Sol sat there for a long moment, staring at nothing, his mind spiraling with everything that had just been revealed to him. Three affinities. Mythic classification. The ability to manipulate time itself. And now, the reassurance that he could conceal one of them. The weight of it all pressed down on him, but instead of fear, there was something else growing inside him—hunger.
Not for power. Not for control. But for knowledge.
He needed to understand. If he was going to survive, if he was going to navigate this new reality, he had to know everything about affinities. Where they came from. How they worked. How they evolved. And, most importantly, how many others out there had something like what he had.
With a deep breath, he pushed himself up from the floor, his limbs still heavy from the weight of revelation. He walked over to the small, worn-out desk in the corner of his room and activated his holograph. A soft blue glow flickered to life, projecting a floating interface before him. His fingers moved fast as he inputted search parameters, filtering through the dense archives of the net.
He started with the origins of affinities. The data was scattered, fragmented across centuries, theories clashing with one another. Some historians believed affinities had always existed in humans but lay dormant until an unknown event triggered their awakening. Others claimed they were a result of genetic mutation, a leap in human evolution. Religious sects whispered of divine intervention, a gift—or a curse—from cosmic beings beyond the stars. But no matter the theory, there was no absolute explanation. Only speculation, myths, and pieces of data that refused to align.
His searches deepened as he looked into the first recorded cases. A war-torn planet nearly a thousand years ago. Soldiers suddenly manifesting abilities beyond human comprehension. Some could wield fire as if it were a limb, others could shift the fabric of reality around them. Those with affinities reshaped battlefields, turning wars that should have lasted decades into mere months. Governments took notice. Scientists dissected the phenomenon. The first generations of affinity wielders were feared, worshiped, or destroyed depending on where they appeared. But even then, no one truly understood where it came from.
Then came the classification system.
The rankings were based on power, rarity, and stability. Common affinities like elemental manipulation—fire, water, earth, wind—were widespread, documented in thousands of cases. More advanced variations like gravity control, spatial distortion, and psychic abilities were rarer, falling into the Rare or Ultra Rare categories. Then there were the affinities so scarce, so unpredictable, that they were labeled as Mythic. Time, Space, Life, Death, and Soul. These weren't just abilities; they were fundamental forces of existence, the kind that mortals were never meant to wield.
Sol clenched his jaw. He had one of them.
He moved on to researching the strongest humans ever recorded.
His screen flooded with names. Legendary figures who had shaped history. Titans of war, rulers of planets, assassins who could eliminate entire battalions in the blink of an eye. Some were celebrated as heroes, others had vanished into obscurity, their existence erased for fear of what they could do. Every single one of them had affinities that pushed the boundaries of what was known—yet none of them had been documented with three.
He felt his pulse quicken. How rare was he?
Digging deeper, he looked into affinity evolution. Some affinities remained static, their users mastering a singular concept. Others evolved, growing stronger, mutating into something entirely different. Ice turning into absolute zero. Electricity manifesting into plasma. The ability to read emotions transforming into outright mind control. The data was inconsistent, but the message was clear—affinities were not stagnant. They grew. Changed. Adapted to their users.
What would happen to his?
His hands hovered over the interface, the glow of the holograph casting sharp shadows across his face. He needed more than just raw information. He needed answers.
But there was one question lingering in the back of his mind, the one that refused to be silenced no matter how much data he pulled up.
Could an affinity be created?
Not awakened. Not evolved. But engineered.
And if so, who had already done it?
His search expanded as more questions surfaced, each leading him deeper into the mysteries of affinities.
Affinity suppression and concealment had always been a subject of interest. Were there historical records of individuals hiding or suppressing their affinities? Could there be methods, whether through technology or rigorous training, that allowed someone to mask their affinity beyond what his system offered? It made him wonder—how many people in power had hidden affinities, waiting for the right moment to reveal them?
Then there was the question of affinity interactions and synergy. Did affinities interact in ways yet to be discovered? Could someone with multiple affinities merge them into something entirely new, like fusing Time and Space to create Dimensional Manipulation? Were there combat styles built on the combination of different affinities, turning them into devastating weapons?
As he dove into theories on Mythic affinities, he found references to myths and legends about past users of Time, Space, Life, Death, and Soul. Some stories depicted them as beings of chaos, disrupting the natural flow of reality, while others painted them as guiding forces, balancing existence itself. But were these affinities predictable, or did they manifest in chaotic and dangerous ways? And if they were so rare, were there organizations dedicated to hunting or studying individuals who possessed them?
The role of affinities in society became another key topic. How were Mythic affinity users perceived—were they revered as gods, feared as monsters, or something in between? Did governments have contingency plans in place for dealing with someone who possessed an affinity that could destabilize entire systems? Had wars been fought in secret, not over land or resources, but over the control of affinity users?
The idea of affinity engineering fascinated and unsettled him. Had there been attempts to artificially create affinities? If so, could there be underground experiments or secret projects aimed at producing Mythic affinities? And if there were, what happened to the failed experiments? Were they disposed of, hidden, or did some of them escape into the world, unknown and unchecked?
Finally, he explored the evolution of affinities and their unknown potential. Were there cases where affinities mutated into something unrecognizable? Could an affinity degrade over time or even disappear entirely? And was there a way to push an affinity beyond recorded limits, unlocking something completely new?
Every answer led to more questions, and the deeper he went, the more he realized how little the universe truly understood about affinities. It wasn't just about survival anymore. It wasn't just about staying hidden.
Sol wanted to know.
His fingers moved swiftly over the holographic interface as he shifted his focus to something more immediate—how to raise his affinity rating. Countless articles, research papers, and forum discussions flooded the screen, and while some theories were outlandish, the vast majority pointed to the same conclusion.
The more you use your affinity, the stronger it becomes. Affinities weren't static; they grew with experience, practice, and understanding. Mastery wasn't just about raw talent—it was about knowledge. Those who deeply understood their affinity could push their rating to new heights. For instance, someone with a fire affinity who studied the inner workings of heat, combustion, and thermal dynamics would see exponential growth in their rating.
One major breakthrough caught his attention—the 25% threshold. Across all recorded cases, there was a substantial change at every 25% increment. The difficulty of progressing beyond these markers increased dramatically, but crossing each threshold granted significant boosts in either power, control, or entirely new abilities. Those who had reached 50% were considered elites, and those who had surpassed 75% were so rare they could be counted in history books.
Sol leaned back, processing the implications. If his affinities were going to grow, he would need to train, experiment, and most importantly—understand.