Limping through the forest, he found a hollow and made camp for the night. The tree's hollow felt nostalgic, reminding him of his first nights in Eden. It was not that long ago but felt like a distant path all at once.

  Before setting up camp he got to work on himself. Pulling out the wraps he had made, he began the process of tending to his arm. Which was not easy to do one-handed. It took several attempts, but the task was finally done. Ideas of self-applying bandages filled his brain as that would really help out in situations like this. Before healing though he needed to regain some mana, healing during the previous fight had been crude, leaving him wounded further due to the stress of the situation.

  Checking his mana, he was sitting around 10%. If needed, the wrap should provide stabilization in a pinch, but he wanted to do this right. Sitting down cross legged, he began to meditate. He hadn’t quite figured out how regeneration worked yet, so he had to stop and check his mana several times. After an hour or so, he was hovering around 45%. He deemed that enough to properly heal.

  Focusing on the wraps, he activated Emergency Heal. Healing quickly spread through the limb. The item provided a solid foundation, almost like a cast, guiding the spell in a gentle and efficient manner. Mild pain radiated from his bone where it had snapped, but a few moments later it popped back into place and the bone was once again whole. He rotated the arm, seeing how it felt. It felt normal, a little tender but usable. Now that he was healed up, he got the rest of the camp set up for the night.

  Hector sat in silence, hands resting loosely on his knees, eyes unfocused as the faint glow of the fire light reflected off the wooden walls of the hollow.

  He let his breath slow and allowed his thoughts to drift backward.

  First came the car crash that had almost killed him. Life was quickly leaving his body before the Pantheon activated and snatched him away. Next came the tutorial, Eden. This place that had nearly killed him within minutes of arrival. He remembered the panic of that first fight, the way his healing had spiraled out of control, how close he had come to tearing his own arm apart simply by trying to stay alive.

  When he chose his class, he figured healing was a safe choice, who didn’t want free, magically induced medical aid. That belief had not survived long.

  The tutorial had taught him a simple truth early on. Healing was not gentle, at least his wasn’t, who is to say other healers didn’t have an easier time, or maybe he just wasn’t very good at it. When he was able to guide his skills carefully, it restored wounds. When pushed too hard, stuff broke, of course this has also turned into another way to survive.

  He still wasn't sure what Overheal was either, maybe it was magical backlash, but from his observation other ideas formed. Experiencing the sensation himself and seeing it on his foes, his gut told him it was a biological process. Healing energy forced into living structures faster than it could adapt. He had seen the pattern repeat often enough now to recognize it. Small creatures ruptured quickly. Larger ones resisted longer. Dense muscle and reinforced bone delayed failure, but they never prevented it. There was always a threshold, a saturation point. Once crossed, the body did not heal; it failed.

  His own body had not been immune. Every lesion, every internal tear, every moment where his muscles locked or his hands shattered had been the same lesson repeating itself. His structure could not keep up with the rate of change he demanded, yet.

  The crafting dungeon had driven that lesson deeper than any fight ever had.

  There had been no monsters to punch there. No desperate charges or last-second recoveries. Just repetition, precision, and control. Failure measured in warped materials and shattered components instead of blood.

  Healing an object was not the same as healing flesh, but the principles overlapped enough to be comfortable. Too much power caused brittleness, too little caused instability. The difference between reinforcement and fracture came down to timing and flow, not intent.

  He had broken more than he had crafted at first; that had been humbling. The dungeon had forced him to slow down, to stop relying on instinct alone. It had made him think about how his energy moved, not just how much of it he could produce. It had shown him that healing could be shaped and anchored.

  He opened his eyes and flexed his fingers slowly, feeling the dense strength beneath his skin. The changes were subtle now, layered and permanent rather than explosive. Adaptive Conditioning had done its work, but it had only succeeded because he had stopped fighting his own limits. The tutorial had made him stronger.

  Hector exhaled slowly. Several questions still raced through his mind. Deviation had popped up constantly throughout his journey, still no clue what that was. Then there was his core; he really wasn’t sure when he would start getting answers, all he could do for now was survive.

  Whatever a deviant was though he figured he definitely was one. He was a healer who treated healing as a weapon was already walking sideways across the system’s expectations. A Field Medic who learned to reinforce himself before repairing others was not following a clean path, but it was a survivable one.

  He rose to his feet, rolling his shoulders as the quiet weight of readiness settled over him. Whatever waited beyond the tutorial, it would not be kinder. Suddenly his vision filled with the all too familiar sight of his favorite system.

  [Tutorial Phase Transition Detected.]

  [Tutorial Phase 3 Initiated.]

  Time Remaining: 20 Days

  Environment Difficulty: Increased

  Survival Calibration: Removed

  [New Tutorial Condition: External Participation Authorized.]

  Participants from the greater Pantheon System may now enter Eden.

  Entry is limited.

  Entry is incentivized.

  [Incentive Notice.]

  Rewards will be issued for confirmed eliminations, recovered artifacts, and enforced compliance.

  [Warning.]

  Phase 3 includes intelligent hostile actors.

  These entities possess:

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  ? Structured builds

  ? Team coordination

  ? System sanctioned tools

  ? Reward driven behavior

  [Deviant Flag Detected.]

  User: Hector Renegade

  Classification: Deviant

  Deviation Status: Confirmed

  [Advisory.]

  The Pantheon allows freedom.

  Freedom is not safety.

  Freedom is not certainty.

  Stable paths produce repeatable outcomes.

  Unbounded paths produce outcomes that cannot be reliably predicted, rewarded, or replicated.

  [Hostile Order Identified: The Order of the True Path.]

  Doctrine Summary:

  Deviants are contamination.

  Deviation is collapse.

  Mercy is complicity.

  Pantheon Note:

  They are not here to hunt beasts.

  They are here to harvest certainty.

  [Tutorial Lockdowns Reduced.]

  [Identity Fields Expanding.]

  [Stat Sheet Update: In Progress.]

  [Race Visibility: Unlocked.]

  Hector Renegade

  Race: Human (F)

  There were so many things to unpack after that message he did not even know where to begin. A chill spread down his spine.

  “The Order of the True Path? Race? I mean I knew I was human, seeing as it has a grade I guess I may be able to upgrade it?”

  He focused on the word hostile actors, that sounded dangerous, and as usual there wasn’t much information to go off of. More enemies had just entered the battlefield, and it sounded like they came because of his deviation status. Was deviation something bad? It didn’t seem like it, whatever it was he had survived so far.

  “I do not think I like the sound of this. Sounds like things are about to change drastically around here...”

  Silently, he stared at the notification, re-reading it several times. With a deep breath he steeled his resolve.

  “This system will not break me, and neither will this Order of the whatever. If they see me as a threat, I will make sure to be the biggest threat they ever met.”

  His eyes were growing heavy. The dungeon's crafting had left him mentally tired, and the battle earlier left him exhausted. He realized it had been a hot minute since he reviewed his stat sheet. From the sounds of it, fighting would intensify soon. It would not be a bad idea to review his full kit before getting some rest.

  [Stat Sheet.]

  Name: Hector Renegade

  Core: Mortal Core

  State: Altered

  Aspect: Unidentified

  Level: 35

  Race: Human (F)

  Class: Field Medic

  Stats:

  Strength: 30

  Agility: 35

  Endurance: 49

  Vitality: 30

  Intellect: 53

  Spirit: 53

  Perception: 40

  Unassigned Stat Points: 3

  Health: 375 / 375

  Mana: 758 / 758

  Health regeneration: 3 per minute

  Mana regeneration: 7.95 per minute

  Skills:

  Emergency Heal (F) — Level 45

  Pain Suppression (F) — Level 35

  Combat Assessment (F) — Level 32

  Adaptive Conditioning (F) — Level 50

  Vital Focus (F) — Level 25

  Hand of Triage (F) — Level 47

  Vital Conduction (F) — Level 12

  Life Mantle (F) — Level 15

  Analyze (F) — Level 30

  Inventory (F) — Level 1

  Crafting Skills:

  Weaver of Living Threads (F) — Level 25

  Living Weave (F) — Level 23

  Thread Sense (F) — Level 15

  Adaptive Stitching (F) — Level 31

  Equipment:

  Mantle of the Living Bastion (F)

  Threadbound Ring (F)

  Living Bastion Bracelets (F) x2

  Reinforced Hand Wraps (F)

  Kinetic Leg Wraps (F)

  Living Weaver Shirt (F)

  Living Weaver Pants (F)

  Living Weaver Shoes (F)

  Titles:

  Porcine Devastator

  +1 percent damage against porcinetype creatures

  Strength +2

  Vitality +2

  System Deviant

  Enables skill and core deviation

  Reduces penalties for off path abilities

  Living Bastion

  Increased effectiveness of defensive and healing-based skills

  Environmental damage mitigation is improved

  Healing auras and sustained effects gain increased stability

  Loomwalker

  +10 Perception

  Enhances efficiency for Weaver of the Living Threads

  Resourceful Deviant

  +5 Intellect

  +5 Agility

  Dungeon Completionist

  Keeps track of completed dungeons

  With a smile and a quick thought, he dumped the 3 free stat points into vitality. He felt the rush of energy as he watched his health rise.

  “More health never hurt anyone.”

  413 was not a big jump up from 375, but anything would help at this point, he figured. He stared at the sheet one more time, seeing it update after the stat allotment. With a content huff, he curled up into his favorite Wampus Pelt and let sleep take him.

  Tomorrow, the Order would begin its hunt, and Hector would have to prove why a deviant like him could survive.

  --------------

  Far from Hector’s hollow, the forest bent inward as reality split along a clean, deliberate seam. A stabilized gateway formed; its edges traced with layered sigils that hummed quietly as system permissions resolved. The forest floor beneath it darkened, pressed flat by the weight of authority entering Eden.

  Order boots struck soil in a disciplined sequence. Five figures emerged first, armor dull and functional; weapons already in hand. They spread outward without a word, forming a loose perimeter as they scanned the tree line. A mage followed; staff planted firmly as his eyes glowed faintly, runes orbiting his pupils while he read the air.

  Alric stepped through last. He paused, letting the gateway seal behind him before lowering himself to one knee. His gauntleted hand pressed into the soil. The ground responded, faint geometric lines spreading outward before fading back into nothing.

  “Tracking anchor established, deviation signature confirmed.” The mage said.

  Alric rose slowly. “Distance?”

  “Several kilometers. Recent combat markers. Heavy healing-aligned residue.”

  Another Order member spoke. “He is moving carefully. Signs of injury but controlled.”

  Alric’s expression did not change. He reached for his sword, drawing it just enough for the system-bound edge to hum.

  Alric shouted orders, “Form hunting pairs, and maintain pressure, no isolated engagements. If he runs, let him. Fatigue will finish what blades do not.”

  The team moved immediately, splitting into coordinated paths without hesitation. Alric remained still for a moment longer, eyes lifting toward the forest canopy.

  “A deviant healer,” he murmured.

  His grip tightened.

  “Exactly the kind that cannot be allowed to mature.”

  With a final glance at the disturbed soil, Alric turned and followed his unit into the trees. Behind them, Eden remained quiet. Ahead of them, the hunt had already begun.