At 6:00 AM sharp, the alarms in Phin's bedroom capsule go off.
Harsh and blaring, the siren reverberates throughout the enclosed space, shaking the furniture with its sheer intensity. What the... actual hell?! Shaken awake, Phin smothers himself under the pillow, but it did little to muffle the screeching alarm.
Half-asleep and deeply irritated, Phin does the first thing that came to mind: 'STOP!' he yells, as if the alarm could hear him. Miraculously, the oppressing blaring ceased. Phin lies groaning in the silence, curling up into a ball. The orange hue of dawn seeps in through the skylight, painting the room in warm colors. Well... it's the beginning of a big day. I'd better -
Without warning, the alarm resumes blasting, nearly giving the poor Appraiser whiplash. 'Ah, hell nah! Stop! STOP!!' he desperately screams, thrashing in the velvety sheets. Faced with no other choice, Phin leaps into the air and bursts out of the door, collapsing onto the Arboretum platform's cold steel surface. Hunched over the ledge, he wants to puke - but out of consideration for the noble Botanists and scientists below, he forces himself not to. What is wrong with these people... he wonders miserably.
'Oh, good morning, Phin!' a cheerful voice calls from behind. Amara saunters up the spiraling path, carrying a laptop and a binder stuffed with files. 'It's nice to see you up already; even I'm not accustomed to waking up at this time.'
'Yeah... I'm quite awake, thanks to this hellish alarm system,' Phin mutters, massaging his temple. Grimacing, he follows Amara towards the adjacent platform where the training facility lies.
***
'Is he always like this?' a bald man asks, glancing towards Amara. He straightens his lab coat impatiently as he skims a stack of documents.
She suppresses a laugh. 'Yeah... even in middle school, it was impossible to drag him away from the library.'
'Such a fondness for academia is respectable,' cuts in a third voice - a young man of around twenty, with his brown hair slicked back. 'Though, the choice of attire is... quite peculiar.'
In the far corner of the examination room, still clad in his government-issued sleepwear, Phin browses the shelves in awe. 'Advanced Morph Theory... fascinating! Truly a masterpiece - this edition even goes into the Mecciol Paradox of Fallibilism!' he rambles, eyes aglow.
The bald scientist clears his throat, loud and purposeful, finally snapping Phin out of his trance.
He jolts, nearly dropping the book in his hand. 'Ah - sorry. It's a habit,' he apologizes sheepishly, reaching up to fix his glasses - only to freeze. He blinks in confusion as his fingers pass through thin air, right in front of his eyes.
My glasses - I must have left them in the capsule! He squints experimentally, scanning the room. But I can still see...?
Stunned, he reads the bald scientist's name tag, printed in small letters across his coat: Bernard Bouttens. Then: Maximus Eryllios. And of course: Amara Clannon.
'So, are you ready to begin now?' Bouttens interrupts, folding his hands.
'Yeah. Sorry about that again; I just got sidetracked,' Phin replies, settling into his seat. My eyes are a mystery for later, he decides. The three scientists sit across from him at a sleek marble table, where neatly arranged documents rest in organized stacks.
'Let us begin with introductions. You may refer to me as Dr. Bouttens. I am the Director of Genomics of the Regal Scientific Department. I have brought two of my junior associates to assist me - Mr. Eryllios and Ms. Clannon,' Bouttens states, gesturing to his left and right.
Phin exchanges a warm smile with Amara and offers a casual wave to Eryllios.
'It is a pleasure to meet you. I have heard great tales of your intellectual feats, Appraiser Phin,' the young man declares. 'In honor of your esteemed intellect, you may call me Max.'
'Nice to meet you too, Max. I take it you and Amara - er, Ms. Clannon - are colleagues?' Phin asks, shaking hands across the table.
'Indeed. Few in our subdivision rival our cognitive aptitude - hence why Dr. Bouttens selected us.'
Phin shoots a brief glance at Amara.
'...'
She smirks discreetly before clearing her throat. 'Shall I present the subject with the first artifact?' she asks, turning to Bouttens.
Upon the director's affirmation, Amara reaches into her breast pocket and produces a Seed.
Huh... it's very bland, Phin notes as she places it before him.
'What is it?' Bouttens asks, eyes fixed on Phin.
He barely glances at it. 'Verdantis humillima, commonly known as Sporoweed. Roughly 5% negative stat potential, referring to its photosensitive luminescence.'
Bouttens clicks his tongue, dissatisfied, whilst Amara and Max look impressed. 'Search deeper.'
'You mean Genetic Appraisal? I can't do that yet,' Phin replies.
'Try. Focus on its essence.'
Phin sighs, settling his gaze on the Seed. Focus on its essence...
The Seed's mundane brown shell offers nothing new. Phin stares harder, waiting for something to change, but it is just the same data looping in his mind: Verdantis humillima. 5% negative. Verdantis humillima...
After a few minutes, he exhales sharply and leans back. 'I can't do it. The most I can do is deduce its species and estimate its stat potential.'
A heavy pause hangs over the examination room as the scientists exchange glances.
'Hold on - your method of Appraisal is by pattern-matching the Seed's markings to encyclopedia entries, right?' Amara asks. 'With slight variations denoting predictable stat trends?'
'Yeah. All Appraisers must memorize the full index,' Phin answers, visibly disheartened.
Amara nods, caressing her chin. 'I think that's the problem. You need to shift the paradigm. Redefine your knowledge.'
'What?' Phin smiles nervously, puzzled.
Amara leans in. 'You're relying on rote memorization. Paired with your natural intellect, it's effective, but it limits your growth. Try to deactivate that portion of your brain - the static pattern-matching.'
'Then how do I think? My memory is my power.'
Max raises an eyebrow. 'For someone so gifted, you're quite rigid. Instead of referring to the past, try building up new knowledge from zero.'
How is that even possible? Phin thinks. Before the encyclopedia, scientists used advanced tools I don't have. Nevertheless, he nods. 'Alright... but don't expect anything special.'
Shift the paradigm. As soon as his eyes meet the Seed, its encyclopedia entry floods his mind - automatic, almost involuntary. Shit! How do I...? He squeezes his eyes shut. Amara's advice resonates in his head. Deactivate that portion of my brain... but how?
He takes several deep breaths, slowing everything down. Then it clicks.
I am nothingness. My knowledge is nothingness, for I exist in a new paradigm.
Suddenly, the Sporoweed Seed begins to shimmer. Its runes burst to life, engulfing it in a piercing blue light. From these runes, ethereal threads begin to materialize, snaking upward in a slow, mesmerizing dance. Each thread carries a seemingly infinite sequence of glyphs, and together they weave an obfuscated tapestry of arcane symbols.
That's it's genetic coding! Phin's eyes dart between individual strands, trying to decipher the glyphs. Grids... these ones remind me of union notation. Several bullseye glyphs too. If I can deduce a decryption algorithm f-
Suddenly, his eyes roll back. Phin slumps backward, limp, blood pouring out of his ears.
'Phin!' Amara worriedly shouts, running to his side.
'Has he overexerted himself? Even the finest minds have limits,' Max says, frowning.
Bouttens shakes his head firmly, watching in silence as Amara tends to the unconscious Phin. 'If anything, this is only the nascence of his power. Clean up for today - Ms. Clannon, bring him to the infirmary. We shall resume tomorrow.'
Wh... what am I seeing?
[Sporoweed: Verdantis humillima]
| → Potential: (-) 4.18%
| → Encoding: ⊬◌⊏º⊐⊙◩⌂ ⊘⊎◓◓⊞⊎⊎
| → Greed Skill: [???]
| → Greed Mastery: [N/A]