I was doing my best to not drown in a truly terrible amount of notifications.
[SYSTEM NOTICE]
Bond Progress with Nyssa: +6%
Current sync level: 21%
[Recommended Action: Initiate shared task or emotional exchange to deepen bond.]
I know!
dammit! Shut up!
[SYSTEM NOTICE]
[Nearby females detected.]
Scanning for affinities.
.shut-
[SYSTEM REMINDER]
"Prolonged inactivity may slow Sync progression."
Right. Gods forbid more than a minute pass by without me whispering sweet nothing into Nyssa's glorious scowl.
I waved the notifications, only for more to replace its absence.
[SYSTEM NOTICE]
You have reached the half-way point of the tutorial.
[SYSTEM TIP]
Silence can be an invitation. Or a warning. Proceed accordingly.
"Very hepful" I muttered. "Why don't you come flirt with her then"
No answer. Typical.
I rolled over on the cot and stared at the ceiling. The old wooden beams creaked with every gust of wind rattling the window. I was sore, my clothes still smelled vaguely like forest rot, and I was about two degrees away from either falling asleep or making a terrible decision.
And Nyssa? She had gone downstairs after a small while. Brooding. Or plotting. Possibly sharpening a knife just for me. It was always hard to tell.
But there was something new in the way she'd looked at me earlier. Not quite soft—but definitely less murdery. That had to count for something.
I sat up and stretched, the cot groaning in protest.
Fine.
Let's see if i could push the sync more before she decided i was insufferable again.
I dusted off my overly tight shirt and made my way downstairs—making a mental note to buy some clothes before night fell.
The tavern had the same tired hush as when we arrived.Locals muttering into mugs. A fireplace that had more smoke than flame.
And obviously Nyssa.
She was seated at a corner table, one boot hooked casually on a rung of the chair, her body tilted just enough to see the whole room without being obvious about it.
She looked up as I approached. No eye roll. No glare.
Promising.
"Miss me?" I said, slipping into the seat across from her.
"You were gone for two minutes."
"Longest two minutes of your life, I bet."
She didn't smile. But the corner of her mouth twitched like it considered it.
"Order something," she said. "We're not leaving tonight."
I raised a brow. "That an invitation to dinner?"
Nyssa didn't dignify that with an answer.
I flagged down the barkeep, who looked like he'd rather be shoveling pigshit than serving patrons. Still, he grunted, wiped his hands on his apron, and made his way over.
"One plate of whatever's hot," I said. "And an ale."
"Two ales," Nyssa added, eyes still on me.
I blinked. "Oh? Drinking tonight?"
"Thinking," she corrected. "The ale just helps."
We sat in silence while the food came—if you could call it that. Some kind of stew. Beige and lumpy, with more root than meat, and a heel of stale bread on the side. But it was warm, and it didn't smell like moss, so I counted it as a win.
I took a bite, chewed, and immediately regretted it. "This tastes like regret."
Nyssa sipped her ale. "Then it's perfect for you."
I choked on a laugh and leaned back in the chair. "You wound me."
"If I wanted to wound you, Jack, I wouldn't need to speak."
A pause. Her voice had that edge of dry warning again, but it lacked the venom it usually carried. She was… relaxed. In her way.
I glanced at her over the rim of my mug. "So. What are you thinking about?"
She stared into her ale like it held secrets. "Whether this place is worth staying in. Whether the next town will have anything better. Whether you'll survive another day without pissing off someone important."
"Well, two out of three's not bad."
She rolled her eyes—but slowly. Like she was tired of fighting the smirk trying to sneak onto her face.
A quiet settled between us—not awkward, not heavy. Just… there.
I found myself studying the line of her jaw, the way the light from the fire flickered across her cheekbones. She was always so tense, so wired for flight or blood. But here, now, she looked a little softer. Not weak. Never that. Just… human.
She must've caught me staring, because she shifted slightly and said, "What?"
"Nothing. Just thinking."
"Dangerous habit."
"You do it."
"I have practice."
[SYSTEM NOTICE]
Bond Progress with Nyssa: +3%
Current Sync Level: 24%
Subtle rapport detected.
Emotional comfort increasing.
Suggested Action: Maintain light emotional probing.
I pushed the message away before it got smug.
"So," I said casually, "you ever think about what you'd do if you weren't constantly on the run from curses, monsters, or mysterious past mistakes?"
She tilted her head, eyes narrowing. "Is this your version of small talk?"
"Trying to be charming."
"You're overshooting and undershooting at the same time."
"Just answer the question."
Nyssa was quiet for a long moment. Then, softly: "I don't think that far ahead."
The way she said it—flat, practiced—it wasn't a dodge. It was armor.
"Fair," I said. "But if you ever change your mind, I make a mean scrambled egg. Could probably teach you."
"I know how to cook."
"Oh, good. Then we won't starve while being hunted."
She smiled. Just a little. Just for a second.
And I swear, I felt it.
Not just in the chest, but in the air around us. Something pulled a little tighter, like a knot slowly cinching closed.
[SYSTEM NOTICE]
Bond Progress with Nyssa: +2%
Trait Evolution Unlocked: Ambient Read
Gain increased perception of subtle emotional cues during dialogue.
Note: Trait effectiveness scales with proximity.
I let out a slow breath and nudged the last bit of bread toward her side of the table. "Here. You need it more than I do."
She raised an eyebrow. "Pity?"
"Bribery."
She took it.
Didn't thank me, of course. But she didn't throw it back either.
Progress.