Reever and Elderwood had barely taken a few steps away from the Mayor's building when Elderwood broke the silence. The city noise surrounded them, players passing by in different armors, drones floating overhead, and system notifications popping in and out of sight, yet Elderwood's tone made it feel like the world had quieted just for them.
"I am not sure if you already know this," Elderwood said, scratching the back of his head as he walked, "but even if you do, there is no harm in hearing it again."
Reever glanced at him. Elderwood rarely sounded this careful with his words.
"I know you are aware of the ranking system," Elderwood continued, his hands moving as he spoke, as if arranging thoughts in the air. "From Rookie upward, ranking up usually means one thing. You meet the requirements, the system sets a rank up match, and if you pass, you move on."
Reever nodded slightly, staying quiet. He already knew this much, but he let Elderwood speak.
"For Rookie and Veteran ranks," Elderwood went on, "the requirements are simple. Enough experience points, decent combat ability, and mental strength that proves you are not going to collapse under pressure. Nothing complicated. Most people can handle it with time."
His pace slowed, and his voice changed. Not dramatic, but heavier.
"But things change once you approach the Elite ranks."
Reever's attention sharpened.
"Elite players are different," Elderwood said. "They gain access to skills, professions, and systems that affect the world in ways lower ranks never touch. Skills can make or break you. They are power, but they are also responsibility, whether people like to admit it or not."
Reever finally spoke. "Skills have ranks too."
"Exactly," Elderwood said, pointing at him. "Just like weapons, armor, and gadgets. Skills can be upgraded, refined, and strengthened. They can come from boss drops, player loot, system rewards, or rare events."
He paused for a moment, then smiled awkwardly.
"But before I go further, let me say this clearly," Elderwood added. "Weapon skills and armor effects are not your skills. The moment you lose the gear, those abilities disappear. A real skill stays with you."
Reever processed that silently. It was something he had never fully separated in his mind, especially since so much of his power came from equipment.
Elderwood stopped walking.
"There is something else," he said, turning toward Reever. "And this part is important."
Reever halted as well.
Elderwood cleared his throat, then said in a strangely serious tone, one that did not fit his usual personality.
"Life is never fair. But the world is."
The words hung between them.
Reever frowned at first. The sentence sounded simple, almost empty, but something about it lingered. Elderwood did not rush to explain. He gave Reever time.
At first, Reever felt confused. Then slowly, the meaning started to take shape in his mind.
Life was what individuals experienced. Pain, joy, success, failure, loss, love. The things that happened without asking permission. People were born rich or poor. Strong or weak. Lucky or cursed. Some lived long lives while others barely had time to breathe before everything ended. Life did not balance itself. It never promised fairness.
The world, however, was something else.
The world did not care who suffered or who smiled. It did not favor individuals. It enforced balance in its own cold way. For someone to rise, another had to fall. For someone to be praised, another had to be overlooked. Strength existed because weakness existed. Wealth existed because poverty existed.
The world did not choose sides. It simply allowed outcomes.
Reever realized something then. People blamed the world for their suffering when they should have blamed life. The world only provided the stage. Life decided the roles.
That was why the statement made sense.
Life was cruel and personal.
The world was indifferent and equal.
Those who changed history were not people who fought the world. They were people who understood it and learned how to move within its rules. The world allowed exceptions, but it never broke balance. If someone gained something extraordinary, something else was taken somewhere else.
Reever thought about himself.
Being turned into a bot was cruel. No human would ever call that fair. The restrictions, the control, the lack of basic freedoms, all of it was unbearable. Life had dealt him a terrible hand.
And yet, because he was a bot, he had access to things human players could only dream of. A mystique weapon far beyond his rank. An epic title that should not exist at his level. Enhanced growth potential hidden behind restrictions.
Life had hurt him.
The world had compensated him.
That was the balance.
By the time Elderwood spoke again, Reever was already listening carefully.
"That statement," Elderwood said, "is the reason skills exist the way they do."
Reever looked at him.
"Most players think skills are something everyone gets the same way," Elderwood continued. "They are wrong."
He leaned closer and lowered his voice.
"Some players are born with skills."
Reever stopped breathing for a second.
"What?" he said quietly.
"I am serious," Elderwood replied. "There are Rookies who enter the game already carrying a skill ingrained in them. No drops. No bosses. No system gift announcement. It is just there."
Reever's mind raced. If his face had been visible, his reaction would have been obvious, but the armor hid everything.
"And others," Elderwood added, "search for years and never get one."
Reever clenched his fingers slowly.
"That is not fair," he said.
Elderwood smiled faintly. "To life, yes. To the world, no."
Reever understood.
If some were born with skills, then others were born without them. Balance remained intact. The advantage was offset somewhere else. Maybe in danger. Maybe in cost. Maybe in fate.
"Elite rank advancement tests take this into account," Elderwood continued. "The system checks not just strength, but compatibility. Mental stability. Adaptability. Whether you can handle power without breaking."
Reever thought of the player who had slaughtered bots without effort. Strength without restraint. Power without balance.
"And that," Elderwood said, "is why Elite rank is where most people fail."
Reever exhaled slowly.
For the first time since coming back to this timeline, he felt like he truly understood the shape of the road ahead. Not because it was explained to him, but because it finally made sense.
Skills were not gifts.
They were consequences.
And the world never handed out consequences without expecting payment.