Aunt M blew a puff of chalk dust off the table, sending glowing motes spiralling into the air of Halfway Hold, and continued to sketch away. Watching her work felt both ridiculous and also strangely profound. Not unlike like watching someone perform open-heart surgery with a butter knife. If the operating table started to shake and glow with every new mark made upon it.

"Aunt M, are you absolutely sure this isn't going to explode?" I said.

"Explode? Honestly, Eli. If I wanted you to explode, there are infinitely simpler ways. And ones that are far less chalk-intensive. Come on, budge up!" She said, bumping me with her hip as she moved around the table, still sketching.

I allowed myself to be budged up.

She worked away for a few more moments and then settled back, head tilted in consideration. "Right. That's a start. Let the hunter see the rabbit." Then she tapped the table firmly, causing the myriad of chalk lines to flare brighter.

I gave a little start as strange symbols appeared beneath the layers of looping diagrams and scrawled equations. It looked like abstract graffiti, maths problems, and ancient script had been thrown into a blender.

"What exactly is it you are doing?"

"Hmmm?" she said, looking up at me as if she had forgotten I was there. "Ah, yes. It would be worth your learning a little about this. Not for now, certainly. But all being well, this will be the sort of naughtiness you can get up to in time."

Aunt M cleared her throat and, in her best 'teacher' voice, began pointing to various points on the fiercely glowing table. "The first thing to remember is that subclass selection is all about making the most of available lattice structures. A lattice, as you know, defines probabilities, potentials and limits. Now, thanks to Forsyth's little bit of interference, your class options thus far have been rather predictable. Solid? Yes. Respectable even. But safe. Entirely too safe if you ever hope to follow in my footsteps."

"I feel I should point out that I've nearly died multiple times."

"Yes, but in entirely safe ways. At worst, you've had predictably near-death experiences. Boringly dangerous enough that I'm sure the Maker was quite delighted."

"Boringly dangerous? Aunt M, I took down a whole Rebel assault all on my own!"

She waved a dismissive hand, almost knocking off her oversized glasses. "Yes, yes. Well done, you! Really, this is like when you were nine and kept going on and on about what a big willy you had. As I said to you at the time, we're all very impressed, but perhaps keep it to yourself until you're older. Now, where was I? Ah, yes. What you will be requiring in a subclass is danger, but with panache. Risk and reward. I rather fear that your current trajectory is likely to be somewhat pedestrian. Big man hit things with a stick. No one ever reached the position of Guardian with such an approach. Thus, what I need to do here," she gestured grandly at the increasingly glowing symbols, "is an exercise in applied chaos theory."

"Chaos theory?"

"Exactly! Just a small tweak here and there, a little nudge perhaps, and we should be able to cascade the entire Iron Provocateur lattice into something entirely more suitable. Something more… you."

I have to say, I quite liked the sound of that.

Precisely," Aunt M said, seeing the smile on my face. "Say what you like about you, Eli, but even my fool of a sister would agree that you are a pragmatist at heart. You are extremely inventive, and you have a moral flexibility which is quite refreshing. However, what you are not, my dear, is a martyr. You don't have hinterland for it. Nor, I should say, are you a regretful sack of sorrow. And you're certainly not a walking brick wall—though you have the shoulders for it. That's what having the good Meddings genes does for you. You, Eli, do what's necessary. Occasionally, what's unnecessary, for sure, but always thoroughly interesting."

I wasn't entirely sure how to take that.

Aunt M prodded one particularly dense cluster of symbols, which scattered under her fingertip, and rearranged themselves like startled insects, forming entirely new shapes.

"Interesting!" she said, grinning broadly. "Eli, my boy, quick question. When you picture yourself in combat, what feels most natural? Leading a furious charge, rallying others to hold ground, or just going murderhobo and causing maximum chaos?"

I hesitated. "I… haven't really thought about it, Aunt M. I've been a bit busy trying to stay alive."

"Well, now's the time to think about it. Honestly, boy, your instincts matter in this sort of thing. Right now, you're making do. Improvising, yes, but also, you've been quite reactionary. I want to remedy that and push your identity forward."

I thought back to my recent encounters. I'd been in more than a few brutal scrapes with desperate, last-minute tackles and chaotic slaughter that seemed more about keeping the momentum going than actually planning. I wasn't comfortable with that sort of action, if I was honest. Holding ground felt right, but it wasn't just about staying still; it was about controlling, managing the chaos around me.

"I suppose I… like shaping the fight," I said slowly. "Directing how things happen. Not just reacting to what the bad guys are doing, but trying to set up the action on my terms."

Aunt M smiled, eyes glinting in triumph. "Perfect. You see! You can do this when you try. Yes indeed. You're not just a provocateur with negative charisma, Eli. You're a conductor."

"A conductor?"

"Yes. You have the capacity to orchestrate chaos. You aren't just seeking to survive your fights, you want to shape that survival. Now, I reckon that would be a subclass worth bending rules for."

Aunt M immediately resumed her scribbling with renewed energy. The symbols shifted faster now, cycling rapidly through configuration after configuration. The air above the table began crackling with power. There was a somewhat manic glint in her eye as she worked.

Stolen novel; please report.

"Hang, are you creating me a subclass based on conducting chaos?"

"Exactly!" Aunt M said. "Instead of being at the mercy of random forces, I want you to have some tools to manage them. Remember, aggression isn't just a problem to be solved, it's energy to be harnessed. You're going to need Abilities to help you direct the flow. Channel it. And most importantly, weaponise it right back in their faces!"

It was a wild thought, made all the wilder by tiny little Aunt M being the one who articulated it.

"I'm not sure what it should be called yet," she said, nudging a reluctant rune into place. "Names, after all, are tricky blighters. They shape expectations. We need something here that speaks clearly to who you are, what you do, and doesn't sound depressingly fatalistic." Her chalk paused. She looked directly at me, her expression suddenly serious. "It needs a name that tells everyone you're here to manage trouble, not merely endure it."

I nodded slowly, half-expecting the table to start smoking at any moment.

She pursed her lips thoughtfully. "How about 'Ironclad? It implies authority without excessive pretension. You're the one in control, calling the shots amidst the chaos."

"That sounds… pretty cool," I said.

"Good!" she said, resuming her enthusiastic scribbling. Symbols swirled eagerly beneath her fingertips, now clustering into more stable, defined forms. Watching Aunt M work, it occurred to me that beneath her seemingly scattershot approach was a frightening clarity of purpose. She wasn't just adjusting my subclass; she was actively reinforcing my identity.

"So," she said, voice slightly distracted, "with your subclass defined as Ironclad, we'll focus on abilities centred around battlefield management. It would be helpful if your Aggro Magnetism didn't just pull everything; we need to help you redirect aggression, misdirect attacks, and manipulate the flow of combat. That feels suitable to how you used to be, doesn't it?"

"It does," I said, feeling oddly pleased by her assessment.

She glanced up briefly, eyes narrowing in thought. "Your Aggro Magnetism is effective, but passive. We can enhance it, granting you more control over how and when enemies respond. Let's give you… let's see, Tactical Provocation. It'll allow you to selectively amplify hostility from specific foes, letting you herd opponents around the battlefield."

"I could certainly work with that," I said, imagining the possibilities.

"Exactly! Less compliant meat-shield and a bit more of a puppet-master. Not just absorbing punishment for its own sake, but letting you shape encounters too. To that end, I think we also need an ability that lets you capitalise on enemy mistakes. Something like Opportunistic Counter – I had that Ability myself – so whenever an enemy misses or is disrupted, you can trigger an immediate retaliation."

"Awesome!"

"Pragmatically vicious, Eli! Mistakes must have consequences. It'll discourage recklessness from enemies and reward your tactical awareness. Now, let's give you something broader, a little bit of field control. We'll call it the Zone of Authority. Mark an area, impose penalties on enemies inside it, and bonuses for you. It'll serve as your combat anchor, a point from which you manage the chaos."

The chalk flared again, symbols locking firmly into their new shapes. Aunt M leaned back slightly, surveying her work with a critical eye.

"Almost there," she said, thoughtfully, "but we need one more element to round it out. Something that fits your lovable unpredictability. An ace in your sleeve for emergencies, if you will. Hmm."

She drummed her fingers lightly, then snapped them decisively. "We'll call it Controlled Catastrophe. You can expend significant Stamina and Health to unleash a brief burst of chaos, random debilitating effects on all nearby enemies. It's risky, certainly, but that suits your style perfectly. High stakes, calculated reward."

"You can really do this?"

"Absolutely," she said with a grin. "Of course, there's going to be some trade-offs, but I think you'll be able to make them work."

I opened my mouth to ask a bit more about these 'trade-offs', but Aunt M was already moving on. "Right. Let's lock these in before the lattice destabilises. Stand back a bit—this part can get twitchy."

I stepped back hurriedly, suddenly recalling her earlier assurance about explosions. Aunt M's expression grew intense as she tapped several complex symbols in rapid succession. The glowing chalk lines erupted into brilliant arcs of light, shooting upward to converge above the table. Reality itself seemed to shiver briefly, flexing under the strain.

When the glare finally faded, the chalk lines settled into steady, elegant patterns etched deeply into the table. They pulsed slowly, rhythmically, as if breathing.

"There we are," Aunt M said, beaming triumphantly. "One Ironclad subclass, perfectly tailored for my favourite nephew. Let's pull it up and take a closer look, shall we?"

[System Character Sheet - Update]

Name: Elijah Meddings Class: Iron Provocateur Subclass: Ironclad Level: 6 Title Pathway: [Warden Channel] Defiant. Noted by the Maker. Threshold Anchor: [Halfway Hold - Anchorfall] System Integration: Sanctuary Status: Accepted

[Core Vitality Metrics Recalibrated] Health: 48 ↳ [Base: 30 | Class Bonus: +5 | Set bonus: +13] Health Regeneration: 7/hour ↳ [Stubborn Constitution (Lvl 4) effect reduced slightly] Stamina: 50 ↳ [Base: 28 | Class Bonus: +7 | Set bonus: +15] Stamina Regeneration: 5/hour ↳ [Resilience trait synergy reduced slightly] Mana: 10 Mana Regeneration: 1/hour ↳ [Origin trait detected. Purpose: Unknown]

[Primary Attributes Adjusted] Strength: 9 Agility: 8 Speed: 2 Endurance: 14 Intelligence: 6 Wisdom: 5 Charisma: -5 Luck: 3 Unassigned Progress Points: 0

[Subclass Abilities Added]

Tactical Provocation - Level 1 (Active) Cooldown: 35 seconds Selectively amplify hostility of a chosen enemy. Target is forced to attack you exclusively for 8 seconds and receives -10% Accuracy during that duration.

Opportunistic Counter - Level 1 (Passive) Triggers immediate retaliation strike when enemy within melee range misses an attack or suffers disruption. Counterstrike deals moderate damage scaling with Strength and Endurance.

Zone of Authority - Level 1 (Active) Cooldown: 90 seconds Mark a 5-metre radius zone for 10 seconds. Enemies within zone suffer -10% Speed and Defence; you gain +10% Damage Mitigation and +5% Accuracy while standing within.

Controlled Catastrophe - Level 1 (Active) Cooldown: 5 minutes Expend 30% Health and Stamina to unleash random debilitating effects (stun, blindness, disorientation, slowed movement) on all enemies within 8 metres for 5 seconds.

[Abilities Adjusted for Balance]

Aggro Magnetism – Reduced Aura Resilience to 15% resistance to dispel effects. Unwelcome Mat – Active cooldown increased to 10 minutes. Crash Tackle – Damage scaling reduced to 120% (from 135%). Anvil Break – Stamina restoration reduced to 20% of Max Stamina.

[Traits Adjusted] Lineholder's Instinct – Mitigation reduced to +14%. Shadow Marked – Resistance to [Poison], [Corruption], and [Infection] effects reduced to +18%.

Skills remain unchanged.

I frowned as I read through the recalibrations. Aunt M stood next to me, reading the floating System screen above my head with a critical eye, nodding slowly as she did.

"Yes," she said approvingly, "there's balance here. You're powerful but manageable. Effective but vulnerable. Exactly how you need to be to make proper progress."

"Charisma got worse, though."

Aunt M shrugged unapologetically. "Frankly, dear, I'm surprised it wasn't lower. Just think of it as your enemies being naturally repulsed."

"Thanks, Aunt M."

"Anytime, my boy," she said, adjusting her glasses and returning to the chalk-covered table. "Now, let's hope it's enough for whatever trouble comes next."

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