The Manaless King Of Sigma

Chapter 4: The Price of Seeing

The first thing Mateo Álvarez learned about the First Awakening was that surviving it did not make him feel safe.

It made him afraid of what came next.

At 4:26 p.m., the underground parking structure had become a shelter for nearly two hundred people. Families huddled beside parked vehicles, injured strangers lay on blankets near the medical station, and volunteers tried to organize food and water before panic turned the crowd against itself.

The electricity had returned intermittently, but the communication networks remained unreliable. Every few minutes, someone's phone would connect long enough to receive a notification before losing its signal again.

The sky outside was still blue.

Nobody knew whether that was normal anymore.

Mateo sat against a concrete pillar, watching Gabriel help distribute water to the people around them. His nephew had complained about the work twice, but he had continued without being asked.

Sofía, meanwhile, had found a corner near the medical station where she could examine the few system messages her tablet had managed to save.

Mateo was proud of them.

He was also exhausted.

The fight with the Rift Stalker had left his shoulder bruised, his palms scraped, and his head throbbing with a persistent pain that grew worse whenever he tried to recall the strange vision he had experienced.

He had seen a weakness in the creature.

He had also nearly died trying to exploit it.

That distinction mattered.

In his previous life, Mateo had made the mistake of treating information as an advantage that guaranteed victory. He had known the layouts of dungeons, the weaknesses of monsters, and the locations of valuable resources. Yet none of that knowledge had saved him when Hollow Crown Dungeon had turned against his team.

Knowing what might happen was not the same as being able to stop it.

He flexed his fingers.

A faint blue shimmer appeared beneath his skin, lasting less than a second.

Mateo immediately stopped moving.

He examined his hand, then looked around to see whether anyone had noticed.

Nobody had.

He pressed his palm against his chest.

Nothing.

The strange sensation he had experienced during the fight remained difficult to describe. It had not felt like the mana he remembered sensing in his first life. It was closer to recognizing a pattern before he understood what the pattern meant.

And every time he tried to force the sensation to return, his headache intensified.

He decided not to try again.

For now.

"You're doing that thing again."

Sofía stood beside him, holding two cups of water.

"What thing?"

"Staring into space like you're trying to solve the universe."

Mateo accepted one of the cups.

"Maybe I am."

"Then the universe should be easier to solve than this tablet."

She sat beside him and showed him the screen.

"I recovered part of the system notification from earlier. The one that appeared when you examined that injured man."

Mateo's expression changed.

"What did you find?"

"Almost nothing. The message wasn't stored in the normal Omega application. It appeared as a separate overlay, then vanished."

"Can you recover it?"

"Not yet. But I found something else."

She opened a list of system events recorded since noon.

"Most people are receiving basic status windows. Name, species, and a few other details. Some are receiving ability descriptions. Others are getting warnings about unstable mana circulation."

Mateo nodded slowly.

That matched what he remembered.

The First Awakening had introduced a system that could measure and display aspects of a person's condition. However, its assessments were not always complete, and some abilities had remained hidden until their owners discovered them through experience.

"What about me?" he asked.

Sofía turned the tablet toward him.

"Your status is different."

A photograph of his earlier status window filled the screen. She had managed to capture it before the display disappeared.

Name: Mateo Álvarez

Species: Human

Cultivation Rank: Unawakened

Mana Circulation: Unstable

System Standing: Unregistered

Anomalous Trait: Unclassified

Mateo studied the final two lines.

"Did you capture this yourself?"

"No. You were sitting here when the window appeared. I saw the light reflected in your eyes, and I took a picture."

He looked at her.

"You saw the window?"

"Not clearly. I could see that something was there, but the text was too faint from where I stood."

That was useful information.

The system had displayed the window directly to him, yet Sofía had detected its presence.

Perhaps the anomaly was connected to his perception rather than the system itself.

Or perhaps it was something else entirely.

"Did you notice anything unusual about the wording?" he asked.

"Yes. Everyone else's status uses standard classifications. Yours includes a trait the system can't identify."

She paused.

"Uncle, what happened to you during the fight?"

Mateo looked away.

"I saw a weakness in the monster's armor."

"How?"

"I don't know."

"Was it an ability?"

"I don't know."

"Was it connected to the blue light in your eyes?"

He sighed.

"You have a lot of questions."

"Because you keep doing dangerous things without explaining them."

She was right, and they both knew it.

Mateo placed the cup beside him.

"During the fight, I saw lines beneath the creature's armor. One area looked different from the others. When I struck it, the creature reacted as if I'd hit something important."

"And then you collapsed."

"Yes."

"Did you see those lines before the system window appeared?"

Mateo thought carefully.

"I think so."

Sofía tapped her tablet.

"Then we need to separate what you saw from what the system showed you. They might be connected, but we can't assume they are the same thing."

Mateo stared at her for a moment.

In his previous life, he had often been the one explaining things to her. Now she was reminding him of a principle he had forgotten.

Observation was not proof.

He nodded.

"You're right. Let's write down exactly what happened, without guessing at the explanation."

Sofía smiled faintly.

"Now you're thinking properly."

For the first time that afternoon, Mateo laughed.

It was brief, but genuine.

Then a loud crash echoed through the parking structure.

Both of them turned.

Near the entrance, a group of survivors had begun arguing with a broad-shouldered man wearing a military-style jacket. He was demanding that everyone hand over their supplies so they could be redistributed under his supervision.

A younger man stood opposite him, refusing to surrender a backpack.

"Those supplies belong to my family," the younger man said.

The broad-shouldered man shoved him.

"Your family is part of this shelter. That means your supplies belong to everyone."

Several people began shouting.

Mateo rose slowly.

The First Awakening had been underway for only a few hours, and already someone was trying to turn fear into authority.

He knew this pattern.

Monsters were not the only danger humanity faced.

Sometimes the most dangerous people were those who convinced frightened survivors that obedience was the same as safety.

Mateo glanced at Sofía.

"Stay here."

She gave him a tired look.

"At least tell me what you're planning before you walk into another dangerous situation."

"I'm going to stop a fight."

"That's what you said before you fought the monster."

"This is different."

"Is it?"

Mateo had no answer.

He took a breath.

"I'm going to talk to them. If it turns violent, move away from the entrance and find Gabriel."

Sofía nodded reluctantly.

Mateo crossed the parking structure.

He had no desire to become a leader of strangers. He had enough responsibilities already. But if the shelter descended into violence, the people inside would be in danger before another monster ever appeared.

He needed to prevent that.

And this time, he intended to do it without throwing himself into the middle of a fight.

The broad-shouldered man had a small crowd gathered behind him.

"My name is Marcos," he announced. "I served in the national civil protection service. I know how to manage emergencies, and I won't let this place turn into chaos."

A few people nodded.

Others looked uncertain.

Marcos pointed toward the supplies stacked beside the wall.

"Everyone contributes. We pool our resources, establish rules, and appoint people to enforce them. Anyone who refuses can find somewhere else to stay."

The younger man tightened his grip on his backpack.

"My mother needs medication. I can't hand everything over."

"Then your mother can receive her share like everyone else."

"You don't even know what she needs!"

Marcos stepped closer.

Mateo intervened before the argument could escalate.

"He's right about one thing," he said. "We need a system for sharing supplies. But taking everything from people without knowing what they need isn't a system."

Marcos turned toward him.

"And who are you?"

"Someone who doesn't want this shelter to become another danger."

A few people murmured in agreement.

Marcos looked Mateo up and down, taking in his bruised shoulder and scraped hands.

"You look like you barely survived the street. Don't lecture me about emergencies."

"I won't. I'll ask you a question instead."

Marcos folded his arms.

"Go ahead."

"How much food do we have? How many people are injured? How much medication is available? How many exits can we use if something attacks this entrance?"

The man hesitated.

Mateo continued.

"Do you know how many people here have children? How many need regular medication? How much water we'll need by tomorrow morning?"

Marcos's expression hardened.

"We'll figure that out."

"Then you don't have a plan yet. You have a demand."

The crowd fell quiet.

Mateo did not raise his voice.

He did not need to.

"People are frightened. They want someone who can tell them what to do. If you can organize supplies, help count them. If you have emergency training, help the injured. But don't make people surrender everything they own just because you're willing to shout louder than everyone else."

For several seconds, Marcos said nothing.

Then he stepped closer.

"You think you can do better?"

"No. I think we should find out who can do what before deciding who should be in charge."

A woman near the medical station spoke up.

"I used to manage inventory for a hospital. I can help count supplies."

Another man raised his hand.

"I'm an electrician. I can check the backup generator."

The young man with the backpack lowered it slightly.

"My mother has diabetes. I have medication for her, but I can share the food."

The tension began to ease.

Marcos looked around and realized that the crowd was no longer waiting for his permission to speak.

He glared at Mateo.

"This isn't over."

Mateo held his gaze.

"No. It isn't."

Marcos walked away.

Mateo watched him go, uneasy rather than satisfied.

He had won a small argument, not solved the problem. Fear would remain, resources would grow scarce, and people would continue looking for someone who promised certainty.

He could not stop every conflict.

But perhaps he could help the people around him avoid making their situation worse.

As he returned to his family, he noticed a woman watching him from beside the medical station.

She was in her mid-twenties, with dark hair tied into a loose ponytail and a small medical kit hanging from her shoulder. Her expression was calm, but her eyes followed him with clear interest.

When he approached, she introduced herself.

"Lucía Serrano."

Mateo stopped.

For a moment, the noise of the shelter seemed to fade.

He knew that name.

Not because she had been famous before the Awakening, but because she would become one of the most important researchers studying Omega and the system behind it.

In his first life, Lucía had spent years investigating the relationship between mana and the strange structures found inside certain dungeons. Her work had helped uncover information that powerful organizations wanted to keep hidden.

She had also challenged Mateo more than once when he tried to make decisions for everyone around him.

He remembered their arguments.

He remembered the trust they had slowly built.

And he remembered the day he had last seen her alive.

He had never learned what happened to her after Hollow Crown Dungeon.

Now she stood before him, alive and unaware of the future he remembered.

"Have we met?" she asked.

Mateo realized he had been staring.

"No. Sorry."

"Then why do you look like you've just seen a ghost?"

He forced himself to smile.

"It's been a difficult day."

"That makes two of us."

Her gaze shifted toward the crowd near the entrance.

"You handled that argument well. You gave people a way to cooperate without asking them to blindly trust you."

Mateo shrugged.

"It seemed more useful than another fight."

"Most people don't think that clearly when they're frightened."

"Most people haven't had to learn the hard way."

Lucía studied him.

There was something familiar about her expression. She seemed to be weighing his words against details he had not realized he was revealing.

Then she asked, "Can I see your system status?"

Mateo stiffened.

"Why?"

"Because I've been documenting the changes since the Awakening began. Some people are receiving different classifications, and I want to understand why."

He hesitated.

He could refuse, but that would only make her more suspicious.

"Why are you interested in mine?"

"Because you were the only person I saw today who appeared to react to a system message before it became visible to anyone else."

Mateo's chest tightened.

She had noticed more than he expected.

Lucía lowered her voice.

"I also saw your eyes glow blue when you fought that creature."

Mateo stared at her.

"You saw that?"

"Briefly. I assumed it was a system effect, but your reaction afterward suggested otherwise."

She opened a small notebook.

"I'm not asking you to tell me everything. But if something unusual is happening to you, it might help us understand what's happening to everyone else."

Mateo considered her request.

In his first life, he had learned to distrust people who wanted to study his abilities. Some had treated him as a valuable resource. Others had seen him as a threat.

Lucía had never been one of them.

But he could not rely entirely on memories of a future that might no longer exist.

"All right," he said. "I'll show you my status. But I want you to tell me if you find anything unusual."

"Agreed."

Mateo focused on the system window.

It appeared before him.

Lucía could not see the text directly, so he read it aloud.

When he reached the final line, her expression changed.

"Anomalous Trait: Unclassified."

She repeated the words quietly.

"That's not a normal designation."

"You've seen something similar?"

"No. But I have a theory."

Mateo waited.

Lucía closed her notebook.

"I think the system is doing more than granting people abilities. It is trying to classify them according to rules we don't fully understand. If it can't classify your trait, either the trait is incomplete, or the rules it uses aren't sufficient to describe it."

Mateo felt a faint vibration in his chest.

He kept his expression neutral.

"Can you prove that?"

"Not yet."

"Then we shouldn't treat it as fact."

A small smile appeared on her face.

"Good. You understand the difference between a theory and a conclusion."

Mateo looked at her for a moment.

He had forgotten how much he appreciated that about her.

She was curious without being careless, skeptical without being dismissive, and willing to admit when she did not know something.

Those qualities would become rare in the world ahead.

"There's something else," he said.

Lucía waited.

"When I fought the creature, I saw a pattern beneath its armor. One area looked weaker than the rest. I don't know whether it was an ability or some kind of system analysis."

"Could you reproduce it?"

"I tried. It caused a severe headache."

"Then don't try again yet."

Her immediate response surprised him.

"You're not going to ask me to demonstrate it?"

"Not if it might injure you. We need to understand its limitations before testing it."

She considered his status window again.

"If the system calls it an unclassified trait, we shouldn't assume it works like an ordinary ability. We should record what happens naturally and avoid forcing it to activate."

Mateo nodded.

That was exactly what he needed to hear.

For the first time since his regression, he felt he might have found someone who could help him investigate the anomaly without treating it as a weapon to exploit.

But he did not tell her everything.

Not yet.

At 6:18 p.m., the system issued its first global announcement since the Awakening.

Every surviving screen in the parking structure flickered to life. The floating windows appeared before people who had no functioning devices, and conversations stopped as the message spread through the shelter.

GLOBAL SYSTEM ANNOUNCEMENT

The First Awakening is complete.

Humanity has entered the Initial Survival Phase.

Individual status records have been activated.

Mana circulation is now possible.

Warning: Unstable circulation may cause physical harm.

Recommended action: Rest, observe your status, and avoid uncontrolled mana expenditure.

A murmur spread through the crowd.

Some people cheered when they saw the word mana. Others looked frightened by the warning.

Mateo paid attention to the final line.

Avoid uncontrolled mana expenditure.

He remembered that warning. In his first life, many newly awakened people had attempted to force their mana circulation, hoping to unlock powerful abilities immediately.

Some had succeeded.

Others had damaged themselves before they understood what they were doing.

Mateo glanced at his own status window.

His cultivation rank remained unchanged.

Unawakened.

His mana circulation was still marked unstable.

He had survived the Stalker, but he had not gained the kind of strength he needed to face another one.

The thought frustrated him.

He had returned to the past with years of experience, but his body had not returned with them. His memories could guide his decisions, yet his muscles, reflexes, and mana capacity were those of a man who had not begun cultivation.

He would have to rebuild everything.

And this time, he could not rely on reckless ambition.

"Mateo."

Lucía stood beside him.

"Your status has changed."

He looked down.

A new line had appeared beneath his anomalous trait.

MANA RESPONSE: DETECTED

CIRCULATION PATTERN: IRREGULAR

WARNING: FURTHER ANALYSIS UNAVAILABLE

Mateo felt the pressure in his chest again.

It was stronger than before, but not painful.

For a moment, the familiar silver rings appeared in his vision. The dark center pulsed once, and a thin line of blue light spread outward.

Then a new message appeared.

ANOMALOUS TRAIT: PARTIAL SYNCHRONIZATION

FUNCTION: UNKNOWN

STABILITY: LOW

The window vanished before he could read anything else.

Mateo remained still.

Partial synchronization.

The words meant nothing to him, yet he suspected they were important.

Lucía had seen his expression.

"What happened?"

"Another message appeared."

"What did it say?"

He repeated the words.

She wrote them down immediately.

"Partial synchronization," she murmured. "That sounds as though your trait is interacting with something."

"Or the system is trying to describe something it doesn't understand."

"That too."

She looked up from her notebook.

"Either way, we should assume that using it carries a cost. You already experienced pain and loss of coordination. Until we understand more, you shouldn't rely on it during a fight."

Mateo nodded.

He had reached the same conclusion.

His strange perception had helped him identify the Stalker's weakness, but it had not made him stronger. It had only given him information, and even that information had come at a price.

He would need training, better equipment, and a clearer understanding of his own limitations.

He would also need people he could trust.

Mateo looked across the shelter.

Gabriel was speaking with a volunteer who had asked him to help move a box of medical supplies. Sofía was showing another survivor how to access the system's basic status window.

Neither of them was waiting for Mateo to tell them what to do.

They were finding their own ways to contribute.

A quiet warmth settled in his chest, stronger than the strange vibration.

Perhaps protecting them did not mean standing between them and every danger.

Perhaps it meant helping them become capable of facing those dangers themselves.

The realization did not erase his fear.

It gave him something better.

A direction.

Later that night, Mateo found a quiet corner near the far wall of the parking structure.

He sat on a folded blanket, closed his eyes, and tried to sense the mana circulating through his body.

He remembered the basic breathing techniques taught during Omega's tutorial. In the game, players had used them to improve concentration and regulate their virtual mana. After the Awakening, the same principles could help people begin real circulation.

But the process was not automatic.

Mateo inhaled slowly.

He imagined the faint energy gathering near his abdomen, then moving outward through his limbs.

Nothing happened.

He tried again.

A slight warmth spread through his hands.

Then a sharp ache developed beneath his ribs.

He stopped immediately.

The system warning returned to his thoughts.

Circulation pattern: Irregular.

He could not force his way through this problem.

He needed patience.

Mateo leaned back against the wall and allowed his breathing to settle. He would start with short sessions and record the results. He would learn how his body responded before attempting anything more demanding.

The Echo Core—or whatever the strange trait truly was—would have to wait.

He had no proof that it was a core at all.

Calling it one would only encourage him to believe he understood it.

He closed his eyes again, this time without trying to force the mana to move.

A faint sensation appeared in the darkness behind his eyelids.

Three silver rings.

A fractured center.

Then, for the briefest moment, he saw a line of text.

CONNECTION INCOMPLETE.

Mateo opened his eyes.

The image disappeared.

His heart was beating faster, but he felt no pain.

He sat in silence, considering what he had seen.

The system had not identified his trait. It had not explained his regression. And it had not told him why the symbol inside his chest resembled the pattern he had encountered in Hollow Crown Dungeon.

All he had were questions.

But questions could be investigated.

He looked toward the entrance, where the distant sounds of the city drifted through the open doors.

The world outside had changed beyond recognition in a single afternoon.

Tomorrow would bring new dangers, new choices, and consequences he could not predict.

Mateo would need to become stronger.

He would need to understand the system.

And he would need to accept that the future he remembered was no longer a guarantee.

He rose from the blanket and returned to his family.

Gabriel was asleep beside their bags. Sofía had finally put away her tablet, though she still held her notebook against her chest. Lucía sat nearby, reviewing her observations in the dim light.

She looked up when Mateo approached.

"Any progress?"

"Not much."

"That's still progress."

Mateo smiled faintly.

"You're surprisingly patient."

"Only when the problem is interesting."

He sat beside her.

For a while, neither of them spoke.

Then Lucía closed her notebook.

"Whatever happens next, don't try to solve everything alone."

Mateo looked at her.

The words felt uncomfortably familiar.

He remembered hearing something similar from her years later, after he had made another decision without consulting anyone. Back then, he had dismissed her warning.

He would not make that mistake again.

"I'll try," he said.

Lucía studied him, then nodded.

"That's a start."

Mateo leaned back and looked at the ceiling.

For the first time since waking in the past, he allowed himself to believe that his second life might become more than an attempt to correct his mistakes.

It might become a chance to make different ones.

Outside, the blue sky had finally darkened, but strange lights still moved between the clouds.

The First Awakening was over.

Humanity's real struggle had begun.

And somewhere within Mateo Álvarez, an unknown connection had started to form.

It was unstable.

It was incomplete.

And it had only just begun to respond.