Lennon stopped abruptly, almost dropping the essence stones he carried, when the system burst before his eyes with its usual sudden chill:
[Latent Ability Unlocked: "The Awakening of Knowledge"]
Description: Your mind has expanded beyond human limits. IQ: 270
His body froze, his breath faltered for an instant.
No one on Earth, not even the most celebrated geniuses, could come close to such an IQ.
It was absurd, inhuman. For a moment, he felt suspended between disbelief and euphoria.
Before he could fully process it, the system followed with another message:
[Advantages of an IQ 270]
1. Extremely fast reasoning: Able to process complex problems almost instantly.
2. Phenomenal memory: Will recall practically everything you read or experience.
3. Planning and strategy: Can foresee multiple consequences of actions within seconds.
4. Accelerated learning: Able to master languages, techniques, theories very quickly.
5. Extreme creativity: Connects concepts most people don't even notice.
Lennon blinked a few times, absorbing each point, already feeling – almost physically – his brain reorganizing, processing every detail of the environment.
His eyes fell on the minerals he carried; suddenly, intricate symbols, similar to the pulsing veins of the colossal gate in the guardian's chamber, flashed through his mind.
He remembered with precision every line he had recorded, and a theory began to take shape: if on Earth minerals like iron, gold, and gemstones had specific functions, then these minerals might serve similar purposes – perhaps even more powerful ones.
He couldn't connect everything yet, but the first piece of the puzzle was forming.
A malicious smile spread across his lips – a smile of sharpened perception that did not go unnoticed.
A nearby prisoner, exhausted and on the verge of collapse under the weight of the stones, lifted his head and stared at him in disbelief.
Even while smiling, Lennon radiated a calm and clarity that seemed impossible in that hell, and the prisoner shook his head, resigned to the madness around him.
The system reappeared, this time outlining clear limitations:
[Limitations]
1. Physical: IQ does not increase strength, stamina, or motor coordination.
2. Emotional: An IQ of 270 does not mean immunity to fear, trauma, or emotions. The mind can still overload from excess information.
3. Praxis/execution: Knowing the solution doesn't mean being able to apply it. Physical strategies still depend on body and environment.
4. Excess rationality: May be slow in decisions that require intuition or emotional improvisation.
Lennon drew a deep breath, aware that despite the magnitude of this gift, there were still human limits he had to respect. But instead of discouragement, a silent determination was born.
He now possessed something no other prisoner there had: a mind capable of understanding, analyzing, and creating solutions even in a world that refused to be understood.
Lennon staggered along with the other prisoners, his body burning, muscles throbbing with exhaustion.
The path had been cruel: more than ten kilometers carrying heavy stones, beneath a gray, oppressive sky that seemed to drain every drop of energy.
He could hear the creaking of bones from the others, muffled groans, the dry clash of stones grinding against each other.
When the climb began, it became a natural trap. Two prisoners stumbled simultaneously, falling backwards onto the loose rock.
A muffled cry, the echo of breaking bones, and within seconds the guardians drew near, cold and impassive, crushing any chance of survival.
The ground, stained with blood and dust, seemed ready to swallow them all.
The red eyes of one guardian turned to Lennon, measuring him, testing his endurance.
With an imperious gesture, he ordered him to stop and gather the fallen stones.
Fear tightened his chest, but something in the guardian's stare said:
"If you falter, you'll be next."
Calmly, Lennon crouched. Every movement felt magnified by the tension of the moment.
His heart pounded, ears catching every gasp from the fallen, every scrape of stone against stone, every step of the unblinking guardian.
He picked them up one by one, bearing both the physical and psychological weight, when his eyes noticed a smaller stone, almost overlooked, wedged in a crack between two rocks.
With almost instinctive precision, he slid it into his palm, feeling the rough texture, the metallic cold that pulsed faintly as if alive.
Every passing second stretched into eternity. The guardian never took his eyes off him; any suspicious move could cost his life.
Slowly, almost imperceptibly, Lennon focused, fixing the stone in his mind, linking it to his guide, feeling its energy.
A chill ran down his spine, a mix of euphoria and terror, as he hid the gesture in his palm.
Each heartbeat was a silent countdown – the danger was real, but the prize, if he managed, could change everything.
He rose slowly, keeping his posture neutral, handing over the rest of the stones without revealing anything.
The guardian watched, satisfied or perhaps simply indifferent, and Lennon felt a shiver of silent triumph, aware that this moment could be decisive for what was still to come.
A house appeared ahead, as if born from the very essence of that world: walls made of black stone interwoven with essence crystals pulsing with a cold, steady light, reflecting shades of silver and blue.
The distance was still nearly a kilometer, yet Lennon could perceive every detail, every line, every fissure that revealed the strategic use of minerals in its construction.
"Just as I suspected…" he murmured as he analyzed.
His vision was now sharper, almost supernatural compared to the other prisoners.
He could feel the density, the concentrated energy in those stones, and quickly understood: the place where they delivered the stone loads was this house ahead.
Each crystal, each fragment of essence there had a function, similar to the use of precious metals or rare gems on Earth – but with a far more direct effect on the environment and those who wielded them.
The group advanced slowly, exhausted and tense. But then, one of the women among them, eyes wide and hands trembling, completely lost control.
With a stifled cry, she dropped her box of stones to the ground.
The impact sent the stones rolling, echoing metallic sounds across the floor.
"Damn it! Enough! I can't take this hell anymore! I don't care about any of you!! This has to be a cruel dream, I know I'll wake up!"
Tension exploded instantly. The ground suddenly vibrated, as if the house itself had sensed the break in order.
Before anyone could react, a black shadow materialized out of nowhere, descending upon the woman with terrifying force.
A sharp crack, a crushing impact – her head was swallowed by the shadow, her body collapsing lifeless, the sound echoing as a cruel warning to all.
Lennon froze, breath caught in his throat, every muscle locked.
The stench of fear and death mixed with the wind, heavy with dust and essence energy.
He could feel the absolute terror of the scene, the weight of that world's reality, more brutal than anything he had ever imagined.
Even with all his newfound knowledge and strength, he knew: there was no escape here, no mercy.
Horror was inevitable, and survival demanded more than courage – it demanded calculation, instinct, and a coldness he was only beginning to master.
A shiver climbed his spine, reminding him that in this place, any mistake could be the last.