Andy in the Apocalypse [LitRPG System Apocalypse] 3.30 Truths

30 – Truths

Andy’s senses ca back to him gradually at first, then in a rush. As he lay there blinking—for he’d fallen onto his back—he felt convinced that he hadn’t been out long at all; there was no fuzzy confusion, the world outside the glass box was still swaying, rushing by in blurry lines of color and light, and when he sat up, he wasn’t stiff or sore or groggy.

“Good,” he grunted, pulling up his status sheet to look at his attributes:

Perception: 9

Will: 8

Strength: 9

Vitality: 9

Speed: 13

There it was: the beautiful number nine beside his Perception stat. His Strength and Will were both nine too, which made him wonder if his Perception hadn’t been at the human limit—just his limit.

He looked around, staring at the glass walls. Was his vision different? Maybe things were a little sharper—a little brighter—but he wasn’t certain. There weren’t any sounds to speak of in the place, so he couldn’t test his hearing, nor could he speak to anyone to see if he felt any cleverer with regard to reading the subtext of their words.

All in all, Andy felt underwheld—the jump from eight to nine in Perception was hard to asure in the glass box. Still, he’d broken the ceiling, and he was pretty sure that he’d be able to go higher if he had any more points to apply. Was it enough, though?

What if Seraphine had been a particularly perceptive person? What if her natural limit was nine? Maybe the Codex entry needed a perception of ten or eleven!

Andy groaned, irritated by his usual ability to find the worst-case scenario and fixate on it. He brushed aside the thoughts, reaching into his storage ring for the magical book. The fact of the matter was that he wouldn’t know until he tried.

He held the heavy book in his hands, but his resolve began to waver as he watched the world shift outside the glass walls. Was this really the smartest play? He had no idea what the book would do. Would it be wiser to just ready himself—switch his class back to Brimstone Stalker and prepare to fight?

The problem was that he’d done that for hours already. He didn’t know what Seraphine was doing out there; for all he knew, she was about to drop the glass box down a well and forget about him. None of his current abilities, nor his belongings, seed to offer any solutions to his predicant, but maybe an answer was inside the book. Nodding, as if to reassure himself, he opened the front cover and turned to the first page of tiny, intricate runic words.

He stared, trying to make out the glyphs he recognized from his own experints, but then the symbols began to shift and swirl, and this ti, the System didn’t throw up a ssage stopping the process. Andy grinned as he watched the glowing symbols lift off the page, spiraling toward his eyes, and when the first bright character hit him, the world seed to freeze and a System ssage appeared:

***Congratulations, Andy! You’ve discovered a rare Codex entry. Opportunities like this don’t grow on trees—though if they did, you’d be a safe bet for finding one.

This Codex contains the basic principles of an extrely uncommon school of magic: Axiomancy. Axiomatic Magic works by influencing the underlying principles of the universe—those quiet rules that govern how things persist, change, and co undone.

Please note: This path does not align cleanly with your current class, but it is compatible. If you proceed, your Glyphwright class will be altered, and the changes may include the degradation, replacent, or loss of certain abilities tied to standardized glyph construction.

In short: you will gain sothing rare at the cost of sothing familiar.

Do you wish to proceed?***

Andy read the ssage twice, nervously glancing outside the blurry blue glass of the box. He wished he had more ti to think—more ti to consider his options. Was Glyphwright the right choice? Should he switch back to Brimstone Stalker and then study the Codex? Another glance at the glass walls around him and he knew he wouldn’t try that; he couldn’t risk multiple class changes in his current predicant. Besides, he liked Brimstone Stalker.

Glyphwright was great; he enjoyed the change of pace that the crafting of magical items gave him, but Axiomancy sounded ridiculously cool, and it seed like it was significantly more rare than whatever glyph-carving magic he was currently doing. It wasn’t as if the System said he was definitely going to lose all his Glyphwright abilities, anyway. Right?

No answers appeared out of the ether, so Andy decided to go with his gut. Swallowing and clearing his throat, he said, “Yes.”

Once again, the spiraling runes comnced flowing, pouring into his eyes with tiny bright flashes, and tingles of warmth that spread further and further through his skull, until his entire head was abuzz with the not-unpleasant sensation.

For a minute, as the stream of glowing runes seed to slow, Andy thought he might maintain consciousness. Maybe gaining a school of magic that altered one’s current class wasn’t the sa as changing from one class to another. Maybe—

The runes sped up, streaking so fast that they beca a solid beam of light and Andy’s world exploded, everything washing out until nothing was left but the light and the burning rivers of heat that ran from his eyes, through his brain, down his spine, and into every corner of his body. He lost himself utterly, and when he blinked awake, he had no concept of where or when it was for several long monts.

When the faintly blue ceiling finally ca into focus and Andy began to explore his mories, the System aided his orientation by sending him a string of bright, text-filled ssages:

***Congratulations, Andy! You’ve discovered a new class! By learning Axiomatic Magic, your Glyphwright class has beco: Axiom Scribe. Because the two classes had compatible mana channels, you’ve maintained level 7. You’re treading on unexplored ground, and the System approves! You’ve been granted an extra Improvent Point!

Alert! Axiomancy has overwritten many of your Glyphwright spell lines: Harden Enchantnt, Evaluate Material, Glyph of Fate, Glyph of Resilience, Glyph of Defense, and Strip Enchantnt have all been lost. This was necessary to maintain the integrity of your new class. You’ve been refunded 6 Improvent Points.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Additionally, your innate ability, Rune Carving, has morphed into the bound ability Axiomatic Artistry.

Axiomatic Artistry – Bound: You may draw glyphs in open space, using mana as both dium and anchor. These glyphs form rapidly but degrade quickly, trading stability for flexibility. Precision, intent, and conceptual clarity now directly influence the strength and reliability of your axioms.

As a level 7 Axiom Scribe, you’ve been granted the following spells:

Axiom of Passage – Bound: You draw an axiom that declares a valid path exists between two points. For a brief duration, that path may be traversed as though unobstructed. The stability of the passage depends on the environnt; simple barriers yield more readily, while dense or magically reinforced materials allow only fleeting or partial transit. Mana Cost: 100.

Axiom of Separation – Bound: You draw an axiom that declares a target is not a single, unified whole. For a short ti, its components are treated as distinct rather than continuous, weakening cohesion and possibly separating along natural boundaries such as seams, joints, or layered structures. Mana Cost: 50.***

Even before he finished reading the final ssage, Andy leaped to his feet; the whole ti he’d been scanning through the ssages, the details of his situation, hidden by his fuzzy ntal state, clarified, and he was certain he must be about to be murdered in so horrific, impossible to imagine way.

Spear in hand, he turned, surveying the blue-tinted interior of the glass box. Things seed dimr than before, which was strange considering his upgrade to Perception, but when he studied the walls, it beca clear why: there was no light source. As he stared, turning in a slow circle, he realized that wasn’t quite true. He could make out vague shadowy shapes beyond the glass, but things were definitely dimr.

He didn’t know what it ant, but one thing was certain: the box was no longer moving. Things were stationary out there. Had Seraphine set it sowhere? Had she done what Andy had half-jokingly speculated and tossed it down a well? Frowning, he scanned the room again and decided his life wasn’t in imminent danger. That said, he refocused on the System ssages and tried to make more sense of everything.

It seed the new spell line had done exactly what the System had warned might happen. Being only partially compatible with his Glyphwright class, it had changed it wholly. He’d lost his magical crafting class, but he’d gained sothing else—sothing that was potentially very powerful, if he were understanding things correctly.

He read the description for the Axiom of Passage again and shook his head. Once again, the System seed to be rewarding his intentions. What were the odds that one of the two early-level abilities of a new class would be exactly what he needed. “Don’t jump to conclusions,” he whispered, trying to temper his excitent with caution. It sounded like it might allow him to get out of the box, but he wasn’t sure it would work on a dinsional container.

“Are you favoring , System?” he asked, knowing damn well there would be no answer. After swiping away the ssages, Andy looked inward, searching his mind for the implanted knowledge of the Axiomatic spell line. He readily found his knowledge of his new spells and abilities. What a strange brand of magic! Andy knew he could make a passage through a wall, but he also knew that the spell would be weaker if he couldn’t picture the other side.

Beyond such knowledge, his general understanding was fairly limited. Axioms were truths, and what he was doing with his spells was using mana to impose new truths on the universe. The universe would resist, and if he used the magic on conscious entities, they could resist too. The stronger he was—the stronger his Will, and the more skillful his magic—the harder it would be to resist him.

He wondered if there was a way to learn axioms—basically his new class’s spells—other than through leveling the class.

Andy paused. Rune Carving was gone. Glyphwright was gone. It stung more than he expected.

He supposed it sort of made sense that the System would use that “slot” to implant his new Axiom Artistry skill, but it was more than a little irritating. Andy had just started to have so fun with the new ability. He wondered if he could learn it again just as easily? So of his friends had gained various enchanting skills by doing what he’d done, but he couldn’t be sure any of them specifically learned Rune Carving. Had it been part of his Glyphwright class?

Andy pushed the speculation aside; now wasn’t the ti. Judging by the exterior of the box, Seraphine had done sothing, and who knew what the next stage of her plan was? Banking on his new spell working, Andy stooped to collect all the weapons he’d been enchanting to level his Glyphwright class, and then he looked around, ensuring he hadn’t left anything of value for Seraphine.

The Codex book was gone; dissolved when he’d absorbed the Axiomancy knowledge. Everything else of value was already inside his dinsional ring—nearly filling it. Satisfied, he gripped his best spear and approached the glass wall in front of him. As he walked, he looked at his status sheet, checking his Improvent Points—seven. “At least that’s good,” he said, glad that the System hadn’t wiped out his old skills without any sort of refund.

His general knowledge of Axiomancy was limited, but he knew that Axiomatic Artistry—the ability to scribe the axioms in the air—would indirectly affect the strength of the axioms. The better his axiom “art,” the longer it would persist, and the longer it persisted, the longer it would continue to reinforce the axioms. Of course, if he leveled the axioms themselves, that was a more direct route to improving their strength.

He had serious doubts about his ability to convince the universe that there should be a pathway through the glass wall from one dinsion into another. It sounded like a big ask. He had to try, though, didn’t he? For one thing, he didn’t have any other options that he could think of, and for another, the fact that he’d gotten the axiom just felt too damn convenient for there not to be any chance of it working.

He thought about his other new spell, the Axiom of Separation. If he could convince the glass box that it wasn’t a single thing, that it ought to separate into its component parts, what would happen to him? Would he be ejected into his proper dinsion, or would the pocket dinsion collapse, obliterating him? He barked a short laugh, shaking his head. That would be a last resort.

Before he spent any Improvent Points, Andy wanted to get a feel for the magic. He wanted to see just what he could do with rank-one abilities. He stood before the glass, concentrated on the truth he wanted to impose on the universe and on the magical glass box. Naly, he focused on an alternate reality in which there was a clear path through that wall to the space beyond. His axiom was weakened by his inability to picture the other side clearly, but he knew he could try; the knowledge was just there.

As the truth solidified in his mind, Andy lifted his right hand and brushed his gloved fingers through the air, channeling mana into the Axiom of Passage. Purple-tinted light flowed from his fingertips, clinging to the air wherever he drew them. He was crafting a pattern, complex and beautiful, not unlike the glyphs he used to make with his Glyphwright class. The more he worked, the more convoluted the glowing purple brushstrokes beca, the more he understood the connection between his old class and this new school of magic.

Andy continued to repeat the truth he’d constructed, saying it over and over in his mind, visualizing a passage to the point where even he believed it was there. When the glyph was complete—a many-sided structure of intersecting lines and curving brushstrokes—it flared with mana, and the glass wall cracked. The two jagged edges stretched apart—without shattering—to reveal a dark room on the other side.

Pitted basalt flagstones stretched away from the jagged edges of the opening, and Andy saw a wall constructed of similar stones maybe twenty paces away. A faint red light illuminated the space, but he couldn’t see the source.

Andy took in those details in just a pair of seconds, and that was all the ti he got. With a rush of pressure, the jagged glass edges rushed together, and the wall was whole again; his Axiom had been defeated.

He wasn’t discouraged. In fact, he wore a massive smile. If he could open the wall for a second or two with only rank-one abilities, how would things go if he spent a few Improvent Points? Andy opened his status sheet; ti to find out.