"Another tumble, Pipkin?" a young voice chirped, laced with amusement. It was Finn, a boy a few years older with a scattering of freckles across his nose, standing over Pipkin who lay sprawled in the dusty village path.
Pipkin, internally seething at the indignity, just grunted, pushing himself up. His small limbs felt like they were made of poorly connected twigs. "I… I just tripped," he mumbled, his voice still thin.
Finn snickered, kicking a loose stone. "You always trip, Pipkin. You're like a newborn foal trying to find its legs."
Other children nearby giggled. Xylos, trapped in this humiliating form, clenched his tiny fists. He yearned for the power to summon a wave, to silence their mocking laughter with the roar of the ocean. But all he could manage was a frustrated sigh.
"Leave him be, Finn," a softer voice called out. Lumi Nymphaea, her basket overflowing with herbs, approached with a gentle smile. "He's still finding his balance."
Finn rolled his eyes but backed off. "Fine, Lumi. But he'll always be Pipkin the Peeble."
Lumi helped Pipkin up, her touch surprisingly strong. "Don't mind them, Pipkin. They don't understand." Her eyes held a knowing glint that made Xylos's non-existent godly senses tingle. Did she see something the others didn't?
Later that day, as Elara taught Pipkin the names of various wildflowers, a faint blue box flickered into his vision.
[Knowledge Acquired: Daisy]
[Reward: Lore (Plants) +0.01]
"See, Pipkin?" Elara said patiently, pointing to the white and yellow bloom. "This is a daisy. Good for soothing minor cuts."
"Why… why does that… happen?" Pipkin mumbled, gesturing vaguely at the shimmering box that only he could see.
Elara frowned, looking confused. "Happen? What do you mean, dear?"
Xylos realized with a jolt that no one else saw it. This "System" was something unique to him, a bizarre layer overlaid on reality that only his transmigrated consciousness could perceive.
Days turned into weeks, and Pipkin remained on the fringes of village life. He helped his parents with chores, his small stature making even simple tasks a struggle. Carrying water buckets left his arms aching, and chasing after stray chickens felt like an impossible marathon. Each small effort, however, often triggered those cryptic blue boxes.
One afternoon, Bram was trying to move a particularly heavy log. He grunted with the effort, his muscles straining. Pipkin, feeling a surge of useless sympathy, instinctively focused his will, a tiny echo of his former power.
[Observation: Significant Physical Exertion (Non-Self)]
[Potential Insight: Understanding of Physical Limits +0.001]
Another baffling notification. It seemed the "System" even reacted to his observations of others.
Lumi often sought Pipkin's help in the Whispering Woods. "Your eyes are sharp, Pipkin," she'd say, her gaze thoughtful. "You notice things others miss."
Once, she asked him to find a specific type of glowing mushroom that grew near a small, babbling brook. As Pipkin searched, a luminous insect with delicate wings fluttered past.
"A Lumina Sprite," Lumi murmured, her voice soft. "They rarely show themselves."
As Pipkin watched it, a blue box flashed:
[Passive Affinity Detected: Lumina Sprite]
[Potential Skill: Minor Light Manipulation (Locked)]
"Locked?" Pipkin whispered, more to himself than to Lumi.
Lumi's gaze sharpened. "Did you say something, Pipkin?"
He shook his head quickly, suddenly wary. "Just… it's pretty."
But the question lingered in his mind. Locked behind what? And why did he feel a faint, almost forgotten connection to the shimmering sprite? The useless god in the weakling's body was starting to realize that his new existence held more mysteries than he initially thought, and perhaps, just perhaps, a flicker of his old power still remained, waiting to be unlocked.