today that topples a kingdom tomorrow. Or destroy a bad man's career with a whisper—one he cannot ignore, no matter how badly he wishes to. That is the power of your Velvet Veil skill. The Hood of Murmurs enables it. Truthfully, the skill works even without it, but when you draw the hood up, it sharpens your presence—amplifying your influence dramatically.”
The Curator paused, letting Valerie absorb the words.
“Next, your Lucky Coin.”
Valerie rolled the ancient coin in her hand, feeling a subtle hum of energy.
“This coin is older than reckoning. The System constantly calcutes probabilities—like a vast, eternal Dungeons and Dragons game. This coin?” She smiled. “It tweaks the major dice rolls in your favor. It won't stop you from tripping on a sidewalk crack, but if your killing blow is about to miss... fate will find a way to strike true.”
She showed Valerie a tiny reinforced pocket hidden inside the jacket’s lining. Valerie slipped the coin inside. It seemed to vanish, perfectly hidden.
“Now, to that magnificent dagger—Umbral Fang.”
The bde gleamed darkly, a translucent shard of condensed volcanic shadows.
“It can be wielded like any normal dagger,” the Curator said, “but when paired with your Perfect Strike skill, your attack will always strike true—puncturing a vital organ without leaving a visible mark on the skin or clothes.”
Valerie hesitated. “I read the skill description, but it's hard to understand how something like this really works.”
“Then don't waste energy trying to.” The Curator’s gaze sharpened. “Some mysteries you’ll solve. Others you are better off respecting. Learn the difference, Velvet Reaper.”
Valerie nodded solemnly, the lesson embedding itself deep inside.
Another wave of the Curator’s hand—and a set of six slender throwing knives appeared.
“Lastly, your Whisperknives. Perfectly banced, crafted from the same material as Umbral Fang. They fit into the six inner pockets down your coat's left pel—reinforced, of course, so they’ll never cut the fabric.”
The Curator lifted one of the slender knives, letting it catch the light.
“Throw them, and once your target falls, the bde will dematerialize and return to your pockets. Miss and strike a wall instead? They return immediately. No chasing after lost bdes like some common street brawler.”
Valerie opened her mouth—then shut it. She chuckled.
“Ah, ah—don't ask unimportant questions,” the Curator teased. “Just accept the gift.”
She stepped back, surveying Valerie from head to toe.
“Now, let me take a look at you. Draw up your hood for me.”
Valerie’s fingers trembled slightly as she found the hidden seam under the jacket’s colr. She pulled the hood up over her head, and the moment it settled, she felt it—deep in her bones—the extra surge of Charisma activating like a living thing.
The Curator stepped from behind her desk, resting her hands lightly on Valerie’s shoulders.
“Splendid! You look like the best possible combination of beauty, influence, and cold death I could imagine. Now, if I’m correct, with the hood up, your Charisma is just shy of the first threshold yet, correct?”
Valerie gnced at her stats. The upgrade to her Rare css had pushed her from Level 0 to Level 1, and the new css points had been automatically allocated.
At Level 1, she had 38 Charisma.Add in the 5% bonus from her title, and she reached 40.With the 20% boost from the Hood, she now sat at 48.
“I’m not sure what the threshold is,” Valerie said, “but it looks like I’m at forty-eight.”
“Right. Once a given stat passes fifty, you'll notice it simply... functions better,” the Curator said, smiling. “For Charisma, that means projecting a tangible aura—one that influences others even before you speak. Your Velvet Veil skill will become even more potent once you reach that point.”
She stepped back, giving Valerie one final, satisfied inspection.
“Well. It seems my work here is done. I’m sure we’ll be in touch again. Explore your new skills. Enjoy the fact that you now possess more influence than anyone else around you. Wield it well, and you will find yourself growing, Valerie Connors.”
Then, without ceremony—just as her mother had earlier—the Curator vanished before Valerie’s eyes.
Valerie took a steadying breath, then pulled up her System Interface.
---
System InterfaceCharacter StatusName: Valerie ConnorsAge: 32 yearsLevel: 1Race: Homo Sapiens—AugmentedCss: Velvet Reaper (Rare)Profession: N/A
Titles: Unbidden Pathfinder
Core Attributes (Stats):
Strength 16Dexterity 35Endurance 22Vitality 22Intelligence 23Wisdom 19Charisma 40Perception 28
Health: 330 / 330Stamina: 220 / 220Mana: 227 / 227
Free Points: 5
---
She studied the numbers, then, without hesitation, pced all five free points into Charisma.
A subtle warmth spread through her chest as her stats settled.Now, with the hood in pce, her Charisma surged to 54.She could feel it—a quiet, invisible pressure radiating outward. A new gravity that bent the world ever so slightly toward her will.
Like Mallory st night, Valerie thought, remembering the strange hush that had swept through the room when Mallory had spoken—the way conversation had died instantly under the weight of her presence.
Valerie smiled to herself.
Now I can do that too.
Pulling the Hood a little lower over her eyes, she turned back toward Grimwatch, her steps lighter, her shadow just a little deeper.