Skulking through the costume shop was an interesting experience, as so many things were. It was a mix between haunted house and shopping, the deep shadows and the darkness of the night creating a curious contrast. I noticed that my returning Darkness Magic was slowly increasing my ability to see in the night, maybe the emerging of my Firnelven lineage was helping as well, though I wasn’t sure. So far, I had not noticed any serious physiological changes, though my ears might have started to become more sensitive, a little pointy and more mobile. Or it might simply be my imagination, the change had only come three days ago, so who knew? I certainly didn’t.

Looking around the costume shop, finding capes was easy enough. There were dozens of them, hanging down the back of manikins, some sweeping the floor, others hanging loosely, so they would billow artistically in the right conditions. For me, neither was an option, mostly because they were sized for an average adult, so someone twenty to thirty centimetres taller than me. Even those that were supposed to billow would easily drag across the ground and I had no desire to sweep the streets. It would be even worse if there was actual snow on the ground, something not completely impossible even as the end of winter was near.

Going through the various clothes and fabrics, I placed my hands on them, trying to get a feel for their properties. I had no idea what might make fabric well-suited for enchantment, or ill-suited but given that I lacked time and resources to seriously experiment with them, I needed to make a decision. Given that simple touch likely wouldn’t work, I decided on something more involved and channelled Darkness Magic into my hands, coating them with blackness, while looking at the fabric with the Magic Sight inherited from Lenore. That way, I could see how the Astral Power interacted with the fabric, checking if the fabric was immediately dissolved, if it was damaged or if the Astral Power was pushed out of it, something that might disrupt enchantments.

It was rather amusing just how different the various fabrics reacted to my experiments. I had expected major differences between the various base fabrics, that something like silk would react differently compared to polyester blends or cotton, which they did. But what I hadn’t expected was that the colour of the fabric was similarly impactful, that my darkness-magic, for example, reacted quite strongly, and destructively, with any light colours, while flowing smoothly through anything black, dark blue or deep purple. There was, to my understanding, no real reason for the magic to care about the dye and yet, it did. Or it might be my mind associating the Darkness Magic with those colours and thus creating some sort of resonance effect. Either way, it was rather fascinating and by the end of my checking, I had found a nice, deep purple cape that hung down to my knees, likely designed as a half-cape for regular-sized people. It was made from pure silk, giving off a glossy sheen that made me a little hesitant but given just how well the Darkness Magic was flowing through it, there was little to debate. It was the best fabric to hold the enchantments and it might even allow me to dip into the concept of Twilight far sooner than I had managed on Mundus, simply because of its interaction with light.

And it most certainly was a better fabric than the polyester blend, when I had tested a creme-coloured cape made from that, my magic had literally burned small holes into that, d as if it was some sort of potent acid. Intrigued by that interaction, I decided to experiment a little more, draining a chunk of Astral Power in the process, and ultimately learning very little. It had been fun, though. And the whole experimentation was enough to increase my Darkness Magic by one, bringing it to eight.

Knowing that I would likely need a different fabric and colour for the blouse I imagined, embroidered with Blood Magic Runes that allowed me to heal myself if needed led me to abandon the costume shop after a brief run of experiments. I achieved the best results with cotton but given the limited selection of styles and sizes in the store, I decided to head elsewhere. There was a faint sense of amusement bubbling within me, that I now was suddenly conscious and willing to spend inordinate amounts of time looking for just the right clothes, compared to my utilitarian shopping before the change but given that I wasn’t searching for aesthetic reasons but to get the best function out of my clothes, I didn’t mind too much. Either way, my search brought me past a small tailor shop that I promptly raided for yarn, needles and similar tools until I ended up at another mall, one of the bigger ones in town.

During that time, I didn’t bother experimenting too much with my Darkness Rune Mastery or Blood Magic, instead, I focused on efficiently and quickly ending as many Shattered as I came across, enough to net me a level up, bringing me to eight. None of the Shattered had been above level five, but I noticed that there was a constant increase in the average level of Shattered, from level 1 on the first night, when they had all been human before, to level two or three on the second and so on. It made me wonder just how that worked, and if there was more to EXP-gains than I knew. On Mundus, had never really questioned that only quests and killing gave EXP but now, looking with the goggles of hindsight and the understanding that it hadn’t been a game, there had to be more to it.

Otherwise, how could a herbivore reach higher levels? There had been elk and deer around level fifty and if only killing gave EXP, that would be difficult. And to get an increase in average level, each Shattered would either have to kill a few people or fellow Shattered. I hadn’t seen evidence of either, though I had noticed a few bodies in the streets. Dirty bodies, wielding crude weapons, things like clubs, fire-axes and similar tools, their limbs broken by the inhuman strength of the Shattered, their flesh rend by their claws. More often than not, it was trivial to guess what had happened, other survivors trying to raise their own level, only to fall in battle. There had been dozens of such bodies, but far from enough to explain the increase in Shattered level.

For now, I was grateful that I could keep a somewhat decent levelling pace, thanks to the continued increase in Shattered levels, though I was a little concerned about what it would mean in the long run. I didn’t want to share my planet with only these burned-out husks of humanity and the awakened beasts, as I had started to think about the animals that were gaining levels.

Those were around, too. I had mostly noticed stalking cats, their size a little on the large size for housecats, but I was certain there were more around. Rats and various birds had been considered pests in human cities and now, they could increase their power and gain abilities. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what a swarm of rats could become, given enough levels, or what happened if a pigeon managed to reach level hundred, or something equally ridiculous. But those were worries for the distant future, for now, I had greater concerns. Soon, the city around me would be filled with disease, the cold air of winter was slowing the decay process but that would only help for so long.

I gave myself at most four more days until I would leave the area, looking for something smaller, maybe even an area completely devoid of humanity’s remains. There had been a small mountain range south of the city, around sixty kilometres away. Going there might be a wise idea but I would have to make that decision once I had more information.

Looking through the mall, I noticed that I wasn’t the first person to raid their stores. The various restaurants had been broken into and when Silva and I snuck past one of them, I heard noises inside, something that sounded like a crying child and a voice trying to calm that child. I briefly considered checking up on them, before deciding against it. Children, especially at the age that made them prone to crying randomly, would get people killed in this situation. I wasn’t about to try playing the hero, not if I needed to ascertain my own continued survival and rise in power first.

Everything else had to take a backseat in comparison to that. Charity was a virtue reserved for the strong. For now, I had neither. Maybe I would be able to help others, once I was in an unassailable position of power. Or maybe I was deluding myself, trying to assuage the morals my mother had trained me to follow. Only time would tell.