The Allbright System - A Sci-Fi Progression LitRPG Story

- POV: Johnsen -

Eternity.

That was the only term that came close to capturing what Johnsen felt as he found himself locked in the gaze of the Cyan before him. The girl's eyes, self-illuminated and otherworldly, seemed to open a chasm of the Void itself within his mind, momentarily paralysing him with its overwhelmingly infinite expanse.

Requiring a sheer effort of will, he finally managed to avert his gaze, a shiver involuntarily coursing through him—no doubt the unsettling aftereffect of meeting the Cyan's eyes.

Though he'd heard countless stories of Cyans, this was his first time encountering one in person. He had initially dismissed the tales as exaggerated, especially considering the girl's beaten and dishevelled appearance, making her appear almost pitiful. But after locking eyes with her—those harrowing, endless eyes—he understood the foundation of the myths that shrouded her kind.

Something was inherently unnatural about Cyans.

Something deeply disturbing hidden within the depths of their eyes…

Before he could delve any further into these thoughts however, the girl before him interrupted, snapping his focus back to the present.

"I swear, I won't overdraw my Focus again on this mission," Thea stated, her voice tinged with a determination that caught Johnsen off guard.

He'd been prepared for her to agree—grunts usually did, whenever a Medic told them to do something—but her fervour seemed slightly mismatched to the gravity of his request.

'I guess that’s the best I’m gonna get…' he mused, battling internal frustration before finally exhaling a resigned sigh.

"Very well, Private. I'll lend you some of my Focus to top you up for the mission."

Bending over her, as she was still laying on her back from the previous examination, he placed his palms firmly on her shoulders and initiated his Ability.

"Listen to me, don't fuck this up. I mean it," he warned, his eyes locking onto hers one final time before uttering the mental command for his Ability to activate.

‘Focus Link.’

Immediately he felt the familiar sensation of something far more profound than a mere physical shift; it was as though a vital part of his very essence was being syphoned away. This feeling, akin to a cold, spectral liquid coursing through his veins, radiated from his hands down through his arms and spine, permeating his entire being. Each pulse seemed to sap not just his energy, but a fragment of his very being as well.

It was a deeply unsettling, alien sensation—like willingly fragmenting one's spirit to fill another vessel. The experience felt not just unnatural, but downright sacrilegious, as though he was meddling in a domain where mortal men were not meant to tread.

Yet his face remained a stoic mask, showing none of the existential discomfort he felt.

He was practised enough with this Ability to know that the discomfort was temporary, but each time he enacted the link, he couldn't shake off the ethereal eeriness of it—the uncanny feeling that he was sharing more than mere energy; that in some unspoken, intangible way, he was exposing the most vulnerable parts of himself to another being. And all the while, that cold, liquid sensation continued to flow through him, like a river carrying away pieces of his inner self, until finally, he felt that Thea had gained enough Focus from the transfer.

Releasing his hands from Thea's shoulders with a sheer effort of will, Johnsen abruptly severed the mystical link between them. Despite his seasoned composure, a shiver involuntarily rippled through him. This phase—breaking the connection—always felt like teetering on a precipice, a dangerous moment where inattention could lead to a disastrous fall.

The cautionary tales from his mentors echoed in his mind; stories of medics who, lost in the surreal sensations of [Focus Link], had overdrafted their own reserves.

They were cautionary tales for a reason; many had perished due to that same error, consumed by their own overextended Focus or, at the very least, incapacitated at crucial moments.

The [Focus Link] Ability was a double-edged sword, as perilous as it was potent. Johnsen had once required constant supervision when employing it, another set of hands ready to snap him out of the trance should he lose himself. Though he had moved beyond needing such oversight, the "what if" always gnawed at the back of his mind every time he initiated the link.

Snapped out of his introspective reverie by Thea's animated tone, he heard her exclaim, "Wow, that felt...strange. But really awesome! Thanks a lot, doc!"

With a slight shudder, Johnsen tried to shake off the residual feeling of the cold, otherworldly substance that had flowed through his veins during the transfer. "Don't forget your promise," he responded, his tone tinged with a touch of weariness.

As Thea began to rise, energised by the newfound Focus, he placed a firm hand on her shoulders, pushing her back down. "Hold on, where do you think you're going? You're not cleared for duty yet."

Her eyes widened in realisation. "Oh, right, sorry! I felt so good, I totally forgot about the whole check-up thing."

His brow furrowed in confusion. ‘Forgot about the check-up? Just what is going on with this girl? Even if Venn needs her skills, I can’t possibly clear her for action in this state… Can I?' Suppressing a deeper sigh, wrought forth from the depths of his core due to the hassle of his role, he said, "Look, Private, during the initial examination, I temporarily sealed your wound. I have to reopen it to remove that shrapnel. Stay still."

"Roger that, sir!" Thea's response came bright and eager, her smile a grotesque curve due to the misaligned skin on her face. "Go ahead. I can't feel much right now. Probably some strong painkillers my squad medic gave me or something."

His eyebrow involuntarily shot up beneath his visor. 'She doesn’t even know what her medic administered? Are they all utterly incompetent? Medics are supposed to brief their patients of the basics they administered to prevent accidental overdosing!' Agitated, he reached for his data-pad to pull up Thea's medical profile, only to pause in astonishment at the extensive, and unsettlingly detailed notes appended to it.

'What the...?'

Johnsen's eyes scanned through the medical notes with increasing incredulity. He had never seen such a meticulously detailed record. Each administered stimulant was not only listed in chronological order but also marked with the exact local time down to the second. Special symbols grouped stims that had been given in tandem, and a complex colour code system identified multiple uses of the same type of stimulant.

His eyes widened further as he delved into the procedural rundown.

Every action that had been taken was described with a precision that could rival a scientific, surgical textbook.

The depth of each cut into the skin was quantified to the millimetre, the realignment of bones was mapped out with articulation and even drawings to further elucidate the exact location and changes to them. Even the suturing was detailed with the type of stitch, the material of the suture, and the exact distance between each stitch.

He only briefly did a double-take when he simply read “System Hair” as the material, but then quickly remembered about the [Surgeon’s Toolkit] line of Abilities and continued onwards.

For a moment, he was rendered speechless. 'Who is this Karania? A squad medic or a fucking medical researcher?' he thought, bewildered. It wasn't just the level of detail; it was the fact that it had all been recorded in what must have been a chaotic and hazardous environment. A field medic with such commitment to precision was downright unheard of.

His previous questions about Thea’s mental state were also finally answered when he read one of the last entries on the list.