Condition Evolution 3: A LitRPG / Gamelit Adventure by Kevin Sinclair (ereader with dictionary .txt) 📕

I said, following her to the Interface Room. The only change that appeared was to Clarity, as expected. It now sat at 75%.

“I have to say, I’m pretty fucking annoyed about this, Shaun. I feel like my own mind has really misled me.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, “Yeah, it’s super shitty, but still a massive step forward. Don’t worry about it Ember, we always knew we’d have to do inventory at some point.”

“It’s going to be painstaking. How the fuck am I supposed to remember what I did at a specific hour when I was four?” She held her head in her hands.

“Hey, seriously, you’re not thinking about it the right way. I bet you can remember so much more now than you ever could before. I sure as shit can.”

“Yeah, I can, but not that much, it’s impossible.”

“It’s impossible now, but I know I could organize a lot of it into years. Once we’ve done that, our clarity will be better again. Then we can focus on each year, starting with the most recent ones.”

She looked at me with a confused expression. “Well shit on the table and call it a steak Shaun. You’re absolutely right, you fucking closet genius!”

“Yeah, I know. So what do we do now? Do we know when anyone’s coming for us?”

“Later today, I'd imagine. As for what now, were gonna smash the shit out of your room 'til we’re called for.”

“Ah shit, I knew you’d say that,” I grumbled. Thankfully, I was saved by a knock at the door. A Veiletian was standing there, holding a tray with two bowls of a cream-colored soup, a pile of bread and two glasses of water. This time the soup had a small, green garnish on top. “Here is your breakfast. Elyek asked me to inform you that it will be much later today for the meeting with the elders. If you wish to go to the training rooms at any point, or have any other needs, please don't hesitate to contact us.”

“Oh, okay. Thanks,” I said, taking the tray. “We’ll think about it. Is Calparr okay?”

“Yes. He contacted us last night and asked to be shown the way to the gym. He took his breakfast there this morning. He is much happier training than sitting in his room.”

“Oh, that's good. I'm glad he’s doing well. Thank you.”

When the Veiletian left, I carried the soup over to the table for Ember. “I'll warn you; it looks even less appetizing than last night's meal, although it has a garnish this time. I'm hoping it's cilantro. That stuff really makes the flavors pop.”

Ember took a spoonful of the soup with the green sprig in it. “Bleurgh! No, it's not. That shit tastes like soap.”

“Right. I'll take the fucker out, then,” I said, removing the offending article. To be fair, the soup tasted like shit, too. We both left a lot of it.

“Well, Shaun, it sounds like we have most of the day to wait around,” Ember grinned. “So let’s scrub the last bit of stupid out of that head of yours, eh?”

I’d like to say that the day passed in a blur, but it really didn’t. It was a long, arduous, boring day, and I refuse to talk about it anymore. You’ll just have to use your imagination for this little five-hour window of misery. But the main point is that I finally got my shit mostly together. The inventory screen popped into existence, and I was damned relieved. I depressingly had four more years of files than Ember, which sucked balls.

“Shall we start the inventory then?” Ember asked.

“Absolutely no fucking way! I’d literally rather get eaten by a troll. You can do yours if you want, and I’ll just lie on the bed and meditate on getting back to the FSU for a decent meal.”

“I actually agree with you. But you’re not just lying there. We’ll do some training instead. I want to see what 75% Mental Clarity looks like in real life.”

“Yeah, okay, that’s fair. As long as it’s levitation first, that’s the main thing I want to improve on. I’m not too bothered with telekinesis at the minute.”

“That's fine by me. I want to excel at both,” said a now smug Ember.

We went through a series of levitation practices that were limited by the height of the room. We were both doing far better than ever before. It was pretty exciting, all told. Apparently, Havok didn’t agree. Nonetheless, he did offer an amazing insight: “So, guys. I'm watching you fumble about like fat, pink babies on the floor. It’s embarrassing, and a little depressing. Jotun never looked like you guys when he flew. Still, he did know a lot of stuff you don't.”

“Flew?”

“Well, that’s what it looked like when he did it. When you two do it, I don’t even know what it looks like. But I'm thinking, is there a way to link up your eyes to your External Interface room, then you don’t have to fuck about like you’re doing.”

“I don't think there is, pal. Ogun told us it was just about increasing Mental Clarity to the point we could operate in the two places at once.”

“What if I told you that’s a common misconception encouraged by the elite, like Jotun, to give them an advantage over other Fystr? Now, I only think this from what I picked up from being around Jotun. I definitely know he didn’t operate like you guys do, or most other Fystr for that matter. It’s part of what made him so formidable. He never even told his fellow crew members about it, because he didn't want the competition. He wanted to be the best and kept many secrets.”

“Really?” Ember said. Before Havok had a chance to respond, Ember continued, “So, Havok, you know I like you, right? But I have to ask, why the fuck are you only telling us this now?”

“I like you too, Ember, and it just never fucking came up before,” Havok replied, deadpan.

I had