THE PICKAXE FELL to pieces in his hands. "What happened?" Zan thought. One minute, totally fine, the pickaxe chipped away without issue. The next? A rivulet appeared through its body and then, poof, it fell to several large pieces at his feet.

  He looked around. No one noticed or cared his pickaxe lost the fight.

  "Fine," he muttered, giggling to himself at the unexpected breakage.

  The pieces he piled into his arms. He dumped them next to the pile of equipment they had rented from the community. They probably won't be happy with a pickaxe breaking. But what can I do? Use magic to mend it?

  "Yes. That is exactly what I can do..." he told himself.

  The sky held high the Slipstream. He reached toward the sky, uttered the holy prayer, and was filled with magical radiance. He wanted to spend some time mending the pickaxe he broke, but the bunker took priority. He would repair later... maybe he would even delegate it to Whiskey or Jiehong? He was their Order Master, after all.

  With new pick in hand, he worked the land. Hammering away at the sediment all and every way despite the lazy simmering summer haze bearing down upon their pick-blades. Sweat. Channel. Swing. Dint -- 'dint' as the tip met earthen decay. And then, before it all faded away, leaving him with just another lump of a day, the tip would break, which sent him in search of another pick-blade.

  Shattering into his concentration, his headset System, 'The Command Center System,' he remembered to call it by its technical name, alerted him to a new notification. "What could it be?" he gasped while between swings.

  [Skill(s) Leveled Up!] [Following Skills Leveled Up: Physicality, Magical Artes]

  [Achievement Unlocked: Physicality Novice]

  [Achievement Unlocked: Magical Novice]

  His 'achievement' view dominated his vision. He quickly checked to see the many, many achievements he had yet to earn. With these two new ones, he was up to a fair handful. He did want to earn more and more. The idea of having a kind of 'trophy shelf,' so to speak, had always amused him. Ever since he was a small child and he saw Jiehong's parents, and their many ribbons for competitions they competed in back in their homeland. What hobbies or talents they nourished to earn accolades he did not know. Such were things they never deigned to speak with him about. Jiehong, on the other hand...?

  Not knowing what the System meant by 'skills,' he brought up the status view for his Skill Set. He saw only the two skills he had leveled up -- 'physicality' and the 'magical artes.' No other so-called 'Skills' in his 'Set' were visible. Yet when he really looked at those two skills, something happened. He could see a number next to each. For both Skills, that number was '1.' A humble, simple, one.

  "What did it mean?" he asked himself with having any way of knowing. During moments like these, it was commonplace for him to ask the Screen Master. This time, however, he did not think it would do him very good. Repeatedly, Simulacrum had told him the 'Command Center System' was only an approximation of the world as seen through and judged by his perception and objective talents. He could ask the Screen Master how that functioned, device-construction wise, but it wouldn't tell him anything more about how the headset worked for him.

  This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.

  He concentrated harder on the number, really looking at it, as though the number would somehow change because--

  And then the number changed.

  Not the number-number, the 'one' which appeared at the end of Physicality and Magical Artes. No, the number beyond that, which he saw only now appeared. Coming after the primary number, he saw a string of lesser numbers, their size micro compared to the large one-digit. So, he saw something which looked like 'Physicality 1 (0.5750099),' the secondary numbers within parenthetical marks. "I can effect change? Or maybe I can notice change if I focus?" he thought aloud.

  He did not understand what that number meant; holding the number in his mind, he swung his new pickaxe and saw the number go up. He did not swing to test anything specifically related to the number, only to make himself look busy while he fiddled with his headset. He saw that secondary number climb at the strike of his pick upon sediment. Now, the parenthetical number climbed, slightly, to display the following: '0.57010.'

  "What does it mean?" he wondered, knowing in his heart-of-hearts it did not mean anything other than what it was literally telling him. A sub-number was going up. Once that sub-number reached a certain milestone, he would gain a new primary number. 'Two,' he imagined, if basic numerology continued to hold up to scrutiny, that is.

  And then, while he considered, a status bar appeared.

  It was a long rectangular. It was short and fat. On its butt, a shaded sliver stuck and colored in a tiny fragment. "That shaded fragment is what I have gained toward my next level so far?" It was a wild guess. But what else could it be? The skill set, after all, clearly measured progress. His progress.

  Whirl: his concentration dithered over about how the rectangular measuring box looked so large. He thought it better if it were longer and skinnier.

  He beheld a changed box in an instant -- it became as he willed: longer and skinnier.

  The box now displayed his progress, but since the bar was longer, skinnier, and needed much more 'box,' his shaded progress looked a little more substantial. Which pleased him.

  His curiosity satiated for the time being, he looked briefly at his Achievement View before closing the headset's HUD. Still only a basic handful, even with the few he recently got. He felt the drive inside of him. It roared for him, urged him to let his simplistic side take over and give into how rich it felt when he saw an Achievement go off and ping the alert. A simple pleasure it sure was, and that was like he liked about it.

  Closing his HUD by holding shut his eye lids and willing the interface to vanish, when he opened his eyes once more, he saw the normal reality all his teammates and employees saw -- nothing. Trees. A settlement nearby. Earth meant to be dug.

  "You looked distracted," Jiehong mentioned. "More headset troubles?"

  "Yeah. Well, not troubles. It gave me some alerts, is all," he replied.

  "Alerts? Like for your health?"

  "No, like, for measuring my progress against standards the Shiv Order have historically maintained. Or that is how the Screen Master talked about how my headset functions. IT analyzes the world and helps me make sense of the world. It changes all the time. But, you know, that's what I like about it. It helps me keep apace of myself. It has these things called 'Skill Sets' and 'Achievements,' which are some of the tools used to help measure how much I have grown Martially and even like Physically and Spiritually, if you can believe it," Zan explained to his brother.

  "It is hard to believe. It sounds confusing. I am happy I don't have to deal with all that," Jiehong said, his look being one of genuine dismay.

  "It isn't as bad as it sounds. I'm just bad at explaining it. It helps push me to better myself, let's just say. It sounds stupid, maybe, but I like how I feel when I see an Achievement pop up. It makes me want to earn another Achievement right after. They aren't real, I know, not really. But my gains are real. That's what I care about."

  "As long as you don't lose your mind, that all should be fine. The Wardens gave you it to use, so it sounds like you're warming up to it well. You are doing those things which leaders do, you know. You're getting better, at least a little bit, every day. Like today, you're handling yourself well, little bro."

  He blushed crimson at his brother's praise.

  Their conversation over, he returned to his work. Banging away, causing more axes to break.