“First, let’s get started with the basics.” Irin began. “You’ve already had some experience with it, but people’s abilities in the Outer Realms are directly correlated to how much Possibility they can wield. Try looking around the hall.”

Elena glanced away from Irin and scanned around.

“What do you see?”

“People.”

“Okay— Now try focusing on someone. Pick anyone you find interesting. You’ll probably get a knack for it faster than most people do, considering you’ve already used Possibility to some extent, but try getting in that same state of mind you had before.”

“State of mind, huh?”

Elena closed her eyes and envisioned the scene when she first arrived. Back then, she came to the realization that the world felt as if it were listening to her. Then, she sensed hostility, and directed her desire towards it.

“No—it’s not desire. It’s something else… Intention, perhaps?”

Without meaning to, she muttered her realization, “It’s like a conversation.”

“Huh?”

“Sensing and wielding Possibility is like having a conversation with reality.”

“So that’s how you see it… Anyways, what do you see?”

“There’s a distortion. It’s almost like a pressure that radiates out from them,” she remarked. “That guy with the shield—his pressure is focused around that shield. And that lady wearing a robe is releasing it from the end of her staff.”

Irin nodded.

“What you’re seeing is Possibility Density. Essentially, it’s an indicator of how potent a person’s shaping is. Try looking at mine now.”

Steadily, a gentle, slightly flickering outline rose around him.

“It’s… balanced— More even than anyone else’s here.”

Irin chuckled, replying, “That’s not necessarily a good thing. I’m not defined enough yet, that’s all.”

“If everything that makes you you can be summarized in a definition, then you’re doing something wrong.”

Her matter-of-fact tone caught him off guard, and he quickly cleared his throat. Yet, for some reason, those words put him at ease, his grip on the armrest slightly loosening.

Elena now looked down at herself. She hadn’t forgotten the comment from the guards at the city gate. For whatever reason, to others, her own Possibility Density seemed to be laughably small.

“If control is quantified by density, then why does Possibility respond to me the way it does?”

The surrounding air slightly compressed towards her.

“Now onto shaping. Essentially, Shapers are people capable of converting Possibility into reality, producing tangible effects. They’re categorized into seven stages depending on how many ‘Commands’ they’ve learned.”

“I’m assuming the commands each embody some core concept of Possibility?”

“Exactly.”

“So is it an ability-barrier that divides the capabilities of each stage?”

“Not quite— The thing about shaping is that pure power or skill doesn’t make you the strongest. Even if you see or hear the higher Commands in action, if you can’t interpret them yourself, you won’t be able to use them.”

“A sort of conceptual barrier…”

“Everyone’s use of the Commands is slightly different as well. They vary depending on your own background and worldview, so unless you’re the exact same as someone else, they can’t simply explain the higher Commands to you—Wait, no, that’s not exactly it… That’s how people explain it, though—”

In Irin’s hesitation, Elena came across a realization.

“It’s understanding. If wielding Possibility is a conversation, you have to be able to understand what it says to properly reply. And the way you understand is shaped by how you’ve lived your life.”

“That’s… that’s just it, actually— It’s very you, but it makes sense.”

“By the way, what stage are you?”

Irin’s face suddenly turned bright red.

“That’s… uh… I’m Stage 0…” he mumbled, before adding, “I know about the first two Commands though! I’ve tried to understand them as best as I could from my mentor but…” he trailed off. “They just don’t work for me.”

Elena cocked her head.

“Just—watch.”

He held out his palm.

To Elena, he seemed to be looking at something she couldn’t see. It was the same when they were leaving the Wild Ring before.

Noticing her blank expression, he sighed, “So you can’t see it either…”

She shook her head.

“Anyways, that’s enough of that,” he declared, swatting at the air in front of him.

“The First Command, Creator, is the act of bringing Possibility into physical form, while the Second Command, Editor, is the act of imbuing or altering things created by your First Command with Possibility.”

Across the room, an adventurer that had been eavesdropping proudly attempted mimicking what Irin had explained. Unfortunately, the brief spark of Possibility he had conjured quickly fizzled out, leading to him throwing his sword at the wall in frustration, much to Elena’s amusement.

“I’m sorry I can’t teach you anything else—”

“No, don’t be. I can work with this information. What about dreaming, though?”

“Huh?”

“Back then, you were surprised when I called myself a dreamer. That’s a title in this world too, right? Just like Shapers.”

“Ah. There’s only nine people that’ve ever been acknowledged as Dreamers, so…” 

Those words echoed down the hall as nearby conversations simultaneously went silent, then grew into whispers and glances directed towards Irin and Elena.

Irin leaned in towards Elena, lowering his voice, “I can’t say I really understand—”

Before he could finish, the front doors burst open, a rowdy clamor flooding in from the streets outside.

Everyone turned their heads to see just who it was that had the guts to make such an entrance.

“Hey, Waker’s back!”

Elena estimated there were about nine or ten men in that party, all of whom seemed to boast overwhelming strength in their chiseled builds. However, it was their leader—a bald, middle aged-looking man, that caught her eye the most.

His body was more or less the same as the rest, but his Possibility Density said otherwise, towering over them all. On top of that, the outline of his presence bore a noticeable texture, being akin to that of sandpaper. 

“He’s a veteran adventurer— That’s for sure.”

As they made their way through the hall, his eyes swept over each and every adventurer, and they responded with surprising familiarity. 

“You’re back already?!”

“Alive, aren’t we?” he replied with a hearty, booming chuckle.

One of the party members behind him tossed a coin towards the bartender, declaring, “Oi! If someone’s taken that suicide quest, it’s drinks for everyone on me!”

The leader, who Elena now pieced together was the one called “Waker,” approached the board and feigned disappointment.

“Damn! Looks like nobody wants to die that badly, huh?”

The hall roared with laughter.

Elena whispered to Irin, “Who’s he?” but before Irin could reply, Waker’s eyes settled on the two.

“If it isn’t Irin! What’re you doing back here already? Don’t tell me you finally got smart and gave up on the First Frontier.”

He began to approach their table as the rest of his party scattered about, finding old friends and acquaintances to mingle with.

Irin gave a sheepish grin, replying, “Nah… The party just got separated out in the Wild Ring, that’s all.”

“Ah, is that so? You came back here alone then?”

“Not entirely,” Irin gestured towards Elena.

“Oh! And who might you be, young lady?”

“Elena,” she replied curtly, being somewhat put off by his overly boisterous disposition. At least, in some ways, he seemed more genuine, unlike someone else she knew back on Earth.

“I see. It’s a fine name! You an adventurer like Irin?”

“Not really. I’m just settling into the Outer Realms for now.”

“Ah! A newcomer! Well, you’re always welcome around here. Anyways, Irin, how was my brother doing before you two got split?”

“Brother?”

Elena saw Irin go pale, his lips quivering slightly now.

“Your brother… I-I’m sorry…”

Waker’s smile began to fade.

“He was… erased… He gave his life so the rest of us could get away…” Irin trailed off and looked away, unable to meet Waker’s eyes.

The man who just moments ago was brimming with liveliness stumbled a bit, then fell backwards onto a chair, his arms going limp as his sheathed sword clattered onto the floor.

“He— Is that so…” he trembled a bit, sighing and burying his face in his large palms.

After a while, he finally looked up at Irin again, faintly asking “...were you… at least able to retrieve his spear…? ”

Irin bit his lip.

“No… It was taken by a reflector-type… I’m sorry…”

“Spear…” Elena thought, her mind rewinding to the moment she fought the dream leech.

She was certain— That dream leech had used a spear-based attack against her. If the category of “reflector-type” hinted at anything… She investigated the man, honing in on the finest nuances of his Possibility Density she could see.

“If shaping is influenced by one’s background, and this man really is the brother of the original owner of those spears…”

She couldn’t explain it, but there was a similarity—a faint resonance between those spears and this man’s Possibility.

Maybe, just maybe. If she could rewire that memory and—

“I can still picture it. It’s vivid. Vivid enough that—”

Almost instinctually, she reached out towards that image in her head. Before she, or anyone for that matter, realized what was happening, a violent gust of wind burst out in front of her, the spear materializing in her hand.

She couldn’t tell back then, but now, she could clearly see its details. The shaft was as dark as the night sky, and the spearhead was neatly engraved with a lustrous silver.

“You… why do you…?”

“Elena…?”

A piercing gaze glared into Elena’s soul, Waker’s eyebrows twitching and his trembling hands clenching into fists. In an instant, he stood up, knocking the chair over as he unsheathed his sword.

“You—! Dream Hunter—!” 

Several other nearby adventurers quickly encircled the group, their blades also drawn and aimed at her chest.

Hearing the commotion, the receptionist burst out from behind the desk, demanding to know what was going on.

Waker grimaced, a bitter smile showing through clenched teeth.

“A Dream Hunter has performed an extraction on a fellow adventurer.”