He sat back up and turned to the next page. Unlike the rainbow of colors the sin pages had this one was black, just like the first and second pages. The same blood red ink glowed across it. He leaned in and started reading.
════════════════════════════════
PAGE THE TENTH — Of the Seven Seales & Their Leaves (BLACK)
Marke this, O Bearer: seven are the Rootes of Power, and seven are their proper hues. Each Sin hath his owne leafe, wherein are written degrees, boons, and perils. When thou committest a deed befitting a Sin, write it in blood within foure-and-twentie houres; the leafe shall reckon thy portion and open further lines. All acts of Sin that thou recordest shall be mark'd against thy name upon the Bearer's page, and the inke thereof is thy bloud.
Of Degrees Deedes are weighed E, D, C, B, A, S, EX, according unto:
Risk (the peril thou didst abide)Transgression (how forbidden was the act)Witnesse (how many saw or knew)Impact (what was chang'd or overturn'd)Weight (the power or estate of the one offended)
Note: Publick triumphs weigh much for Pride; thefts of high value weigh much for Greed; bindings of willing heart weigh much for Lust; and so forth according to each Sin's nature.
Of Advancement Each Sin hath levels, and at set degrees boons are made manifest. Abilities proper to a Sin are granted only when that Sin-Bearer is levell'd to the due marke, and purchas'd with the proper points of that selfsame Sin.
The fruit of Pride is won upon Pride's leafe with Pride-Points (PSP)The fruit of Greed is won upon Greed's leafe with Greed-Points (GSP)And so with Lust (LSP), Envy (ESP), Wrath (WSP), Gluttony (GLSP), Sloth (SSP)
These stores are not interchang'd betwixt leaves, save where the Book declareth otherwise.
Of the Exchange & Ratios The measure of Experience within each Sin is chang'd to points after the rate here writ:
Pride: 10:1 (PSP)Greed: 8:1 (GSP)Lust: 5:1 (LSP)Envy: 6:1 (ESP)Wrath: 9:1 (WSP)Gluttony: 7:1 (GLSP)Sloth: 10:1 (SSP)
Of the Ledger & the Writing
Log to Claime: Thou shalt record each deed within foure-and-twentie houres; else the reward is halvedUnwrit Deedes: What is not set to bloud within seven dayes earneth no due at allFraud of Inke: If thou liest in the writing, the letters blacken and scourge thy flesh; thy reward is forfeit, and the leafe is seal'd against thee for a season
Of Quests & Charges At sundry levels the leaves issue Quests fit for their nature. Fulfil the Charge within the time appointed, and receive extra Experience, points, and sometimes a Unique boon; faile, and the leafe withdraweth favour for a little while.
Of Revelations When thou performest a deed of rare degree (S or EX) according unto a Sin, the Book may bud a new page after that leafe, revealing a Revelation a secret boon tailor'd unto the manner of thy act. Such pages are singular and binde thee closely unto the Sin that birth'd them.
Of Markes Upon the Bearer For every five levels of advancement, a marke manifesteth upon the Bearer's flesh as intricate tattoos or sigils reflecting their committed sins. These permanent markes appeare wherever the Book deemeth fitting, with designe and symbolisme corresponding to the Bearer's written sins. Such markes cannot be remov'd by mortall meanes and grow more elaborate with each milestone.
Of Balance Be not glutted with one Sin only; for imbalance breedeth chaines. Pride without measure is hubris, Greed unbridled plucketh wrath, Lust neglected turneth treacherous; and so of the rest. Choose thou aright; for by thy sins thou ascendest, and by thy sins thou art bound.
Thus speaketh the Book.
════════════════════════════════
"Hmm. So this is how it all works and what it means to be a bearer of this book," he murmured. He wasn't sure what to think at this moment but something about it felt familiar. The whole system was laid out almost like a character ability setup from an anime or a manga. He'd read enough novels and manga to understand how these things worked. Being gifted a power, leveling up, unlocking new abilities. Not that he was complaining. Getting this book wasn't a bad thing. If anything it made things easier. But the main question was still the same. Was any of it real?
He knew he should believe all of it by this point. The book knew his name. It bled him for ink. It had stats that matched his life down to the last detail. But there was still this doubt sitting in the back of his mind that wouldn't go away. What if all of this was fake? There was no logical way to explain any of it or even begin to understand how it worked. And the Early Modern English was going to be a problem. He wondered if he'd have to dig deeper into history just to make sense of what the book was telling him.
"Guess I'll figure it out along the way," he muttered. He pressed his thumb to the corner and turned to the next page.
════════════════════════════════
PAGE THE ELEVENTH — Of First Fruits, Degrees, and the Ascent (BLACK)
Marke this, O Bearer: the Book rewardeth promptly, yet only by what is duly written in bloud. Faile to record, and thy deed is as naught.
Of the First Fruit & Uniques of the Book
First Fruit: Commit any one Sin and set it in bloud; the Book granteth a Unique skill tied unto the Book it selfe once only, as a first-time boon.Seasons of Uniques: Thereafter, a Book-Unique Skill may be bestow'd only at every fifth Level (Lv 5, 10, 15, 20…). If thou miss the season, it waiteth till the next fifth.Inclination: The Unique tendeth toward the Sin most lately or most mightily used; thou mayst petition in the margin, yet the judgment is the Book.
Present Estate: Book-Bearer: Level 1 — 0 / 100GX. No Unique yet; next season at Lv 5.
Of Degrees & Their Reward (Experience) Deedes are weighed E, D, C, B, A, S, EX. Their Global Experience (GX) is render'd thus:
B-grade: 20 GX (the common measure)A-grade: twice the B measure → 40 GXS-grade: thrice the B measure → 60 GXEX-grade: the whole sum of GX (after other adders) is multiplied ×3C, D, E pay the lesser measure (less than B) as the leafe shall note
Adders that may increase reward: Publick Witnesse, Peril, Impact, and Weight of the Offended. Log to Claime: Write within foure-and-twentie houres, else all reward is halved. Silence is Forfeiture: If the sin be not recorded, it shall not be counted.
Of Sin-Points & Increase of Stats
Earning SP: Each deed payeth Sin-Points which can be used and be converted into any sins-experience according to its set ratio.Stat Enhancement: The Bearer may increase his base Stats by +1 for each 10 Sin-Points spent (10:1). These points are consumed and gone.Use of SP: Sin-specific abilities are bought with the leafe's particular points; other leaves cannot use other points for it.
Of Quests
Leafe-Quests: At sundry Sin-Levels, a leafe issueth a Quest befitting its nature. Fulfil for a Unique reward; faile, and thou losest thy right to the Book.
Of Corruption & the Mortall Veile
Corruption: 0% (at thy beginning)Transformation: At 100%, full corruption maketh the Bearer transcend mortall flesh—gaining a crown'd forme of Sin.
Short Rule of Thumb
Commit Sin → Write in Bloud → Gaine GX & SPB = 20 GX; A = 2×; S = 3×; EX = (total) ×3Every 10 SP = +1 to any base StatFirst Unique now; next at Lv 5; thereafter each fifth LevelUnwritten = Uncounted
Thus speaketh the Book.
════════════════════════════════
Isaac's eyes traced the last line of the book, his breath shaky. There was still so much he didn't understand. And yet as he reached the end he realized something. This was the final written page.
Everything beyond it was stark white. He flipped through a few of the blank pages and it clicked. "I guess these are the pages I'm supposed to write the sins on once I commit them."
He closed the book and set it down on the bed. Then he stood up and walked over to the window. The rain had slowed to a drizzle now, the drops barely tapping against the glass. The sky was still dark but it looked like it was clearing up. He leaned his shoulder against the window frame and stared out at the wet street below.
The truth of what this book was really asking of him pressed down with a chilling weight. Every entry had to be written in blood. He glanced back toward the bed where the quill lay beside the book. Even from here he could see the tip glowing faintly, the tendril pulsing like something alive. No matter how many times he looked at that thing it never stopped giving him the creeps. The hair on his arms stood on end just from watching it twitch. But beyond all of that the fact that the book needed his blood just to function was enough proof on its own that this thing wasn't normal
But how would it actually work? He understood the concept. Commit a sin, write it down in blood, gain power. Simple enough. But how much blood would he have to give this thing every time he wrote in it? Would it eventually drain him dry? He pictured himself withered and pale, bled out over a book no one would ever find. That sure was a dark way to go.
He pressed his forehead against the cool glass and watched a car pass below, its headlights cutting through the mist. The whole thing felt like something that belonged to a cult. Blood rituals, ancient text, sins etched into your soul. All it was missing was a hooded figure standing in the corner telling him to kneel.
But none of that changed how he felt. If blood was the price for power then he'd pay it. Gladly.
His thoughts spun wildly, dizzy from hunger and exhaustion. What kind of power would it actually give him? What if this really worked? The idea wasn't terrifying anymore. It was exhilarating. This wasn't just about survival. This was a way to change everything.
For a while now he had endured. Beaten. Ignored. Belittled. He could have fought back. Could have flipped the table on all of them. But there was never any point. He didn't have the drive to change the way he was living. There was no reward to it. Only pain. He'd just tell himself he could get through it. Just one more day. But now? Now it felt like a dam had burst inside him and the flood of everything he'd been holding back was roaring free.
He pushed off the window frame and turned back toward the bed. The book sat there glowing faintly in the dim light. He looked at it and something between a smile and a snarl crossed his face.
Then Isaac threw his head back and laughed. It was jagged and raw, the kind of laughter that sounded more like madness than joy. It echoed through the hollow marble halls of the estate. Bitter. Triumphant. The sound of a boy who had finally found something worth fighting for.
Downstairs Victoria and Emily froze at the sound. Emily sneered, curling her lip.
"Guess he finally lost it."
Victoria's voice was colder than stone. "Leave him be. When his father comes back he'll answer for it."
Emily smirked. "You're right, Mom."
But upstairs Isaac's laughter had already cracked and faded into silence. The blood he'd fed to the book had left him weak. His head was spinning and his vision was darkening at the edges. He tried to steady himself but his body wouldn't listen. His legs gave out and he stumbled back toward the bed. He collapsed against the pillow and before he knew it his eyes were already closing. The last thing he saw was the book beside him, its glow slowly dimming until the crimson faded to black. Then everything went dark.