Jacob crossed his arms, leaning back as if inviting Jack to elaborate. Jack obliged, his voice taking on a thoughtful edge.

"In the other world, there are spiritual advancements -attunements, enhancements to your essence or soul, or whatever you want to call it. You grow in presence, in power. And then there are mental disciplines, like sharpening your mind or honing a psionic edge. Those things can equate to levels, in a way. But they're fluid, more… organic. And of course, there is the fundamental means of progression, the use of Prismata shards and cores."

"What are those?"

"The simplest explanation is that they are condensed energy. Whether from an object or a place of power, a creature or a god. They can form anywhere at any time in areas of high magical levels. Where mana, or aether, is the densest, they tend to be found." He paused thoughtfully as he looked out the window at the skyline below.

He hadn't been expecting to need this knowledge in his newly reclaimed life. After he returned, he thought it was over. That he was bound to trade in his old skill sets and learn some new ones. Give up his sword and shield for -he didn't know what.

But now with the dungeons appearing, and magic surging in the world…

"And through the killing of monsters and other creatures and beings of power, of course," he finished with a smile and a dismissive wave of his hand.

"Interesting," Jacob said, the mental gears visibly working through the information and how best he could leverage it. "What are they used for?"

"Pretty much everything. From unlocking classes and skills, to powering spells and summoning powerful allies. They can even be used for crafting." He thought of the deck in his cloak, and the cloak itself, hidden as it was by a fold in space.

"And these cores, they appear in dungeons?"

"Oh, yeah. Being one of the sources of the highest concentrations of energy, dungeons are like terrestrial mines for traditional earthly ores. In fact, there were some who made their fortunes and raised kingdoms and great cities solely on the prospect of mining a tamed dungeon."

A light ignited behind Jacob's eyes, and Jack knew he had roused his attention. He had seen that look time and again when traveling in the Otherworld. A whispered word into the right ear, and it was done. It wasn't greed, not really. Nor avarice. No, it was a wealthy merchant's hunger. That gleam in the eye that set their pulse to racing, just as much as a worthy fight would to a combat duelist, it was the Warrior's Call. Only, instead of defeating foes, empires were raised and felled by the passion of a skilled merchant. And Jacob was that and more. He may have used his Fae'Ri lineage to gain an advantage, but if you had such an edge, why wouldn't you use it?

Jack shook his head as he took another bite of a club sandwich wedge. He had to hand it to Jacob; the man could afford some great quality food. He waved the half-finished sandwich at him for emphasis. "Leveling, though? Leveling is mechanical. It's scientific. You work in gradients, in measurable steps. It's engineering, plain and simple."

Jacob tilted his head. "And you think that's better?"

Jack shrugged. "Not better. Just different. The Otherworld isn't backwards -far from it. They've got their own advancements, things you can't even imagine. Take Tinkertown, for example. That place is like steampunk on steroids. Everything runs on gears, steam, and raw ingenuity. Then there's the other, magitek regions -the people of Müpan, or Atlanteans, or whatever they choose to call themselves. Think, high magic fused with cutting-edge tech, like it was ripped out of Nikola Tesla's fever dream."

As he spoke, Jack's hands moved almost without conscious thought, fingers tracing patterns in the air as if mapping invisible structures. His voice took on a different quality -still casual, but with an undercurrent of the arcane.

Jacob's eyes tracked those gestures. Memorising them.

Jacob's interest piqued at the mention of magitek. "And you're saying that's… superior to this?" He gestured at the polished, industrialized world around them.

"Neither inferior nor superior," Jack corrected, "just focused on different priorities. Think about it. If Volta hadn't figured out how to harness electricity -hell, if Ben Franklin hadn't flown that kite- where would we be? The world wouldn't have stopped turning, but it would've turned differently. We'd have found another way, probably one that looks a lot like what you see in steampunk fiction."

He paused, letting the thought hang for a moment before continuing. "Now imagine a world where, instead of needing to invent light bulbs, engines, or circuit boards, you could snap your fingers and summon light. Power a vehicle with a thought. Build a machine that runs on the ambient, pervasive energy of the universe. Why would you bother developing ways to harness electricity when magic does the job just fine?"

Jacob frowned. His fingers drummed against the arm of the chair. "That… sounds lazy."

Jack barked a laugh. "You'd think so. But it's not about laziness. It's about necessity. If your problems have different solutions, you don't innovate the same way. And when you've got magic, you don't need science. At least, not the way Earth does."

He leaned forward, his expression growing serious. The sandwich partially forgotten, lettuce falling onto the mahogany. "But here's the kicker: magic does have rules, just like science. They're just harder to pin down. More flexible. That's why leveling and the HUD are so important. They give us structure, a way to navigate something that would otherwise be pure chaos. Earthlings? We thrive on structure. It's how we've survived without magic for so long."

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Jacob's gaze turned skeptical. His hand moved instinctively to his temple, where the faint blue outline of his own interface flickered. "You keep saying 'without magic.' Are you implying it's coming back?" Then he glanced at the HUD in front of him and sighed. "Of course it is."

"Bingo," Jack said before pausing, his smile fading into something more contemplative. The weight of years of trials pressed down on his shoulders -visible now in the way he carried himself. "Not only is it coming back. It's already here. The dungeons are proof of that. And the system you now have the pleasure of having."

"What does that mean, exactly?" Jacob pressed.

Jack sighed, running a hand through his hair. For a moment, he looked older. Tired in a way that went deeper than physical exhaustion. Like a warrior seasoned by decades of fighting. "From what I have been able to gather, both during my time in the Otherworld and my travels since returning, magic isn't exactly new to Earth. It used to be everywhere -filling the air, the land, the people. It wasn't scarce like platinum or gold; it was abundant. Valuable because of its power, not its rarity. It shaped the world, and let people shape the world. But then something happened. A shift. A fracture. I don't know the specifics, but magic was ripped away, siphoned off, and then sealed. Earth and the Otherworld split apart, and each continued down its own path."

"What makes you so sure?"

"The Green Goblin and the Blue Fairy," Jack replied simply. "And you." He let the words hover between them. Jacob blanched at their mention, and Jack raised an eyebrow at the reaction.

Jacob's cup rattled against the desk as he set it down too hard. Liquid sloshed over the rim, staining his perfectly organised papers.

"Have you heard from them?" Jack asked, pressing the matter.

"No, not for several decades. They used to check in occasionally in my -our- youth. But then one day they just vanished."

"No worries, I'll just need you to dig up whatever information you can on them. As I'm sure you have already done." He looked piercingly at Jacob and saw confirmation in his eyes. "I figured as much. In the meantime, tell me, brother. Did you get my message?"

Jacob's jaw tightened, further evidence of his shirking responsibility for purposefully ignoring Jack's message. The vein at his temple pulsed. "As you can see, I've been busy running a corporation; I don't have time to be playing errand boy in your little games. How was I supposed to know that-"

"Remember our deal?" Jack interrupted as he leaned forward, his voice low and dangerous, his hand instinctively shifting to where a weapon would be if he were carrying. The movement was subtle, but spoke volumes about the kind of man he'd become. For just an instant, his eyes reflected trials no mortal could have survived. A gleam of power surging that didn't fully belong in this world. Not yet.

Jack rose from the chair, moving around the desk to meet Jacob's gaze head-on. "You may have taken my life, Jacob, but this world? This world is mine now. And you'd better remember that."

He began pacing in front of the window before turning back to confront Jacob. Outside, Manhattan pulsed with its usual rhythm, oblivious to the conversation reshaping its future.

"This isn't a game. It's survival. And if you don't get ahead of the curve, you're going to end up buried beneath someone else's rise to power."

"What makes you so sure you are able to do this? That you're the one with the power to do as you say?"

"You really don't know?" Jack mused, amusement flickering in his tone. "You haven't heard the news?"

Jacob scowled. A man unused to being the least informed person in the room.

"What news?"

Jack tilted his head. Genuinely puzzled now. How could a man so plugged into the global networks be so blind to what was happening?

"You being so cryptic is really starting to piss me off," Jacob muttered. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Jack gestured vaguely.

"Turn on the TV."

Jacob gave him a sharp look.

Then sighed.

Grabbed the remote.

Pressed the button.

The massive screen mounted on the office wall flickered to life.

And opened to-

"…Animal Planet?" Jack blinked. The screen was playing a nature documentary -Shark Week was in full swing, the circle of life in high definition.

Jacob's brow furrowed. Confused.

"What's the point of this?"

Jack sighed, rubbing his face. Sometimes even billionaires needed basic instructions. "Pick a regular station, any regular station."

Jacob pressed another button.

The channel flipped-

And the room was immediately filled with reports of dungeons appearing across the globe.

The image of a poised anchorwoman in a tailored crimson blazer appeared on the screen. Her eyes flick toward the camera, steady. Professional. But there was something underneath - a tremor she couldn't quite hide. The backdrop showed a blurred image of a classic roadside diner: neon flickering, patrons frozen mid-sip.

"Good evening. We begin tonight with a developing story out of Kern County, where witnesses at the Farm Diner reported a series of… let's call them unusual events just days ago."

They watched as the video cut to shaky cam footage of a man silhouetted in the doorway of the diner, jacket flaring behind him, as he left. The quality seemed deliberately degraded -pixels dancing, edges soft- but the posture was unmistakable.

"According to leaked footage obtained from a confidential military source, the man -still unidentified- was seen engaging hostile, non-human entities on the outskirts of town. Yes, you heard right. Not a prank. Not a movie shoot. These creatures, dubbed Scorps, exhibit scorpion-like limbs, humanoid torsos, and powers unlike anything ever documented."

The screen cut once more to an image freeze-frame: the same man mid-leap, glowing rune-etched machete raised high, backlit by floodlights and fire. The scorpion-like creature loomed before him, barbed limbs splayed, chitin glistening with something that wasn't quite blood.

"The footage you're seeing now has been verified by multiple digital forensic experts. Still, authorities have not confirmed its origin. The image quality is… degraded. Analysts suggest interference -possibly from the creature's presence or from what military sources call a 'zone of distortion.'"

The image flowed into motion, showing the man handily dismember one enemy after another, darting from arachnae to arachnae, leaving a trail of destruction in his wake. It was a bloodbath, that is, until two gargantuan creatures, orders of magnitude bigger than the rest of the creatures, entered the field of battle.

The man wasted no time in engaging the new enemy, and that's where the scene froze once more. With the machete-wielding madman caught leaping through the air towards an opponent far larger than he was.

The news anchor audibly swallowed as she turned slightly, her voice going lower. More intimate. More afraid.

"The stranger is considered armed and highly dangerous. The Department of Homeland Paranormal Affairs, a new branch of government agencies, is urging anyone with knowledge of his identity to come forward. Rewards have been posted."

She paused -just slightly- as if the next line wasn't on the prompter. "Until then, one thing's certain: someone is hunting monsters in our backyard. And he's not wearing a badge."

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