Together, they hunted through the night, with Zavier absorbing all the lessons on stalking and killing that Maisy could teach him. In a moment of inspiration he added her to his party and gave a quiet whoop of excitement when it worked. She wasn't able to talk to him through the connection, but he did receive a sort of instinctual and emotional telepathy and she seemed perfectly able to understand his words. This significantly sped up the training process and helped him understand when he was learning the lesson she was trying to impart. He wasn't sure if they would be useful with his fighting style since he didn't have the physical stats to overpower or out-speed many of the higher-level creatures, but it was useful to learn the tactics. The tactics fell into two categories: stealthy sneak attacks meant to immediately lock down and incapacitate the enemy, or rapid flurries of attacks that looked random but were, in fact, all meant to either temporarily drive an enemy back or wear them down with repeated feints and slashes until a vital strike could be made.
Whatever the method, the common thread was that there was no holding back. It was a Machiavellian fighting style that aimed to achieve victory without considering the prey's feelings on the matter for even a moment. This was something that wouldn't have seemed significant to Zavier before, but it was a revelation in the middle of a fight. When humans fought - even in life-and-death situations - they still considered what the other person might have been thinking or what their motivations were. If you were losing, there was the question of what you could do to earn mercy, and if you were winning, there was the consideration of how far you actually needed to go to win. Did the person really deserve to die? Did they have a family? Could they learn their lesson from this if you showed them mercy instead?
These considerations were so far from Maisy's mind as to be nonexistent. There were only two outcomes to a fight: defeat the opponent so thoroughly that a response was impossible, or find a way to retreat and survive. There was no pride, no posturing, no wondering if the opponent would let you live, no concern about whether you should let them live, no shame for having to flee. You killed them, they got away, or you got away. What he found most fascinating is that there was not even a glimmer of thought spared for the potential of dying. You engaged in a fight if you had a reason to, you avoided it if you didn't or if you thought you might lose. But even when considering the potential loss of the encounter, death never entered her mind. Well, her death anyway. Death of the prey was always foremost in her mind.
This was a revelation as freeing as anything Zavier had learned in his life before. There was no hesitation due to fear. Fear was the mechanism by which she reacted, making it a useful tool and no more. It was something that lent her speed, clarity, and a little extra danger when the situation called for it, then it was instantly forgotten the moment the danger had passed. Viewing it through this lens Zavier realized how much of his life had been spent living in fear. Fear of what could happen to him and his family, fear of losing his job, fear of becoming broke again. He loved planning but it occurred to him that part of the planning was a fear response that was trying to predict what might happen, and be ready for it when it did.
What if I didn't need that? What if I could just act? Not in every situation, of course, he didn't have the luxury of being a purely instinctual creature, but what if he could let himself go during these moments of life and death? Of struggle? He could show up ready to win or flee, with no other thoughts or emotions to distract him. Concepts like mercy, forgiveness, second chances, and pride could be disregarded entirely and he could give himself in to intent, focus, and the strategies and reactions needed to win.
He felt a warm glow of approval come through the connection and he looked down to see Maisy head butt his leg with a soft purr. "Well then, Chica," he said to her, "let's go tear this place up."
Maisy ran next to him, falling back each time they came close to prey to allow him to run ahead. He was still dumb, but not quite as much as before. He was learning to pad through the woods silently and had become a terror with those claws he wore. When they encountered Arcane Scamperers he flashed seemingly in every direction at once, pushing one's face away while swiping at another's throat with the claws. Then he was off to another, his movements would seem erratic to anyone watching, but every cat would recognize the way he was keeping them outside of harm's reach until he could strike precisely where it would be the most effective. Humans always tried to finish one opponent completely before moving on to another, but she was training him out of that. Keep all of them away and punish any that came too close. Once the odds were back in your favor, pounce and bite and slash with all the fury you could muster because the time to hold back was not at the end. When death came near the prey fought harder and more viciously, so you had to take them down before they could get in a lucky strike or flee. He was learning this and she flipped her tail in satisfaction as the last of the squirrels turned to run, only for Zavier to leap on its back and bury the claw in the pulsing vein in its throat.
He pivoted to her, a feral smile on his face, then turned to run into the woods again. She jumped in front of him and blocked his run with her body. She bumped him in a motion that meant 'turn around' and flooded the chat interface with the impression of the sun coming up, sleeping, and cleaning oneself. He tried to push past her so she gave him a light swat, claws retracted, to remind him who the Prime was here. He stumbled but regained his feet, then whipped around at her. She stared him down, body language radiating calm confidence. Kittens sometimes got caught up in the kills - it was important to be unwavering in your dominance, but not to respond with unnecessary violence that would only get their predatory instincts inflamed. They stared each other down and Maisy let her front claws extend just past the fur of her paws, just enough to communicate that she wouldn't be entertaining any disobedience.
The kitten wasn't totally dumb, though, and he sighed, his body language relaxing. He shook his shoulders and stretched his arms.
"You're right, you're right. I got two levels anyway, that's plenty for tonight. Let's head back before the family wakes up and wonders if I've died."
They walked back unmolested. The two of them had cleared out everything in this area and anything left was smart enough to leave well enough alone. Zavier continued walking on the balls of his feet and wouldn't relax until he was back on mowed grass, but his mind was on his gains. He was now level seven and had six points to distribute. He considered adding them to agility or strength, the fighting tonight had shown him just how powerful those attributes could be.
But he wasn't trying to become a fighter. He needed to understand The System and needed to unlock more skills and abilities. The more intelligent he became the stronger he could become through picking up advantages, skills, and insights that no one else had. With that, he dumped all of the points into intelligence, bringing it up to 21. The instant he did that he got an alert that stopped him in his tracks. Maisy froze next to him, her tail coming up in an instant to balance as she scanned the area around them. He sent a flash of contentment and patience, letting her know that he hadn't sensed danger, then focused on the message.
** WARNING: Human stats have a cap of 20 for the first 10 levels. Exceeding this level is dangerous and can have detrimental or unforeseen consequences to the user, as their body is unable to cope with the strains of excess energy at these levels. For the safety of the user the Intelligence stat has been reduced to 20. You have one additional point to allot. **
Zavier growled in annoyance at this and pushed the point back into Intelligence.
** WARNING: You are overriding safety measures. This boundary is set for your own protection. **
The voice took on an emotional tone Zavier hadn't heard before. It had changed and sounded like a gestalt of the standard System announcement voice and The Architect.
"Zavier, this is dangerous. Your current physical limitations do not have the capacity required to properly meter this level of energy."
"Will it kill me or make me brain dead?" Zavier asked.
There was a pause and Zavier could swear he felt himself being scanned. The voice replied hesitantly, "It would appear not, but these limitations are set for the safety of your race. This is a dangerous precedent to set. If you just wait until level 10 the epigenetic changes will be complete and you'll be able to put points wherever you see fit."
"Well," Zavier replied, "you wanted me to be unprecedented. I am in control of my evolution. I am doing this." He put the point back into Intelligence. "Now, is there anything I should be immediately warned about beyond the generic concern?"
Another pause. "We… we don't think so. Just use caution. Human emotions, responses, and potential are all heavily influenced by that person's intelligence. Simulations indicate more potentially dangerous outcomes than beneficial, but nothing that is immediately apparent."
"Can you give me any tips on how to make the beneficial outcomes more likely?" Zavier asked.
The voice chuckled. "No, that is your burden to discover or not. You've been given the ability to define your own path. What you do with that is up to you."
With that the voice was gone and Zavier cleared his screens. He did a quick internal scan but nothing felt amiss. He shrugged off the warnings and continued walking home.
They stepped into the yard and Zavier felt tension flood out of him. Maisy bumped him one last time then, in an incredible leap, landed silently on the roof and found a patch in the rising sunlight to curl up in. He smiled and shook his head then went inside.