“Regardless, that was quite the show of skill. Once you can learn to control your power, you will be able to bring yourself to a whole new level. You are just at the starting point, but you have a better head start than most in your situation.”

  “Really? To me it feels like I have had a couple minutes of clarity, but I am still unclear on how my power works. Overheal is powerful, but control over it seems to flow and wane depending on what state I am in. It feels inconsistent. I guess the next step I need to take personally is owning it and making the power fully mine. I am just not sure where to start.”

  “Ah, yes. Well, deviants do not really get any help from the Pantheon. Universal religions and groups hate us, so the odds are already stacked against us. We have no formal way to train these powers. Most of us introduce new structures into already constructed power systems, like your Overheal.”

  He furrowed his brow in thought. “What do you mean? Are you saying that Overheal is a new concept? Doesn’t every healer have to learn to control Overheal? As far as I know, that is normal. I have nothing to compare to. I spent the entirety of my tutorial by myself, other than you and some fanatical lunatics who think my existence needs to be ‘corrected’, whatever the heck that means. If they want to kill me, why don’t they just say it? You can always count on a fanatical nutjob to speak in terms that make his actions sound less offensive.”

  Rowan rolled with laughter, so hard he could not speak, tears rolling down his face. Finally, he got control of himself, smiling from ear to ear with clear amusement.

  “Well, you got me there. One thing is for sure; you are so new to everything that you really have no idea what is going on. And you are not wrong about the Order of the True Path. That organization has been around for as long as I have. It has changed hands and leadership quite a few times, but one thing always remains the same. Everyone involved worships a deity known as Axiom. Cute girl, nasty attitude.” Rowan shivered as he said it.

  “I have yet to have a positive run-in with her. We have been at each other’s throats for ages, but a fight with her always brings a smile to my face. Tough lass, that one. Fun to tussle with. We are getting off track though. Let us focus on you right now and why you are so different. I cannot reveal everything to you as I’ve said before. That would hinder your path and potentially block your growth. What I can tell you are basic things that anyone in the universe would know, unless you are a fresh pup from a new world.”

  “Okay, I am listening, oh wise teacher. Show me the error of my ways. So far, all I have learned is that the Order is run by some psycho deity.”

  Rowan snapped his fingers and, once again, a whiteboard-like construct appeared in the air to help him narrate his teachings. Hector also noticed that Rowan was now wearing a new set of clothes. Khakis and a black shirt that read, “This Is Probably Fine.” Naturally, this inspired great confidence and trust in his friend turned mentor.

  “What is that?” Hector asked.

  “What? Have you never seen proper teaching attire? One must always be dressed for the job at hand.”

  Hector snorted, but Rowan pulled a mug out of nowhere, took a quick swig, and then disappeared again.

  “Drinking on the job, eh? You are definitely the perfect role model for the future generation of young system inductees. Bravo.”

  Rowan stared at Hector with a mute expression before continuing.

  “I am just going to ignore that and proceed, my young budding student. There are two things you need to understand from today’s lesson. Lesson one. Overheal.”

  Rowan took a slow drink before speaking.

  “Overheal is barely discussed among healers, because for almost everyone, it does not exist as a real problem. You are the exception in this case.”

  Hector frowned slightly. “What do you mean?”

  “For standard healing, once a body reaches full health, further healing does nothing. The mana still flows. The healing still resolves, but the body refuses to respond. Cells stop accepting instructions; tissue stops changing. The healing energy passes through and dissipates. The system records it as healing, but all the excess just dissipates. That is why Overheal is considered inefficiency, not danger. A healer wastes mana. Nothing more. Naturally, your case is different. When you heal, the excess mana doesn’t dissipate. You do not rely on the natural cutoff point implemented by the Pantheon. Your healing does not stop simply because balance has been restored. You apply intent directly to biological processes. Once everything is back to 100% though, your mana still affects your patient. For you, healing does not resolve at one hundred percent, it continues.”

  Rowan’s fingers traced a slow circle on the table.

  “When that happens, cells replicate beyond safe thresholds. Muscle fibers tighten faster than connective tissue can adapt. Blood vessels expand until pressure exceeds structural tolerance. Essentially, you are causing the body to fail on a cellular level. Mana is part of it, but the remaining part I imagine is that you simply overload the cells till they explode.”

  Hector looked down at his hands.

  “So when I hit someone with healing…”

  “You are not buffing them, you are not strengthening them. You are making their body beyond its limits. When it can’t keep up...you get lovely green light filled gore you’ve become accustomed to. And that applies to anyone, enemy, ally, yourself. Other healers cannot do this. Their mana still flows, but the body refuses it. Yours magic does the opposite of that.”

  He paused.

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  “That is why this is dangerous.”

  Rowan leaned back.

  “It is not that healing is lethal. It is that your healing does not stop when it hits the natural cutoff. It continues and causes the damage you have already seen and felt.”

  Hector exhaled slowly.

  “So if I lose control…”

  “You do not accidentally waste mana. You accidentally force growth where it cannot be supported. That is why you need training in control first. Not power or output.”

  He gestured toward Hector’s chest.

  “Because your healing will obey your intent, whether you want it to or not. You have only healed yourself so far, but when the time comes that you heal others, control will be mandatory. Unless, of course, you intend to hurt someone. But who am I to judge?”

  Hector sat there, realizing just how much of an outlier he truly was.

  “So, what makes me special? I have not seen a skill, trait, or anything that explains this. Why is this my power? That does not really make sense to me. Unless deviation implies something else, I am not aware of.”

  “See, that is where lesson two comes into play.”

  With a flick of his hand, the whiteboard cleared again, replaced by a crude stick-figure baby.

  “…Where did you learn your drawing skills from, sensei?” Hector asked flatly.

  Rowan did not look up.

  “Alcohol, frustration, and a healthy dose of spite.”

  “Okay. So, what am I looking at exactly?”

  A pointing device appeared out of nowhere as Rowan began his lecture.

  “All of us are born, right? Whether through normal human means or something far stranger. The universe is full of mysteries, but that particular rabbit hole requires a different drink. Anyways, what do you think happens when you are born?”

  “Uh, I'm not really sure. I cannot say I remember it all that much. Does anyone?”

  Rowan let out a low hum, somewhere between amusement and patience.

  “No. Nobody remembers it. That is kind of the point.”

  He tapped the whiteboard beside the stick figure.

  “When a creature is conceived, before the system ever notices it, before mana is categorized, before alignment is assigned, something else happens first.”

  The stick figure flickered as a faint outline formed inside it.

  “The soul takes shape. This part has nothing to do with levels, skills, or cores. Those come later. This is more fundamental than all of that.”

  He drew a small, uneven shape inside the figure’s chest.

  “Most souls are plain, clean and flexible. They take on structure later, molded by the system, environment, culture, or whatever power claims them first. That is normal. That is safe.”

  The mark inside the figure brightened.

  “But sometimes, something happens at formation, a mutation. A deviation in how the soul anchors itself to reality. Call it chance. Call it interference. Hell, it could be the universe getting curious, but the results are always the same.”

  He tapped the mark again.

  “A Brand.”

  Hector frowned. “A brand? So, I’m just universal livestock or something?”

  “No, think of it as a rule. A Brand is not learned. It is not given. It cannot be trained, transferred, stolen, or removed. It is not a skill. It is not an alignment. It is the way your existence interacts with power.”

  The stick figure shifted, faint lines extending outward from the mark.

  “Most people interact with mana through the Pantheon. The system mediates, filters, and resolves outcomes. That keeps things predictable. Brands do not go through that filter.”

  Hector frowned. “So, what do they do?”

  Rowan’s mouth twitched.

  “They open paths. Paths the system did not approve, test, or account for. Energy behaves differently around them. Cause and effect does not always line up cleanly. Outcomes persist when they should resolve. Limits bend when they should stop. That is why the system flags them.”

  A small warning symbol appeared next to the figure.

  “Most living things never develops a true Brand. Those that do usually have minor ones. Things the system can tolerate.”

  His tone shifted.

  “And then there are the others. True Brands. Stable ones. They are rare. They do not just grant power. They grant freedom and the ability to grasp it. They decide how power behaves once invoked. That is why deviants exist. Not because they break rules like an ill-mannered child, but because they operate under rules the system does not own.”

  Hector leaned back slowly.

  “So the system hates them?”

  Rowan snorted.

  “No. The system fears uncertainty. A Brand represents a path the universe can take that has no precedent or known safeguards.”

  He looked directly at Hector.

  “And that makes it dangerous...”

  Silence stretched.

  “And because Brands are inherent, they cannot be fixed.”

  He gestured toward the stick figure one last time.

  “You are born with it, or you are not. You grow into it, or you die resisting it.”

  The board faded as Rowan exhaled. “That is why deviants get hunted. Not because they are evil, but because the universe does not like surprises.”

  He leaned back in his chair, eyeing Hector.

  “Any more questions before you say something that gets you executed in three different jurisdictions?”

  “I have more questions than I know what to do with, but the big one is this. I have not seen anything about Brands anywhere since this whole thing started. This is the first time I am hearing about them.”

  “Yes. The Pantheon hides the knowledge deliberately. You either discover them organically, or an outside source helps reveal them. Brands are unique to each person, and there is no way to earn one. But once you are aware of them, they become easier to unveil, and once unveiled, they can evolve. They do not have levels. They behave more like traits. They grow as the Core grows. Most deviants have two or three. Sometimes it is complementary, sometimes not. The first one is a freebie, you may not necessarily know you have it, but the power still activates. Any remaining Brands are unlocked through more...unconventional methods.”

  He smiled faintly.

  “I have three? Let me try to wrap my head around this. So, I have some hidden power that is probably causing this. I cannot access it, but based on how Overheal normally works, it is definitely there. It’s just not been revealed yet. That feels like a pretty lousy move by the system.”

  “Well, the system doesn’t bar deviants, but it certainly does not help them. If it can keep you blind to your deviation, maybe you will walk the path it wants. Think of it as manipulation. That is the prevailing theory, at least. Last I checked, but that was eons ago.”

  Rowan stared off to the side for a moment, old memories stirring. Hector noticed, but he had too many questions to let the silence linger. Memories of his fight with Alric and the other Order members surfaced. He would have to return to the tutorial eventually. He knew what waited for him now, at least in part. He needed more control, more understanding, and more preparation.

  Thoughts drifted back to his first year as a forestry firefighter. Training, hard lessons and stupid mistakes he did not even realize were mistakes at the time. On a smaller scale, it felt the same. Only now, instead of saving people, he was fighting to survive.

  One thing was certain. He had no intention of falling. And if he did, he would not go down quietly.

  “So, is there any way to unlock what Brands I might have? You are a Paragon. A deviant at the pinnacle. Surely you know a way.”

  Rowan rubbed his hands together, a familiar glint of trouble in his eyes.

  “Oh, there is always a path forward, with the right mix, you can loosen more than just the mind.”

  Hector’s eyes flicked to the bottle Rowan placed on the table. Dark glass with strange light playing within.

  “That is not a skill,” Rowan added casually.

  Hector looked up. “Then what is it?”

  Rowan smiled.

  “One of my Brand brews.”

  Hector froze. “…One of?”

  Rowan laughed, already turning away.

  “So, Hector my friend, what we do next depends on you.”