Before he could finish the thought to accept the desk was gone, he was once again floating in the vastness of the void. The pale blue-green light materialized before him, expanding into a shimmering, semi-translucent window. It wasn't a computer screen; it felt more like a membrane stretched between realities, pulsing with a cool, internal energy. Thousands upon thousands of entries flooded into view, scrolling past in an endless torrent of text and glowing glyphs. He could see words like;
Golden Light Priest,
Chronomancer,
Astral Weaver,
Blade Dancer,
Flesh Sculptor,
and countless others. Each accompanied by a faint, shifting icon that defied clear focus. The sheer volume was overwhelming, a library of impossible vocations stretching into infinity.
The torrent slowed, the chaotic stream of classes condensing, coalescing into a far more manageable list of perhaps a few dozen options.
The list of options shrank, the infinite library of possibilities condensing into a much more digestible list. The chaotic mass of names and icons sorted itself into neat, glowing lines. He focused on the task, trying to pin down what he actually wanted from this impossible situation.
`I need something... effective. Something that lets me stay away from the things trying to eat me, but still hit hard. And... something with summons. I've always liked having minions to do the heavy lifting.′
As he solidified the preferences in his mind, the list reacted instantly.
Beast Tamer,
Swarm Lord,
and
Golemancer,
After focusing on the
Beast Tamer.
A new Window appeared with a far more detailed description.
A warrior of the wild who forges unbreakable bonds with the creatures of a mana-infused world. The Beast Tamer fights alongside their bonded companions, their strength a reflection of their bond and their mastery over the natural and unnatural life that now flourishes.
Below it, the core abilities were listed:
Beast Bond,
Pack Alpha,
and
Primal Roar.
He saw the potential, a direct and visceral connection to powerful allies, but the idea of having to find and bond with actual, potentially hostile beasts in a world he didn't know felt incredibly risky. He swiped the window away.
His gaze drifted down the list, past more martial and magical professions, until he found it: a single entry.
Dronemancer.
`That's... that's perfect. Machines. Logical. Upgradeable. No messy bonding with an animal that might decide I look like dinner one day.′
He focused his will on it, trying to force the selection, to make this single, sensible choice his reality. The world seemed to hold its breath. The void-light shimmered, and a new, definitive window burned into existence, its text stark and absolute.
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He looked at this class for a while, going through all possible scenarios in his mind.
`Question, you said before that I will get runes, to awaken others of my choosing? Let's say I'd like someone with knowledge about what's to come, can I use such a Rune on you?′
The void did not answer for a while, as if it was thinking about the answer.
Before the Guide could finish its explanation, a second voice cut in, resonating through the void with an icy, metallic precision that made the Guide's polite tone seem warm by comparison.
The world, or what little of it there was, flickered. The pale blue light of the class selection window sputtered like a dying candle. The featureless Guide standing before him seemed to warp, its smooth, plastic-like surface rippling as if some unseen force was trying to peel it away. A low hum filled the void, a sound of immense power being rerouted, and the air, or lack thereof, grew heavy with a sense of profound, irrevocable change.
The space beside the shimmering mannequin began to distort, coalescing, a faint silhouette forming in the gloom as raw, untamed energy was hammered into the shape of a person.
`Designate the soul's vessel? What the hell does that mean? Are you asking me to pick a body for this thing?′
A new, crystalline window materialized, replacing the class selection prompt. It was simpler, more direct. On one side was a rotating, three-dimensional model of the featureless Guide, its form still glitching erratically. On the other, a blank humanoid template shimmered, like a wireframe waiting for input.
He stared at the two options. The glitching mannequin represented stability, a known quantity, however strange. The blank template was a terrifying prospect, an infinite canvas of choices he wasn't prepared to make. The second voice, the one in control, had no patience for hesitation.
The countdown began, numbers ticking down in the void. He had seconds to decide the form of the being he was supposed to lead humanity with, a choice made under duress with consequences he couldn't possibly fathom.
`Ahh~ Fuck... Fabricate biological vessel tailored to my personal preferences, class frontline heavy brawler type... sup tank with damage possibility.′
The words were out of his mind before he could process the full implication, a desperate gamble to create someone useful, something that could take a punch. The timer vanished and with it the Guide.
The void went quiet. He looked at the floating Class selection window in front of him and thought.
`Yes, I confirm Dronemancer.′