"It is not quite that simple."

Of course it wasn't. Olivia scowled at the sword as it continued to speak. Because this couldn't be like a regular isekai, where she got cool cheat powers and had to work within the System that might or might not be broken or openly antagonistic towards her. No. No, she had to get this mess.

"In some ways," the stupid sword was continuing, "that is an accurate representation of the current situation. In the way that a child 'becomes' their parents as it grows. It takes on their shape, it takes on some of their features, it is influenced and molded by those who, for lack of a better term, 'created' it."

"Oh ew," Bel pulled a face. "I am not 'becoming' my parents. Find a better metaphor, Swordy."

"Shhhhhh!" Olivia shushed her big sister. "I'm listening to this!"

"Nerd," Bel grumped at her.

"Godzilla," Olivia replied, sticking her tongue out.

"Girls," Dad said, a hint of warning in his voice. "I think we're all trying to listen?"

"Yes Dad," they said together, contenting themselves to one last exchanged glare before looking back at the sword.

"So," Luc said from where he was sitting on Mom's lap like a little kid, not that Olivia was jealous, not even a little bit, because she was too big to sit on Mom's lap anyways and…

She leaned against Mom's shoulder a little harder and tried to concentrate.

"Are you saying that we are creating the System?" her little brother continued his thought.

"That is closer to what is taking place, yes. Look at the classes you have obtained, the callings, even the profession. None of those titles were extant in Seroco when Caesar was alive. They appear to have been created specifically for you… Or perhaps better way to say it is to say they were created from you, from your memories and experiences."

"Okay wait," Olivia raised a hand. "I gotta stop you there. Because you're telling me that this was an automatic thing? Like something a, I don't know, system might do for us? But you literally just got done telling us that the System is dead. Would you please, for the love of little green bunnies, get your story straight?"

"I apologize Consul, this is… difficult for me." The sword rattled against the log it leaned against. "My clan has been guides for Sojourners since time immemorial, instructing them on the ways of the System and on how to live, survive, and thrive upon the face of Seroco. But this time is… Well, it is different for all of us, isn't it. The current System is, in fact, dead. I can feel it on the currents of the world, bloated and decaying. But I believe there is a fundamental misunderstanding here."

"Oh, you think?" Olivia sighed and flopped her head down onto Mom's shoulder. Mom snorted and reached up to pat her on the head, and she totally didn't lean into the touch. "Alright, hit us. What's the 'fundamental misunderstanding'?"

"The System, in times past, has been the only interaction and connection point of Sojourners to the motes of power generated by Seroco. And because of that, most believed the System to be the ultimate power structure. It is not. Or at least, the evidence my clan has collected over the millennia suggests that it is not."

"Oh! I get it!"

Everyone turned to look at Lucas, who was grinning proudly. He looked around, meeting different stares in various shades of incomprehension, and his grin faded just a bit.

"I mean… You guys see it, right?" He looked back and forth again, and then the grin disappeared to be replaced by raised eyebrows. "Toraline just said, we're growing into spaces left by the System? So that means there's got to be some kind of operating system for us to fit in to. And that means there's… Like… A Deeper Magic, right? Like when Aslan sacrificed himself; there was the deep magic that the Witch knew about, but then there was something even deeper? And that's what makes the spaces for us to grow into?"

"You're talking about a framework" Dad said, his voice rumbling in his chest. "Something foundational that this… system thing was built over?"

"It is an imperfect metaphor, but yes," Toraline said, buzzing again. "In essence, there are deeper rules, possibly even greater sentiences, that exist within the core of Seroco that the System was designed–or perhaps evolved, of that we were never certain–to interact with. The motes are harvested, consumed, and transformed into energy for those connected to the system. But there must be barriers that direct the System's growth and functions, else it would grow into an all-consuming thing with no boundaries.

"I believe Mighty Caesar discovered some of these deep mysteries. It was how he was able to mold the System to the image he desired. It is why the motes bear his likeness. But if he did, he never confided in anyone I know of. He…"

The sword trailed off, rattling softly. And to Olivia's ears, there was a kind of sad note to the blade's rattle.

And suddenly it hit her, all at once, like a tidal wave of bricks. The Albrights weren't the only ones dealing with a new reality here, were they? She looked over her shoulder, through the trunks of the big sentient tree that loomed over them all, towards the spot where the skeleton of a tutorial fairy still lay. The skeleton where Luc had found Toraline, the living sword who had once been a tutorial fairy.

"These things happen", the blade had said, like it was no big deal.

"It's okay," she said quietly, reaching over to lay a hand against the bare metal of the blade. Toraline's rattling stopped, and there came a sound like a silken whisper, the very sound she would have imagined if she'd read about a sword taking a deep breath. "We don't need to go deeper into it."

"Thank you," the sword whispered.

"But that does bring up a few good questions," Dad said now, giving Olivia's hair a fond ruffle like he knew she hated and loved at the same time. "If we're becoming or growing or whatever this System thing, what advantages does that give us? It sounds like it could be a powerful advantage here, but I don't know enough about any of it to see how."

"Ah, yes," the sword made a sound like metal on rock–did it just clear its throat? Olivia wondered, blinking. "I am not precisely sure of all the benefits you may reap from such a situation, but I can already describe two that I have seen in action. The first, of course, is your ability to not only harvest but also utilize the motes."

"But you said the old System gave power to the classes and stuff already," Isabel said, frowning. "Isn't this just the same thing?"

"In a sense, but in practice it is more complex. The old System did indeed harvest the motes, utilize their power for its own existence, process them, and then spread their power out to those connected to it. But there were limitations. A legionnaire, for instance, could only use their Hold The Line three times per day. After that, they would need to wait for their reserves to replenish upon the rising of the sun.

"The System had to put limitations on such things to ensure that it never ran out of power. Caesar, of course, had methods of superceding those restrictions, but… For the mortals, for those not Caesar, there were restrictions in place."

"Oh!" Olivia snapped her fingers then reached up and grabbed her Mom's scroll from Hoolio's beak–the little owl was getting better and anticipating what information she was going to need. She unfurled the scroll, eyes scanning, and a grin lit up her face. "I get it! There's no restrictions on our abilities!"

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"Exactly so," Toraline rattled. "It appears that as long as you have sufficient motes to activate the Art or Skill you possess, you may do so with impunity. This makes you significantly more powerful than your base ranks may suggest, because one of the functions of the rank system was to ensure that those who garnered more motes for the system also received greater rewards. And as you have seen, gathering motes can be done in a myriad ways. So a high rank warrior, for instance, would have access to greater and more frequent uses of powers."

"So that they could fight bigger monsters," said Mom, nodding along. "So that they could harvest more motes for the system, which in turn would grant them higher ranks, and the cycle would continue."

"And it's gotta be for stuff that isn't just combat stuff," Lucas chimed in. "Like my profession, right? The more I heal, the more healy powers I'd get, and the more times I'd be able to use them, right?"

"Mostly correct," the sword said. "Callings, Classes, and Professions work differently from one another… But I get ahead of myself. You have inquired about advantages. The second advantage I see is that… In the days of Caesar, classes and professions were set in stone, molded and set by Caesar's will. You were given roles to choose from, and you could not choose any outside of those strictly regimented options. Those seeking to be fighters in Caesar's legions could select only from the classes of Legionnaire or Sagittarius. These could be changed or expanded on as one rose through the ranks of the legion, but that is all the choice you had."

"Uh," Dinah raised her hand. "So, I got my class during that fight, and it wasn't either one of those. It's called 'dead-eye'.

"Yes, and that leads me to my next observation: You are not choosing classes from a tightly-locked list as the men and women of my time did. You appear to be forming your own out of pure possibility. I believe that, as the new System grows into the spaces left vacant by the death of the old System, it is populating lists and tables with new classes, professions, even Callings, based upon information it draws from its 'parents'. On the one hand it has the remnants of the old System, which is why the Consul connections still exist. And on the other hand…"

"On the other hand," Olivia breathed, "it has us."

"Consul Isabel, you are a Berserker, a class that channels rage and raw emotion into tangible power and strength. Such a class would be unheard of in Caesar's day. Mighty Caesar valued discipline above all else. It was what made his legions so effective. A class such as yours would be antithetical to everything he worked for, and yet here it is, in existence and being utilized.

"Consul Dinah, similarly, the 'dead-eye' class is not something we saw in the time of Caesar. The closest analogue would be something akin to Venator, a hunter of animals and collector of their flesh and hide. But your Arts and Skills appear to be suited for both a hunter and warrior role. Mighty Caesar would never have allowed such a blending. He believed in single roles for each class. And he demanded that the System of his time offer up classes in exactly that fashion."

"This 'Caesar' guy kinda sounds like a stick in the mud," Lucas said. Olivia tore herself away from the sword's explanation to see her little brother had pulled one of the Coins–or should she call them Motes now? She had to admit, 'coins' was already sounding more natural, since that's what they'd been calling them up to this point. But 'motes' sounded more 'fantasy', too.

She'd have to give that some serious thought.

"This is him, right?" Lucas asked, turning the coin to the side that had the profile etching of an older guy with a severe expression on his big-nosed face. "He kinda looks like a guy who would call the cops because the party next door was getting too loud."

"Mighty Caesar believed in order and discipline in all things," Toraline said, and this time her voice became–heh–sharper. "His will was iron, his precepts inviolable. He led his Empire to the heights of power and gave all those within it safety and security. In a world in which systems warred constantly and terror and desperation were the watchwords of the day for the common man, Rome Eternal was a shining beacon of stability and strength. You would do well, Consul, to speak of him with the respect he was due."

"Okay, okay, sorry," Lucas grimaced and tossed the coin back into the Somewhere. "I didn't mean to insult the guy or anything. Just saying, he looks kinda serious, is all."

"He carved an empire from the bedrock of this world with naught but his own two hands," Toraline said. "He was a very serious man."

"Well. His own two hands and the limitless power of the System," Olivia said, giving the sword a Look. Okay yeah sure Lucas might have been a little stupid for talking about Caesar like that to a sword-fairy thing that obviously worshipped him, but Luc was her brother, and no steel tart was gonna talk to her brother like that and get away with it. Sympathy for Toraline's circumstances could only go so far.

"Alright, calm down folks," Mom said in her not-quite-angry-but-you-shouldn't-push-it-much-more voice that all moms seemed to have access to. "Let's keep it civil and keep it on track. Toraline, you were speaking of a second advantage we have?"

The sword rattled against the log, then did that breathe-in sound again and followed it up with what must have been a breathe-out.

"Forgive me. This is… Difficult. For all of us, I imagine.

"All this being said, however, it would appear to me that you now have the ability to select from a much wider and more varied group of classes and professions than were extant in Caesar's days. This is a powerful advantage. It means you can craft yourselves into a coherent unit, covering one anothers' weaknesses with your own strengths. It also means that as you gather subjects to your banner, the system may also incorporate their experiences into its class tables, or you may be able to shape new classes for them based upon their own needs.

"Mighty Caesar had this ability to some extent, but even he was bound by the limitations of the System. Limited usage of Arts and Skills, limited types of classes and professions… But you will suffer none of these limitations because, in effect, you may be able to consciously decide what–if any–those limitations will be. Well, within the framework of the… Call it the Deep System, I suppose."

"That," Olivia pointed at Toraline. "Tell us about that. The framework. You said earlier that the classes and professions and callings were different from each other. Is that where the framework comes in?"

"It is. In brief: Professions are intended to be just that, daily jobs for the subjects of the realm. They have a single Art and a single Skill, which are always used in tandem with one another. For instance, Consul Lucas, your 'chirurgeon' profession–"

"Wow, you pronounced it right the first time," Lucas said, sounding impressed.

"It is difficult to mispronounce words when one has no tongue over which to trip. But as I was saying; your profession has the [Healing Balm] Art, which allows you to utilize motes to heal injuries. It is an inefficient catch-all Art, in that it can be used to heal most any injury but because it does not focus on a single type of injury it expends much more energy. And the skill with which it is paired is [Diagnose Ailment], which… Well, I should say is fairly self-explanatory.

"Professions may be ranked up as you perform tasks related to them. In Consul Lucas's case, healing enough wounds or diagnosing enough injuries will cause his profession to rank up. In the days of Caesar, this would enable them to expend more energy, or perhaps evolve their Art or Skill into something more refined. However, I am unsure what ranking up will do for you now as I have never seen one directly connected to the Deep System as you are rank up. Even Mighty Caesar was still connected to the main system, not the Deep one. Professions may be changed as frequently as one desires, but unless something has changed, the ranks in one profession do not get moved over into another profession.

"Classes are similar to professions, except they are stronger, have more Arts and Skills, and are considerably more difficult to change once you have accepted them. Also, at least in the time of Caesar, there were fewer to choose from. It was classed subjects that made up the bulk of Caesar's armies, and the core of his empire. Not everyone was granted the option to pick a class.

"And finally, Callings are… Who you are, given power. They cannot be chosen, they can only be uncovered through a special combinations of circumstances and actions that are unique to each individual. Most often they will coincide with a class the individual has chosen, but not always. The Callings are tied to the Deep System, and were one of the few things Mighty Caesar found utterly infuriating about the world because he could not control them. He had no more say over a person's calling than he had over the sun and the moon. Callings always bequeath powerful Arts and Skills upon those fortunate enough to find them, but they are rare. Or at least," the sword added, and Olivia had the sense that it was eyeing Mom and Dad, "They were in the time of Mighty Caesar."

There was quiet in the clearing as everyone digested the rather large chunk of information they'd just been handed. For her part, Olivia felt a flicker of the old excitement rising up inside her again. Okay, okay so it WAS like an Isekai! But there were just some strange rules, and a few more hoops, but, like, it looked like she was going to get to pick her class! And a profession, just like Luc! Okay cool, so that's what would have to come next, and then they could figure out a plan to–

"Um," Isabel raised a hand. Everyone looked over at her to see her eyebrows beetled in a frown and a far-away look in her eyes. "Quick question. What exactly did you mean when you said 'gather subjects to your banner?"

If a sword could blink, Olivia would bet money that Toraline just did. "When you go forth a-conquering, of course."

"What?" said Mom and Dad together.

"Of course. It is common knowledge. The fate of all Sojourners on Seroco is to be that of a uniting force. Mighty Caesar came the closest I have ever seen, conquering great swathes of the world in the name of New Rome. It is why you were brought here by the ancient mechanisms. It is why you are gifted with power and resources. It is a Sojourner's task to unite all of Seroco under a single banner, cast down all other Systems, and finally break the cycle of war, death, and chaos that has plagued Seroco since the beginning of time!"

The sword's speech sounded like something it had practiced in front of a mirror like a million times already. From the inflections, and the grandiose words, it was clearly something Toraline expected to get their blood pumping and their spirits roused.

Instead she got a round of incredulous stares. That went on for like a minute and a half. And silence.

"Um," the sword said after a long moment. "Was that not what you were expecting?"

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