《Inner Light》 Chapter 1 ~ Rough Night I woke up suddenly to the sound of a light ding, like that of an email notification while you are on your work computer. It was slightly duller than the exact tone at work, but startled me enough from my sleep to leave me wondering what kind of notification it could be. I didn''t recognize it. And I always silence my phone before I go to bed, who wants to be woken up in the middle of the night by some automatic email from some website I can''t unsubscribe from fast enough? I kept my eyes shut and hoped it wasn''t anything, wondering if there really was a sound. I didn''t want to get up if I didn''t have to. It wouldn''t have been the first time some crazy dream was enough to wake me either. For that matter too though, my microwave went on the fritz last year, the stupid thing randomly beeping out at all times of the day, including in the middle of the night, leaving me prowling around my house at 1 in the morning trying to triangulate the offender, half annoyed and half scared. I ended up silencing the blasted thing by unplugging it and buying a new one the next day (week). There was also that time I house sat for a friend for a week and then one night the smoke alarms went off randomly. That scared the bejeezus outta me too, especially since those alarms had voices going along with it. In the early AM, nothing wakes you up faster than hearing "fire, fire, fire" and loud alarms blaring at you. I couldn''t get to sleep afterwards either, especially as the alarm was also a carbon monoxide detector. I ended up opening all the windows just to be safe, even though I knew for certain it wasn''t real. Stupid thing, it was a cold fall day too. I advised my friend to invest in new alarms when he returned. This said, I wasn''t a stranger to strange noises cropping up at night and I kept my eyes shut and didn''t move, hoping I could fade back into sleep without interruption. That didn''t happen as the next thing I heard was not another ding but a high aggressive growl coming from right next to my bed. That sound immediately got me going, I sat upright, eyes wide, heart hammering, adrenaline pumping, my mind going towards the worst scenarios as I look for the burglar that was undoubtedly ransacking my house. You see, I am currently dog sitting my brother''s wonderful pet greyhound Pesos, and while they always keep the dog in a kennel at night, I let Pesos out at night and it fills me up with awesome warm fuzzies to see her curl up on my floor next to me. Sure, the clicking of her nails on my wooden floor is super annoying, but it makes me feel like a spoiling uncle to let her out and I love it. That said, Pesos is the most gentle, lovable dog in the world and it turns out all greyhounds are big couch potatoes anyway. I have never heard that dog bark or growl at anything before so if she was growling now, it means there is trouble. Unfortunately for me, my light switch is all the way across the room. Bad design I think, but I can only curse myself now as I have had over a year of living here to place a lamp next to my bed. Sometimes, my laziness amazes even myself. Also, there was an odd ¡­ thing in my vision, top left. Like a dust speck in your eye that follows you around when you look away. There was a little (1) up there like an unread notification on your phone, along with a cool red countdown, currently at 4:44. I ignore it though and hold still in my bed, terribly frightened, my ears straining to hear the sounds of an intruder in my house. I think of my sister, living with me in the bedroom next to mine and I move to get up for a split second before I remember that she is gone for the weekend. A quick sense of relief fills me. Crisis averted. Or not, Pesos next to me is now growling very loudly after I moved and I turn to look at her for the first time. ¡­ Pesos looks very... different right now. It''s kind of hard to tell in this darkness, but i don''t remember Pesos having bright red eyes. I mean, Iam a little color blind, so I get red and green mixed up sometimes, but this is the bright type of red that I can see. Like, Darth Vader''s lightsaber red. And I can easily tell because she is staring at me, her teeth parting menacingly. Then she added in a couple short barks at me as if I was the bad guy. Come on girl, I''ve known you for years. Do you know how much this hurts to see you look at me so? Did you have a bad dream and need a tummy rub? "What''s wrong Pesos?" I ask lightly, in the type of voice people use to talk to dogs as if they are toddlers. Truth be told, she was frightening me pretty badly right now. I slowly stood up on top of my mattress, trying to keep a balance on the unsteady thing. Then she lunged without further warning, straight up at my neck, her jaws open wide in a clear attempt to rip out my beloved throat. Not cool girl, I need that, no? Reflexively I shoot up my right forearm to which she latches onto instead of my jugular and I let out a loud shriek of pain as I feel her teeth sink into my arm. She did not let go. I am stunned, never would I have thought this dog i have known for 8 years would turn on me like this. My aunt had a dog once, a tiny little demon named Pippen. I hated that dog, and so did most people as it was whiny, jumpy, and mean. My aunt hated it too, but it was technically her daughter''s dog and there were circumstances so she was left taking care of it. I remember her telling me one day that she had to put the dog down. Apparently it had tried to kill somebody, some older lady at her house. Pippen was being petted one moment, then the next was driving for the old woman''s neck for the kill. Not nice. My coworker had a rooster once, too, that attacked his kids. He had to put that bird down. He did it with a shotgun I think, though. I, unfortunately, did not have a shotgun on me, and Pesos was attached to my right forearm anyway. My love for the dog evaporated quickly and I reacted instinctively towards the 35 pound aging dog. With what little strength I had I jumped up into the air towards Pesos, pushing her over backwards, and then I proceeded to land on top of her now bent neck with all my weight on my forearm, like some pro wrestling move. Or like spongebob. I¡¯m sure there was an episode in there that had that move in it. I have no idea where that came from, my only fights I had were king of the raft. I was pretty good at that, I was slippier than the average brother. But this was different, and I banged my foot against the dresser as I flew, and then my head as I landed. Ow. Double ow. Through The pain, I heard a sharp yelp from Pesos and then I felt the jaw slacken on my arm. I was basically lying on top of the dog now, its warm furry body took the brunt of the rest of my fall anyway, after I landed on its neck. Still panicked, I quickly grabbed its jaw and pried it loose from my arm. It hurt like the dickens as it came off, but I was too out of it to register my own shouts of pain. After getting it loose I scrambled away from the body like I would if I knew a huge spider was currently resting on it. Another dinging sound filled the air and I was flabbergasted to see bright glowing text appear in front of me. It was obvious, because it was still night and I could barely see anything else.
Congratulations! You are the first sentient entity to kill within The Void inside the influence of the system! You have been rewarded with an option for a unique class specially calibratedto fit your current setting. Do you accept y/n?
I stare dumbfounded at the blue screen looking out at me and I read it again. Unique class? I am dreaming? Thinking about it, that makes sense. I¡¯ve heard of lucid dreaming before, but they mostly involve flying and what not. Not lovable pets trying to kill you. Still, I am suspicious, and I hold my arm, trying to stem the flow of blood from the bite. I heard in movies that I should put pressure on bleeding wounds like this, so I try that. I also reach for a nearby dirty shirt on the ground to hold against it, ignoring the blue screen in front of me. As I do so, I notice it disappears, the little number on the top left of my vision changing from a (1) to a (2). Good, at least I won¡¯t be blinded by having half of my field of vision blocked by the blue screen of death or whatever. I also notice that the timer has gone down to 3:48. Hmmmm... God, this hurts. Who knew that getting large puncture wounds from a dog would be so painful? Not to mention by head, I did hit it pretty hard on the wooden floor. I hope I don¡¯t have a concussion. Judging from the headache I now have, I probably do. I never had training for this crap, how do the pro wrestlers avoid banging their head on the floors after their masterful moves? Maybe they just have good neck muscles. After a moment, I crawl over to pesos warily, wondering what on earth I am going to say to my brother when he gets back. ¡°Sorry bro, but Pesos tried to rip my throat out in the middle of the night for no apparent reason. I had to break its neck.¡± Right, that sounds either awful or awesomely manly. Would people even believe me? I guess I do have the wound to prove it. God, I¡¯m not prepared for that kind of attention this is going to bring. Mom¡¯s going to be intolerable.If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. I check on Pesos and she is clearly dead. No heart beat as far as I could tell and she always had a nice strong heartbeat. I had liked to lay my head on her and relax in her warmth. She never cared, you could do practically anything to her and she wouldn¡¯t care. Dang, she was an awesome dog. What happened? She was dead now, her neck twisted at an odd angle. Seeing her, memories of another dog, the family dog Snuggles from 15 years ago when I was tenish enters my mind. She was the same color as Pesos, black with a white belly, but a fat lab. Snuggles had passed from liver cancer and I remember the night she whimpered and then died on our living room floor. I remember crying with my brothers, and I remember my dad crying too and angrily stating that this was why he hated having pets. Mom and the sisters had been out that night. I can¡¯t remember why. Despite what dad had said, he and mom had gotten a new pet within months. A cat, this time. Pets have always been a part of our family and I was not surprised when all three of my brothers got cats and/or dogs. I was the odd man out I guess, the one without a pet. I teared up slightly at the unsightly sight of Pesos, but the pain in my forearm was still strong. My brother would understand and with a baby in his house, he especially couldn¡¯t risk having a dog like this around. Better attacking me me than my niece. Perhaps it was some senility combined with a bad dream that made Pesos go nuts. She was getting pretty old for a dog. I let out a long sigh and reach for my phone next to my bed. Thankfully, a new 24 hour medical center was built not a mile from my house last year, and doubly thankfully, I actually purchased health insurance this year due to my mother¡¯s constant nagging. Turns out she was right, who knew? My actions stop when another screen appeared in front of me. I made an ugly face, super annoyed at this thing that was ruining my sense of reality. This one was a color combo that was very difficult for me to read with my type of colorblindness, red on blue. I almost ignored it completely due to the difficulty but decided against it. I stared hard at it, trying to make out the characters in it.
Warning! You have been infected by the instance airborne bacteria! Negative effects will stack
What? Infected? Negative effects? That sounds terrible. Slightly panicked, I watched as the blue screen of death, truly this time, faded away. I switched my eyes to the (2) in the top left corner but it did not change to (3). I guess I read it this time? Thinking it was suddenly important I brought my attention to the (2) and was relieved to see them both appear before me without effort, the earlier blue and white one about the class resting in the background and a new one in the foreground. My relief quickly turned to horror however, as I read the, presumably, first notice that had woken me up.
Warning! You have been attacked by instance soul curse! Countdown until death
Countdown until death. Countdown. Until. Death.The verbiage made me freeze. There was only one countdown around, sitting quietly on the top left corner of my vision. I didn¡¯t dare look. Feeling the blood rush from my face and my limbs get tingley, I watched as the notification faded away, like the infection one. The last notification was still there in the background. Reluctantly, I shifted my eyes to the top left corner of my vision were the red timer reflected back emotionlessly. It read simply 2:30. Judas Maude. Judas L Maude. Apparently I had only minutes to live until¡­ death. That¡¯s not even enough time to make it to the medical center, although something told me that they probably could not do anything for an ¡°instance curse¡±. Not to mention the infection¡­ Wow, i was going to die, and, you know what, I believed it despite the absurdity of it. A cold sweat broke out over my body. Like, all over. Like the type of sweating when you knew you screwed up and your boss was coming. Or like the type where you thought you were going to die. That too. As I sat frozen on the floor, next to the dead greyhound I had killed with my bare hands, if an elbow attack can be classified as a ¡°bare hands¡± attack, I pondered the meaning on my existence. Dang. Despite myself and it being stereotypical and incredibly shallow, what came first to me was a sincere regret that I would die a virgin and that all three of my brothers were all happily married and presumably had nice sex lives to go with it. They must have, judging by the babys their wives were popping out. Those bastards. The last screen was before my face and I read it again because it was there.
Congratulations! You are the first sentient entity to kill within The Void inside the influence of the system! You have been rewarded with an option for a unique class specially calibratedto fit your current setting. Do you accept y/n?
A unique class specially calibrated class to fit my setting? That sounds promising! Without wasting another second, I reach up and poked the phantasm with my finger while also yelling, ¡°yes, yes, yes!¡± I¡¯m not sure whether it was my yelling or my poking but it appeared to have worked as the screen faded away and was replaced another.
Reward accepted Calibrating class...
I waited with baited breath.
Class Choosen: Inner Light
That doesn¡¯t really sound like a name for a class to me, but what do I know? That notification didn¡¯t really tell me anything either and I waited impatiently for another notification to appear with some exposition, explanation, or anything. Nothing did appear, though, and that last blue box faded away into nothing. I glanced up at the countdown. 1:02 Gah, it was crunch time now. A little ? Symbol appeared where the notifications icons was earlier and I poked it as hard as I could, wondering briefly how on earth I could physically interact with something that clearly wasn¡¯t actually out there. It was either in my eyeball or in my mind. Whatever, I could think about the ramifications of this whole mess later. Poking it worked and I was happy to see some more details written out as the icon expanded.
Inner Light: (level 1) A unique light attribute class able to learn every light attribute skill and uses mana directly for every skill. Class locks all other potential attributes and skill types. Skill usage limited only to quantity of Mana available
Mana: 25/25 Regen: 1.236 per minute
Skills: Cleanse Clear body of foreign influences
Heal Enhances natural healing
Flare Coat external surfaces with light energy to give a light attribute to object
Holy Moly, cleanse looks like a clear winner to me. I guess it really did give me a class suitable for my situation. How nice of it but I guess it''s only fair to give me a fighting chance. I have mana now too apparently. That¡¯s cool. I guess all the screens until now weren¡¯t enough, but I am now convinced I am either in a hyper realistic dream, or some kind of game interphase has corrupted my world. A screen did mention a ¡°system¡± earlier, whatever that means. So, I¡¯m going to hope this is all just a dream but play ball like its real. No sense in taking that risk, eh? Just try not to think about it if this is happening to the world. I mean really, don¡¯t think about it. If everybody got cursed and I¡¯m the only one who got this class, does that mean everybody else is going to die? Dang, like I said, don¡¯t even think about it. If this had happened to my oldest brother, though, I doubt he would have even known what mana was. The plebeian. The timer was at 0:34 now, so I decided to stop wasting time and poked the cleanse button in order to activate my savior. It doesn¡¯t specify how much mana it will use up, but I can¡¯t worry about that right now. What I can worry about is it not activating even after I poke it again, and again. Panicked, I yell quickly, ¡°Cleanse!¡± and I sigh in relief when I see it working. I feel a slight warming sensation around my body, like the chills but pleasant. I also see my mana quantity disappearing quickly. As I watch, I see it go down from 25 to 10, 5, 3, 2, 1, 0... Yeah, it all got used up. Hopefully, it worked and cleansed me of my curse and infection. Or at least it prioritiezed the curse. I can¡¯t really tell though as I feel like I am going to pass out. Tunnel vision, overwhelming blackness, dizziness, these symptoms seem to indicate I am about to go under. I recognize these because my second oldest brother passes out whenever he sees something like an epipen being injected and this is similar to how he describes it. Its funny when it happens to him, but not so funny now. I suppose this is what I get for using up all my mana, I¡¯ll have to remember that in the future. I only hope my skill was enough to fix me up, otherwise this will be the end of me. As wise Yoda would say, ¡°forever sleep.¡± Chapter 2 ~Rough Morning When I woke up there was an awful pain in my right arm. I mean, I know I had gotten a nice flesh wound there from when Pesos, may she rest in peace, tried to kill me, but Holy Cow, this sensation was like somebody was currently plunging a knife into my arm and then filling it with lemon juice alternatively. Not that I had ever been stabbed with a knife, but I had been bit savagly by a dog with long teeth. It was like that repeatedly. But this thing hurt, like a forget everything and focus your entire being on ending the pain ASAP hurt. Perhaps the feeling can be compared a carrying a plate filled with the most tantalizing food ever but then realizing it is burning your fingers and you drop it all onto the floor. I¡¯ve done that with a pizza, but I don''t want to get into it now. It''s too soon. That said, I immediately turn to look at the wound and my left hand crosses over to my right arm to hold the paining limb (I¡¯m not sure why we do that, it seems counter intuitive to me) before I can stop it. I am horrified to see that my wound has festered horribly. What appears to be a white and yellow nasty fungus the size of half a grapefruit is on top of where my wound was. Before I can stop my left hand, it brushes up against the fungus and pain like my right arm is on fire erupts and I abandon my attempt to touch it. Clearly, this fungus does not want to be disturbed in its ancient ritual of eating me alive. I am beyond horrified. My first instinct is to try to scrape off the growth as fast as possible and then do the shiver dance for a minute straight but my last experience tells me that is a no go. It¡¯s like a tick, you can¡¯t just pull the bloodsuckers off you once they are connected. And it probably has worse consequences than the horror of lyme disease I am constantly being told ticks can carry, Breathing hard, I look around the room, vaguely recalling what had happened last night. A cold light was passing through the blinds, letting me see around the room. I was sitting on the floor with my top half laying across the bed. Looks like my attempt to not bang my head against the floor when I passed out was a success. Minor victory. Then I see Pesos. Or, what is left of Pesos because she seems to be decomposing rather quickly. Disturbingly so, she is completely covered with what looks like the same fungus on my arm as well as more crazy varieties. Mushrooms of every color are sprouting all over her. If I was a child again and didn''t know what the mushrooms were growing on I would have enjoyed stomping said mushrooms. As it was, I wanted to cry. Either I pulled a Rip Van Winckel, or there are armies of spores ready to kill and eat me (not necessarily in that order) for tonight¡¯s dinner. And by the look of my arm, there were well on their way. Trying to calm down, I look to the top left to see a (1) there. Apparently I had missed a message and the sound didn¡¯t wake me up. I¡¯ll have to really avoid passing out in the future if it will prevent me from being able to react notifications, especially ones that inform me that I¡¯ll die in five minutes. I open it immediately.
Warning! You have been infected by the isntance airborne bacteria! Negative effects will stack
Huh, it seems to be a recurring problem. I assume I had survived the curse considering I am alive, but it is nice to see the timer gone. I hope it never comes back, that bastard. And why on earth are they still using the blasted red on blue coloring? Don¡¯t they realize how difficult it is for me to read that? This is discriminatory towards color blind people. Soon, I suspect there will be notifications in colors just like those annoying colorblind tests with the numbers in the middle. I¡¯m sure I¡¯ll miss important data and die. So, back to the infection on my arm either I hadn¡¯t had enough mana to fully cure the infection when I passed out or I got it again afterwards. I am betting on the latter as I had clearly gotten a second message about it. No time stamp though, that¡¯s annoying. I should speak to the developers. Taking a deep breath, I hit the ? symbol and open up my info. Nothing has changed and it appears that my mana is back up to full. I¡¯m glad to see that whatever the negative effects of the infection is, it isn¡¯t touching my mana pool. I am having a hard time moving my body though. I don''t think I can get up. Well, here¡¯s nothing, I¡¯m obviously going to use Cleanse again. Hopefully it won¡¯t use all my mp again otherwise there would be a good chance I¡¯d be starting a downward spiral where I¡¯ll never get enough mana points to fully clear my body before the infection takes me again and I¡¯ll die. If I have spare mana points afterwards, I¡¯ll use it to try to heal my wounds too. Looks like the open wound is only accelerating the infection rate. After a quick prayer, I say softly, ¡°Cleanse¡± and once again feel the comfortable chill spread through my body, then focus on my right arm. Keeping a close eye on my mana points as it falls below 10 again I watch in amazement as the white growth slowly dissolves and disappears, leaving a wounded arm full of holes, granted, but no sign of infection anywhere. I breathe out a long sigh of relief as I also note that I am left with 5 mp. No forever sleep today Yoda, looks like the system didn¡¯t screw me over with an unwinnable setting. Looking over my wounded arm, now hurting far less than before but still painful, I wonder what it would take to heal it. Considering my mana regen, I¡¯ll be back up to full within a half an hour, I¡¯ll give it another go then. Hopefully, I can avoid getting it infected again until then. Also hopefully, the cleansing power is still pouring through my veins, providing lasting protection, if only for a few minutes. Probably not. Feeling relatively calm again due to surviving a close encounter with death, I stand up and stretch, realizing I had not been resting in a good position. My back was sore and so was my neck. As the sun was seeping through the window I know that it has been several hours since Pesos tried to kill me, and now that I have time to think a little the thoughts I have been keeping in the back try to surface again, like unruly potatoes you are trying to sink in a wash bin. ... Was this happening to the whole world? I wasn¡¯t hearing any sirens in the distance, so that was a good sign. But then again, if everybody died in the first 5 minutes and were now half eaten by overly aggressive mold there wouldn¡¯t be any sirens out there anyway. ¡­ I can¡¯t be the only one left. I just can¡¯t be. It¡¯s too absurd to even think about. ¡­ Bracing myself, I step over the half decomposed body of Pesos and grab my phone from the chair I use as a night stand and makeshift clothing storage. Once I have it I step back quickly away from Pesos, trying to ignore her. Looking at the phone I see that I have no reception, even my wi-fi connection is out. I stand there briefly, wondering if this is a good or bad sign. With another sigh, I realize there is nothing left for it and I put on my intrepid explore face and boldlymove to take a step outside my room. I reach out and grab the handle, turn it, and then open the door the the world outside of my room. Bright sunlight filters down onto me through an ugly green light fog that is settled everywhere like moss on a tree. I am flabbergasted to see that my house is gone, replaced by an ugly, dirty, dead, and mangy forest of putrid green. How foreboding. I guess it makes sense if this was a place ruled by the denizens of decomposition. For several seconds I waver between two opposite emotions. Firstly, My HOUSE IS GONE!!? While I have only been the owner of this place for a little less than a year, I have grown more attached to it than i ever thought I could. I had spent over a year looking at houses online and in person, with several offers and several houses not going through. I had barely even managed to purchase this house from an old couple. I had to sign the offer agreement minutes after I physically saw the house, which was only hours after the blasted thing had even been posted as available. Plus, I was offering above asking price. Even then it was a long shot, as my realtor told me the couple had five other offers that day and the only reason why I ended up with the house was because my offer was cash (thanks mom and dad for the personal loan) and the couple didn¡¯t want the additional risk, apparently, of even higher offers but based on approval of a mortgage. Hurray, for conservative old people, I guess. But then I finally had a place to call my own, after six years of literally moving each year, first at freshman dorms, then apartment with an unfriend, then Junior year back with parents, then Senior with eldest brother who then kicked me out after a year when he got married, then a year with my twin until he got married, and then a year with my friend until he got married, and then a year back at the parents. I was ready to stop moving. And stop going to weddings. But a large paint job, a little deconstruction, and a lot of used furniture from my parents and I finally had a place to call home. Even better, my little sister was going to be a Sophomore at university and was going to live with me. I didn''t have to be alone, ca¡¯ching! But now it was all gone. It can rest in peace too, I guess. I looked to my right and left. To my right should have been my sister¡¯s bedroom and then the bathroom. Bothhave been replaced by dark, mossy, and slimy mud and bushes. Looking at the outside wall of my room, I see only half of it had been brought here anyway.. To my right should have been the wall to the hallway with a closet on the other side of it. The system didn¡¯t have the decency to let me keep a coat apparently.Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. Eyeing the area, I see part of my yard around me, looking worse for wear. From what I can tell, it looks like a nice sphere of space was taken from earth, specifically, the space around my room and going back several feet into the sidewalk and flowers the previous owners had left me. The flowers were very wilted but that was true even before today. My beloved house, destroyed before its time. I wonder if insurance would cover something like this? Probably not, they might call it an act of God and I really couldn¡¯t blame them. Blast you system, you¡¯ll pay for this! But then the second, more serious, realization hit me and I was able to heave a nice sigh of relief and let the tension fade slightly. The whole world was not ending, just my bedroom. With that question answered I actually felt a lot better. I had a lot of poeple I didn''t want to see die, my three brother''s and their respective wives, my two younger sisters, and my parents to start off with. It was nice to know that if I bit the dust (or slimy moss), at least I was alone. It would be their problem to deal with the greif of loss, not mine. I don¡¯t know what I would have done if I had to see my sister half decomposed next door to me. I probably would have gone insane. With renewed vigor I stepped back into my bedroom and looked at poor Pesos. She was stinking up the place even more than my dirty laundry. Sorry Pesos, but you have to go. Fortunately she had died on top of a carpet my mother insisted on giving me to put onto my wooden bedroom floors. I should be able to just grab the corners or something and drag her outside, if I take it easy with my wounded arm. With that plan in mind I reach out and grab the front corners, hoping the drag the whole mass forward. It worked great partly, as only part of the dog came with it. Ewww, that fungas was really doing a steller job, I couldn''t even see any bones in there. Not stopping and not trying to think about it, I drag what I had, which was most of Pesos, to the now front door of my house. I pause though, realizing that I would probably want shoes if I was going to go out there. The dead marshes would be a good name for this place I think, although more light and green than the scene from LOTR. Stepping back, I head for my bedroom closet where I think I had left an old pair of sneakers. Hot dog, there they were! That¡¯s a point for lazy people I believe. And mom wanted me to get rid of these babies, psssh, what does she know? I quickly grab a pair of dirty socks, put on the worn and slippery sneakers, and head back out. I grab the rug again and drag it around the corner, and as far away as I was comfortable moving in this horrible place. The ground was super mushy and bubbly under my feet. I didn¡¯t want to think about what I was stepping through. Coming back, I study the remaining remains of Pesos, wondering how I was going to remove them. The best bet would have been a shovel but I did not have a habit of keeping those in my bedroom. Looking at my available options I decide I should sacrifice a number of my shirts to get the job done. I grab several of them and try to use them to grab/push/drag the uncomfortably sloppy and fungus ridden remains out my door. On the way my hand brushes up againstthe mess and a screen greets me.
Warning! You have been infected by instance bacteria! Negative effects will stack
Blast, I¡¯ll do this in one go then and cleanse when I am done. After several minutes of some of the literally most disgusting thing I have ever done in my life I head back into my room and close the door for good measure. I also hit the ? symbol again and see where my MP was at. Up to 20, not bad. I am not willing to risk further infection, assuming I¡¯ll use significantly less mp to cleanse a 10 minute old infection rather than an hours old infection. At least no fungus was growing on me yet. I say ¡°cleanse¡± again, only feeling slightly foolish for talking to myself and I am heartened to see that it only took 5 mp to clear me of my infection this time. With that in mind, I take a chance and try a new skill, heal. With only slight hesitation, I say it aloud. Very different from the cleansing skill which was thrilling and comfortable, this sensation was more like getting ice water poured down my back. It was very unpleasant but not painful and I felt the icey burn settle onto my arm. Fascinated, I watched carefully as the jagged wound there slowly closed up and disappeared, leaving only a bloody smear behind. All for the low cost of 10 mp! I assume that more serious wounds will require much more mp, but for now I am satisfied to know that my open wound is now closed to further fungus busnuss, thank you very much. Feeling accomplished, I take a deep breath and smile while looking around my room. But with all of my pressing problems taken care of the larger issues come back at me and I lose my smile. Issues such as, where on earth (or not on earth) am I? How am I going to get back home? And some more urgent problems like, what am I going to eat and drink since my kitchen had declined the journey? And the big one, am I going to be able to survive without being eaten by shrooms? Son of a gun, there were easy answers before. These ones are going to be much more difficult. I don¡¯t get paid enough to deal with this crap. ... I take that back actually, looking around my room I spy my water cooler! Sure, it¡¯s filled with five day old water from when I had gone to play ultimate frisbee, but I think it is still half full! That¡¯s another point for being lazy, is somebody keeping score? That was easy, I¡¯m certain the other ones will be just as elementary to solve and I can start calling my sidekick Watson. I move my now healed right arm and bring my hand up to scratch my beard. Hmmmmmm. Applying my advanced problem solving abilities I purview my experiences I have had so far. While I have had to face death multiple times already in the short few hours I have been here, the solution has been available to me everytime, nay, right in front of my nose even. Either I have had incredible luck or this place is designed to test its occupants, subtly providing clues and solutions to the player, me. I¡¯m going to go with the latter option here as the game system seems to indicate something like that and two, it provides hope and a way forward for me. The other option leaves me hanging, you know? I¡¯d be paralyzed by indecisiveness if I took this place at face value. Decision made, I get up and head confidently to the door. Larger answers to larger questions will undoubtedly await down the storyline but in this metaphorical starting village, permanent solutions for food and water are surely just around the riverbend. Flinging open the door I step out into the ugly green air and breathe deep the misty dense fog. I immediately get a notification.
Warning! You have been infected by the instance airborne bacteria! Negative effects will stack
God, this place has it out for me. I quickly say, ¡°cleanse¡± and I am happy to see that since I caught it so early it only took 1 mp. I¡¯ll remember that. I¡¯ll also remember to try to not take deep breaths out here. Looking out again I am immediately struck at a loss. Which direction should I head? I kinda peer in each direction but I don¡¯t see any obvious waypoints. Holding still, I notice there is very little noise either. Mostly, I hear just light gurgling noises from pretty much everywhere. Considering it is like a marsh I am not surprised. I stare out a few seconds, but decide I am not ready to move out just yet. I don''t even have any equipment. I head back to my room, considering my last skill I have not used yet. I pull the description up again to review.
Flare Coat external surfaces with light energy to give a light attribute to object
Hmm, that sounds like a very ambiguous skill to me. There is no indication as to what kind of effect a light attribute even does. Is the effect uniform on every object? It says ¡°a¡± light attribute, does that mean that there are more than one type of light attributes? Looks like I¡¯ll have to perform some experiments. Grabbing a book from my shelf titled Foundation and Empire, I hold it out and say, ¡°flare.¡± Perhaps that was a bad object to experiment with, in no way would a book serve as a type of equipment, unless it¡¯s like a spell book, which I doubt it could turn into. I do note, however, that while the little book is now covered in light golden flames it seems a little stiffer and harder for a paperback. Also, I watch my mp and see that I am losing what appears to be 1 mp every two seconds. I study the not-flames for a few seconds before I run out of mp. Instinctively, I know how to shut it off and without a word the golden glow deactivates, leaving me with 7 mp left. Pretty cool stuff. Now I need a real weapon. I take catalog of my room and I am very disappointed at the results. Not that I had ever stored any kind of weapon in my house, much less my room, but I had fancied something useful being found here. There¡¯s not even a baseball bat that I could try to pound some nails into. Or any nails at all for that matter. Too bad the coat closet didn¡¯t come over with me, because then I could have at least used the broom handle. Perhaps the plastic staff would not have worked well, but maybe the Flare skill would help that? As it was, I had nothing that was usable by any stretch of the imagination. There was a paintball marker up in my closet though¡­ I hadn¡¯t used the marker in years and seeing it again brought back the memories of its use. When my eldest brother¡¯s first left him his life took a turn for the worse. Quitting his high pressure job and moving out of his apartment he ended up purchasing a small house on discount from our parents in order to start on a fresh page. I didn''t want him to be alone, so I took the opportunity to move in with him to help him out. My eldest brother is the classic outgoing, imaginative, energetic, confident,and slightly arrogant archetype that eldest sons often are. That year was one of the craziest of my life. Together, we bought a sailboat and sailed on it, redid the entire backyard, rode bikes around the city, visited people and places I never would have alone, threw several outdoor parties, and also started a paintball league together. This marker was the remnant of that crazy awesome year that ended when he married another girl and kicked me out (lovingly). He even made me best man for this second wedding. That''s two out of three brothers I got that honor for. I took the marker down from the shelf in my closet and unzipped the bag holding it. Briefly, I imagined myself shooting Flare covered paintballs at my enemies, but that thought was quickly dispelled as I saw the o-rings were shot, the CO2 tank was empty, and my ammo had disintegrated over the last four years of disuse. But I wasn¡¯t aiming for that to begin with. What had my eyes was the long sniper barrel screwed on to the end of the marker. You see, my eldest brother does everything 110% and if he was going to own a marker and play the game, he was going to do it the best way possible. Unlike me who was happy with the simple marker set up,my brother spent the entire year and all his spare money in upgrading his equipment until he became one of those guys who look like part of the SWAT. I believe he ended up with a fully automatic paintball marker and went through amo like a dog eating endless dog food. He had canisters of the amo strapped on to his back during the games for quick switch outs, going through thousands of the little paintballs in a single round of play, while I went through a few hundred. That said, I got most of his hand me down upgrades, including this awesome barrel, twice as long as a regular barrel with small spiral holes on the side to ensure the paint ball spins properly on their exit of the marker to hit a target far across the field of play. It was also made out of some special metal too that I can¡¯t remember but made it more awesome somehow. I felt like a badass when he gave it to me, and I still admire it to this day. The barrel was about 2 feet long and would make as an excellent clubbing tool, if anything out there needed clubbing. And perhaps with a little Flare skill, the sturdy barrel would become something truly special. Like batman when he embraced the dark side. I pulled out the black barrel and held it out in front of me. I whispered ¡°flare¡± and watched with satisfaction as the the barrel lit up like it was covered in a fine oil and was aflame. However, it was not hot and after a few seconds I extinguished the skill before my mana was depleted. Chuckling slightly I headed out the door, ready to test its effectiveness against any unsuspecting shroom out there. Looks like this barrel''s glory days of pwning newbs are coming back. Chapter 3 ~ Determination A few paces after I had boldly taken steps outside my door on my journey towards my manifest destiny, the sight of an odd shape moving slowly in the distance stops me dead in my tracks and several thoughts all run through my brain at once, briefly paralyzing me. The first was the realization that I had precious little mp left to use after my experience with the Flare skill. Much less the flare skill, my other two very necessary skills also used mp to function and deciding to go on an adventure without the resource was probably a sure way to end up on a fungus dinner plate. Or a zombie dinner plate. I say that because the object moving slowly in the distance it quite obviously a zombie slowly heading toward me. Its obvious because it is half rotten, moving upright, and in a basic humanoid shape. Whether it is actually a human corpse moving or some other new species moving I cannot tell at this distance and something tells me I wouldn¡¯t be able to determine that even it was right in front of me. It was half decomposed after all. But the sight of a zombie brings to me several pungent questions about the nature of this place and the system. You see, zombies aren¡¯t real. ¡­ I know what you are thinking. Of course zombies aren¡¯t real, but then neither was being teleported to another world and that has happened to me. And so are crazy fast bacteria and screens and notifications. I get why you would think that. But here is what I am thinking. Zombies are not real of course, but they are a distinctly human idea prevalent in our culture. Everybody knows what a zombie is, but the idea of zombies actually coming into being naturally is beyond my ability to believe. Partly, the idea of zombies stems from our human emotional un-understanding and fascination with death and what it is. They don''t make logical sense. And as for the screens and notifications and all that junk, I believe that those ideas are much more reasonable and something like an artificial intelligence (or the system) could logically come to such things. Additionally, as evidence in this argument I point to my regen amount. While this may not be a very strong argument, I think it is worth considering the non-integer number that is my mana regen amount of 1.236 a minute. I think it would be odd for the system to be using the imperial system for measuring time, minutes in this case. I suspect there was a conversion and translation used to allow me to understand the words and naturally the units are unequal. Try converting a mile into a kilometer and you¡¯ll get a non integer figure too. What I am trying to say is that these notifications and screens and ¡°system¡± could just be plain good ol¡¯ math in the end, similar to how physics is just math in the end. My sister¡¯s ex-boyfriend was a physics major (a native Korean studying in the states, I don¡¯t have to tell you he was good at math) and he even theorized that our whole reality was just math (formulas). Don¡¯t ask me how physics is just math in the end, but it is, apparently. Go ask your own physics person. So, what seeing a zombie means about the nature of this place is that it dwindles down the possibilities of what it is as the creator of this place must have had some connection with the social culture of our world. Here are my now two current theories: Firstly, this whole thing is in my mind. Whether it is a dream, a forced reality, aliens twisting my mind back into itself, or whatever, the idea here is that my own memories and ideas are what is fueling the objects appearing here. Personally, I am now favoring this theory as my bedroom, brother¡¯s dog, and other things here appear to be from my own experiences and memories. This doesn¡¯t bode well for me finding out a way out of here by myself, but it does cut the danger down a little. Secondly, this place is a creation of a mad scientist from earth, either some sort of matrix virtual reality or some created dimension to fuel his fantasies which I accidentally got caught up in. I say accidentally because there is no earthly reason I would get caught up in it otherwise. And that¡¯s it. I¡¯ve got a couple of variations of those theories, but that¡¯s mainly it. I guess I¡¯ll keep the possibility of this being a natural phenomenon open but I am not putting much faith in it. All these thoughts ran through my head when I saw the zombie slowly, very slowly, ambling my way. I was not pleased with my conclusions though and a large frown now appeared on my face as I considered my options. While there are a many varied type of zombies out there, strong, weak, fast, slow, brain eating, non brain eating, this one appeared to be the weak, slow, and non brain eating kind. I say that due to how slow and unsteady he seems in his gait and also his missing jaw. But I have seen enough zombie films to know to never underestimate a zombie unless you want to be the first to die. Plus I have practically no MP. With that reasoning, I retreat back to my bedroom, again, and shut the door quickly. I should play it safe, get my mana back up to 25, and use my position defensively against the creature. Judging by his speed I should have a good portion of my mana back by the time he reaches here and if I can use some delaying tactics I might be able to get it all back before I engage it. I open my blinds and peak out of the window, much more dirty and green now than I remember it being, and watch as the zombie approaches my door like an unwelcome guest. He seems to be zeroed in on me somehow, maybe he has infrared sensing like snakes. I consider my flare skill again, thinking that in most cases, light attribute stuff would be very effective againstcreatures like undead. Hopefully that is the case here too. I¡¯ll have to thank the system again for giving me this class ¡®specially calibrated¡± for this place. I wait impatiently but the zombie does eventually make it to my door and, after a tense moment, he politely knocks. ¡­ Just kidding, he just bangs rudely against it, like I expect a zombie would. I am standing just behind the door, heart beating wildly, hands covered in a slick sweat not helping my grip, eyes wide in terror. It appears that I have underestimated the physiological effects the stress is giving me. My spirit is willing but my flesh is weak. I have a confession to make. Despite my words of bravado, I have never been in a physical fight before. Heck, I rarely get into verbal arguments. I can type some choice words when the situation demands, but actually engaging somebody in confrontation of any kind is beyond my experience and probably my ability. That said, I can feel my flight or flight response kicking in and I am now trapped in my bedroom. I could probably escape out the back window, but I don¡¯t, I probably couldn''t get the screens out in my current condition. I don¡¯t want to break them either. Thankfully, the zombie seems to be very weak like my initial assessment and he is not making any headway against my flimsy bedroom door. My blind panic reduces slightly and I watch as my mana slowly reaches up towards max. The zombie is certainly persistent though. Soon, my mana does make it to 25, and I have now reached my maximum fighting potential. However, now I am faced with a decision. Should I open the door and instigate the fight? My reason is telling me yes, go, go, go! I have skills and attributes that at most, give me clear advantage over my opponent and at least allows me to heal and cleanse any potential hurts in the fight, meaning little risk. Also, the zombie is very weak, I could probably easily overpower it with brute force if need be, and the creature is not going to go away anytime soon. On the other hand my hands are quivering, my knees feel like I just ran a marathon, and I feel lightheaded and sweaty. I can tell my own grip on my weapon is very loose and I could easily lose it if I try to bash it against something. I feel like my feet are stuck in tar, I can¡¯t move. Unbelievable. I have turned into one of those weaklings in one of those horror shows that I despise so much. Thepeoplewho fall down and freeze in terror at the impending doom, rather than running away or literally doing anything else that could potentially save them or their friends. That¡¯s pathetic. I''m pathetic. Who''s the noob now? ¡­ I stand still for several more minutes, not doing anything. My breath has become very ragged and I am trying to calm myself by alternating between saying quickly, ¡°its okay, its okay, its okay¡± and ¡°you can do this, you can do this, you can do this¡±. Eventually either my efforts have worked, or simply a significant length of time passed and I am able to calm down. I didn¡¯t go open the door though, but I was able to move again, take deep breaths, and otherwise regain control of my body. The zombie was being very nice in letting me have my time before we fought. I¡¯m going to have to give him a point for nobility.Stolen novel; please report. Closing my eyes and giving up a large sigh, I went and sat on my bed, bringing by left hand up to my forehead, wiping away some sweat. My good mood from earlier is now gone and I am very disturbed, frowning seriously at the space where I had killed Pesos. Man, this whole thing is seriously screwed up. I let the zombie earn its pay by working hard but uselessly against my door. Like an intern given menial tasks. I think about my siutuation again. It was currently Saturday morning and my roommate sister was visiting the parents for the weekend so nobody would know I was missing immediately this morning. Additionally, my room is at the back of the house, none of my neighbors would notice either that a large portion of it is now gone. A nice set of trees was in the way. The first person that would notice would be my twin who would wonder why I won¡¯t show up at church tomorrow morning. Then he would text me afterwards asking my why me missed it. It wouldn''t be unusual for me not to respond immediately. My sister would come home Sunday night, but there is a good chance she¡¯ll stay longer at the parents as it is summer. The first people to start asking questions would probably be my coworkers on Monday morning. I had never been late without telling them first. They¡¯ll call my cell phone, but I don¡¯t answer obviously, then Sue, my not-seriously but seriously surrogate grandmother co-worker would start worrying very badly. She would work hard and eventually contact somebody in my family somehow who wouldn¡¯t have any clue to my whereabout either. That would start the real worry train. Probably by noonish on Monday an officer would stop by my house and see it. I imagine it would lookk like a crater for all intents and purposes as it appears it was a sphere that was taken over here. I can see him scratching his head now. Did a meteor crash here? No, no blast radius or anything. What the hell was the kid doing in his room alone to cause this? And that would be it. I was simply inexplicably gone. There would not even be a body for them to burry. I can¡¯t really imagine what would happen next, but the scene of my aunt sobbing uncontrollably at her own daughter''s funeral when my cousin died in a car accident at 16 flashes through my mind. My cousin¡¯s whole high school class turned out for the funeral too. My aunt had made an dramatic scene, crying out loudly, ¡°Oh, my baby, my baby¡± over and over again in her husband''s arms during practically the whole funeral. It wasn¡¯t anything like my grandma''s passing which was peaceful at 92 years old. I was very young when my cousin died but I remember that traumatic experience vividly. Would my mom cry like that at my funeral too? I was hardly a baby at 28 anymore, but Mom constantly said we were all always her babies. She was always very protective and supportive of me, sometimes annoyingly so. My thoughts had been turning towards the moroose, but now I was suddenly angry, very angry. I loved my mom and didn¡¯t want her to experience what my Aunt did. Feeling the rush of anger I stand up quickly knowing in the back of my mind that if I was to get this done, I was going to need to use this feeling while it lasted. I can hear the Emperor¡¯s cackling now . ¡°Goooood. Your hate has made you powerful.¡± I¡¯m going to take a page from the emperor¡¯s book today, sorry Yoda. Steeling my resolve, I clenched my barrel and ignited the Flare skill. Seeing the bright flames filled me with confidence and without a second wasted I rushed the door and flung it open ready to meet my tormentor and return its favor in kind. Before the zombie could react, I recklessly reached out and grabbed a firm hold of the loose torn clothes on its torso with my left hand and, with teeth gritten hard enough to make my jaw sore, I brought the flame covered marker barrel down upon the head of the creature with all my rage as if I was the very picture of Thor himself. The result was beyond my expectations. The head exploded like a melon smashed with a baseball bat. A very heavy baseball bat. It seems my flare was more effective than I had guessed as I doubt I had the strength to exert such force against even a partially decomposed skull. The headless beast crumpled at the hit and I let go of the ragged shirt and let gravity take the zombie down. I also release the flare skill, I had only used it for a few seconds so I should have plenty of mp left. As for myself, I was stunned. I did not expect nor appreciate a face full of Zombie gore. Thankfully, I am apparently not the yelling type in a fight for which I was currently very glad as I cannot imagine getting a mouthful of that stuff. And also I am now thankfull I hadn¡¯t gotten LASIK surgery like my friends and sister-in-law had as my glasses worked good enough to keep the stuff out of my eyes. My face was still covered though. A couple notifications appear before me and I barely note that i can see the screen clearly despite my glasses currently being covered in goo. Weird.
Warning! You have been infected by the instance bacteria! Negative effects will stack!
That one doesn''t surprise me considering I am now covered in zombie gore. I should try to clean off before I cleanse myself.
Congradulations! You have leveled up!
That¡¯s nice. It took an unprecedented amount of effort on my part to destroy the zombie, it¡¯s nice to be rewarded, especially so promptly. I would have appreciated some sort of further explanation though. Ignoring my gore spattered face because I don''t want to think about it, I look up to my ? symbol andopen my status screen.
Inner Light: (level 2) A unique light attribute class able to learn every light attribute skill and uses mana directly for every skill. Class locks all other potential attributes and skill types. Skill usage limited only to quantity of Mana available
Mana: 15/30 Regen: 1.4832 per minute
Skills: Cleanse Clear body of foreign influences
Heal Enhances natural healing
Flare Coat external surfaces with light energy to give a light attribute to object
Double nice, my mana pool increased and so did my regen. Doing quick mental math, which is not my forte, I figure I got an increase of 20% in each category. I wonder if it is always 20% for each new level. I¡¯ll have to keep an eye on that. Also, I only had Flare on for, like, 5 seconds max. How did I use ten of my mp? I suspect that an attack uses more mp than simply activating it. I¡¯ll have to keep an eye on that too. I can¡¯t ignore my face anymore so I decide to try to confront my fears again. How should I clean this off? My water supply is currently precarious and I don¡¯t have an unlimited amount of shirts despite my attempts to do so so I don¡¯t have to do laundry as often. Getting a bright idea, I decide to try to cleanse my body with my skill, I still have plenty of mana to experiment with. I speak, ¡°cleanse¡± softly and feel the warm chills spread around my body. I try to mentally force it up to my skin and face and it feels like it worked. I check my face and I am slightly disappointed. I believe the skill worked, but it only took away the ¡°negative influences¡± but left the gore there. The gore is now more shriveled, dry, and crispy than before, so it brushes off pretty easily, so I guess I can¡¯t be too disappointed. I look at my mp to see that that act used 5 of them. I take off my glasses to wipe them off and notice that they do not appear as cleansed as the rest of my face. Upon touching the gore on it I immediately get another notification that I am infected again. I scowl. That is annoying. Trying to focus my skill again, I try to cleanse my glasses specifically and I am pleased to see it work as the blood and other zombie parts on it dry and wilt like a flower thrown in a fire. I brush it off and now have a new appreciation for my skill. It appears that I can extend my clense skill to objects outside of my body at the cost of additional mp. Now I am left with a headless body on my doorstep and my walls and door covered in gore too. Dang, if I knew it was going to be a mess like this I would have planned the attack differently. I set out to clean up my room and clear away the body, ignoring the constant infection notifications along the way and I consider what I had done. Or, what I almost couldn¡¯t do. Looks like I am going to have to sympathize more with the useless characters going forward in those movies as it turned out I am one of them too. I was only able to act once I had been given enough time to recoup myself and work up some anger. I can¡¯t count on those type of conveniences in the future, not if I want to survive. I am going to have to change, I think. Easy going, happy go lucky, and careless me are going to have to go away for awhile and I¡¯m going to have to try to find a way to bring out my inner aggression and decisiveness. I am sure it¡¯s in there somewhere, perhaps a few dozen more life and death experiences will awaken it. I have always had good problem solving skills, now I just need to figure out how to bring those abilities to work outside of a computer. Bummer, I''ve always been bad at that. When I bought a lawn mower earlier this spring it took me an hour and a half to assemble the four wheels. I am just not a good handyman. I finally grab the corpse and move it towards the place I had laid Pesos to rest. I am a little intrigued by the lack of fungus on this zombie, though. Pesos is all fungus now, but despite being a half dead zombie already with plenty of flesh still available, there is not a hint of said fungus on this zombie. I¡¯ll have to keep an eye on that. Wow, my list of follow ups is getting pretty long. After depositing the body I glance up at the ugly green sky. It¡¯s so green, even I can see that it is green. I can also see clouds floating across the sky peacefully, a mockery of my earth. After a moment I shake my fist theatrically at it and stomp back to my place. There are still several unanswered questions regarding food and water, but I feel that I am filled with a strange determination hardly seen in me, even during final exams at university. I swear I am going to survive this damned place and make it back, if its the last thing I¡¯ll do. I¡¯m dying to hear what will be said at my funeral. Chapter 4 ~ Water, water, everywhere As I trudge back to my bedroom I survey the landscape, looking out for any more zombies hanging around. While I seemed to have handled that last zombie pretty readily, I still believe that I am more than able to screw up at key moments in a fight. The last thing I want to do is be caught off guard out here. The only things I spot, though, are the dead trees and rolling rotten hills. There is nothing moving here and it is a little disturbing (this place is plenty disturbing already) to see and hear no life out there whatsoever. I guess it makes sense though, the fungus would probably kill anything that could potentially be life. Let me be clear here, this place is super dreary. These thoughts lead me to my next question. Where had the zombie even come from? The zombie had clothes on, partially destroyed, true, but doesn''t that mean something? Was the zombie just spawned here out of thin air, clothes and everything? If I was keeping with my theory of this place just being inside my head, the obvious answer is yes. Other than that, that seems impossible. Continuing down my line of thought, my face twists in a grimace. Maybe that zombie was another person, brought to this place just like me. Unfortunately for that person though, he had been killed and zombified. If that was the case, were there more of them out there, more people, potential alive, brought here at the same time I had been? I scan the horizon again, looking closely for movement. I suppose that means I should go exploring soon and try to confirm my theories. Another idea is that there is some sort of settlement here, but that seems unlikely in this deathly place. Or maybe the settlement is further away and this person somehow died here and became corrupted. I have no idea, but I guess none of these questions matter now. Maybe later I can pursue the answers but for now I need to focus on my immediate problems, food and water. And speaking of food and water I am both parched and hungry after my hardcore activities of zombie killing. I enter my room again and head for the half empty water jug sitting on the floor in the corner. I grab it and bring it up to take a drink. Just before I let the water fall into my mouth though, I am struck with a sense of foreboding. Was this water clean? I hesitate for a second and then put the container down and unscrew the lid to it. It comes off in an unpleasant squelch and I peer inside with dismay. My suspicion is correct, what once was nice clear water now has something that looks like a mix between my moldy containers of food in my fridge and algae floating on water. It also smells very bad. I don¡¯t want to think what it would have been like to take a mouthful of that stuff, but I suppose the nozzle to the jug would have been clogged anyway. I am not about to give up though and with my newfound confidence in my cleanse ability I boldly stick my hand into the sludge, happy to find that only the top layer had solidified, and, ignoring my new infection notification, I softly say ¡°cleanse.¡± I had to finagle with the skill for a few moments in order to remember the feeling of directing the skill outside my body, but I watch closely as my skill makes short work of the algae, turning it from an unhealthy green to a sickly dusty grey. My skill, does not, however, make the particles in my water disappear. That is very disappointing because I now have a, theoretically, clean half gallon of water with a bunch of floating particles in it. It makes the backwash of a friend look tame in comparison. I am not about to straight up drink that, no matter how thirsty I am. Fortunately, I have some other options available to me, such as filters. Specifically, shirts I can use as filters. I put the jug aside and grab a clean shirt from my dresser and I also empty a plastic container filled with important personal documents. Those documents go unceremoniously on the floor as I do not think I need my W-2 statements in this place. I still had them because instead of filing my Tax return in April, I filed for a delay so that my new deadline was in October. I suppose though, if I ever get back, I will need them.... Whatever, I can always ask my employer to reprint them. Placing the plastic tub on the floor and securing a dark blue t-shirt around it, I bring over my water jug and slowly poor its contents over the shirt. ¡­ Eww, that is a lot of scum on that shirt now. But thankfully, I now have a plastic tub full of clean, clear water! Great success! And even better, I take my shirt back and shake it out, applying liberal amounts of the cleanse skill in the meantime. See? Good as new. Now, with only a slight hesitation to sniff my water, I take a well deserved drink. Mmmmm. Yeah, that¡¯s the good stuff. Nothing like nice clean water after a hard day¡¯s work. Well, a morning¡¯s work at least. It¡¯s not easy dragging dog or zombie corpses around, let me tell you. Man, this is good stuff. I don¡¯t even get an infection notice as I drink it. I should really consider bottling this up and selling it here, I bet clean water is in short supply, I could make a fortune. Perhaps this new drink could help clear up Mr zombie¡¯s skin too. ¡­ Yeah, it was just a joke, but I thought it was funny. With only myself to talk to, I got to keep the spirits up. I smack my lips in satisfaction, noting that I had drank up about half of my supply. I bet in a few hours though it would all be contaminated again. I¡¯m not sure storage of water will have a very good return on investment, not unless I can figure out a way to really seal it up. My thirst is now quensched but that does not really solve my problem. In my business classes at university they taught us about the importance of sustainability and I have taken those lessons to heart. Temporary and short term solutions have very little value to me if there is no long term plan that ensures my survival. It would be like a retailer not purchasing more inventory from the profits of his sales. In short term that might mean more cash for him, but in long term he has shot himself in the foot. Not smart. I wipe out my water jug and then pour my remaining clean water back into it, my mind working out an idea. Fortunately, there seems to be a simple and straightforward solution to my water issue and it thankfully does not involve me trying to cleanse my own urine and drinking it. I¡¯m pretty sure that I am standing in a bog or marsh of some kind (I¡¯m not sure what the difference would be between those two things) so there is actually water everywhere. Unclean and deadly water probably, but with the capabilities already demonstrated by my skill, I think it won¡¯t be a problem. I take my plastic tub out with me along with the same blue shirt to see it if can find a pool of gross water nearby I can either scoop out, mop up, or in some way, fill my plastic tub up. The ground I am stepping on is soft and squishy so I assume that if I get desperate I can try to sponge up some water, but that sounds time consuming and tedious. I am hoping for some kind of pond. I walk quietly forward in the putrid green forest, keeping an eye out for more potential zombies or other creatures. I carry my tub under my right arm but I am keeping my barrel firmly in my right hand, ready to flare up at a moments notice. I am also being careful not to move too far away from my bedroom, keeping it well in sight as i slowly scout out the areas around me. ¡­ Only the soft squelching sounds of my footsteps are heard throughout the dead forest. ¡­ Oh man, this is terrible. Being away from the familiarity of my bedroom is much more unnerving than I thought it would be. Walking out here, I feel that I am truly alone and I can feel the fear starting to rise up in me, the awful reality of this place closing in around me. I am only yards away from my room, but now an ugly set of brush is blocking my view of it and I feel well and truly in a place where I do not belong. Where now civilized person belongs. ... I feel like running back to my room, shut my door, and never step out here again. I can feel my breathes starting to become short and quick and I see a notification come up again telling me I am infected. Snarling at it, I quickly use cleanse and promise myself that after I get my water, I¡¯ll lock myself in my room for the rest of the day. I can figure out food tomorrow. Before I lose my nerve and rush back to my bedroom I finally spot what I am looking for. What seems to be a small slow moving stream of green sludge about 3 feet across appears in front of me, not 15 yards from my house. Looking back, I can see my roof through the trees and brush. And when I say slow moving, I mean slow moving. Like molasses and a cold january morning slow. I stand still, observing it, and I can barely tell that it is flowing, the sticks and rots moving barely perceptively down the stream. I look that each way, but the stream quickly disappears around bends in both directions. Looking at it, I wonder if there is actually any water in there, or if it is all just goo and gobs of algae and worse rolling down the incline. At this point, I am ready to just give up in fear and disgust but then I remember that I am supposed to have more determination. Earlier me was full of it, remember? ¡­ Barely, that moment hardly even seems real anymore. I don¡¯t even recognize him, why should I trust him? ¡­ Enough joking aside, I need to get serious. Screwing up my courage, I shakily get down next to the toxic sludge river and set aside my barrel so that I can grab my tub with both hands and dip it in.This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. I scan the horizon once more to make sure I am alone and then get to work. The stream is surprisingly deep and while the top few inches of the stream is basically solid mucus, below there is much more liquid stuff and I quickly fill my container with a good test sized portion, careful not to let it get too full and pull away from my hands. I actually have experience with that issue as I clearly remember the traumatic experience from my childhood. You see, when I was much younger, 7 or 8 I believe, our parents decided to take us 4 boys on a three week vacation during summer, driving while towing a camper to Yellowstone National Park and then back to Michigan. We made lots of stops along the way at various campgrounds too. However, for my parents the vacation was a nightmare as what had been, until that point, a dependable car, quickly became the car from hell as at every other city it seemed new problems arose with it, forcing my parents to get tow trucks, auto repairs, and everything else under the sun along the way. Having four boys to manage between the ages of 12 and 8 did not help either. This all came to culmination in Wyoming where the care finally went caput, dying out in a small town with a population of 143. I recall my mother scrambling out of the overheated and smoking car screaming for all she was worth that she was never going to get back into it ever again. Curiously, the small town actually had a small car dealership in it along with a campground and sympathetic residence. On the spot, my parents sold their old car and purchased a brand new one. A the small campground though, there was a tiny decorative stream that I was playing in with our main bucket used in camping. I had gotten careless and lost control of it and I calmly watched it slowly float away. I could have chased after it and gotten the bucket, but for some reason I didn¡¯t. I was, like, 8 at the time, give me a break. When my parents found out I lost the bucket though, they exploded. I recognize now that they were just really upset at the whole situation and they really were not as mad at me as they made it out to be. But they put the fear of God into me then and ever since I have been extra careful around creeks. Some traumas never go away. So I paid careful attention to the tub and expertly took out of the creek a good portion of the disgusting poison water. The water was truly horrible and I grimaced as I simply took my hands and manually scooped out as much solid waste as I could before cleansing it. The process worked though, and while the the cost of mp was higher than I would have liked it, I was left with dirty gray water that I could now filter and drink. Great success again, I believe. Even with the almost constant notification of infection, I was left feeling accomplished. I had used up 15 of my mp in the process though, so I would definitely have to be careful when I do this in the future. I get up slowly, careful not to spill the tub of water. But then I notice my barrel is still on the ground and I scowl and kneel carefully, balancing the tub one handed on my thigh as I reach out to grab my weapon. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot a little movement in the creek about ten feet to my left. Turning to it suspiciously I spot no ripples, not that there would be any in the sludge. I stare at the offending spot for a few moments, about to decide it was nothing when the spot suddenly erupts. A small creature the size of a basketball shoots out of the sludge as if propelled by the arm of God. The creature itself is truly horrible, like a mixture of that starfish creature from Alien that impregnates the crew member and a jellyfish with lots of tendrils. I was not ready to be impregnated by the alien and then eaten alive on the inside. It sounds too horrible and painful and is best left inside a fictional story and not in my life. Shrieking out in horror, I drop the tub of water all over myself and fall back on my rear. The creature is zoned in on my face though and only my left hand raised in protection prevents the vile creature from getting to it. My lips hadn''t even touched that of a girl¡¯s yet, why would I allow this ungodly creature steal my first kiss? Much like how my right arm protected me from Pesos, now my left arm is protecting me from this new horror. I really need to give these guys a raise. As soon as the creature touches my left hand it wraps itself tightly around it, digging in and securing its spot like it was permanently claiming its new territory. Oh, the horror. Intense pain then consumes me as it feels like my left arm is on fire now, a horrible burning, acidic pain. Even worse, through the pain I could still feel the slimy cold trendrils of the creature wrapping aroud and digging into me. I''m prety sure I started screaming like banshee. My first instinct was to literally cut my losses and dismember myself at the left elbow and run away screaming. Fortunately or unfortunately, I didn¡¯t have a sword, axe, or light saber on me to make it happen. My second instinct was to fall down and thrash around on the ground while screaming and trying to tear the bloodsucking and flesh consuming beast off of me. While I was able to squash the latter part of that instinct, I did do a fair amount of panicked thrashing. I still had 15 mp left though, should be more than enough to deal with this little devil. I wasn''t sure what an activiation of flare would do for me though. My trusty marker barrel had fallen to the wayside in my panic and I was sure a stab would be effective against it anyway considering it was attached to my arm. Furthermore, I could probably coat my arm it the Flare skill itself and them slam it on the ground, again, I haven''t used the skill enough to understand its effects andi wasn''t in a position to start experimenting. Surely, this is important information that I have neglected to study, I''ll have to rememdy that when I get back to my room. So I decided to use my trusty cleanse skill and focus it all on my arm. With any luck the light attribute skill would be super effective against the creature. Through the pain I barely shout out, ¡°CLEANSE!¡± and at first nothing happens. A few seconds later though, the creature screams in an unearthly high shriek and its grip loosens up on me and then lets go completely, falling to the ground weakly. It then starts twitching uncontrollably. The tips of its tendrils and soft belly/mouth appear blackened and burnt. I look back at my left arm, looking bloody, mangled, and much worse for wear. I don¡¯t want to think what that thing would have done to my face. I look back at the writhing creature and see that it is now slowly crawling back towards the creek in an attempt to escape. Oh no, you bastard. Part of being a mature adult is being able to understand yourself and after 28 years I believe I have a pretty good grip on who I am. I am not an ambitious man, I am perfectly happy with my mediocre job, life, grades, house, and material wealth. I value instead a few close and healthy relationships, and above all, close friends and family. Being diplomatic, calm, understanding, patient, gentle, and easy going are the characteristics I choose to prioritize as these are the qualities that keep these relationships rock solid. There is little that upsets me. However, pain is an exception. Pain makes me pissed. I mean super pissed. Especially pain caused intentionally to me maliciously by another being. I am sure that pain makes everybody angry, but there used to be very little pain in my life but what little pain I get seems to make be exceptionally angry, perhaps compensating for my lack of passion during normally stressful circumstances. I know what I should do, use my little remaining mp to help my exposed and bloody arm and then high tail it back to my room for some r and r. But I see the creature frantically trying to run away and all I can think is this scum thinks it can escape after what it did to me?I want to destroy this bastard that gave me so much torment. And right now I feel I am perfectly justified to doing so; my inhibitions are gone. Recklessly, I reach out with my right handand pick up my lost weapon, keeping an eye on the creature and for any more potential jellyfish flying at me. I walk over to it and study it for a moment as it slowly crawls back toward the sludge water. I see the creature, looing cooked, but before I activate flare and bring Thor''s hammer down on it, I hesitate. ... Isn''t it odd that a cleanse skill would wound the jellyfish so badly? I have to wonder about the nature of this skill. The description says it removes negative influences from a body, but it doesn''t really define what that means. Does my skill define negatives in relation to me and my health? If that was true, I can see why it would reject the jellyfish creature from my body, but I don''t seewhy it would wound it so badly. I glance up at my status to see that my mp is at 11. I think I have enough for a quick experiment. Quickly, I take the tip of my finger and poke the jellyfish with the cleanse skill. I jump as it let''s out a loud, fingernails scraping across a chalk boad, scream again. Jeez, that''s really freaky. But seeing the new burnt spot I had just made on the creature, I believe I have provided a proof for my new theory. By hurting that creature just now that clearly wasn''t influencing me either way it shows that negativity isn''t subjective to the system, but rather it is objective. In other words, Ithinkcertain creatures, actions, skills, and attributes are defined as "negative" things and thus my anti-negative skillharms them. Interesting. Its not a fool proof theory, but it is my now current running one. I also like it because it means that my attribute and skills can be considered "positive" ones. Nice. After my last touch though, the jellyfish monstrocity has stopped crawling away, seemingly now too wounded to move and I can feel my rage draining away from me. I''ve never been one to hold onto that kind of thing, I hear its not healthy anyway. Thecreature is still alive, though, and is slowly breathing and twitching. Suddenly, I feel a little guilty for experimenting on the creature rather than just finishing off. I know I shouldn''t feel sorry for the clearly hostile beast, but it''s inobvious agony now. I shouldput it out of its misery.
Warning! You have been infected by instance bacteria! Negative effects will stack
... For that matter, I should get myself out of misery. My mp is back up to 12 so I say, "cleanse" and then "heal",grimacing again as the icy water feeling pours across my body and then concentrates on my left arm. I watch the process intently and am still amazed at the rapid knitting of flesh. Truly amazing, this is an awsome skill, thank you so much Mr system. Oh wait, you got me into this mess in the first place. Nevermind, I hate you, please die. After the healing my mp is at 2, and I am not confident I can use flare to give the jellyfish a deathblow without using it all up. I''m pretty sure passing out here would leave me in a bad spot as any ol'' wondering zombie, another jellyfish, or whatever other creatures are still lurking undiscovered in this placecould come and kill me dead. Not to mention another infection. I''m also not willing to stomp, strangle, smother, or in any other way, dispatch the creature without my skill. Feeling exposed and vulnerable with so little mp and also very wet and uncomfortable, I decide I''m not about to wait around for my mp to regenerate. I grab my tub andmove quickly and carefully back to my place. I found water, so quest complete I guess, only another near death experience was the cost. Well maybe not a neardeath experience, deeply tramatizing experience, yes, but I feel that even if it had gotten to my face I would be able to "cleanse" or "flare" it off before it suffocated me. The creature really didn''t do that much damage. I suppose if I ran out of mp it would be dangerouse. Jeeze,I feel like my skills are like the ultimate trump card to this place. ... I guess still have a love/hate relationship with Mr system. If he ever becomes personified I''ll give him a big fat hug and that punch him right in the kisser. ... I''ll come back later and get more water when my mp is full again. Entering my home, I get another notification.
Congratulations! You have leveled up!
Huh, I guess the jellyfish died. Chapter 5 ~ Pesos I close the door to my bedroom and pull down my status sheet, ready to see the new stats now that I leveled up again.
Inner Light: (level 3) A unique light attribute class able to learn every light attribute skill and uses mana directly for every skill. Class locks all other potential attributes and skill types. Skill usage limited only to quantity of Mana available
Mana: 4/36 Regen: 1.7798 per minute
Skills: Cleanse Clear body of foreign influences
Heal Enhances natural healing
Flare Coat external surfaces with light energy to give a light attribute to object
Sweet. Looks like another 20% increase in mana pool and regen? Yeah, I think that is right. How many decimal places is that regen going to go to? It would be annoying if my screen here was filled up with hundreds of the numbers if it got to that. However, I must say I am a little surprised at the level up. I would have thought that level two would be harder to get to, was the jellyfish creature really worth enough for a level up? Sure, it was a surprise attack, but I fended it off rather easily. ¡­ Man, I¡¯ve got to think of a name for those things, saying jellyfish creature uses too many syllables. How about¡­ Wynot? Why not, I don¡¯t care, I¡¯m not good at naming things. I hereby dub thee ugly creatures Wynots. Be grateful for the name. But seriously, I don¡¯t think a single wynot is worth a whole level, there must be something else to it. Perhaps my use of the skills? But it seems too easy to level up just using skills over and over again. Maybe I got experience for curing my near constant infections. That makes sense to me, if the system considered each infection a low level enemy I defeat, it might give me experience every time I cleanse it. It¡¯s worth considering, maybe I¡¯ll go on a cleansing rampage and start taking out swaths of this stuff to see if I level up. It¡¯s worth a try. But for now, it¡¯s time to focus on my other problem. Food. Sure, a person can survive much longer without food than water, but I will still need it eventually. Plus, my first world stomach is complaining to me. Its not used to not eating breakfast, not to mention working hard without anything. I guess I have babied it too much. If I had known I was going to end up in a place like this I would have disciplined it more. As it is, it is acting like a spoiled kid, shame on you. ¡­ Yeah, this is a problem. On my short hike outside my fortress I did not spot anything alive, besides the wynot. And all the fungus and mushrooms and what not. Seriously though, it is really odd because there are the remains of an entire forest out there, fallen trees, sticks, bushes, foliage, the whole nine yards of a forest was out there, all dead. What does this mean? Soon, there will not be anything else left for the fungus to feed off of and it will die out completely. It¡¯s not a long term plan, like a virus whose only goal is to replicate endlessly. Think about it, what would be the end result if a virus succeeded? There would be nothing, nothing left for the virus to use anymore and then it would die out too. I guess it is a mindless thing. But the dead forest begs a question. Was it alive until just recently when it got invaded and destroyed by the fungus? Or is this just a setting of an artificial storyline? Neither one of those ideas are good for me. Judging by how aggressive the disease of this place is, I hope that I am not on some planet somewhere (God forbid I¡¯m on earth) getting blitzkrieged by this disease, I¡¯d be basically alone in the whole place. ¡­ Here¡¯s an idea, maybe I¡¯m on a planet that has been a victim of biological warfare. It''s possible I guess, but then again, the possibilities really do seem to be endless and none of that would explain how I got here anyway. So I am leaning towards an artificial storyline setting where we will see huge rotting trees forever but never trees growing to become that big in the first place. Considering everything else, this seems most likely. So, back to food. It¡¯s not looking pretty but I¡¯m going to have to look into eating some mushrooms. Properly cleansed of course. Actually, I am very fond of mushrooms back on earth. My father always hated them though so none of us kids grew up eating them as mom wouldn¡¯t make any meals with them in it. I remember that day though, like it was yesterday. I was in middle school and mom was sauteing a bunch of mushrooms in a pan in butter. I had never seen them in our house before but they smelled delicious and apparently she was making a nice snack for herself. At my upturned eyes she gave me a small serving, telling me that I might not like them, but it turned out I did not take after my dad in the mushroom hating department. They were delicious, especially when you add some salt to it. Mmmmmm, sodium. Now, I too, purchase portabella mushrooms from time to time and cook them up just like mom did. It¡¯s always a scrumptious treat. I can¡¯t do it when my sister is around though, she doesn¡¯t like the smell. Oh well. Now, I don¡¯t have access to fire or salt here though, so no matter what mushrooms I get, it won¡¯t be nearly as good as what I would want them to be. In fact, I¡¯m pretty sure they are going to be awful either way. When my mp is back up to reasonable levels I head back out and start looking for some mushrooms. It¡¯s really easy, as they are everywhere. I stay away from the place where Pesos is ¡°buried¡± and find plenty of mushrooms of every kind. I grab the nearest one, a large fat purple thing with a wide brim hat and almost no stalk sticking out from a dead tree. In the meantime I am very aware of potential jump scares during this process and I am keeping a close eye on everything. My right hand is on ¡°Thor¡¯s hammer¡± tightly. Dang, what was it called in the movies anyway? I can¡¯t remember, stink. It would be cooler if I could. Upon grabbing the mushroom with my left hand I am notified that I am infected. Big suprise. I cleanse myself, and then cleanse the mushroom, focusing the warm chills onto the obese shroom. ¡­ It slowly turns to purple dust and then falls away.Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. ¡­ Crap, I thought that might happen. Considering the algae in the water did the same thing when I cleansed it, I am not surprised. I try a bunch more of the different mushrooms around me, hoping that maybe one of them would work for me, but none of them do. I am very disappointed. ¡­ How far should I take my experiments with the mushrooms? As I look down at my, now, pile of mushroom dust, I agonize over this tough question. Undoubtedly, further testing would become very, very unpleasant. ¡­ I guess this is important for my survival, but, oh man. Couldn¡¯t the mushrooms just have worked like I wanted them to? So I have two more experiments I could run with these things. The first is simple, I eat a mushroom uncleansed and then I use my healing skill to combat the harmful effects. I don¡¯t think I can use cleanse while eating them because then they would probably turn to dust inside of me. I don¡¯t like this option because it sounds like it will be painful and just plain awful though I suppose that with my cleanse and heal skill working alternatively, I won¡¯t have to fear for my life no matter how poisoned I get. The second option is to take this pile of dust and just eat that. I know that all the negative effects are gone from it now at least, but it could also be just plain dust. It would be like eating carbon and trying to digest it, there wouldn¡¯t be anything to digest and it would probably just wreck my bowels. Oh, my poor bowels, they are already starting to hurt just thinking about it. ¡­ So which do I try first? I suppose I can potentially answer both questions by just eating the mushrooms and if things go south, cleanse them into powder inside my body and see what happens. ¡­ Oh man, this is going to be rough. The things I do for food. Maybe I should wait until I am more desperate. I am saved from making that decision by a notification. However, it was not a good notification and it''s that blasted red and blue writing, is there a setting somewhere where i can change the color scheme?
Warning! A Vengeance Spirit has been sent after you!
What vengeance spirit? Is it that bastard wynot? Did he not learn his lesson? I pwned that noob, he should know his place in the food chain here, he doesn¡¯t have the credentials to seek vengeance. I¡¯ll destroy him again if he comes back. On that note, I start looking around anxiously in case the phantom wynot can now live outside of water and comes jumping out at me from the trees. I gratefully put away the exotic mushroom I was going to eat and I slowly make my way back to my bedroom. Besides the wynot, I suppose that zombie might hold a grudge against me, I did bash his head in without giving him a chance to speak. He could have been there to ask for a cup of sugar and just had really bad social manners, banging away at my door. And now the innocent misunderstanding caused him to turn into a vengeful spirit, how tragic. ¡­ I don¡¯t know, can an undead creature turn into another type of undead creature? ... On that note, what are the grounds for something to become a notification? I didn¡¯t get a notification when the zombie or wynot attacked me but I do get one now? It seems to me the system is inconsistent with its message policy. I would have appreciated a lot more info up front, but it seems to be holding out on me, not bothering to give any explanations on anything, not on the rules, not on the leveling system, not even as to what a vengeance spirit is. Why can¡¯t I get any data on my enemies, why does it have to be so stingy all the time? I guess I have to be grateful for what I have, having a spirit come out of nowhere at you would be very difficult to fend off if I didn¡¯t know I had to be wary for it. I beat a retreat to my room, keeping a sharp eye out for flying spirit wynots. I actually took a couple of mushrooms in with me despite myself. I can¡¯t stop my important work by worrying about a potential attack that could come from any time anywhere. ¡­ Gee, this is getting worse by the minute. I peek out my door as I slowly close it, paranoid now about ghosts. Then I spot a moving figure in the distance, standing nobly on top of a hill crest a ways away. Then I see it turn its head up and howl like a wolf, clear and piercing in the air. It was then I realized I had forgotten about something. There was another creature here that I had killed and I guess considering my history with her she would qualify as a vengeful spirit. That¡¯s right, it¡¯s Pesos that is now barreling down at me, and it doesn¡¯t look like it¡¯s going to be a happy reunion where I pet her head and say over and over again, ¡°who¡¯s a good dog?¡± while she prances around me, too excited to stay still. Peeking out at her, I can see some details that would identify her as a spirit now. She is still all black with a grey patch under her belly, coming up to her face and now with red eyes. She doesn''t seem to be covered in short fur anymore though, just a black coat in whatever spirits use as skin. There are also little black flames around her feet and tail giving her an incorporeal look. I¡¯m glad that she is actually running and not flying at me. Hopefully she¡¯ll stay with that limitation, but I am not going to discount that possibility. She looks pretty cool actually, if she was my pet familiar instead of my vengeful spirit, I would be stoked. As it is, she is coming up on me fast, dressed to kill. Have you ever seen a greyhound run? You probably have on TV at least, it''s a pretty awesome thing. In full stride they run with a double extension gallop and I understand that that is a pretty rare feature in an animal. I have had the pleasure of seeing Pesos run at full speed before, taking her to the dog park and letting her off her leash. It is an amazing thing to behold as she sprints around like a pinball, bowling over other dogs and what not. She can¡¯t turnquickly obviously, but she is so fast and cool it hardly matters. It¡¯s scary when she comes straight at you though. Pesos had been a racer too, after she retired from racing with, I think, 3 wins under her coller, my twin and his wife adopted/rescued/bought¡± her. It¡¯s a cool program that matches the dogs with willing owners. After they got the dog and learning how wonderful she was, several friends had gotten rescue dogs as well. It¡¯s a beautiful thing. It''s funny though, my twin and his wife are both runners too, so they thought getting a running partner in Pesos would be great but poor Pesos has practically no stamina. After a few minutes of running she would be completely pooped. She only really had two gears too, either full sprint or a walk, neither good for the speed at which humans run. And it turns out Pesos was a big couch potato anyway, laying around and sleeping all the time. Ha, ha, I loved that dog. Currently, Pesos appeared to be using her impressive speed to ram me. It was scary back when she was alive at the dog park and it is even scarier now to see her coming at me as a vengeful spirit, but a part of me is notunderstandingher plan. She is a 35 pound dog and I am a 140 lb man. No matter how fast she is going, I don¡¯t think she will be the winner in a collision, especially if I take some precautions and prepare for her. Like I am doing now. Sorry Pesos, looks like I am going to have to kill you again. No hard feeling please, I¡¯ll be sure to properly bury you this time and not leave you to the mushrooms if that is what this is about. I have a decent amount of mana, currently at 26, so I am confident I can use flare liberally here. Pesos appears to be aiming to breakdown my front door, though, with her bull charge, so I just lightly close it and coat the entire thing in flare. It¡¯s costly at 3 mp a second, but judging by Pesos¡¯ speed, she¡¯ll be here any moment now- There is a muffled ¡°fwump!¡± and I feel the door shake a little. I wait a couple more seconds and then cancel the flare skill and open the door slightly, in time to see wisps of black smoke scatter and then fade away. I stare out intently at the wisps, but they do not appear to be reforming. ¡­ Huh, that was easy. Sorry again, Pesos, you really don¡¯t have a body I can bury anyway, I hope that was not what this was about. I stare out and the last of the wisps disappear and all is peaceful again in the world. Dang, that really was too easy. For something that seemed to qualify for a notification, it really didn¡¯t live up to my expectations. What¡¯s the catch? Suddenly a new notification appears, and I realize I should not have asked.
Vengeance Spirit defeated! Countdown until respawn
I knew it. Poor Pesos, forced to attack me forever. Poor me, forced to kill Pesos over and over again. I look up at the new timer in the top left corner of my vision. 1,356:36 ¡­ I am guessing that¡¯s minutes and seconds? So what, that¡¯s¡­ uh¡­. Hold on¡­ A little less than 24 hours? Dang. Double dang. This sucks. I bet I won¡¯t be able to use the ol¡¯ closethedoor in her face trick next time either, I bet she¡¯ll be learning each time. Oh man, I am pissed now. If her revival was a natural phenomenon I can understand, but if I remember the first notification correctly it said that Pesos was sent after me. That means there is somebody else out here who did this. He presumably wants me dead, but I¡¯ve got his number now. There¡¯s a good chance he¡¯s the cause of all this in the first place too. Oh man, I¡¯m going to find him and I am going to end him. I do not appreciate getting f***ed with. Chapter 6 ~ Rough Day Having an enemy is a new experience for me. Sure, I have had to deal with annoying or irritating people before, but my interactions with them was mostly just enduring their antics and thinking about ways to avoid them in the future. Having a twin growing up meant I had back up all the time so a concept such as bullying never really occurred. Plus, I was a dense idiot as a child so I probably wouldn¡¯t have been able to recognize bullying if the guy was punching me in the face. That said, I now had an enemy, a being that had taken Pesos and twisted her into a mockery of the lovable furball she once was and sent her to kill me. With an enemy now, I had somebody I could blame for everything, whether reasonable or not. Was it this being¡¯s fault I am here in the first place? Possibly, but maybe not. But you bet I¡¯m going to be cursing him for it forever, though. Demonizing your enemy is a long and cherished tradition of humans, a tactic used to make it easier to kill them and, considering the being had summoned a vengeance spirit against me, I think he is already mostly a demon. ¡­ That scum, I am going to find him and hopefully get out of this mess. But right now I have two big problems. The first is still a lack of food. After I had defeated Pesos I waited a bit and then continued my exploration of my mushroom problem. It turns out that the mushrooms in this area are in no way digestible. I found this out the hard way, the scientific method way. I formed an appropriate hypothesis, created a controlled experiment, eliminated as many variables as possible, executed the experiment, and then cataloged the results. You do not want to see the results. Let¡¯s just say, I will not be publishing my findings in any scientific journal despite, what I believe to be, my strict adherence to standard procedures. The conclusion is straightforward though, it seems there is no part of any mushroom that I can digest without dying. Whether or not the mushrooms actually possess any nutrients to begin with remains undetermined, but it is my opinion that there aren¡¯t any, no matter how I slice it. Perhaps it¡¯s just the setting of this place, but these mushrooms were not meant to be eaten and no amount of cheating on my part was going to change that. ¡­ Oh God, it was just awful. I thought of several ideas too, on possible ways to make the mushroom edible, including added water to the cleansed dust to make dust patties, making increasingly less dense versions of mushroom shakes, and, as I had suggested earlier, straight up eating one of those god awful mushrooms. That said, I only did one experiment, eating the foul thing straight up. One try was enough; no matter how I alternatively healed and cleansed during the most excruciating ten minutes of my life, the results were always the same, a violent expulsion of the poisonous matter, most often painfully, from the top and bottom. My father is very lactose intolerant and any consumption of dairy ends with very painful hours on the toilet for him. I have new sympathy for him if what he experiences is anything like what I had. Needless to say, the result had left me exhausted and weak. Thank God, my heal skill seemed to cure any soreness I had, otherwise I fear I would be bedridden for a week. This experience now is the top of my list of most awful things I have experienced, the now second place being that time during a three hour ride in a hot car in a damp bathing suit. That had been after a morning of canoeing on a river with the whole family, but the itchy butt syndrome that came during the car ride led to extreme measures being taken to relieve the intolerable discomfort at that time. The conclusion, though, has got me very worried and scared now. I fear that much less the mushrooms, everything in this place will be impossible to eat. I will surely starve to death. Judas Maude, of all the horrible things here, poison, infection, curses, zombies, wynots, and spirits it is going to be good old fashion food that will be the death of me. The whole thing only took a few minutes and I am now out back near the place where I had deposited the zombie and Pesos. Pesos is completely gone now, there is nothing left from where I had laid her, not even a big pile of mushrooms. In contrast, the remains of the zombie looked untouched, just as I had left them. How that can be I have no idea, but it is true nonetheless. I do not know what to make of this knowledge, but it is disturbing. I head back to my room to look for a change of clothes, I had ruined my current ones. This leads me to my second immediate problem. There are a bunch of zombies gathering around my house and around me now. There are like, eight or nine of them and looking closely I see a couple skeletons among them as well, white and sturdy looking. In contrast to the zombies these skeletons show no decomposition, just pristine bleach white bones, presumably held together by some unholy voodoo. In addition, these new foes are holding weapons, unlike their zombie counterparts, both are holding what appears to be long knives. Or short swords, I¡¯m not a weapons expert so I don¡¯t really know the difference. ... Huh, I suppose that these skeletons are a class up from the zombies. As soon as I make an appearance all of their heads turn towards me like some sort of synchronized dance and it is really creepy. Then they all start moving toward me. ¡­ Holy crap, I am not prepared to deal with this. This is supposed to be the starting village, right? I¡¯m supposed to get these things in twos and three at the most, not ten of them at once. How am I supposed to deal with all of these guys at the same time? Plus, the skeletons have weapons? Despite their rusted and crusted look, those things look like they could actually hurt me! I¡¯ve never had to work with weapons before, how am I supposed to deal with this? My first thought is to run to my room and close the door, initiating my previous strategy of bottlenecking their advance in order to deal with them individually. That strategy also puts me in my room which feels infinitely safer than exposed out here in the open. But maybe that would be the wrong choice here. My greatest advantage over these freaks is my agility, even the new skeletons appear to be extremely slow. If I trap myself in the room I take away that factor for me. Also, I don¡¯t think I would have enough mp to take everybody out before I run out. I could probably take down the first four or five, but its not like they would let me close the door back up and recoup my mp. If nothing else, the corpses would be in the way of that. And with the new skeletons involved, they may decide to break through my windows too. So, the room idea is out, I fear it would only become a death trap in this scenario. So that leaves me with only one other option as running away isn''t on the table. I¡¯m not willing to give up my sole place of safety to these buggers and I think they would just follow me anyway, no matter how slow they are. I can¡¯t run from them forever. So that leaves kiting tactics. I don¡¯t have unlimited stamina, and I am not the most athletic person, but I think I can run around these fools long enough to take them out one by one without them actually reaching me. It will take awhile, but it is the option with the lowest risk and highest possibility of working. Let¡¯s do this! ¡­ Oh, my feet won¡¯t move. ¡­ And my arms are frozen. I can also feel my heart beating wildly inside of me as if I am going to go into cardiac arrest at any moment. ... I take another look out at the undead slowly closing in around me and I can now taste my fear. Each zombie looks horribly realistic, mucus, froth, puss, and all other types of ungodly excrements are dripping off their bodies. And the two skeletons are hanging back a little, but their empty eye sockets and cold smiles are sending shivers down my spine. Is this the power of numbers? I¡¯ve never been surrounded by hostile people before and the pressure it is creating is not to be underestimated. Maybe there is an intimidation skill in use? I don¡¯t know, I haven¡¯t received a notification of such a thing. Bottom line is that I am paralyzed again. I can feel my mind going blank. The first zombie reaches me and when it touches me I finally feel unfrozen and I let out a panicked shriek and take Thor¡¯s hammer and bash him across the side of his face. I forget to use flare though and all it does is push him away while also knocking his jaw off. It falls onto the ground in a soft thump and I watch in horror as the zombie straightens up and comes at me once more. Another zombie is right behind it. I think that my current disability isn¡¯t from a skill, but rather I am just a panicked civilian faced with death. I was too careless and I feel that I am going to die here. My hands are shaking and I can barely keep a hold of the marker barrel. The first zombie reaches out to grab me again and I push its outstretched hands aside and back pedal as fast as possible away from it, sputtering incoherently. My back runs into another body though and before I can turn around I feel cold slimy hands grab my shoulders and a sharp pain on my neck. I let out a strangled yell as the pain hurts horribly like somebody is ripping the skin off of my neck. Which, I suppose is exactly what is happening. The pain makes me move though, returning to me most of my faculties. I pull away forcefully from the new zombie, feeling the rest of my patch of skin ripping away. I give out another painful scream and turn to face this new creature. I see its mouth chewing on the part of my neck it has claimed for himself. I can feel the blood draining away from my face (and my neck) as I stare at the horror. Thankfully, I guess the pain woke me up out of my daze and I quickly use heal and cleanse on myself even as my left hand presses up against the gaping wound on my neck, trying to hold back the blood loss. I can¡¯t breathe either, the awful sensation of drowning fills me up. I suppose that is my own blood that is filling my lungs. Looks like he got a good chunk of me. Even as I heal myself, I bring up my right hand carrying Thor¡¯s hammer and back hand it across this guy''s face, this time remembering to use flare on it. His head explodes, just like the first zombie and I am briefly satisfied to see him go down. Thankfully, the blast this time sprayed the gore away from me. After another second though, I heave on the spot, ejecting the blood from my lungs. A lot of it comes out too, like a pint, all over on the ground. The fungi are going to have a party at that spot later, I am sure. I suppose I have lost a lot of blood from this, and I know that will make me weak. Still, I feel the skin regrowing on my neck, at least my heal is working. I won¡¯t die today. ¡­ Or at least right now, I still have eight zombies and two skeletons looking to murder me. Looking around quickly, I retreat towards an area away from the approaching horde, waiting for my wound to finish healing. Soon enough, it does but I feel weak and drained at the end. I check my mp to see it is at 10 and I can only curse myself. What the hell is wrong with me? Why did I have to freeze up? I lost precious time and mp due to that flop, I¡¯m lucky to be alive. What kind of survival instincts do we humans have that makes us freeze up in fear? How is that survival of the fittest? I got a bad start, but my kiting plan is still the best option for me, it¡¯s just going to be trickier now. I¡¯m going to have to try my best and stay away from the skeletons for now and pick off as many zombies as slowly as I can. Feeling fully healed and now with adrenaline coursing through me, I hype myself up for the attack. The zombies are slow, but they are also many and close together limiting my movements around them. Still, I can circle them with ease and come at their exposed side, which is what I do. The first two zombies that I saw are the closest now and I take a steadying breath and run up next to it, keeping it between the second zombie and myself. I bat away his hands and then draw in close for another back handed swing of Thor¡¯s hammer, using as little flare as possible. The head explodes spectacularly again, but he falls forward on me instead, spilling his rotton blood and gore all over me. I can''t push the heavy body away from me in time before the second zombie is on me. With my mobility restricted for a few moments, all I can do is hammer down on the new zombie¡¯s head, making sure to keep my mouth closed. It explodes too, dosing my face with its gore. It is stinking and just plain awful.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. I quickly push the zombie off of me and retreat again, trying to wipe my face off with my hand and shirt, but those two are just as filthy and nothing comes of it. I am infected again, but since I am covered in gore, I will just get immediately infected again unless I cleanse my entire body, inside and out, and I don¡¯t have the mp for that. I pull down my stat, and it is at two. I don¡¯t have the mp for anything actually. I¡¯ll have to endure the infection for now. With so little mp, I can¡¯t engage any zombies, so I run around them a little, stalling for time for my mp to regenerate. The zombies are just as mindless as always, just making a beeline for me in whatever direction I am, stumbling over each other in the process. I study the two skeletons in the meantime though, they are behaving very differently from the zombies. They seem content to stay in the back of the zombies, despite the fact that they are clearly a little faster than them. They also appear to be studying me too, just like I am studying them, as if looking for the right opportunity to strike. If that is true, that means they have at least a modicum of intelligence and are not to be underestimated. I¡¯ll have to be very wary of them. I run around the corner of my house and wait for the zombies to come at me. It¡¯s been several minutes of running around and I can feel my stamina decreasing at the exercise. And man, despite the gore all around me, I am starving. I feel that my mp is back up to a level where I can attack again and as the leading zombie comes around the corner, I grab its front and backhand its head again, watching as the head explodes against the wall of my house. The backhand seems to be the winning technique for me here, while the forearm swing might be able to carry more strength behind it, it needs more room for me to move my arm properly, while the back hand starting at my chest only needs that little space in front of me to work. Sure, I can¡¯t put nearly as much power into it, but with the flare skill, it does not appear to be a problem. Besides, with all the ping-pong I have played in my life, backhands are second nature to me. My family has always kept an open table available in the basement and my sibling and I all grew up playing the sport. I¡¯m pretty decent at it too. As the zombie¡¯s headless corpse falls to the ground another two pass the corner together. I think I have enough mp to take them both out, but as I reach towards the first one I see a white skeleton pass the corner too, taking the corner wide to get to the side of me. My eyes widen at his approach and I retreat right before I was going to attack the two zombies. As I move away, the skeleton stabs with his crusty knife at where I had been, hitting mostly empty air and the sleeve of one of the zombies, embedding its knife into the wall of my bedroom. ¡­ Oh God, that thing is smart. If I had attacked those zombies, I would have been skewered in my side. The knife is momentarily stuck into the side of my house, but I do not take advantage of it. Several more zombies and the other skeleton pass the corner too and I back up carefully, watching as the first skeleton wretches his knife out of my house and fixes an evil smile at me. ¡­ I mean, those things are always smiling because they are skeletons with perfect white teeth, but seriously, that one looked intentionally evil. It¡¯s dark hollow eyes stared at me mercilessly as if annoyed that his attack failed. I shiver, and run around the house once more. Dang, those skeletons are even more troublesome than I thought. I run around my house as quickly as possible, hoping to catch some of the zombies from behind, but again, when I reach them they are all facing me as if they had infrared sensors. It doesn¡¯t matter, I take out a couple more as the skeletons are on the wrong side of the pack. I also keep a close eye behind me, making sure nobody is sneaking up. Sure enough, before I could take out more than three zombies a lone skeleton appears behind me and the other appears in front of me with the other zombies. Sneaky dogs. I retreat towards the right, away from my house to avoid the pincer attack. The two skeletons look like they are ready for business though, they are no longer waiting in the back of their gang, but are taking the initiative against me. I guess I have taken out over half of their men. I am running low on stamina though, I was never the most in shape guy to begin with and adrenaline can only last for so long. I am feeling a little sluggish too and I fear that I have yet to deal with the worst of this situation. Suddenly, I get an idea and checking out my little mp that I have, I risk it and use an expensive cleanse on myself. Immediately I feel a lot better, still tired, but I don''t feel sluggish and sleepy anymore. Damned infection. Looks like I won¡¯t be able to ignore its effects for long, if it''s going to debuff me so much. I waste time and run around a bit more. Another zombie appears from the forest and I take out the straggler before he can join the group, carefully avoiding having its gore splatter on me. Man, this is a huge pain, those zombies are walking biohazards.
Congratulations! You have leveled up!
Great, that¡¯s nice to see. I have taken out a lot of enemies though, I had actually been expecting this a little earlier. The exponential growth of required experience to level up appears to be real. The worst part is that leveling up doesn¡¯t fill up my current amount of mp, it just increases my mp pool and my regen rate. I would have appreciated a 30 point fill up, you know? I look around at my enemies and then spare a quick glance at my status page.
Inner Light: (level 4) A unique light attribute class able to learn every light attribute skill and uses mana directly for every skill. Class locks all other potential attributes and skill types. Skill usage limited only to quantity of Mana available
Mana: 5/43.2 Regen: 2.135808 per minute
Skills: Cleanse Clear body of foreign influences
Heal Enhances natural healing
Flare Coat external surfaces with light energy to give a light attribute to object
Jeeze, for how powerful my skills are, my mp amount really is limiting me. I guess that is the balancing factor here, but prolonged battles are not going to be my forte. If my regen and mana pool keep going up by an even 20%, it¡¯s going to take 20 minutes for my pool to fully regenerate no matter what my level is. And that decimal place, who are they kidding? There are only three zombies left and, of course, the two skeletons. Those skeletons are getting particularly bold too, perhaps sensing my weakness. They do not leave their group of zombies, but always stay at the forefront. They are working together too, looking to pincer me, cut me off, and otherwise trap me and take me out. How come these skeletons are so smart? They literally don¡¯t have any brains, they shouldn¡¯t be able to work together like this. I am really exhausted now from all the running, but thankfully I am able to keep one step ahead of the skeletons. That said, the skeletons are not letting me get close to any of the zombies and I am unable to pick off anymore without engaging them. It¡¯s a good plan on their part and I am starting to hate them for it. Looks like if I want to win this fight I am going to have to do it in one explosive encounter, taking them out one by one is not going to work anymore. So I dance around some more, delaying as much as possible in order to regenerate my mp to max for the first time in this battle. The skeletons look increasingly irritated, too, as I continually dodge and evade them, running around my house over and over again, keeping it between me and them as much as possible. As undead, they probably don''t get tired but I bet they are cursing their own lack of speed right now. It''s the only thing keeping them from making a shish kabob out of me. If they had Pesos with them, though, things would be a different story and I look up at my timer counting down her respawn. I¡¯ve got to make sure in the future I won¡¯t have to face them together because unless pesos recklessly charges me again, they could use her speed to trap me and hold me down long enough to kill me off. Or if they had any ranged attackers like mages. Just thinking about it causes me to shiver in fear. It¡¯s been a good fifteen minutes, though, of me running around and I can tell we are both getting tired if this. Me physically and them mentally. I hope their irritation causes them to make some mistakes and I hope my strength can hang on until the end. These bastards are really annoying. While I had been running around I had been trying to come up with a plan on how to face these foes, but despite everything I hadn¡¯t been able to come up with anything good. The skeletons are too smart to let me pick them off and judging by the way they have been stabbing and swinging their knives around, they know how to use them. They don¡¯t seem to have much physical strength though, so there is my silver lining. Yay me. So that leaves only one tactic left to me, bull rush with liberal amounts of flare used. It¡¯s not the smartest thing, but I am getting kind of desperate now. I can feel my legs shaking in exhaustion. With my mp full now I take a stuttering breath and prepare myself for the charge. I am at a corner of my house again and I noted before I passed it that one skeleton is in the front while the other is in the back. Good, I do not want to take them both on at the same time. The first skeleton is in the lead and passes the corner aggressively. He doesn¡¯t appear to expect my charge though and I am able to grab its right forearm bone, I¡¯m not sure what it is called, and I shove its weapon away from me. The forearm feels cold and full of tiny pores at my touch but I bring my marker barrel down upon its skull as fast as I can. It was not to be, though, as the skeleton is able to take the force of my blow with its left arm by grabbing my own right arm before I can shatter its skull with Thor¡¯s hammer. Either the skeleton is stronger than I thought it would be or I am just too weak right now, and while it can¡¯t muster its strength to stab me in the side, it can hold my right arm in place to prevent me from smacking it. He appears to want to hold me in place so that his buddies can get me. It¡¯s a good plan too as his grip has me locked in place, but I am not about to allow that to happen to me. I grin at it quickly and use flare on my right arm where he is grabbing me and am pleased to see is hand smoke and then disintegrate at the touch. Before he can recover I follow through on my blow and smash his skull in, the shards hitting me and cutting my face at the force of the explosion. I am glad again that I am wearing glasses, although they are pretty smeared right now. Instead of collapsing headlessly like the zombies, this skelton just falls apart, its bones disassembling and falling to the ground. I don¡¯t have time to enjoy my victory though as the other three zombies and the last skelton are on me, the skeleton looking particularly vengeful after the loss of its friend. I don¡¯t have time to disentangle myself so I switch to brawl mode, swinging and smashing recklessly against my enemies. Two of the zombies go down before I feel a slicing pain at my side. I turn to see the other skeleton with his knife buried into me. Thankfully, it is not a disabling wound, although it is extremely painful. The pain just gives me strength right now though, and, with my arms tangled up in the two zombie corpses and the one zombie still alive, I turn and headbut the skeleton, who is standing too close to me, as hard as I can. Of course, I use my flare skill on my own forehead. That skeleton¡¯s head explodes too, disassembling and falling down just like its earlier partner. Its knife is still embedded in my gut though, but I ignore it and I focus on the last zombie, trying to scramble over the bodies of its fellow men. Still enraged, I untangle myself and smash the last foe away, it too, falling down headless and defeated. Looking around quickly, I see that that was the end of them, my hour long and exhausting fight finally reaching its conclusion. Despite myself, I let out a roar of triumph, like the T-rex standing over its fallen prey. At least I hope it¡¯s that awesome. Hopefully I won¡¯t be attracting more attention with that noise. The pain and foreign object inserted in my side requires my immediate attention though, and I look at it with a twisted grimace. I almost pass out from the sight, the rusted and crusty handle sticking out from my back, where one of my kidneys is located. Man, if I didn¡¯t have the heal skill I would be dead several thousand times over. I was infected so many times during that fight I lost count. I look up to my unread messages and see a (23) listed there. I open them up quickly and see that, yup, they are all infection notices. Dang, no special rewards for me? Not even another level up? Curses. I look at my remaining mp and decide to wait a few more minutes before taking the knife out of me. I cleanse myself just in case and immediately feel a little better. Blasted infections. Taking more steadying breathes, I am not looking forward to taking this knife out, it is going to be awful. I don¡¯t even remember the pain of it coming in, but It will surely be even more horrible coming out. Thankfully, it¡¯s just a stab wound and not a slice across my stomach. I don¡¯t think I could handle seeing my guts spill out. When my mp reaches 20, I decide it was time and reach down toward the hilt. Just touching it hurts like the dickens and I can feel my pulse quicken at what I am about to do. I take a quick deep breath and then pull it out asfast as possible. I let out an awful yell, the kind that would make bystanders cringe and I don¡¯t think I got it out very cleanly. I probably cut up more stuff taking it out than when it came in. It looks like I bit my tongue too, when that happened, I can taste the iron liquid filling my mouth. I¡¯ll have to remember to be more careful next time. With my eyes tearing up, I use heal and settle down quickly as the pain slowly fades from both my side and my mouth. And my head actually, it was quite sore from where I headbutted that skeleton. I also using my cleanse skill and I keep the knife and head to my room, picking up the other skeleton¡¯s knife along the way. To the victor goes the spoils I guess, but I am not sure how much more helpful these will be against the zombies and skeletons. Maybe against those wynots. I am tired, just dead tired. Actually, I am alive tired, that sounds more appropriate because I am alive and have survived the ambush. I¡¯m not sure if these things naturally gathered, if Pesos had summoned them, or if my enemy called them against me, but either way I survived and got stronger. Now I am very hungry and sleepy, but for now, the food will have to wait. I deposit my new knives on my dresser and fall down into my bed, hardly bothering to take off my gross stinky clothes. It¡¯s time for a well deserved nap and I cast a quick heal and cleanse on myself before I go to sleep. Doesn''t hurt to be carefull, I also made sure I locked my door. I¡¯ll have to figure out food when I wake up. Chapter 7 ~ Dinner Plans It was the annual family christmas gathering and it was being held at my Aunt and Uncle¡¯s place, downtown in their nice condo. We were several floors up in the sprawling complex and it was a beautiful evening with the huge bay windows overlooking the snow covered city. The whole extended family was there, as they always are, my Dad''s brother and sister with their respective spouses, children, and children¡¯s children along with my immediate family of ten and their respective wives and children. As always, the atmosphere is warm and festive, the christmas tree and the room tastefully decorated for the season and snacks piled up on the kitchen counter, ready to be eaten. Of the kids of my generation, besides my two younger adopted sisters, I was the only one who was not married. However, with me today was my girlfriend, and she sat next to me with my arm wrapped around her shoulders in the loveseat. I had brought her last year too, to virtually the exact same gathering where I had first introduced her to all the extended family. She had blended in well with everybody, a little shy at first with my loud, and fun family, but she eventually got used to it. I had been dating her for a year and a half now and she was practically one of us at this point. I vaguely recall breaking up with her earlier that year, but we had worked it out and had gotten back together. I now sit and bask in the warmth of the moment, neither of us speaking (we weren¡¯t much socialites in general), but sitting back and absorbing the joyous atmosphere together. I turn and look at her and notice that her long red hair that she usually kept in an easy ponytail was down and lightly curled for the occasion. She was also wearing a little make up around her eyes and cheeks giving her an lovely rosy complexion. She was also wearing that necklace I had given her last christmas along with a dark grey sweater that complimented her nicely. Apparently sensing my gaze she turned to me with her freckled face and gave me a bright warm smile that melted my heart. But then there was something wrong, there was an urgency about her. We needed to get going, and fast. Soon she was driving, which was really unusual as I always drove us everywhere. She was also driving like a madwoman to, like I had never seen her drive before. Her urgency was infectious. It was night, and it was lightly raining, the headlights of her car illuminating the puddles and raindrops as they fell onto the hard pitted asphalt of the road. We were in the shadier part of town, where the pot holes were left unattended longer and parked cars were everywhere. She was driving too fast for my taste, I thought that at any moment she would ram into one of the stationary cars in the dim light, but she never did. Large splashes of water from the puddles she ran through would wash over the front window, blinding us momentarily, but she paid it no mind and calmly kept the car moving quickly. I was stressed and anxious at what we were doing, but it seemed right and an odd sort of determination filled me. Whatever it was, we were doing it together. Somebody was chasing us, it seemed. And, I think we were tracking somebody too. Eventually, we did stop and she pulled over to the side of the road on a random street. We had found what we were looking for. She had gotten out, and started talking to a uniformed officer, both standing in the rain, barely seen in our car¡¯s headlights. I didn''t get out though, I was too tired. I could hardly catch my breath, not after all that running I just did. In blazing hot days like this it was almost torture to play ultimate frisbee, the sun itself burning the top of my head where my hair was receding. I didn¡¯t like the idea of putting sunscreen up there, but I guess it was time to face reality. Still, my lungs felt like they were burning, I could not get enough air. My mild exercise induced asthma was kicking in, usually it only happens in cold weather, but being frustrated is a real catalyst for it. And, boy, was I frustrated now. I had won the first two games of racquetball against this older guy. He was around my dad¡¯s age, but I took him pretty readily the first game and then barely got him the second. The next three proved too much for me as my competitive spirit and immature attitude kicked in and I couldn¡¯t handle the frustration. I should have beaten him, but the longer we played the worse I became and the better he got. I was so frustrated, and angry, I could feel the tears starting to come as they always do when I feel this way. Ashamed now, I turn away, forfeiting the rest of the match, trying to collect myself and catch my breath. I was choking up, my windpipe constricting in stubbornness. I take deep breaths, but I am not getting enough oxygen. I can¡¯t breathe, I can¡¯t get any air, something is covering my mouth, like a pillow, like I was being suffocated like in One flew over the cuckoo''s nest. I CAN¡¯T BREATHE! I wake up and quickly realize that I actually can¡¯t breathe. It¡¯s super disorienting and I also think the lack of oxygen is disrupting my ability to think clearly. A dull little sunlight is making its way through the blinds, but my mind is entirely attuned to my burning lungs. I panic and thrash around on my bed, my hands moving up to my throat is if I was being choked. But I am not being choked from the outside, I am being suffocated from within. I try coughing, but there is nothing there to work with. I start seeing blackness and realize I am about to pass out and then die. Something is clogging my esophagus. Then it hits me like a 70 mile an hour freight train and I weakly mouth before I pass out, ¡°cleanse¡±. I can feel the mass in my lungs and esophagus start to dissolve and I take gasping breaths even as it has yet to be cleared entirely. It causes me to start coughing erratically, but soon enough my passageway is clear and I can breathe for real. Jeez. Deep breathes, in and out, in and out. I almost just died. Again. I stare up with a scowl at the little (1) in the top left corner of my vision. I open it up and sure enough it is an infection notice. This is bad news for me, if I can¡¯t go several hours without being suffocated to death then I am going to have a real hard time getting rest in. The fear of death while asleep might keep me awake now anyway. My ears are ringing and I lay back on my bed, rubbing my face with my hands, trying to wake myself up completely. And to commiserate with myself over my many issues. The first is that my ex-girlfriend appeared in my dreams again. I had never bought into the whole subconscious ideas making themselves real in dreams before, but after breaking up with her I see my own fantasies being played out about once a month with her in it. I can hardly believe it, much less admit to anybody else that I, apparently, had not gotten over her yet. Especially when I was the one who broke up with her. I mean actually, she broke up with me, but technically I broke up with her as I was the one that said, ¡°we should break up.¡± But she forced my hand. After dating her for a year, I had finally screwed up the courage to tell her I loved her. I was so worried about what I would have to do after she replied that she loved me too, that I never considered that she might not. And in fact, she did not reciprocate my feelings and she made it clear in no uncertain terms that she did not think she could come to love me and and didn¡¯t think that I was a potential husband for her. I took it very well, actually, I was so stunned by her revelation that I was cordial, understanding, caring, and pragmatic all the way until I dropped her off at her front door and never saw her again. I didn''t cry until I was halfway home. My family all agrees that she was the villain in the relationship and supported me through my grief. That said, I was not in any way angry at her. She stated her reasons clearly and what she was looking for in a man and I did not blame her for what she was looking for. I could only regret that I did not have the qualities she wanted, but another part of me didn¡¯t want to be that anyway. I had just misread her completely because I am a dense idiot. I truly believe with all my heart that our breakup was the best for both of us. I just wish she would stop appearing in my dreams. That stalker. Finally stable and aware of my bearings, I shake my head and look around my room. I am shocked at what I see. Mom, it looks like you were right again. There are mushrooms growing in my laundry. And everywhere else in my room. As I was looking around, my four walls and room (not to mention the floor) were decomposing around me. Dang, I can¡¯t let this happen, especially after I beat off an entire gang of thugs with knives for this turf. This is my turf, I¡¯m not letting some shrooms take it away! I jump out of bed and immediately start cleansing everything within reach. I literally can¡¯t afford to let my room fall apart, that would leave me exposed. And, thinking about it for a moment, I was stupid not to have realized it earlier. Of course all this stuff is going to get attacked, its mostly organic too. Considering how fast Pesos went, I¡¯m surprised it took even this long.This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. I had gone for my walls first, the structure of the place. If those fall apart, I am a real goner. Dark green stains were starting to encroach everywhere too, so I put my hands up against the wall and shouted, ¡°cleanse¡± as if shouting the skill would make it work harder. I don''t want to think about how much the wood has already deteriorated, but I push lightly against the walls and it doesn''t fall down. That¡¯s good enough for me. Soon, my room is being filled with a fine gray dust, but I can¡¯t do anything about that. At least it is a clean dust. I¡¯ll have to tell my mom that next time she remarks on the dust in my home. Getting to all the nooks and crannies of my room was tricky, but I believe, worth it. I don¡¯t know how long I am going to be here, but I want my stuff to last as long as it can. Even my dirty laundry. ¡­ Although, sense I just cleansed it, can it still be considered dirty laundry? Now, that is food for thought. And speaking of food¡­ Man, I am starving. It is still light out, so I guess it is still the same day as before, Saturday, if Saturday even exists here. I head outside, after a quick peek out my window and doors. There is no army of zombies waiting for me but their corpses are still out here. Ewwwwww. There are a lot of them and they don¡¯t even have the decency to just compose away and disappear in a few hours. They are just as ugly and rotten as I had left them. The bones from the skeletons are left untouched too. That doesn''t seem right. I¡¯m going to have to ignore them for now I don¡¯t have the energy to move them anyway. Humans are supposed to last for days, I think, without food , but I really don¡¯t feel that way right now. Besides, I am a very skinny guy, I have never been able to put on weight. I suppose that will change after I hit thirty, but that hasn¡¯t happened yet. I could use those few pounds now¡­ I ignore the battlefield and start cleansing the outside of my bedroom. It might be overkill, but I¡¯ve got the mp for it now. I can spare it to make doubly sure my stronghold won¡¯t collapse on me. Thinking about the sleeping problem though, if I really can¡¯t sleep for a few hours without having the fungi try to kill me then I am going to be in for a rough time. But I think there is something else at play here. My whole room was filled with the fungi and I was breathing it in the entire time. It had had over twelve hours of this place to get infected. However, if I can keep it clean in the future and think that will solve the problem and increase the time limit before I get infected. It seems reasonable and is worth a shot. Plus, I think I will set my phone alarm for three hours after I fall asleep, to check my infection rate. I don¡¯t have much battery left, but this seems like a worthy cause. I have cleansed my four walls, but I can¡¯t get to my roof, it is too high up and my ladder didn¡¯t come with me. Additionally, there are no large climbable trees nearby to get up there. I¡¯ll just have to do a good job from below and hope nothing falls on it. Does it even rain here? Who knows. With that issue out of the way now, I can no longer ignore my stomach. The truth is, I have had an idea for food for a while now, but I was hoping I could delay and come up with something else. Unfortunately, I could not, which leaves me looking ruefully down past my house, out towards the way of the small stream. And the Wynots. I can¡¯t get the image out of my head of the slightly cooked Wynot. That¡¯s right, It''s come down to killing and eating the creature that was bent on killing and eating me. Isn¡¯t that lovely. Part of me is wishing that they will not be edible, just the thought of those horrid slimy tentacles wrapped around me makes me shiver. But the other part of me, specifically, my stomach part, wishes it will taste like chicken. Nummy, nummy, chicken. With a sigh I head back to my room and grab thor''s hammer and I also grab one of the two knives I looted from the skeletons. Not that I would know, but the knife doesn¡¯t appear to be that special. It has a short solid handle made of metal that is barely long enough to grab securely. There is no guard, just a foot long jagged and crusted blade, sharp on both sides. I inspect it a moment and then use cleanse on it. Most of the crustiness comes off, but it doesn''t help much. I wonder briefly if this was the one that stabbed me, but then I look at the other and I can¡¯t tell. Oh well, it''s not like it matters. I check my mp for a sec and then activate flare, looking at it as the skill coats the weapon. After a little experimentation I find I am able to focus the skill on just a part of the blade if I want to, the blade, the edge, the tip, whatever. As soon as I let go though, it disappears. I guess no projectiles for me than, that¡¯s a bummer. I still had dreams of getting my paintball marker up and running and shooting flare covered projectiles against my enemies, but I guess that will never be. The blade is not that sharp, I have a kitchen knife that is sharper, but it will do. And perhaps sharpness doesn¡¯t matter with the flare skill anyway. There are no sheathes for my knives, which is disappointing, and I don''t have the patience right now to try to rig something up. So I tuck thor¡¯s hammer into my belt and keep my new blade out. I won¡¯t name you now, but it you perform well, I¡¯ll give you that honor. Work well for me my minion. I wait for my mp to max out and then sigh and shake my head one last time. Here goes nothing. I head out to the stream again, still careful as there my be more horrors out there or just more zombies and skeletons. But I encounter nothing but more infection notifications. Seriously, whoever designed this place was a terrible person. There is no way anybody who did not have the cleanse skill or something similar would ever survive. And, considering how weak the mobs are, this is still probably a starter zone. ¡­ Assuming this is a video game. ¡­ I¡¯m going to stop thinking about complicated things until I get some food in my stomach. And if this doesn''t work, I guess that will be never, so good. Constant existential crises is not good for the soul, you gotta take a break every once in a while. I reach the location where I had been attacked last time and reluctantly look towards the spot where I had left that wynot for dead. Sure enough, there is a slight bump of mass there, covered in mushrooms and other fungi. It looks like it is decomposing nicely, unlike the zombies or skeletons. I take this as a good sign, that if the mushrooms want to eat it, it must be good. Now, how to get the wynots out? The obvious way is to walk along the stream until another wynot does the physics defying jump at my face. I¡¯d really like to avoid this tactic, considering how painful my last experience was, but as I stare out into the green murky depths, I really don¡¯t see any other option. It''s not like I can take a piece of my flesh and dangle it into the stream, hoping to get a bite on the line. Jeeze, that image is awful. With another scowl, I tense up and prepare for the worst. I can feel my heart beating quickly again, I don¡¯t think my heart has ever gotten this much use in a single day before. I start edging close to the stream and then start edging slowly up it. I can feel sweat starting to drip down my face as I look for any movement. ¡­ As Willy Wonka said, ¡°The suspense is killing me! I hope it will last.¡± ¡­ Oh my god, this is so much worse than those stupid jump scare games where you know that the little beast on the screen is going to jump out and scream at you, but you can¡¯t do anything about it. In fact, I am about to pull back and recoup myself, my nerves are not taking this well- Like a demon out of hell a wynot launches out of the water as if tied to a rocket booster, aiming straight at my face, its open mouth and tentacles wiggling in anticipation. I scream, yet again, like a dying banshee and I can¡¯t help but crumple and fall away from the incoming projectile. I even manage to stab myself in the shoulder with the knife I was carrying as I fell down. Brilliant, man. Maybe I should have left the sharp knives to the professionals. Still, despite my face having dropped several feet from its previous location, the wynot appeared to have a guidance system which alters its course toward my face. From the sudden pain of stabbing myself, I lose concentration and am unable to get either hand up to block. I am only able to turn my face away as it hits me. The pain is unbearable, whatever neurotoxins it has works very well as my left side of my face feels like it is getting melted off. I let go of my knife and bring both hands up while screaming with everything I have. Fortunately, with what little cognitive functions I have remaining, I am able to piece together what needs to be done and execute a plan. Kill it with fire. While cleanse isn¡¯t really fire, I think it will work just fine for what I want to have happen. I coat my entire body with cleanse, trying to focus my efforts specifically on my face and hands. I seize the creature just as it was letting go of my face with its tendrils, trying to escape. I do not let it go, but hold it squarely, cleansing the beast as fast as possible, and boy it is not going silently. The most god awful high pitched insufferable noise is coming from it as it slowly shrivels and blackens under my skill. It is just awful, truly horrifying. I can see its little mouth twitching as I hold it out in front of me. I feel sick, but maybe it¡¯s just my raw and bloody face. Without even checking my mp, I quickly say, ¡°heal¡± and make that pain go away. Oh sweet, sweet relief, like painkillers for a toothache. Soon, the creature stops screaming and then struggling altogether. It falls limp, completely black and burnt, most of its body shriveled away during the process apparently. All of its tendrils are gone, leaving only a lump that was his main body and mouth. Good God, this had better have been worth it. I groan once its over and stand up slowly, wincing at the sharp pain in my shoulder. Oh yeah, I had stabbed myself there. How dumb can I get? I probably should have died here again. I pull the knife out angrily, but I don¡¯t heal it up. I don¡¯t have the mp currently, I used up a lot more in cooking this than I thought I would. Either that, or healing my face was pretty costly. Fortunately, it is not bleeding much. I take the knife and stab it into my kill like a skewer and with a sigh I walk back to my home. Considering how much this thing shrank as I cleansed it, it will take quite a few of these to keep me fed. Assuming it¡¯s even edible in the first place. I make it back to my place with no problem and enter my room, slamming it shut behind me. First, I heal my shoulder and then I grab my plastic container and dump my prize into it. Taking my knife, I start dissecting it. The most prominent part of this body is its mouth and jaw bones which I carefully pry out. Its unsetting to see those sharp teeth looking as if to chomp down on me at any second. As far as I can tell though, there are no other bones in this thing for which I am grateful. Further dissection only finds a solid lump of cooked flesh with no distinguishable parts. I sniff it, but don¡¯t smell anything one way or another. I give it one last cleanse for good measure and then cut off a bite size chunk. I only hesitate for a moment before I plunge it into my mouth. And then I chew on it. ¡­ And chew and chew and chew and chew. Eventually I swallow, and then take a drink of water to wash it down. Do you know what? It didn¡¯t taste like chicken. Chapter 8 ~ Planning I am not a picky eater, although my mother may beg to differ. And, perhaps, as a child, I had refused to eat carrots, or broccoli, or chili soup. But those where my childish actions and as I grew up and matured as an adult, I realized that I would be fine with anything, as long as it was easy to make. Making food for yourself just doesn¡¯t have the same return on investment to it as making food for others does. When I am alone, I grab whatever may be hanging around my kitchen and eat it on my couch, stale or otherwise. That said, the wynot I ate was beyond a description so mundane as stale. Even words like dry, bland, overcooked, and tough do not come close to approaching the dish that is freshly cleansed wynot. While it is considered a local delicacy, I am afraid the dish leaves my palate wanting a lot of things. Oh wynot, shall I compare thee to several saltines? Thou art more dry and dusty. Large gulps of water barely ease the discomfort you bring. I am parched more thoroughly after eating you than any spoonful of cinnamon. Or shall I compare thee to that of a hard chunk of gum, where no matter how much I chewed, it refused to breakdown under the might of my molars? Nay, tis you who have surpassed them all, leaving only a fleeting memory of their existences. Alright, all kidding aside, the wynot was a tough bastard to kill and even tougher to eat. But eat it I did because for everything that it was it wasn¡¯t disgusting and it filled my stomach. That could not be said about anything else here so I am counting my blessings carefully on this one. I had to almost literally choke the small bites down, but, eh, it could be worse. At least I wasn¡¯t throwing them back up immediately. I finish my dis-satisfying meal and think perhaps that I should leave a poor review anonymously instead of making a scene. I am sure my message will get across to the correct people if I word it properly with cutting phrases that would make the head chef pale. The little set of jaw bones and teeth from the wynot are sitting on my dresser where I had left them, looking for all its worth like a miniature set of very sharp vampire teeth. Should I start collecting these and string them up as a necklace? That would be pretty badass, I would become like a tribal person, showing off my might by displaying the bones of my fallen enemies. But maybe the wynots ar low class monsters here and I would only be making a fool of myself. Besides, the little jaw is creeping me out, so I instead pick it up and toss it outside. As I step out, I notice that there are two zombies ambling towards me, looking tired and hurt as if they are lost travelers, seeking only a roof under their heads to pass the night and perhaps a light meal. Not only am I going to have to decline their request though, I¡¯m also going to have to bash their heads in with thor¡¯s hammer. I¡¯m not racist, It¡¯s just the homeowners association''s policy towards these vagrant types. ¡­ Where are these things coming from anyway? Are they simply spawning? And why now, is there a timing mechanism? ... I look around quickly but I do not spot any other zombies or skeletons. I hope that this is not another mob scene or trap and quickly step back in to reach for Thor¡¯s hammer. I leave the knife though, it failed me when I needed it and does not get a name today. I¡¯ll try the other one tomorrow, but I do not think I will need a knife for this zombie work. And I¡¯ll probably just hurt myself again if I try to use it. The only experience I have ever had with knifing flesh is cutting half frozen chicken breasts. ¡­ Dang, I am still hungry. However delightful the Wynot was, it was not enough. ¡­ I scout out the area again from my door, but I still do not see any extra players involved in this raid. Taking a deep breath, I brace myself at the doorway to engage the enemy.
Warning! You have been infected by airborne instance bacteria! Negative effects will stack
God damn it. I cleanse myself and move forward. After taking out a bunch of these earlier today, I go out and easily smash the skull of the first zombie. Gee, human¡¯s adaptability is amazing. It was only early this morning that I was trembling in my room as a zombie banged on my door. Now I am out here, taking care of business like it is my job, which, I guess it kinda is at this point. I do not feel daunted by these two undead. I prepare to take out the next one, quickly getting around behind it and I consider my flare skill. Of all my skills, my flare skill is my most powerful and while I seem to have explored the possibilities of cleanse pretty thoroughly at this point, I know a lot less about the limitations of flare. When I used it against enemies in the past, the skill explosively dealt damage to these undead, even with very little force behind my hits. Case in point, I coat Thor¡¯s hammer in flare and lightly tap the back of the skull of my last opponent. As if I set off an bomb, the skull explodes away from me, the headless and necklace corpse fall sideways on to the ground. I really don''t want to look at my new fallen foe, but I suppose I should study a fresh one if I want to understand my skill better. Grimacing in distaste, I squat down next to the rotting zombie. ¡­ If this thing jerks up at me in some jumpscare, I am going to lose it. ¡­ Thankfully, the zombie appears to have expired, whatever unholy energy that was animating it has left it completely. Also, looking as closely at the neck as I can stand, I see that the skin and flesh there is slowly disintegrating, suggesting the effect of my skill is still working on it. Fascinating. I study it for a couple more minutes as the effects keep decelerating and then eventually stop, its effect now dissipated. After a few more minutes I reach out and grab the zombies disgusting shoulder and use cleanse on it. I see the shoulder smoking and turning black before eventually just disintegrating away. I pull my hand away and the effect stops immediately. Huh, I thought that might be the case. I was sure it wouldn''t cleanse itself into a lump of white flesh like the wynots did, considering the fungi¡¯s lack of interest toward it, but it is a little comforting to know that cannibalism is off the table. I then reach out and use my heal skill on the zombie. This will be the first time using it on an external object, but I am confident I can figure it out. I feel the cold chills inside me, but I force them over and out of my right hand. A cold blue flame appears on my right hand and I touch the zombie with it. I really hope this does not reanimate it or something. Nothing happens at first, but I keep it up for a few more seconds, ignoring the discomfort of my right hand. Eventually nothing does happen and I let it go. It appears to have a neutral effect on this undead zombie. I consider my heal skill, I have already used it to try to fix my eyesight to perfect 20/20, but alas, it didn¡¯t work. I am still stuck with glasses. I had used it earlier on my scars on my body to great effect. I had a long thin scar on my left bicep were I burned it on the oven several years ago, it looked convincingly like a knife wound. It''s gone now. There was a small round scar on my belly where a mole had been removed about ten years ago and biopsied. Considering my father¡¯s history with skin cancer, the epidemiologist thought it was prudent to take the suspicious looking mole away for testing and it left me with a nice scar. The result was negative for the cancer too, but now my belly is without blemish. My left index finger, I think, was broken when I was a kid, the first knuckle just doesn¡¯t look quite right. It doesn¡¯t affect me at all though, so I had only suspected it. It was confirmed when I used my heal skill on it though, and that one really hurt. I guess it broke it to fix it, but man, if I had known it was going to feel like that I would not have done it. My left ankle had been rolled really badly at a basketball game two years ago and it has been sensitive and a little sore ever since. Not anymore. And my left knee where I rammed the handlebar of my bike when I rammed into a tree on a trail? It got sore easily, but it is all better now. I admit I was a little bit giddy at having all of these things fixed. But my eyesight? That it would not change, nor my colorblindness. I don''t know why, I guess it is because its a pre-existing or natural thing. Genetics, you know? That was what my DNA told my body to do, so who does the heal skill thing he is to contradict my DNA?The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. But this means several other things which I am immediately concerned about. Sure, if I make it back to earth while retaining these powers, I could probably heal my dad¡¯s chronic skin cancer issues. And also my mom¡¯s arthritis, and possibly my eldest brother''s wife who has some sort of bowel disease. But those are not the real issues, no. The real issue is my second brother¡¯s wife, she has multiple sclerosis, or MS for short. Also, it is the, worse, progressive kind. Her story is simple and tragic. She had had a few symptoms during her early marriage, such as a mild numbing of the face from time to time, but the issue was never diagnosed. When she had her first child though, her pregnancy accelerated the process and within a few short months went from being strong and healthy, to weak and in a wheelchair. All the cups got replaced with plastic ones in her house as her grip weakened and the stairs became and impassable obstacle. Worse yet were the treatments, but that¡¯s the heart of the issue of what MS really is. It is an autoimmune disease, where my sister-in law''s body is literally attacking itself, in this case, her spinal cord. There is no cure and treatments mean literally poisoning her body to stop her immune system from attacking her nerves. The several years of disease, treatment, illnesses, and doctors and hospitals and universities had left her a shell of the once bright and energetic person she was. She is actually doing much better these days. Last year she ditched the doctors and hospitals and universities and drugs and her ¡°treatments¡± and went for a more holistic approach. It is very diet based, whole, organic food and what not and she is doing very well. I think it''s just because she¡¯s not getting poisoned anymore, but am I the one with a doctorate? No, I am not. I just know she walked upright with a walker for the first time recently and she and my brother intentionally have another kid coming their way. I never would have thought that they would want that again. But that brings me back to my healing skill. Will it work on a disease like MS, a disease where the body is attacking itself? If I do make it back with my skills instact, it had better work on her or I will be super pissed. To have a heal skill that wouldn''t cure my sister-in-law? What a joke. When I am done experimenting with my heal skill, I turn toward my final skill. I reach out again and grab further down the arm and try to coat with a little flare. The result is astounding as the skin and flesh I am touching just explodes, the arm being torn in half from the kinetic force and little bits of zombie falls everywhere, including on my face. I am once again glad my mouth is closed and my glasses are on. With a quick cleanse, my new infection is gone and worries abated. This finding suggests several things to me. The first is in the nature of a light attribute, which I suspect to be the kryptonite to these undead things. The cleanse skill, which is also a light attribute skill of course, does damage to zombies and wynots but from earlier tests, not any of my books, dressers, or bed. I had already deduced that light and dark, positive and negative, are fixed objective points according the the system and even my light based cleanse skill that is supposed to be a supporting function is super effective against these undead. I suspect that my flare skill is the same, as I can easily coat object in my room with flare, but any interaction with these undead types inflicts massive damage to them. And, judging by how everything explodes on contact with the flare skill, I think it is like certain highly reactive elements in nature, like putting an alkali metal into water. When the skill touches undead the undead itself seems to explode and disintegrate at the same time. Since everything here is undead, that makes my flare skill pretty op here. As long as I have the mp to back it up. I stand up and survey the land around my house, a little unsatisfied that I hadn¡¯t gained another level at that last exchange. While I don''t see any bars or values towards getting the sweet sweet nector of experience points, I feel it¡¯s there somewhere and that I deserved a level for what I had accomplished since my last one. If this was pokemon first gen, I would be checking my status every wild pokemon I defeated now. Maybe these zombies are just too low level, but I feel pretty low level myself at four. Then again, I don¡¯t even know what spread of levels there are out there and what the figures would possibly be for mean, median, mode, and standard deviation. There could be level gazillion people out there for all I know. I look over my house again, and man, it looks like a warzone out here. There are over twelve bodies lying around my house, along with two impressive piles of human bones. It looks like I have gone through a zombie apocalypse. I actually had a really good plan for the zombie apocalypse should it ever occur. My twin and I had spent and evening drawing one up back when we were in high school. It mostly involved guns, swords, and securing an area outside of town where we would be able to eventually start a new community with the ability to grow our own food. It was like a five year plan, but it was made before my twin had a wife and kids. When I get back, we are going to have to make some significant adjustments to it to keep it up to date. Somehow, a zombie apocalypse sounds only too plausible now. Despite how good our plan was, it also involved me staying on earth, not getting moved here, so I guess that point is moot now. Oh well. I see a big flaw in the plan anyway, looking at my yard. When we draw our next one up, we¡¯ll have to include this variable. What on earth do I do with all these bodies? It would take some serious leg work to move them all away from here and I can hardly get my motivation to move neatly cut and stacked wood that the energy company left around my yard in the real world. ... I guess I¡¯ll move the once closest to my door at least. I can¡¯t have these bodies clogging my path. I walk up to the first one and study it, trying to figure out the best way to move it. Carrying it is out of the question, I had heard the old adage about how difficult it is to carry dead bodies. I¡¯ll just grab it by the shoulders and drag it away. As I grab and pull, the zombie¡¯s right arm just comes right off, throwing me off for a second. Then I just stare at it wondering what on earth had happened to me to have me dragging around dismembered zombie corpses across my lawn on a Saturday night. And here I thought I led an uneventful life. I stare at the arm in my hand. Little bits of black blood and goo are dripping off the torn end. ¡­ I can feel my face turning green and I want to throw the thing thing are far away from me as possible. But I don¡¯t, something on it has caught my attention. The clothing. The sleeve of the ragged shirt has come off with its arm and I have to wonder. What kind of material is this? I am no tailor, and even worse I probably could not differentiate cotton from wool if my life depended on it (I think wool is itchy, so maybe I could?). But I think I could recognize a modern piece of clothing even if it is completely soiled. And this piece of cloth does not appear to be so. I look closely at the stitching on the seams, they are too imprecise to be a machine, I think. I carefully put the arm back down next to the zombie as if I accidentally stole it from him and take a look at the rest of his outfit, or what is left of it. The results are intriguing, but I don¡¯t really know what to make of it. It looks like somebody just googled, ¡°What did people wear in the middle ages¡± and then dressed this guy up in the first link that they found. A dark brown tunic, stockings for their legs, and sandals (if anything) on their feet. I didn¡¯t bother looking for undergarments. I leave the zombie there and move to the next closest one. Sure enough, he is wearing the same clothing, albeit with different colors and a different level of decay and disrepair. I go to the third and confirm the same. Lastly, I look around the whole area and discover that all of them are male too, no women to be found. Huh. Either something zombified all the men in a nearby medieval village or a designer created generic zombies to throw at me. ¡­ Crazy, just crazy. I guess this proves that I am in some sort of game. This conclusion really simplifies things for me. Am I in any less danger though? Absolutely not. Fatal and dangerous games are all too common throughout human history. An example that most people would be familiar with would be the gladiator rings during ancient roman times. Slaves, beasts, and warriors fought (often) to the death for the entertainment of the masses. Have I been thrown into this world, virtual or otherwise, to fight for the pleasure of those in control here? That seems likely to me now. And considering it seems I already have an enemy, he is probably my opponent I am to face in order to win and live. Dang, this sucks. Am I going to have to kill a real person? I honestly don¡¯t think I can do that. Hopefully it''s just these undead enemies and a game boss in the end. With my new conclusion motivating me, I start dragging the bodies as far away as I can and consider the issues. Water, security, shelter, and (kinda) food is secured but unstable. In a way that is good for me because then Maslow¡¯s Hierarchy of Needs won¡¯t raise its ugly head ugly head. I don''t have to worry about my social needs as a human, I can keep focusing on surviving. And with the idea for an end to this by defeating my enemy, I have hope to keep on moving forward. Nice. hopefully once I defeat this guy it won¡¯t just put me into another, more dangerous level. ¡­ Don¡¯t think about, man, don¡¯t even think about it. Back on track, with Pesos respawning at me everyday, probably getting stronger and smarter every time she returns, it means that time is not on my side. Also, considering my food supply is currently stale bland meat from blood sucking demons, I don¡¯t think living here for long term is a sustainable plan anyway. So here is the plan, tomorrow, bright and early, search and destroy that bastard. It¡¯s simple and easy and I already have a clue for the direction. Take advantage of my class and smite the fool and then return home. With any luck, nobody would even have noticed I was gone. ¡­ That¡¯s assuming a lot of things, but, hey, it¡¯s all I got. ¡­ I¡¯ll probably need some travel rations if I want to have the energy to do this¡­ ¡­ Goddamnit, I¡¯m going to have to go and ¡°harvest¡± more wynots, aren¡¯t I? I wasn¡¯t completely filled by the single one anyway. Blast, blast, blast, blast. I finish moving all the dead zombie bodies and give a big sigh. Maybe I should have piled them up around my house as a warning to all future zombies to stay away. But maybe that would not work, you¡¯ve seen one undead zombie, you¡¯ve seen them all, right? I glance at the dim and ugly sun overhead. There is not much light left. I hope there aren¡¯t too many attacks at night. With nothing else for it, I return to my room and grab my knife, carefully this time. I¡¯ve got some wynot to hunt. I take my plastic container with me, then I go down to the river. I did not go down there to pray. When I return about an hour later I come back with five dead wynots, a bloody knife, a bad attitude, and a level up. I am so getting out of this hellhole as soon as possible. Chapter 9 ~ Dark Night God damn it. Just God damn it to Hell, those awful stinking beasts. Bloody, bloody God awfulness. Blast, blast, blast, just crap and rats and stinking -worst ever. God Damn it! ¡­ God, I really need to work on my cursing. I am so upset right now and I can¡¯t even articulate how upset I really am because I can¡¯t curse for real. I haven¡¯t been this upset since the web-based program I used at worked failed to pull up the report I needed, but would instead time out in error. For three hours straight. God Damn it, that was just madening too, I just wanted to turn into a gorilla and smash my computer monitor into a hundred billion pieces. I feel the same way right now too. But I held in my rage then, I guess I can hold it in now. If I turn into a green monster, it probably means I am infected again, not a superhero. ¡­ God damn it, I should really try to get better curse words in my vocabulary. It¡¯s not like I don¡¯t know any, I work in the transportation industry for pete¡¯s sake! I just can¡¯t get over the inherent wrongness I feel when I try. Mother, it¡¯s your fault I can¡¯t curse wildly and release my frustrations right now! My trip to get the additional wynots for my journey tomorrow was a fiasco, just utterly awful. If I hadn''t had a heal skill, both my arms, my back and my face would be melted goo right now. Painful melted goo too, with exposed nerves screaming at me, demanding I give up the nuclear launch codes and end my misery. It was worse than when I needed that root canal, and that was bad. Before that experience, I hadn¡¯t known what true pain was, but who would have known that such a small part of my body would emit such paralyzing and all encompassing torment. The day of the root canal was the day I decided that dentists had moved from my hate list to my love list. For my wynot experience, it seemed that no matter what I did or how prepared I was to face those monsters, they always got the jump on me, literally. Each one was a fight to the death and by the fifth one I even stopped being traumatized by their pitiful screaming as I cleansed them. God damn it, the things I do for food. My knife I brought with me was worthless, bringing me more harm than good as I had to be conscious of not stabbing myself in the fights. The wynots seemed to shrug off being stabbed with it like it was no big deal, even the single one that skewered itself on it when it launched itself at me. Instead of dying, it closed itself up around the knife and grabbed onto my two hands that were holding the knife unsteadily. Even worse, with my two hands trapped and with little surface area to cleanse with, I had limited options with dealing with the wynot as it slowly stripped my hands clean of flesh. Not nice, not pretty. ¡­ I guess I was trying to kill and eat it, but God damn it, if this was what our ancestral hunter gatherers had to put up with then it¡¯s a wonder that we all survived up till now. The third wynot got me by even more surprise as the other four as I wasn¡¯t ready and thought I had stood far enough back from the stream to rest and regain my mp. But no, it came at me on a long high arc, beelining toward my face like an intercontinental ballistic missile from hell. That¡¯s the one that got my head too, mostly the top of it as I was sitting down at the time. The thing burned away most of my hair up there too, and while heal cleaned up my skin, it certainly didn¡¯t grow hair back. Now I look half bald and no scar either to make me look like a badass. Instead of being a badass, much less looking like one, I acted much more like a little pansy, screaming wildly at every jumpscare encounter and flailing about like an idiot each time. I guess my experiences with wynots was not increasing my ability to handle them. Pretty pathetic. The only thing I got besides the corpses of the five wynots was a level up. I was too incensed when I got it though and ignored the notification and let it settle up on the top left of my vision with a little (1). I had just been dismissing the infection notifications, there were too many to count during the trip. I make it back to my room and angrily slam my door. The loud noise from it startles me though and I jump at the sound, dropping a couple of the wynot corpses on the floor. ¡­ Oh man, that was loud. I should not have slammed my door. I look to the walls and ceiling of my room to make sure they weren¡¯t about to fall down and crush me. A little dust falls but that is it. But the noise... Suddenly my anger is gone and I pick up my fallen foes and quickly peer out of the filthy green window anxiously. Growling in disgust, I cleanse it hastily and then blow off the grey dust. It doesn¡¯t give my window the windex shine, but it''s better than before. I look out again for several seconds, but I do not spot anything. It¡¯s getting dark now anyway and as far as I could tell, the skeletons didn¡¯t have glowing eyes so I wouldn''t be able to see them in the dark anyway. I had made a lot of noise while I was hunting the wynots, I hadn¡¯t even thought about loudness back then, but what if the yelling had attracted more zombies and skeletons? It wouldn¡¯t be strange for that to happen. That being said, it''s not like they didn¡¯t know where I lived, my house wasn¡¯t going anywhere. From the sporadic zombies I had crushed this day, it seemed that they were just spawning out there randomly, but the skeletons acted like they had some sort of control over them, otherwise I would not have been mobbed by them earlier. What was stopping an all out attack against me? I don¡¯t know, but suddenly I do not feel as safe in my room as I had been earlier. This brings up a question, how much does my enemy know about me. I had assumed that he knew everything his minions knew, but would that be too simple? Pesos undoubtedly knew my location, but with a name like vengeance spirit, I assume the greyhound had a compass attuned to me. Did my enemy know where I was? I defeated all of his people, perhaps none were able to report back to him to tell him of my circumstances. If I had a bunch of disposable skeletons and zombies, I would have some scouting the area at least. That said, how much of my abilities could my enemy actually figure out anyway? All he knows is that I defeated everybody he sent after me. Sure, I have some weaknesses, but its not like he knows them. Furthermore, its not even confirmed that the zombies and skeletons are even from this enemy of mine, they could just be a ¡°natural¡± occurrence of this place. ¡­ Huh, this is pointless speculation. I am going to end up thinking myself in circles and waste time and energy. Stick to the facts, somebody out there sent Pesos to kill me. In a kill or be killed situation, I hope I have the mettle to be the one who survives. I certainly survived those God damn wynots. I¡¯ll figure out more when I head out tomorrow. I give a deep sigh and start cleansing every square inch of my room, I do not want to wake up in three hours with a lump of fungi in my throat again. Once is enough for that kind of experience. For all the drawbacks that staying in a single place brings me, I do not think I would survive long without shelter. Besides the mental comfort this place gives me, sleeping out in the wild would probably have me infected and killed while I was unconscious in no time. I¡¯m not going to risk it if I can. If I get attacked tonight, hopefully I can react before they break down my door. While cleansing, I bring up the notification I had been ignoring.
Congratulations! You have leveled up!
No surprises there. If memory serves me, that would bring me up to level five. Not bad for a single day¡¯s work, I think. As soon as I dismiss the notification to go check out my stats, I get another one.
You have reached level 5! Next stage of access to The System granted. Identify (basic) restriction lifted
Wow, identify? Does that mean what I think it means? Even if it is basic, the system''s stinginess has been cured! Looking to my immediate left, I spy a book on my dresser. Excitedly, I call out, ¡°Identify!¡±
Book (infected)
¡­ Gee, thanks. I guess basic really means basic. There is a lot the system could have said about this book, Foundation verse Empire. Title, Author, date published, maybe even the synopsis on the back. Either the system is not all knowing as it makes itself out to be or basic really is basic. Or perhaps I just expected too much out of it. Maybe it only identifies properly items from the system? At least it gave me a condition. In fact, with this ability, I can see how long it takes to infect something here. Not that I am going to waste my precious phone battery as a timer for this.If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. I hold the book up and even though it is infected, it is not infecting me. That is a good sign. I cleanse it and then use identify on it again.
Book
Good to know it works like I thought it would. I still think it¡¯s doing this awesome book an injustice though. I first read this book during my senior year of high school on a Church trip with my year to Jamaica. Warm breezes and long sandy beaches with hammocks spread around the palm trees just begged for books to be read on them. After I went through my stash I brought from home, the few books that apparently came with my room caught my eye. The first one was a light ero novel and while that had my undivided attention at first, I decided it would be bad form to read that openly at a church function. The second was this book, the second in a series apparently. I ate it up and when I got back home I bought the rest of the trilogy. Isaac Asimov, a man before his time, his sci fi novels from the 1950¡¯s still stand true today. Enough about Isaac, I look back at the wall I had just cleansed and use identify on it. It¡¯s still un-infected and I move back through to where I began. My window as still clean too, so at least my skill lasted a good while. I pull up my status to see what changed.
Inner Light: (level 5) A unique light attribute class able to learn every light attribute skill and uses mana directly for every skill. Class locks all other potential attributes and skill types. Skill usage limited only to quantity of Mana available
Mana: 38/51.84 Regen: 2.5629696 per minute
Skills: Cleanse Clear body of foreign influences
Heal Enhances natural healing
Flare Coat external surfaces with light energy to give a light attribute to object
I am still getting a 20% increase every time, which is nice. I suppose my output would increase too as I encounter stronger enemies so perhaps it¡¯s just meaningless inflation. I see my decimals are still out of control. I am surprised that identify is not on my status screen. Thinking back to the notification, it didn¡¯t say it was a skill, I just assumed it would be. It just said that the restrictions to it was ¡°lifted¡±. I guess that means its a default setting that newbies need to unlock? It¡¯s a good theory. I am getting pretty tired and despite the excitement of my new ability, I have had a long rough day and could use some shut eye. Cleansing the entirety of my room is taking a long time, and here I thought brushing my teeth was a bother before bed. After a good fifteen minutes of cleansing, my room is completely clean now and I am pleased to see that my first cleansed spot is still infection free. It''s completely dark too, so I am using Thor¡¯s hammer as a light source by using my heal skill on it. While the soft blue flames are the least bright of my skills, the heal skill is also the least costly when it is not actually healing anything. It makes a good enough light source and only costs about five mp a minute. Holding the light blue barrel in front of me, now I am curious. I give it a quick identify.
Metal Barrel (Heal)
Huh. I wonder if I can use this barrel, or any object, to extend the reach of my heal skill. While I imagine it would be exponentially more costly to do that, I can see potential scenarios where that would be useful. Ugly, awful scenarios, but potential nonetheless. I cut off the heal skill and then use cleanse on it instead, holding the skill in place.
Metal Barrel (Cleanse)
Same thing. Next I coat it in flare.
Thor¡¯s Hammer: Holy Metal Barrel
No kidding. This is too much. All I can think about is the holy hand grenade and now I have a holy metal barrel. And the name, Thor¡¯s Hammer? Are you kidding me? I am going to get sued. That¡¯s just what I have been calling it in my mind, I¡¯ve never actually said it out loud, you know? I guess this is evidence that the system can read my mind then. That¡¯s pretty disappointing. On the other hand, seeing the name officially on that marker barrel, I feel a little smug. I think I am going to have to consider my flare skill more carefully, it clearly has more to it than I originally thought. Sure, putting the flare skill on it changed it to holy, I can accept that, but its name now? What decides that? I undo flare and watch as the barrel turns into an ordinary Metal Barrel again. How sad. I grab Foundation and Empire again and light it up in flare.
Holy Book
Judas Maude, I think I just created another Bible. I am going to get burned alive at the stake for this one. Man, first sued and then burned? This skill is clearly troublesome. I¡¯m glad it doesn¡¯t have a name though, like awesome book, or something. That would be embarrassing, but it leaves me to wonder about the criteria for naming things. Lastly, I pick up one of the knives from the skeletons and I coat it in flare as well.
Holy Skeleton Dagger
Well, that seems contradictory, an oxymoron if I ever saw one. What makes the dagger a skeleton dagger? (Also, apparently it''s a dagger, not a knife) Is it a skeleton dagger just because it came from the skeleton? Or is there more to it? I certainly would have thought something called a skeleton dagger would have been made of bone. That just seems proper. I turn off the flare and now it¡¯s just a regular skeleton dagger, no longer holy. Since it is a skeleton dagger maybe the dagger is cursed? That would make sense considering the amount of times I hurt myself with it today. But I believe that would just be blaming my clumsiness on something else instead of just me and that would not be wise. Besides, I would have assumed that all the light skills I used on it would have gotten rid of any curse. I grab the other dagger as well to make sure and the results are the same. I am the proud owner of two skeleton daggers, occasionally, holy ones. I am not sure what to make of that. Also, I unlocked new stuff at level five, does that mean at certain levels I will continue to unlock features of the system? That would be nice, maybe all the mysteries of the universe would be laid out before me in one harmonic, unified message. Considering my day. it would probably just say, ¡°Screw you!¡± I feel like I have more questions than answers now, but perhaps that will always be the case. I put my dagger upon my dresser and climb into my bed. Let me say I am really happy it came over with me. Short of a flamethrower, a tank, or a boatload of canned goods, I think my bed would be next in line on the list of items I would have taken with me to this place. If I am going to be an a strange, unfamiliar, and dangerous world, then having my own bed with me is priceless. Before I had gone to bed I had dragged my dresser over to barricade the door. Sure, it blocked a quick escape, but at least any attempts to break into here, windows or otherwise, would surely wake me in time to react. I check my phone, I have 15% battery life left, regardless of me not using it at all today. Useless thing. It¡¯s apparently 8:35 right now; I set the alarm for three hours to make sure I don¡¯t get suffocated tonight. I lay back in bed, ready to sleep. ¡­ ¡­ ¡­ Wow, its so quiet. I usually sleep with a box fan going at night to serve as white noise. In fact it¡¯s still there, in the corner, still plugged into the outlet on the wall. There is no electricity, obviously. But still, there is not a sound to be heard. My house is right next to the freeway too, which is why I had a box fan in the first place. Still, even the sound of cars and trucks zooming down the highway had turned into comfortable white noise after a year there. Now there is just, nothing. No crickets, no frogs, no wind, no airplanes. No noise pollution at all. Just lonely silence. ¡­ I had been experiencing this all day and I have been able to ignore it, but now I can¡¯t get away from it. It¡¯s unnerving. I roll over to try to get comfortable. It''s hot and muggy here, so I don¡¯t use any of my sheets or blankets. Its Saturday night at 8:40. I will be the earliest to bed of my family at this point. My twin and his wife are out on a vacation right now, perhaps enjoying a night out at a nice eatery. I¡¯m not sure where they went, maybe hiking out west. They did that last time, although they have a four month old now so probably not. I¡¯m sure they told me, I just hadn¡¯t bothered to put it to memory. My oldest brother and his wife are either out kayaking on the river they live on or working the night shift in the restaurant they manage together. They often get called in for support when employees are sick, need it off, or when it¡¯s just super busy. Since its a saturday night during the summer in their tourist town, it¡¯s probably super busy. Even I help out there in the kitchen in the summer. They couldn''t call me in today even if they wanted too, though¡­ The sister who lives with me is up north with Mom and Dad, an hour drive away. They might be watching a movie now, perhaps one of the Harry Potter¡¯s that my youngest sister had gotten into lately. If I hadn¡¯t been assigned to dog sit Pesos for my twin this weekend, I would probably be up with them too. Then, lastly, is my second oldest brother and his wife. I really don¡¯t know what they would be doing. Perhaps out with some friends? Or since my sister-in-law is five months pregnant, maybe they are taking it easy, spending the night in the house with their five year old daughter. I know their A/C unit had gone kaput earlier this week and they had been living in hell until it got fixed, a necessity for somebody with MS, so it would make sense they stayed in to enjoy their cool air. If not for this madness, I would be at my own home now, in the living room, perhaps reading or watching netflix. I wouldn¡¯t have been alone, Pesos would be there too, relaxing on the floor next to me. Here I am, instead, wondering if I am going to survive the night and Pesos is dead; I killed her. I¡¯m going to have to face her again tomorrow when she respawns, everyday until her vengeance is achieved. I look up at the timer. 843:65 Even considering how awful today was, I bet tomorrow is going to be worse. I had better get as much rest as I can. Before I lost consciousness, I cast identify on myself.
Gregory Tyler Human Inner Light: (level 5)
Gee, thanks. Chapter 10 ~ Rude Awakening That night I ended up getting woken up unnaturally three times. The first was the one I had planned, three hours into the sleep at 11:32 my phone¡¯s alarm went off. I must have been sleeping pretty hard because when I heard the sound I woke up super confused and disoriented, wondering why the light jingle I woke up to every morning was coming from my right on the mattress rather than to the left on top of the lazy boy right next to my bed. I also was wondering why I had set the alarm for the god forsaken time of 11:32. I was really thirsty though and I was quickly returned to reality after I stumbled to the door and saw my dresser blockading it. Oh yeah, I was in this place still. I was very disappointed to find out it wasn¡¯t a bad dream. Fortunately, everything seemed to be going as planned, and I scanned the room while illuminating it with my light blue heal skill. I wasn¡¯t infected yet and a brief look through identify showed me that while my walls and ceiling were infected, most of the things inside my room were still relatively clean. My only disappointment was after I had quenched my thirst, cleansing the water container and filtering its contents into my plastic tub again, when I discovered that my wynot rations were not holding up nearly as well as I thought they would. They were by no means spoiled but it seemed that the infection liked to focused on these. I already saw signs of decomposition and I hurriedly cleansed them again. Looks like it will be difficult to keep food unless I cleanse it every few hours, that¡¯s going to be a real pain. I went about my room and cleansed it again, haphazardly this time. I just wanted to reinforce my protection here before I went back to sleep. I used up all my water too, I would have to get more in the morning before I left. The second time I woke up was much more alarming. It was that notification sound again and I was jerked awake to this screen staring at me in the face.
Warning! You have been attacked by instance soul curse! Countdown until death
Blast, this seems to be a recurring phenomenon too. I looked up to my top left and saw another timer there, counting down from about five minutes. Jeeze, this thing is pretty unforgiving. This curse business is no joke. I bet it''s like the avada kedavra curse, it just kills, no messy causes, just instant plain death. Not nice. Fortunately, I have a cure and I cleanse myself easily, watching the timer disappear along with 20 of my mp. That¡¯s a costly one. Looking at the other timer for Pesos, (my phone was dead now, only had a day and a half of juice in it), I calculated that it was about two in the morning. I suspect that this will be a daily thing for me too, but I am actually kind of glad for it. It will wake me up in the middle of the night every night, allowing me a time to reinforce my cleansing in my room between sleep. Perfect. The last time I awoke was much more unpleasant and the most alarming out of the three. There was a hot burning sensation across my throat that startled me awake and a strange dampness was starting to spread across my chest. Also, I suddenly couldn¡¯t breathe either. Quickly putting my hands up to my throat I felt my warm blood gushing out of me through a large cut there, accompanied by a feeling of drowning as my lungs also filled up with the hot fluid. Unfreakingbelievable, it looks like I just got my throat sliced while I was sleeping. Let me tell you, it doesn¡¯t actually hurt that much. The feeling of drowning is much more distressing than the pain from the cut on my neck. I can hear my strangled gurgled coming from my mouth as I attempted to breath. Its pitch black here; I cannot see a thing, nor hear anything else beside my own wet gurgles. I was scared but not totally panicked until I used the heal skill on myself, closing up my neck wound and bringing a slight luminescence to the room. In the dim light, I easily saw the smiling skulls of two skeletons staring down at me on each side of my bed. The one on the right had its knife up and it was dripping with blood. My blood. I was fortunate they didn¡¯t just immediately start stabbing me repeatedly, I guess they thought they had given me a mortal wound and were enjoying my death throes. Bad judgement call on their part. That said, I freaked out, and instead of taking advantage of their carelessness I screamed and curled up towards the head of my bed, pulling my covers around me as if they offered me a modicum of protection. Then I proceeded to cough up a large amount of blood from my lungs onto the bed spread. If the skeletons were surprised by my liveliness they show it in only a brief hesitation of non action before they start stabbing me through my protective cotton blanket. The pain was awful, just how you would imagine daggers piercing you in the sides, gut, and arms would feel. Fortunately, my instinctive curling protected my chest, along with my rib cage, so a fatal stab to my heart was avoided. But I was amazed at how many stabs a human could take without losing function of the body. I eventually came to my senses, after a lot more screaming, and did not find out how many stabs a human could take before becoming immobile. I steeled myself and grabbed ahold of the arms of the skeleton on my right as he stabbed me in the stomach and I dragged myself toward him, half pulling him toward me. Fortunately, skeletons are rather light and have much less strength than me in a crazed state, so I fell out of my bed and on top of him, even as he continued to stab me as quickly as possible, intending to eviscerate me. When I landed on top of him, I drew back my right hand and coated it with flare. The other skeleton had lost its position to attack me when I had gotten off the bed, but he was moving around it hastily as if to save his friend from imminent doom. He was too late of course as the bright light from the skill filled the room in heavenly illumination before I brought the holy flame smashing down upon the skeleton¡¯s skull. It blew up spectacularly and, I must say, quite satisfyingly. Before I could recover myself though, the second skelton was on me, stabbing down at me with a vengeance. I was at a disadvantage being on the floor and was feeling very weak but the daggers my bony friends used were rather short. I used the same tactic again, grabbing at the arm as it came down at me, ignoring the wounds I was getting. This seems to be a winning strategy I can abuse considering my skill set.This one reacted much better than the first skelton, trying to draw back out of my reach, but it was to no avail. I started healing myself too, illuminating my body in blue flame and I pulled the offending skelton down into a bear hug, even as it resisted my advances. I was able to pull its upper torso down at me, but I couldn''t bring him all the way down. We struggled against each other, our heads were only inches apart. I stared back into its dark empty eyes for several seconds as it too stared into mine, as if his soulless sockets could end me with a look. I then used my fourth skill, the flare head butt. While not an official skill, this attacked has now saved me twice. In spectacular fashion again the skull exploded upon contact, sending bone splinters into my face and neck. It immediately crumpled to the floor, disassembling like the previous three skeletons. Once the clattering of the bones fall ended, the only sound left was my heavy breathing. Oh man. I still had two daggers still in my stomach. I closed my eyes, not bearing to look, and pulled each out as quickly as possible. White hot pain shot through me each time and loud sharp gasps escaped my throat. Somehow, taking these out seemed to hurt more than when they went in. I focused on healing my body and stole a glance up to my status to check my mp. I was at 15, apparently using over 30 in a matter of seconds. Had there been a third skeleton, I am not sure I would have had the mp to survive. Still, I had enough for healing the major wounds I had, keeping a close eye on on my remaining mp as it drifted down to ten, to six. I stopped using it at three. I hadn¡¯t completely healed myself yet, but i wasn¡¯t going to bleed out or have my guts spill out onto the floor. I closed my eyes and sat upright, leaning back against the front of my lazy boy, an ugly brown chair my mother detested. I didn''t think it was so ugly, but I generally defer to non-colorblind people in these situations. Funny story on how I got that chair too, my freshman year at university had me in a shared dorm on campus of course. This chair was originally my roommate''s, he had brought it from his parents house who apparently found its worn dark brown cloth ugly enough to lose at a university campus. My roommate used it to play his video games, far too many video games. At the end of his first semester he stopped going to classes completely, either not able to manage his time by himself, or getting lost in a freshman psyche, but halfway through the second semester his parents came in brought him home, ending his university career. That¡¯s twenty-four thousand dollars of his parents money down the drain. All I had to remember him by was this brown chair they left behind. I feel a little bit guilty about the whole scenario to this day, wondering if I should have held him more accountable and encouraged him to take his classes seriously. Nonetheless, what is done is done and I am now a proud owner of an ugly brown lazyboy, thank you very much. It is very comfortable. Dang, my whole body hurts. Like I had been bowled over by my brother''s forty pound muscle dog, which has happened before. Everything is sore, especially my arms which took the most damage but were the least attended to by heal. But considering what had happened to me, I am lucky to be alive.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. That said, how did those bastards get into my room? I have no idea and I don''t have the mp to spare yet for a look around the pitch black room. I can¡¯t imagine how they got in without me waking up. Plus, I didn¡¯t think they would have the strength to break my windows, much less drag my dresser away from the door. Unless there is a gaping hole in my room that I somehow missed, I just don¡¯t see it. As I wait for my mp to regenerate I glance up at the Pesos timer. It stood there at 364:43. I think that means it''s about¡­ 4:30ish? Also, I only have a few more hours until Pesos returns, another thing I am looking forward to. ¡­ Man, this place sucks. I''m going to have to put ¡°being ambushed by a pair of dagger weilding skeletons¡± on my list of horrible experiences. But maybe it will turn into good story material for future conversation? I have, tragically, very few exciting stories to tell others in my life. While others may have lots of cool and awesome experiences that they can share with others at appropriate occasions, like campfires or parties, I really only have one. But it is a very good one that ends with me being at the wrong end of a police handgun. Very exciting stuff, I almost had my head blown off by an innocent misunderstanding. (It wasn¡¯t actually that close) But I guess trying to jump a couple of police officers in the middle of the night is a bad idea. Too be fair, we didn¡¯t think they were police officers at the time, we thought they were a pair of friends pranking us. I guess the lesson learned is ¡°look before you leap¡±. But, once I make it out of here, I think successfully fighting off a pair of knife wielding skeleton assassins at night will give me another story to follow up with at parties. Oh joy, I can hear their raucous laughter already. That said, I am not sure when an opportunity to share a near death experience like this will come, I¡¯ve never been good with timing these kind of things and I don¡¯t want to needlessly freak people out. Maybe we all would need to be drunk for the story to work well, I don¡¯t know. I have never been drunk before. My mp had reached a reasonable level again and I am done healing myself, finishing off with a good cleanse as well. I stand up slowly, making sure my healing didn¡¯t screw up or something, putting my guts in backwards or some other horrible possibility. Thankfully, that didn¡¯t appear to be the case and I stood up and stretched, feeling fresh and rejuvenated. Man, this healing is good stuff, if I didn¡¯t know better I would say its like drugs. Not that I ever had drugs before. This is why I don¡¯t have any good stories. In each of my hands or the two daggers I had pulled from my body. They are still wet and dripping with my blood. In fact, Ithis whole place is just covered in my blood. Does heal replace the lost blood. I think so at least, because I feel fine, but maybe that is just the lightheaded feeling of an anemic. I hold up the dagger in my right hand and say, ¡°identify¡±.
Crusted Skeleton Dagger
I am not surprised, I cleanse it, watching my blood and then the rust and crustiness of it turn to dust and fade away. I am surprised at how much this thing was able to cut me despite how horrible its condition was. I Identify it again.
Skeleton Dagger
That¡¯s about right. I cleanse the other dagger and move to add it to my growing collection of daggers. I cast heal to create some light and move forward. My feet knock into a pile of bones, scattering the mess like I had knocked down a jenga tower. The noise startles me. Oh yeah, I have too nice piles of skeleton bones in my room now. How did they get in again? I brush the bones aside for now and extent my hand up to illuminate the room as much as possible. Neither of the two windows appear to be broken, that¡¯s good I guess. I turn to the door and see the dresser is still there. That¡¯s good too. Then I look behind it and see the door is wide open. It¡¯s not like there was a lock on it before. ¡­ Hm, my door opens outward, so I guess putting a dresser in front of my door really doesn¡¯t barricades it much. I step closer and peer around the dresser. I get a nice view of my new front lawn, nothing is moving out there so I don¡¯t have to worry about a bunch of zombies. Looking closer at my dresser, it really doesn¡¯t cover the entirety of my door despite my efforts. Those skeletons were pretty skinny too, considering they don¡¯t have any flesh to worry about. I look at the small openings around the dresser with a considering eye. Yeah, a cat could definitely squeeze through, and I bet those skeletons are just as slippery. Looks like I underestimated those bastards, again. How dumb is that, that carelessness would have quite easily killed me if the skeletons were a little bit smarter about what they are doing. Fortunately, I have two dressers in my room so I should easily be able to completely block up the door. I reach out and close the door again, for all the good it did. As I move the second dresser over, ignoring the piles of bones on my flor and the blood everywhere, I think about my defeated foes. They are surely more intelligent than I gave them credit for. Sure, the door wasn¡¯t locked, but they still needed to turn and pull the handle, something I didn¡¯t think they would be able to do. Next, they snuck in, apparently knowing to keep quiet as I slept, despite they themselves not needing sleep (probably). Then they sliced my throat before I could put up any resistance and they seemed to think that would have been enough to kill me. Clearly, these people have had experience with humans before to know a weak point such as that. Or, as human skeletons, they retain some memories of human lives to know that. I am sure there are other possibilities too. They did seem single minded in their intent to kill me though, despite my obvious advantage. If I was the second skeleton, I would have beat a hasty retreat once I saw my partner being taken out so easily, especially after what should have been a sure kill. They obviously did not have a full grasp on my abilities. This leads me to wonder, are these the same skeletons I killed earlier, respawned? Possibly, but I think not. Unlike Pesos who dissipated when she was KO¡¯ed by the door, the skeletons left behind impressive piles of bones for me to deal with. Also, I had showed clear signs of healing during my first encounter with them yesterday, you would have thought they would have remembered something like that. Still, they came in a pair again, so maybe new ones just generate eventually? ¡­ Hey, if that is true, what does that say for the law of conservation of mass? Are these things being generated out of nothing, like codes in a video game? Wouldn¡¯t that mean that, eventually, my yard and this whole area will just be covered with more and more bones and zombies until everything was completely filled up? That doesn¡¯t seem reasonable. Now I know why the corpses always disappear in the games. I shake my head, maybe when the sun comes up and I can see outside I will find that all the zombie corpses and bones from yesterday have disappeared too. That would be ideal, them I would not have to worry about the boies as much and save myself a lot of trouble. Looking down at the first pile of bones, I say, ¡°identify.¡±
Skeleton Soldier (remains)
Huh, a soldier, eh? I guess that means there is some kind of organized military force I am dealing with. It''s not too surprising, but it looks like there is a will behind this attack, not just some angry monsters trying to kill me. Its gotta be related to whoever sent Pesos after me. That scum. I would have liked to have seen the level of these skeletons. I cast identify on the other pile of bones but I get the same response. I should have identified them before I killed them, but no use crying over spilled milk. Something tells me I will have plenty of chances to identify them in the future. There is blood all over my bed now, not to mention my shirt. Or what''s left of it, this shirt is now going to have to be considered rags now. I cast cleanse on it and am pleased to see all the blood crumple into grey dust and blow away from my shirt and my body. Nice, its not like there are showers here anyway. I cast cleanse on my bed again, aware that all the blood is a huge magnet for the mushrooms anyway. The blood here too turns to a fine grey dust and I shake the sheets and blankets to clear it away. Well, not too far away, it¡¯s all over the rest of my room now. I am going to have to do some serious dusting soon, everything I own is now covered in a fine grey film. But, hey, it''s a clean grey film. I sit back down on my bed with a sigh, but I don¡¯t think I will be able to get back to sleep tonight. It''s only a few more hours until sunrise anyway, unless the days and nights here are out of whack. I illuminate my hand again with heal, giving me some light. After a moment, I use identify on my hand.
Hand (Heal)
I wonder¡­ I coat my hand in flare, giving out a much more impressive light and cast identify again.
Holy Hand
Ha, that¡¯s what I expected. That¡¯s funny, especially considering I probably gave the second skeleton a Holy Head Butt. Imagine if I had yelled out my technique¡¯s name as I did it, screaming out, ¡°Holy head Butt!¡± as I slammed my head against his. That would be funny. Or maybe I should go for cool and say something like, ¡°Rest in peace!¡± as I slay my undead foes. That might be too cliche though, maye I should be more clever and say, "Rest in peices!" when I defeath the skeletons. Eh, I think I¡¯ll just keep to what I have been doing an what has been working for me, screaming like a little girl at everything that happens. I¡¯m not sure I could come up with the computing power to add in extra words during these fights anyway, it''s always some do or die thing I look up at the countdown again 333:26. Looks like I am going to have to face Pesos basically at sunrise. How am I going to deal with her this time? If she was smarter, she wouldn¡¯t come charging blindly at me again. Heck, if she got really smart, she wouldn¡¯t even attack me openly, but just wait for an opportunity to come out while skulking me in the shadows. Then come bursting out at the right moment to rip my throat out, probably during a fight with a bunch of zombies or something. I could probably heal through a ripped out throat anyway¡­ I wish I had a shield to work with, but nothing I have in this room is of the right shape or size. If I had a shield, I could just shield bash everything with Holy Shield. Wouldn''t that be nice, Pesos is too short for me to use Thor¡¯s hammer against her effectively. I suppose I could just tackler her while coated in flare. A Holy Tackle. That would probably finish her in one go and I might get a chance to hug the furball again. Still, a shield would really minimize the risk to me. I sigh again, and look around gloomily. I am getting real tired of this place, it seems I can¡¯t do anything without my life being saved by the slimmest of margins. My only hope is in defeating my enemy tomorrow and hoping his end also means the end of this game. There¡¯s not even a guarantee of that, for all I know I could be stuck in this wasteland forever. I don''t think I could handle that. Tom Hanks in Castaway at least had the hope of getting rescued sometime, if I lose my hope of a return I might have to end this whole thing myself. Permanently. The loneliness alone would be enough to drive me too it. Even if they could talk, I don¡¯t think the murderous skeletons could count as company. I push the dark thoughts from my mind, there is no use speculating. I¡¯ve got a plan and I am sticking to it. Come first light, I am packing up and marching out to face my real enemy. Come hell or high water or zombies I need to figure out what is happening here and end this damned game. ¡­ In the meantime, I¡¯m going to try to eat another wynot. I can tell they are already starting to go bad. Chapter 11 ~ Pesos Returns The countdown timer for Pesos ended before the sun came up. It was a long night, like winter nights where over half of the time there is no sun. Despite that though, Pesos did not appear and come charging at my door. When the timer finally ended, it just faded away. Considering it only took a few minutes for Pesos to appear last time, it means she¡¯s out there waiting for me. Just my luck. To pass the time until the sun actually rose, I had eaten as many wynots as I could stomach, which turned out to be two. Since I had used up all my remaining water earlier that night, it was difficult to even get the dry stale meat down my throat. But I was hungry and I knew I would need the energy for what I planned today. Those little jaw bones still freaked me out though. Even after the sun started rising, Pesos did not appear. I looked out my window around my landscape and also moved the two dressers aside and peered through the door. Only the bodies of the zombies and skeletons where out there. Blast, and I was hoping they would disappear once morning came. Stink, Pesos is not going to make this easy for me. I¡¯m going to have to go down to the river to get more water for the day and I don¡¯t fancy having to watch out for the flying wynots or for Pesos to come jumping at me. If she bowled me into the dirty sludge stream and then I was swarmed by a bunch of wynots in there, I don¡¯t think I could survive. Of course, there are zombies and skeletons out there too, probably just chomping at the bit to kill me. I took out the two new skeletons earlier, but I think they will be respawning soon. I dawdle a bit in my room, hoping Pesos would appear and make my life easier. I clear away the bones of the two skeletons and apply another coat of cleanse around my room, but still she doesn¡¯t come. ... Maybe there is no respawning of the zombies and skeletons, maybe it is just pesos? If there were just a finite amount of these fools it would make my life a lot easier, I could just slowly thin their numbers out. That would be nice, but I doubt it. I finish cleaning up my room, dusting and putting away stuff. I even organize my laundry, using cleanse on the dirty clothes. Perhaps this cleanse skill means I¡¯ll never have to use a washing machine again? I grin at the thought. Finally, I can¡¯t delay any longer and with a scowl, I set off towards the river, my plastic container tucked under my left arm and Thor¡¯s hammer secure in my right hand. On the short walk there, I start using identify on everything I can see.
Instance Setting (decayed tree)
Instance Setting (decayed bush)
Instance Setting (boulder)
Instance Setting (decayed foliage)
Instance Defense: infectious spores
Wow. I¡¯ve been seeing ¡°instance¡± stuff in the notifications for a while now, from the infections and curses of course, but this really confirms it. I am in something called an instance. I think this is good news for me because I think it means I am in some sort of artificial environment. Hopefully that means there is an exit for it as well. I reach the river and cast identify on it.
Instance Setting (sludge stream)
I look around warily as I approach the bank. One of the few nice things about how silent this place is that it should be easy to hear any approaching foes. The only noise I hear now is from this bubbling brook, a gross schlucking noise that disguises any movement from within. Those wynot bastards. I scan the area for a few more seconds but there is nothing to note. I glare at the water before I kneel down and put my plastic container into the mucus liquid. It slowly fills up and I am as tense as a garage door spring. Sure enough, after only a few seconds, a wynot comes blasting out of the water. Seriously, how many of these things are there in here? When I fish in a lake I am lucky to get a single catch in an evening, but here I can practically get one every try. It¡¯s just not fair. At least, though, this time I am prepared to meet it. The wynot attacked me from head on. I immediately pull up my quarter filled container I was holding in the stream, coat it with flare, and, with a yell, bash the damned thing out of the air before it can give me the kiss of death. I dumped sludge water all over myself in the process, getting a nice infection notice, but it is worth it to not have my face dissolved off. I have learned from my earlier experiences with the wynots that they do not have the same explosive reaction to the flare skill as the undead skeletons and zombies do. I suppose it¡¯s because the wynots wouldn¡¯t be considered an undead creature, just a foul one. Still, the attack is very effective and the creature flies over to the left of me after the hit, its body black, burnt, and partially missing. I warily put my container down and grab Thor¡¯s hammer. I see the creature is still wriggling a little and I want to identify it before it expires.
Wynot: level 7
Whaaaat? How is this possible? Why is this thing called a wynot? This is crazy, I haven''t even said that word out loud yet either. It is impossible for me to accidentally be guessing the real names of these things, right? Maybe the system is just trying to make things easier on me by naming things as I understand them? That makes more sense, it''s obvious the system can read my mind, it did convert units to imperial standard for me and probably translated whatever original language this place had into English. But if this is some sort of virtual reality, isn¡¯t mind reading a bit too much? I guess all our thoughts really are are just electric pulses, so maybe not? I don¡¯t know. Also, this thing is level seven? That is still two levels above my current one, I suppose that means I am gaining good experience points (if that is a thing here) from this. Also, if these wynots are all around level seven, than that explains why I leveled up rather quickly yesterday. I stare at the dying beast for a few more seconds and then it passes away. The identification screen changes with it.
Wynot (remains)
I shake my head and dismiss it, suddenly aware I had spent the last thirty seconds pretty distracted. Pesos could have gotten the jump on me, or worse, another wynot. I cleanse myself, getting rid of the sludge on me, and reach out to grab the dead wynot. No use in wasting this perfectly good (edible) meal, even if it is half gone. I cleanse it thoroughly but then ??realize I don¡¯t have a good spot to put it. My plastic container I am using I am going to fill up with the nasty water again. I have a backpack in a closet in my room, left over from my university days. I¡¯ll have to bring that with me next time. I put the tiny wynot remains in my lap as I go in for another try for water. I finish my job without another interruption and I make my way back to my room as quickly as I can without spilling the green sludge. I cast cleanse on it along the way, watching it as it turns from bright green to dull gray. The sludge loses half of its mass in the process, but what I am left with is a half tub of dirty gray water. I make it back and filter it out as best as I can, filling up my water jug most of the way. I immediately take a large gulp of the freshwater. Oh yeah, I have said this before, but this is the good stuff. I¡¯ll never complain about the quality of water again, be it well water, city water, spring water, bottled water, I¡¯ll take whatever I can get my hands on. Life and death situations can really put these kind of controversies into perspective. For that matter too, I¡¯ll never turn my nose up to any food again, even lasagna. I don¡¯t know what it is about that stuff, but I never liked it, despite Garfield¡¯s obsession with it. Now I¡¯ll take an entire tray of it, even if it is cold and old. I find my backpack in the back of my closet and I start packing for my trip. I take a few extra sets of clothes because you never know what is going to happen. I also pack my jug of water, two wrapped daggers, and my remaining wynots. I take the other two daggers and stick them as best as I can into the side pockets of the backpack for (theoretically) easy retrieval if need be. I also find a baseball cap and wear it. It''s not sunny out there by any means, but protecting my half a bald head just seems smart. I look around the room again, looking for something that could be potentially used as a shield, but there really is nothing. There is a large blackjack case that is kinda big enough to serve, but there is no good way to hold it without losing functionality of my hands. Its disappointing, but I¡¯ll have to make do. Finally, I step outside, feeling unprepared for this excursion but there is nothing else I can think of. While my backpack with the water in it is a little heavy, I will still be more than able to outpace the skeletons and zombies I have seen so far. As for Pesos, she always had the speed on me so I wouldn¡¯t have been able to compete in that department anyway. I don''t think it will be too much of a problem. I look around the landscape one last time before I leave. I hadn¡¯t been out of sight of my room before, the thought is a little daunting. What if I cannot find my way back? My room sticks out like a sore thumb here, but I have no idea how big this place even is. I¡¯ll have to be extra careful as I navigate. Maybe I should leave some sort of markers behind? Looking around, each direction seems to go upwards a little, so its like I am in some sort of valley or bowl. It makes sense as the stream runs through here, so I guess I could just look for the large depression in the land.Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. I take a deep breath and prepare to move out.
Warning! You have been infected by airborne instance bacteria! Negative effects will stack
¡­ That joke is getting kind of old. Also, I really should have learned to stop doing that by now. I head out, keeping a look out for zombies or skeletons or for Pesos. There is nothing around though and I am a little concerned about the lack of enemies. I wish Pesos would just attack and get it over with already, I am worried I¡¯m going to get ambushed by her and all the other zombies at just the wrong moment. I reach the crest of the small hill that I first saw the phantom Pesos appear on. The way there was pretty easy, most obstacles were brushed away easily as they were half dead. The forest never got too dense to move around in and in any particularly iffy spot I just used cleanse a little to remove the blockage. Pesos had been able to run a straight gallop at me from the top of this hill, which should have been impossible considering the landscape, but I guess being a phantom has its advantages. She couldn¡¯t pass through my flare covered door, but she didn¡¯t have a problem with all this dead forest. From the top of the small hill I see that there isn''t anything particularly good around. Looking around I do confirm that my house is in some sort of bowl. Still, I appear to be currently on top of a highpoint in the area as everything else appears to be a little below me. Just a little though, even with the half dead forest and incline, I cannot see very far. There is a nice stout tree trunk next to me, sticking up vertically with its top half broken away about ten feet up. I tighten up my back pack and stow thor¡¯s hammer away, preparing to climb it to get a better view. The large mushrooms on the tree, while infecting me upon touch, provide some nice foot and hand holds for me to use. When I reach the top, about ten feet off the ground, I am above everything. The most curious thing I see is the edge of the map. And when I say edge, I mean edge. From up here I can tell that this place is rather small, only about a square mile. The edge is an edge, like in a game I played as a kid called Smuggler¡¯s Run. The edge up the map was just an invisible wall with only the sky beyond it, above and below you. In the game you were a car and if you tried to pass the edge of the map you would just ram into a force field stopping you. Then you would be creamed by all the police cars chasing you. I guess this means I don¡¯t have to worry about getting lost here. I stare at the edge with only a little disbelief. If I crossed toward it, would there be an invisible wall too, or would I just fall into oblivion? The thought scares me but I am more than just a little curious. If i wasn¡¯t struggling to stay alive here, I would have to go check it out. Secondly, peppering the landscape all around me, I see what looks like old ruins. Classic game like stone ruins. I suppose if there was treasure to be found in this place, they would be located there. Was I supposed to explore those ruins, find all five keys, or crystal balls, or whatever to unlock the ending? I hope not, that sounds super bothersome. I bet those things would just be loaded with traps, poisons, and enemies just waiting to kill me. I¡¯m going to avoid those until it becomes clear I have to do a dungeon dive. This sucks. I try to cast identify on the closest one but nothing happens. I guess I am too far away. The third interesting thing is a real building. If I had to describe it, I would say it was a small temple. It was a triangle A shape with glossy doors and sides. It was stone too, similar to the ruins as far as I can see, but it was also tiny. No bigger than my own room to be honest. ¡­ Looks like I found my destination. It¡¯s not too far away, but it will probably take me a good hour to reach it, considering the forest and how carefully I will need to travel. The last thing I see are several slow moving zombies just scattered across the scene. Its difficult to spot them among all the dead plants and trees, the only reason I could was because they moved. But they appear to be wandering around aimlessly like I would expect a zombie would. I can only spot four from up here, but there are probably a lot more I cannot see. The nearest one is only a hundred feet or so from me, moving toward me, but slightly to the left. As I watch it, its face suddenly turns to me and he immediately changes his travel plans, making a beeline at me. Great, let¡¯s hope he doesn¡¯t bring any of his friends with him. I don¡¯t want the zombie to trap me in the tree so I climb down quickly to meet him on a level playing field. I climb down halfway and leap the rest of the way, landing with my knees bent. I move to pull Thor¡¯s hammer from my pack. Something heavy strikes me from behind, ramming into my backpack like a linebacker sacking a quarterback. With a yelp I go down, falling face first into the mucky, slimy earth. The taste is just terrible, it definitely doesn¡¯t taste like dirt. I have never tasted something as awful as it, but I imagine it''s what the contents of a five week old tupperware container full of old stew would taste like. I can feel my body convulse from the horrid stimulation. Also, I find myself unable to breath again as my face is full of the gunk and my breath was knocked out of me. I don¡¯t know what happened, but I am blaming Pesos. I can feel her weight on my back still, pushing me down into the ground. Before I can react, I feel sharp pains at the back of my neck. I think she is biting me there as hard and as fast as possible. It is here that I learned that my spine is a pretty tough bone. It hurts like hell, but she is not able to break it with her jaw. The same cannot be said about the soft sides of my neck, I can feel her ripping those apart. Oh God, this hurts. Please, save me from this nightmare. I push myself off the ground as fast as possible. Before this moment, I wouldn''t have thought I would be able to do a push up with a forty pound dog on me, but not only do I do it, I am able to do it with such a force that she is thrown back off of me and I get up as quickly as I can. ¡­ Oh my god. I am horrified to discover that the muscles in my neck have been so destroyed that I cannot lift my head up properly. I am stuck facing the ground, my head limp and dangly, my spine doing its job in keeping it in place. Worse yet, my esophagus feels blocked, I cannot take any air in. This experience now takes the top of my worst experiences in my life, replacing the skeleton attack from last night. It seems the longer I am here the worse things get. I can see Pesos out of the corner of my eye. She recovered rather quickly from getting thrown, but now she is eyeing me warily from a few feet away, prowling around in a circle. She looks like she is expecting me to collapse and die now, her vengeance achieved, and is not willing to get close lest I bring about a superhuman strike in my last moments. That¡¯s fine with me, I had started healing already but it will take a few more moments to finish. I feel the icy cold sensation around my neck as it fills in the gaping holes with new flesh. This is hurting like nothing I have ever felt and the only thing keeping me from screaming is the fact that I physically can''t. Soon enough, the healing is done and I can lift up my head and take in a needed lungful of air. I breath it in like a swimmer escaping the watery clutches of a deep dive.
Warning! You have been infected by airborne instance bacteria! Negative effects will stack
God damn it. I take advantage of Pesos¡¯s confusion and steady myself, checking my mp. I¡¯m at thirty four, good enough. I also give her a quick identify.
Pesos Vengeance Spirit: Level 2
Of course her name is there. Only level two? Pesos is light years more dangerous than that level seven wynot. I cleanse myself and give Pesos as big of a hateful scowl as I can muster. She seemed to have figured out that something is wrong though and she is now growling aggressively at me, snapping her jaw and jumping closer. I can¡¯t help myself, perhaps my pain and rage is getting the better of me, but I glare and shout at her, ¡°Pesos, stop that! Stop that right now!¡± My words seemed to give her pause as she stops growling and retreats slightly, giving me that guilty look she gives me when she knows she did something wrong. Like when she broke into her treat bag only a couple days ago. It only lasts for a moment though and then she jumps back, circling me and acting more aggressive than ever before. ¡­. Oh man. I feel my anger drain away, replaced with sadness, I can feel my eyes water. For a second there, I think the real Pesos showed through. God damn it, I am going to kill whoever did this to her. I try again, telling her to back down and stop it, but it appears to only aggravate her further. The poor dog. I am being very careful now. I am taking slow easy steps, not letting her get behind me again. I am also carefully keeping an eye out for any zombie party crashers. Pesos is too fast for me to catch her, I couldn''t even do that when she was alive, much less now in her phantom form. My only hope is to get her to attack me again. Thor¡¯s hammer is still sitting in my pack, but I think it might be better to face her with my holy hands. I start talking to her again. ¡°Come on Pesos, what are you doing? Stop this now, do you want a treat?¡± That phrase always got her going before. ¡°Do you want a nice treat? Come on, who¡¯s a good girl? Who¡¯s a good dog?¡± It appears to be working, she can¡¯t seem to take it. Reminders of her former life, I guess. With a loud howl she lunges at me, straight for my neck again. I am prepared though and I use flare on my hands and grab her before she can get me. In fairness to her, if not for this flare skill, she would have torn my throat out again with this attack, even if I had managed to grab her. But as it was, her howl quickly turned into a pained yelp and her phantom body burst apart and broke down upon my touch. After only a second, her body completely disintegrated and its black wisps slowly dissipated. After a couple seconds, a new notification appears.
Vengeance Spirit defeated! Countdown until respawn
I look up at the new timer in the top left corner of my vision. 1,356:37 ¡­ How depressing. I am not happy my victory. If nothing else, this fight proved that Pesos is going to be a major pain going forward. At least I found a way to deal with her, while her relationship with me is probably what gives her her strength, it is also her weakness. Hopefully I can end this today and not have to do this again. I sigh and look around. That other zombie should be here soon. Speak of the devil, I can hear his crashing through the foliage close by. It appears to be alone too, good. I pull out Thor¡¯s hammer and rub my neck. I can still imagine the feeling from before, I do not want to go through that again. Everybody here seems to be after my throat too, and they also seem to have a pretty good success rate for it. I should seriously consider some sort of neck guard. The zombie comes into the view, shrugging off a dead bush that had been stuck to him. Neither of his eyes are on his face, so I guess that means that they are using some other means of tracking me. Its definitely not hearing either, its got to be magical somehow. I cast identify on it as it comes into view.
Zombie: Level 5
This one is a higher level than Pesos, too. I waste no time and get behind it, striking its head with Thor¡¯s hammer and it crumples noiselessly to the ground. With another sigh I check my mp and see that it is low. After that fight, I am pretty tired and thirsty. I guess I¡¯ll take a short break for now. My enemy is going to have to wait just a little longer. But I promise, I¡¯m going to find you today. Chapter 12 ~ The Temple Getting your neck ripped out is an experience that lets you consider your own mortality as a human. Many young people, including me, are under the mistaken impression that they are invincible. Sure, we know that we will eventually grow old and die one day, but I am still youngish, whole, and healthy and my body hasn''t changed much in over a decade. If I don¡¯t think about it, I feel like it will just remain that way forever. Most people who have had their neck ripped open have had only a minute or two to consider their thoughts before the inevitable blood loss ends their sad lives. I was fortunate enough to escape that tragic end by having a magic to make me whole again, perhaps giving me a unique perspective on the experience. Let me tell you, it wasn¡¯t nice. As I trod forward, I can¡¯t help but reach up and rub my neck, reliving the attack. Its frightening and I can¡¯t help but tremble. I don¡¯t want to go through that kind of pain again. Even worse than the pain, I can vividly recall the feeling of the blood spilling and the intense hostility Pesos had for me. I shudder as I think about it. At the end of this, I might end up with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, I am certainly a candidate for it. My thoughts spin around my own mortality, my lack of dying from the mortal wounds. Did I have a godly healing ability? Was the limit to it really only my mp amount? What does that mean for me in the long run? I read that the cell¡¯s in our body are constantly dividing and dying, our aged bodies becoming more and more fragile as our cells become less and less good at that. Would my heal prevent the degradation of my DNA? Everybody dreams of eternal life, but the truth is that the idea is beyond me. That said, I wasn¡¯t about to quit on my heal, I am at a place far from eternal life at the moment. I almost died three times today already, much less having an immortal life. And on that thought line I am brought back to the nature of death in this place. If I did end up dying would there be a game ending for me, a respawn or even a return home? Or would I just die and that would be the end of it? I admit, the temptation of an end to this place and a return to earth through a quick death is attractive. Especially due to the flies that are now buzzing around me.
Putrid Fly: level 1
Up until this point, one of the very few, and by very few, I mean very few, good things about this place is the lack of flies. Or bugs of any kind. The trash can in my garage is a huge magnet for them, how much more should this place be? But for every awful thing this instance was, it didn¡¯t have any insects. I hadn''t really noticed until now and, as they say, you only miss things once they are gone. ¡­ After I had rested up and got my mp up to max I had restarted my journey to the small temple. My quiet and relaxing journey was rudely interrupted by a sudden buzzing all around, like somebody had just turned on a box fan. If I had describe it, it¡¯s like somebody suddenly un-muted the sounds of the forest. All the insects were introduced all at once in a stunning display of continuous development. That¡¯s right, looking around now I notice changes from yesterday. Little things, more and different types of dead bushes, different colors, and more details on the landscape. Its expanded content, like a developer is currently adding features. Considering most features have been actively trying to kill me, I take this as a bad sign. This place is growing. Now, everywhere I look, every step I take, every breath I breathe, I am introduced to the wonders of a thriving insectoid ecosystem. It is surely a glorious thing to see nature in action. This new part of the ecosystem is trying to eat me alive, literally. Sure, the stupid fly is the size of a dime and is only at level one, but there are dozens of them just around me and their bites hurt and I have experience with biting flies. Back on earth my parents live on a lake with a raft we often swim on. Sometimes though, the black flies or deer flies will come at us while were are out there enjoying the lake. It would cause the lot of us to scatter and scream as if the flies would pick us up and carry us away to their nest to be devoured by their young. Hiding under the water, we feared the bite of the black fly greater than anything on the lake. These putrid flies here are much worse, every bite from them leaves an immediate infected sore that, if uncleansed, would probably kill me in hours. And the actual bite feels like a bee sting. At this point, I am hating them worse than the wynots. At least I can avoid the wynots if I want to. When I first noticed the flies appearing I did the instinctual run and flailing of arms, batting as many away as I can. Needless to say, it wasn¡¯t very effective. I¡¯ve managed to kill two or three with some flare swatting, but I know that trying to face them directly them is a lost battle. Things like this are all the more reason to quit this game as soon as possible. I end up taking my extra shirts I packed (I knew I would need them) and wrapping them around me as best as I can, reducing my exposure as much as possible, especially my head and neck. It¡¯s hot, uncomfortable and looks ridiculous, but it less miserable than getting bit. That¡¯s what I am stuck with now, going for the lesser of two miseries. Which brings me back to where I am now, squatting down in the foliage just outside the clearing surrounding the temple, swatting the flies and wishing for a swift end to my torment. I am pissed and I am ready to end this thing. The additional wandering zombie I splattered on the way here in no way vented my pent up frustrations and in fact made my mood worse as the surprise attack ended with zombie guts all over me. God damn it. The temple is an unimpressive structure, its like a kid took two gray stone slabs and leaned them against each other like a set of cards. There are no decorations or anything special about it. No carvings, no nada. I appear to be at the back of the building too but I imagine the front is just as plain, maybe just an unassuming door. It really doesn¡¯t look like a final boss area, if you know what I mean. For as much trouble this place is giving me, they could at least make the main attraction more impressive. The building is in a decent sized clearing that I am on the edge of, there are no trees inside, or bushes, and anything. Whoever was in charge of landscaping this place did a terrible job, it¡¯s just brown flat ground for a good hundred foot radius around this thing. It¡¯s a very boring and small structure. I try to cast identify on it, but the small temple is too far away. I give a wary glance around the clearing, acknowledging Admiral Ackbar¡¯s wisdom, but I don¡¯t see anything. ¡­ What now? Just walk up and bust down the door like a police raid? I¡¯m pretty tempted. ¡­ I glance around the clearing and then look up at the sky again, wondering what the hell I am supposed to do. I¡¯ve never done anything like this before. The only experience I have is from Scooby Doo or video games. That¡¯s right, if Scooby Doo taught me anything it¡¯s that I need to follow clues all the way to the end. This clue led me here, I¡¯m going to explore the blasted temple like my life depends on it! And, I actually do have tons of experience raiding temples. Mostly as Master Chief gunning down hordes of grunts and elites, but its all I got. My gaming experience is telling me to go in guns blazing. ¡­ My paintball experience is telling me to do an awkward shuffle in a crouched style up to the edge of the temple for cover. I think I¡¯ll stick to that one for now. ¡­ After a few minutes of psyching myself by reminding myself how angry I am I step out of my little hiding spot at the edge of the clearing and move as quietly and as quickly as possible to the backside of the building, getting into its small shadow to hide again. I feel silly because there isn¡¯t anybody around, but I suppose it''s better to not take chances. Still, nothing else moves and no alarms are blaring so I think I am safe. I put a hand up to the cool stone and find out that it is exactly what I thought it was, a rough granite texture. I look up toward the top at the point ten feet above me, but there is nothing of note there. I cast identify.
Instance Setting: ???
Now its yellow, eh? That must mean it is important. Even if it won¡¯t tell me what this blasted thing is I can read between the lines. Sure, It won¡¯t give me a name, but it has told me that this thing is special. I must be on to something here. With a slight grin, I imagine that I¡¯ll be home soon. I think I could make it to church on time, too, at this rate. Still wary, I step around the temple slowly. If there is a door it should be over there on the other side. I cross the last corner, peeking my head over and see a set of steps, four stone slabs made out of the same dark gray granite as the rest of the temple. Those four steps lead to a small door made of a dark wood. The wood isn¡¯t full of fungi either, which isn¡¯t fair. I can¡¯t go three hours without having to cleanse my whole room; it must be an instance setting. I then see a figure standing on the top of the steps. Its another skeleton. As my eyes meet we kind of stare at each other for a moment, ten feet away from each other. I¡¯m no undead expert but this skeleton is not like the other ones. He¡¯s got a small helmet cap on his head that looks like it is made of leather. He also has a nice leather chest and back piece on as well, nothing on his legs or arms though. His most prominent difference is a large shield that reaches up to his collarbone as well as a nice pointy spear that looks like it could stab me with ease. After a surprised moment I cast an identify on the new foe.
?Skeleton Guardian: level 10
A new type of skeleton, at level ten no less. If I didn''t know better, I would think he was the boss. After spotting me and a surprised moment on both our ends, he immediately levels his spear at me and does his best to skewer the half of my head that was poking around the corner. Panicked, I back off too quickly and fall on my rear. I see the spear grate across the stone at the spot where my head had been just a moment ago. Goodness me, despite my miraculous healing abilities, I don¡¯t think I could survive my brain getting destroyed. Heal is not an automatic thing as far as I can tell. My heart pounding wildly, I crawl backwards away from said corner until I can get a grip on myself and hurriedly stand up again. I throw a quick look around to make sure nobody is sneaking up on me and I am relieved to see that I am not surrounded. Before I can run for it though, I see the guardian pass the corner as well, charging at me. Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. Still wavering on whether an escape is not the best option, I stare wide eyed at the hostile creature and keep away from his spear. Fortunately, like the other skeletons, it looks like I am still faster and I can keep out of his range easily despite his mean swing. This guy seems to really hate me though, I can see it in his eye sockets. I shiver slightly as I look into those fathomless depths. ¡­ You know what? Good, I hate him too. ¡­ This leads me to my next question, can I take him? Rather than dodging this guy I am more just staying out of his reach. Despite being able to run circles around this guy, his jabs at me have been rather quick. I¡¯m not sure I could dodge his strikes. So my first answer is no, this guy has got a spear and a shield and looks like he means business. He¡¯s also eyeing me like a bouncer eyeing an underage kid near his door. Am I going to cause trouble? He is clearly a step up from the other skeletons I had faced earlier and is also the highest level enemy I have seen at double my level, if that is at all a determination on strength. On the other hand I am really tired of this place and I feel like the answers to my problems are through this guy and on to the other side of that temple door. This guardian appears to be alone right now and Pesos won''t be coming back anytime soon. This is probably my best opportunity to take this guy out. I bet that whoever is inside the building won¡¯t be expecting this early of an attack anyway. Also, I want that shield. It is not a Captain America shield but it¡¯s a nice shield that would help me a lot in my effort to stop getting stabbed, bitten, melted, and, otherwise, mauled by everything here. I keep back a little and circled around the persistent guardian. I think I¡¯ve got a plan that will hopefully involve me not getting stabbed by that weapon. Ultimately, I decide to try my luck here. I play a little closer to the guardian, flirting within the edge of its range like an annoying fly (like the ones still buzzing around me). I time out the skeleton¡¯s thrusts and, after a large one, I rush in before he can pull it back and I grab it, sliding the pointy edge away from me. I flare up my right hand in preparation of punching this skeleton¡¯s face in. My masterful plan fails, however, when I realize that this skeletons is much stronger than I had thought. And faster. ¡­ This bastard, I think he was holding out on me. As soon as I moved in, he bashed me with his stupid shield, stopping my movement completely and throwing me off balance. I fall back onto the ground, my back slamming against the hard water jug in my backpack and knocking the air out of my lungs. Before I can figure out what is going on, I feel a sharp weight on my chest, causing me to give out an involuntary, ¡°Gah!¡±. I look up and see that the skeleton is pressing his shield onto me, its edge is pushing down on me like an anvil, pinning me in place and cutting my shirt and chest with its sharp edges. I gasp for air and see the black empty eye sockets of the guardian staring down at me as he leans heavily on his shield. In his right hand, I see the spear being raised, intending to kill me. Oh my God, this really hurts. Also, I think I bit off more than I can chew. This guy apparently knows what he is doing. I really don¡¯t want to get stabbed again, even if I can heal it. In desperation, I grab hold of his shield and gasp out, ¡°Flare!¡±, covering the entirety of it in the holy aura. There is a bright flash of light and I feel the weight on my chest ease. The skeleton tumbles backwards as if he got hit by an explosion and I see his left arm missing and his shoulder smoldering. The shield on me falls over and I push it off in relief. I get up as fast as possible, wincing at the bruising on my chest. The skeleton is getting up just as quickly though, albeit less one arm. If he had any expressions, I think there would be a violent rage on his face. His left shoulder is black and smoking. Excellent, my plan was a great success. This went just as I had expected. ¡­ Now to follow it up with an even better plan. ... I spot the shield lying next to me and I quickly pick it up, brushing away the bone fragments that were there from the leftover arm of the guardian. As I grasp it, I immediately nearly drop it. Holy smokes, this thing is heavy. How is this bony thing able to hold it with one arm? I have to hold it with two hands to keep it steady. Doesn¡¯t this mean that the skeleton is super strong? I¡¯m starting to think that rather than levels, classes are much more important. A level two Pesos was much more deadly than even the knife skeletons and this guardian is much stronger than its level had suggested to me. Or maybe it is just specialization, different types being strong in each of their unique settings? Looking back, each creature here did give me a fatal wound at some point. My thoughts are interrupted by the skeleton quickly coming at me again, doing an admirable job of ignoring his wounds and performing his duty. He is much faster now that he is no longer carrying around his heavy shield. His jabs are quick and powerful and it¡¯s all I can do to yelp and hold the stupid shield in front of me to block. He¡¯s only got one arm, but I feel like I am getting hit with a battering ram over and over again. Oh man, I think picking this shield up was a mistake. By taking it from him not only did I reduce my speed but I increased his. My speed was the only thing I had on these people, too. But now if I let go of this shield I¡¯ll be skewered right away. ¡­ Blast, this was a bad plan. I am thinking at this point a strategic withdraw is my best option, this guardian will soon wear me out. Unfortunately, that would mean letting go of the shield, currently the only thing keeping me alive. I start to panic a little as I feel my arms growing tired and my hands slippery with sweat. I¡¯ve got to make a move here, quickly. Another solid hit from the guardian later and my right hand slips. The shield falls from my grasp and I tumble backwards again, my body flailing like an infant. I once again land on my back. ... Oh God. ... The next thing that happens is I get the sharp end of the spear buried into my gut. I scream out again, God this is excruciating. Somebody else, please, take this job away from me, I¡¯m not the type to have to deal with this. I can barely replace my bathroom¡¯s ceiling fan by myself. The skeleton pulls pack and stabs me again and again in quick succession. The ferocity of the attacks are stunning, I can''t keep track of what¡¯s going on. I can hear my voice screaming, as if in third person. After a dozen moments, I hear a loud cracking sound from right in front of me and the spear stops, buried in my chest. I can¡¯t breathe, both my ribs and lungs have been turned into mush. I am pretty sure my heart has been destroyed too, so surely no blood is pumping. The guardian did a real number on me, my torso is barely recognizable. I can taste pools of blood in my mouth. I bring my eyes up to take a look at the guardian. The guardian has stopped moving and is now holding his left shoulder while staring at me with pure hate in his sockets. I hear a little more crackling and I see the guardian sway slightly, as if drunken. ¡­ Suddenly I understand and I give the guardian a bloody grin. My flare skill had been slowly deteriorating his shoulder this whole time and it looks like it finally got to some vital parts. I can see the skeleton¡¯s collarbone is broken and cracked, the guardian is now physically holding himself together. Behind the skeleton, I see the door to the temple open slightly. A small figure steps out halfway as if wondering what the neighborhood racket was. Dirty black robes hang over its scrawny frame and a weirdly proportioned hairless skull sticks out of it cloths like a submarine periscope. I see him turn and look over at us with indifferent purple eyes. My instincts are telling me that this is my enemy. Everything about him screams dark mage. I feel my rage burn inside of me. Apart from the burning sensation of exposed nerves, of course. I start to pull the spear out of my gut as cleanly as possible, keeping my evil eye pointed at my foe. Oh man, does it hurt, but I can¡¯t yell due to my diaphragm not working. I mouth the word ¡°heal¡± and feel the effect slowly start to take shape. The process is icy cold and painful. There apparently isn¡¯t any anesthetic to my healing process, but my rage is blocking most of my sensations now. It looks like it will take several moments before I will be able to move again. Seeing my wounds healing, the skeleton steps back slightly as if afraid. The dark villain at the temple door is eyeing me like an interesting specimen. Neither interrupt me as I stare daggers at the mage. I squirm at the uncomfortable movement of repairing flesh inside me, but soon I can breathe again and I take a big gulp of air like a saving breath when drowning.
Warning! You have been infected by airborne instance bacteria! Negative effects will stack
¡­ I¡¯m ignoring that for now. ¡­ As the rest of me finishes up healing I slowly stand up like an immortal god, flexing my fists.The guardian skeleton definitely looks unnerved. Who¡¯s the undead now, bitches? I finish healing and glare at the defenseless skeleton. You¡¯re goin¡¯ down bro. I move forward to Hulk Smash the guardian but he flees quickly back to his master. I chase after, pulling out Thor¡¯s Hammer, ready to destroy whoever wants it I see the mage raising up his hand and start muttering something. That¡¯s not a good sign. Before I can catch up, I feel the ground tremble slightly and I pause, wondering what the hell the mage did. The mage and I glare at each other for a moment before the answer comes to me. Like a scene straight out of a horror movie, dozens of zombies start emerging from the flat dirt ground. ¡­ Holy stink wad. Sensing that my time is running out, I try to pick up my pace to reach the steps of the temple before the zombies can interfere. For all the vast powers this mage seems to have, I think I got him in close combat, a swift strike with Thor¡¯s Holy Hammer surely will do the trick. I zig zag and hop around the emerging zombie obstacle course, but before I can make it safely to the stone dias I get tripped up by a groping arm of a half buried zombie. I kick the interfering rotting flesh away as fast as possible and I get up again, but soon I am surrounded. I slow up and check out my mp. Its down to 22, not enough to go all out. Healing my injury consumed a lot. I look back up to the mage who is standing still and staring at me with a smug expression. His guardian is standing next to him, pretending he is still a badass. I think we both know his days are numbered. I glance around again at the now approaching hoard. Looks like I am going to have to do this the hard way. I put away Thor¡¯s Hammer quickly and take out a skeleton knife. I don¡¯t have enough mp for a slugfest, I¡¯m going to need to conserve my mana in order to get this done. I should have experimented with this idea earlier, but I think if I can stab precisely enough, small amounts of flare will be enough to disable or destroy these weak zombies. Coating Thor¡¯s hammer in flare is clearly overkill with these guys. Stepping up to the nearest zombie, I idly recall that it was just yesterday I was shivering in fear inside my bedroom. The adaptability of humans is truly amazing. I flare the bare minimum I can on my dagger, grab the shoulder of the nearest zombie trying to get a bite out of me, and stab him from atop his head. I am immediately grateful it doesn¡¯t explode and am pleased as punch to see him fall limp into my arms immediately after, like a swooning damsel. He almost took my embedded knife down with him. I pull out my dagger and drop him carelessly, eyeing my next target who is coming at me quickly. The next several minutes sees me meleeing the zombies as I try my best to move towards the dias. Still there are dozens of zombies and my progress is slow and, despite my efforts, I am running out of mp. I try stabbing them without any use of flare to save mana but the results are disappointing. The hot knife through butter feeling disappears and the wound doesn¡¯t disable the zombies immediately like a flare does. Even a straight stab through a brain is not effective without the flare. Damn zombies. My mana is now down to 9, my micro flare¡¯s have only been using one or two each strike, but at my current rate of progress, I¡¯m not certain I can make it. Despite my efforts, there are still far too many zombies between me and my goal. I am getting desperate. In the midst of my battle, I see the Mage raise his hands again, this time pointed directly at me. Alarmed, I try to move away, but the zombies are pressing around me, blocking my mobility. I have already been bitten many times. I hear him speak in a foreign language for a second before a black pencil sized spear appears before his hand. A moment later, it shoots out at me. The only thing I can do is shield my face with my right arm. The black projectile hits my arm and I immediately lose all feeling in it. It falls limply to my side, dropping my skeleton knife and hanging uselessly there. A zombie gets it and starts biting it like a teething baby, but I feel nothing. Oh man, this is not good. I stare in horror at my limp arm and try to push back the zombies encroaching in on me. Escape is my only option now. If the mage has any more of those spells, even that task might become impossible. Using up a large chunk of my mana with a flare skill, I turn away from the temple and try to blast the zombies in the way of my exit with a swing of my left arm. Its marginally successful and I force my way out, pushing and shoving the zombies around as I am basically out of mana. Fortunately the mage doesn¡¯t use another spell on me, perhaps he is out of mana too. I manage to break out of the encirclement, knocking down a couple zombies, despite my unusable right arm. I am exhausted now, wounded, stumbling, and gasping for breath, but I need to flee to safety as fast as possible. I received a level up notification during my last desperate push, but it does nothing to elevate my mood. Despite the damage I dealt to my enemy, I clearly lost miserably in that round. Rushing through the foliage and trying to stay out of sight I realize that things are only going to get more difficult from here on out. Chapter 13 ~ Escape When I fled the temple grounds I had run in the opposite direction of my beloved room. Bleeding, bruised, crippled, desperate, and low on mp, I had run in the direction that was the only viable option at the time and even after I had retreated into the foliage, I had continued fleeing in the wrong direction, doing my utmost to get away from the mage and its minions in a blind panic. I don¡¯t blame myself, but it is really screwing up my sense of direction. I need a place to hide and lick my wounds. I haven''t cleansed myself in a while and I can feel the signs of the infection spreading inside of me, a stiffness in my muscles and joints. Surely, all the bites from the zombies had accelerated the sickness. This creeping paralysis is terrifying, like you are slowly being eaten alive. As soon as I had felt I had enough mp, I cleansed myself, while still on the move. The warming sensation spread throughout my body, consuming almost all my mana again, but I was able to sigh in relief. Although I had many painful wounds on me, they were minor compared to the threat of death by infection. I crashed through the rotten foliage, knowing that even if I wanted to be quiet I didn¡¯t have the skills to do so. I am sure from my breathing alone elves could shoot me in the dark. The zombies here have historically showed a stunning targeting ability, able to zero in from anywhere once they had gotten a visual on me. I am not sure how the mechanics of that works, but I am expecting the rest of the mindless zombies that had seen me at the temple to come following me. The guardian probably won¡¯t follow, though, if only due to its own injuries. That bastard, I am sure I¡¯ll see him again. The mage doesn¡¯t seem like the type to leave his spot but I¡¯ll keep that possibility alive in my head. I am going to have to find somewhere to prepare to meet and massacre the remaining zombies. Hopefully, the two skeleton soldiers won¡¯t make an appearance. ¡­ Oh man, my arm, I can¡¯t feel anything in it. Oh God, my cleanse hadn¡¯t fixed it. I¡¯ll try a concentrated dose later when I can, but it is freaking me out. I have to hold it down with my left arm as I run to keep it from flopping around. Unbidden, my thoughts go towards amputation. I try not to think about it, if I have to chop it off like a trapped rock climber I might be able to grow it back. I sure hope it doesn¡¯t come to that. I am noticing changes in the landscape as I run. It easy to notice them when you trip and fall face first into a lively pricker bush that then tries to strangle you. That is certainly a new feature to look out for. In addition, there were more random wilderness items lying about, boulders, ditches, fallen trees, dense brushes, and stagnant pools. Clearly, this place has gotten an upgrade, and besides the new flies, multiples of other wilderness sounds could be heard. While before the place before had a silence like the grave, now it was filled with the sounds of a night in a horror movie, disconcerting russells, erie bird calls, and low growls filled the place. Surely, new creatures were ready and willing to kill me. During my journey, I noticed several black, skeltal birds, following me, hopping from one dead branch to another. For a dead forest, it certainly seems to be alive with horrors. Oh my God, I hope there are not dog sized spiders in here. Ugly crows I can handle, but large hairy arachnids with glittering eyes will cause me to lose whatever sanity I have left. Feeling like I cannot run anymore, I stop by a particularly large fallen dead tree and collapse into a crouch. My breaths are coming in large grasping painful pulls, my lungs screaming at me from the exertion its been forced to endure. I can feel my exercise induced asthma kicking in too, the toxic spores and bacteria in the air certainly don''t help the irritation in my lungs and esophagus. Between my gasping breaths I struggle to spit out the gathering phlegm and mucus. I have a splitting headache and I can feel my teeth ache. Despite a twin who runs 14 miles a week for fun, I hate running. Each large breath I take in infects me again, I have to give myself a light cleanse every other minute now. God, I hate this place. My mp is struggling to keep up with my expenditures and I know the zombies will be here soon. I am not ready to take them on, plus those crow things are eyeing me like dinner. I look up and cast identify on them.
Carrion Bird: Level 1
Gotcha, I think that means they are scavenger types. At that low a level, they can only mean to be a harassing threat, nothing too serious, I hope. I''ll keep an eye on them, but they are out of range for me to actually do anything. When I feel like I am not dying anymore, I get ready to move again. Despite the heavy and cumbersome weight of my backpack, I am happy to have it with me. I take out my jug and gulp down the water, thankfully still fresh. I am hungry too, but I will have to wait to sait that. I take out Thor¡¯s hammer and move out, this time at a sustainable hiking pace so my lungs can catch a break and my arm doesn¡¯t flop around too much. I got lucky during my mad dash, but considering there are new threats in this vile forest, I probably should be on the lookout for more trouble. The carrion birds follow me closely, they caw out over and over again as if expecting me to keel over at any moment. It¡¯s very irritating and they are giving away my position. Those dirty dogs, if I get a chance, I''m going to take them out. I wonder if the bird meat would taste any better wynot. Considering they are mostly skin and bones, I guess not. I''ve got a bunch of notifications in my top left view now, all but two of them being various forms of infection notices. Standard, airborne, and even bloodborne types that are probably even more deadly than the others assail me. Considering my still fresh and bleeding wounds I am not surprised. I still don''t have enough to comfortably heal my wounds, they sting and burn as I walk. I had bandaged up the bad ones as best as I could. One if the notifications was the level up screen, which was nice to see. I was now level 6. At least I gained that from this mess. The last notification was a surprise.
Congratulations! You have unlocked a class sub-skill early. Edge
Hot dog. I pull up my status with interest.
Inner Light: (level 6) A unique light attribute class able to learn every light attribute skill and uses mana directly for every skill. Class locks all other potential attributes and skill types. Skill usage limited only to quantity of Mana available
Mana: 10/62.208 Regen: 3.07556352 per minute
Skills: Cleanse Clear body of foreign influences
Heal Enhances natural healing
Flare Coat external surfaces with light energy to give a light attribute to object
Edge:Sub-Skill of Flare Coat the edge of a blade with light energy to give a specialized offensive light attribute to object
Nice. I''m glad to see that I will not be limited to just the three starting skills. I had assumed after I had unlocked identify at level 5 that I would periodically learn other skills or attributes. This confirms that and since I learned the skill early it means that I''m not limited to the handouts of the system. Edge looks useful too, legitimizing my efforts. It also gives me some ideas on other potential skills to try out. Some sort of flare barrier would be nice, let me tell you. That stupid shield I had grabbed from the guardian skeleton was worse than useless. As I was walking, contemplating my new status, a small brown scaly creature suddenly rushed out of the underbrush and clamped its jaws onto my right leg. I leapt up and howled in pain and surprise before instinctively striking it down at it with Thors Hammer. Its small head caves in and splats dark red blood over me. Gross. I stand still for a second, taking in the sight of the reptilian corpse still clamped to my right leg, like a comical dog on a mailman. The teeth hurt. What the hell is this? Isn''t this just harassment? What was this little creature hoping to accomplish with its suicidal run at me other than pissing me off? All my other frustrations come boiling up as well, my loss at the temple, the pains on my body, the uncertainty of my arm, and of course, the absurdity of this situation where only two days ago my biggest worry was what to have for dinner. Take out or make something at home? One fast and easy, one healthy and cost effective. Staring down at the suicidal lizard I loose a nice scream of anger. Dang, I can feel my throat burn from the exertion. I hadn¡¯t been this angry since my sister accidentally knocked down my sand castle I had worked on for a couple hours. Once I am done venting, I glance around quickly to make sure that there is not a whole tribe of these lizard things coming down on me, but no, it appears to have been alone. Behind me, the cawing of the carrion birds sound like laughter. Please, just leave me alone in my misery, I don''t need a peanut gallery. I reach down and try to pry off the little devil, awkwardly with only one working arm. Thankfully, although its teeth are sharp they are small and do not dig deep into my calf after breaking through my jeans. I guess these pants do offer a modicum of protection. The lizard creature looks like a tiny alligator with a short snout and stumpy tail. It also had practically no flesh, just a mesh of bones and tendons like the birds. It would look like a cute companion in a Tim Burton movie if not for my blood oozing inside its clamped maw. I end up having to break its jaws in order to pry it off my leg. I killed the creature before I could identify it, but it''s got to be low leveled. As this place grows I am seeing new types of creatures, I wonder if I''ll start seeing high level ones too. I need to stay alert. I used up the blasted mp I had been saving with my flare strike, so I still can''t heal myself yet. I had panicked and just hit it with all I had. I don''t think I could use edge on Thor''s Hammer anyway, considering the skills description. I really need to just sit down and restore my mana before I do anything else. My new bloody leg now is adding to my misery; the flies around me are especially drawn by open wounds. My destination is just over the next hill ride though. I ignore the cawing birds and the pain as best as possible and I limp onwards. As soon as I get ten feet away from the remains of the lizard creature the three birds dive down in a shriek. I turn back in alarm only to see the birds gobbling down the bones of the dead like rock candy. Weird. Was there any nutritional value in that thing? It looked to me to be an undead type. ... Whatever, maybe this will distract the birds enough for me to get away. Leaving the birds behind, I drag myself over the small hollow and see what I have been aiming for, one of the old ruins. The building is mostly nonexistent, just some stone walls and an outline of a foundation. Either this is a super old stone structure or something made to look super old. Most likely the latter. I reach a short four foot wall and slump down next to it, taking it easy on my leg. My dead right arm adds to my difficulty. I am very worried about my arm, it feels like it does when I fall asleep on it awkwardly at night. There is zero feeling in it and it feels like a foreign attachment on my body. I can¡¯t bring myself to look at it.This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. It takes about a half an hour to regenerate my mp to max, but I have no idea what other monsters will come at me. I estimate it will take a good thirty more minutes for the zombies to reach me. I feel exposed and vulnerable, like I am walking naked through a prickly forest. Besides all the scratches, ticks would surely come for my easy and delectable blood. I start healing my wounds as the mp comes in. The icy uncomfortable sensations flow across my body, causing me to twitch and flex uncontrollably. I keep a sharp eye on my mp too, making sure I don¡¯t drop below five. Thankfully, none of my wounds, except for my arm which I can sense to be a black hole for mana, are relatively minor. While super stressful, as soon as 23 mp are used up I feel whole and hale again, a sweet relief from the pain and ice. Since my arm is still numb, I feel completely fine and a comfortable sense of drowsiness washes over me. I guess I really have been working hard. Now is not the time to rest though, now that I am out of immediate danger, I need to prepare for a wave of zombie mobs. The little ruin should do nicely to help obfuscate their approach. If I can find a stable section of this low wall, I should be able to smite them from on high too. Experiencing the sensation of wanting to stay in a warm comfortable bed, I brace myself and get up anyway. I¡¯ve got some zombies to kill. Once I get up, I hear a flopping sound from beside me, like a dropped book bag. I look down and see my arm lying there, black and rotting. .... I start to whimper. Oh God, this is too horrible. Please, take me from this place, your tribulations for me are more than I can bear. I turn to the side and vomit out the half digested wynots. I hear the cawing of the carrion birds and look up to see three sets of greedy eyes. I think they want to have my arm. I look back at it again and see that it is still slowly rotting, deteriorating before my eyes. They can have it I guess, I hope they choke and die from it. Or that its poison kills them from the inside. I turn to look at my now stump of a shoulder in alarm, but I am relieved to see that it had fallen off cleanly. I hadn¡¯t realized before, but I guess the arm has been dead a while. My heal skill was what cut the dead limb away from me ultimately, a fresh patch of pink skin covered the wound. Unable to help myself, I waste some mana and start feeding healing mp to the limb. Would I be able to grow it back like a starfish? Again, I feel the black hole sensation of it, like I was just dumping the mana down a drain. I actually take that as a good sign, as it means it''s just a matter of quantity. I sigh in relief and step away from the dissolving arm, bone now appearing in it, bright and white. I am sure it would stink if all the other smells here weren¡¯t just as bad or worse. As I walk around the ruin, I can feel my smouldering rage start to replace the horror and fear inside of me. That mage, this is all his fault, and I don¡¯t think I am exaggerating. My precious right arm and a part of my sanity, this enemy has taken them away from me. If I were a crazy person I would be thinking now that blood, only rivers of blood can assuage my grief. For now, I think I would be content with just a swift exit from this place. As my escape seems to be through the death of the mage, all the better for it. While I may not be outclassed, I am clearly out leveled. Not to mention outskilled by that guardian, his way with that spear will be difficult to overcome. I think my only option is to get high leveled, and just fling my light attribute around like a barbarian ogre, steamrolling all of my opponents in a flood of flare. Brute force is really the only option I can think of, for everything the system is giving me, increased agility, strength, or weapon skills are not any of them. I¡¯m an office worker, what do you want from me? So my new plan is to level up and then assault the temple again, surviving the waves of attacks of the enemies on me in the meantime, not the least being Pesos. Blast, rising inflation is going to decrease the value of my current skills. I¡¯m going to have to try to get ahead of this place''s growth curve. I make my way up towards a nice section of the wall that looks sturdy, aggroing another lizard creature along the way. I see it coming and a swift kick with a shoe covered in flare, ends the threat before it can get me. Most of these creatures here are only a threat if they can get the drop on you, wynot included. As long as I am vigilent, I should be able to hold them off. I climb up on the stone platform and look out in a frown. On the other side of the ruin I can hear the carrion birds cawing and feasting, probably on my arm. I can feel nausea try to come back to me, but I fight it off. They aren¡¯t dying from the cursed arm either an soon I see one fly up and towards the lizard thing I had killed. The others soon follow and their cawing is grating my already frayed nerves. I want to take them out, but considering how hard it is to catch geese, much less these agile monsters, I weather the temptations. From the vantage point up here, I notice the changed landscape, and shake my head in despair. It¡¯s only been an hour I think since I had looked around from the tree before pesos attacked me, but already so much has changed. The area itself is bigger, I can no longer see the edge of it like before and I am noticing differences in terrain now, as if different regional types of sprouting. Off to what I believe is west, an actual forest has appeared. Black and dead, yes, but none of the trees are fallen down, they all stand up straight, tall, and leafless. I can see the bowl shaped depression from here to, where my house should be located. Once I finish up the zombies, assuming they show up in the next hour, I should be able to find my way home. Speaking of the devils, here they are coming now. Like a drunken party, I see the small parade of zombies making a beeline at me, not taking any effort to avoid obstacles in there way. That explains what took them so long to reach here, their single minded determination was admirable, even if it was a determination to kill me. I¡¯m not sure how much control the mage has over these things, or if he has any beyond just summoning them, but their spaced out groups will make this a relatively easy job. I count them up, and there appear to be only about thirteen of them. More are probably straggling behind. My mp is at 52, so I do not hesitate to start pounding them as they come, literally. My height makes them easy targets as they lack any awareness of defense. As long as I pace myself, I should be able to clear them about without too much trouble. As I smash their skulls in, doing my best to avoid getting splattered by their gore, the only problems I face is my lack of accuracy with my left arm and the piling of bodies at my platform. Seriously, I feel like an incompetent idiot as my swings hit shoulders instead of heads just as often as not. The blow still kills them for the most part, but the unbalanced swings had left me open for some bites and grabs several times during the exchange. Thankfully, I wasn¡¯t about to run out of mana at this rate. The carrion birds, I notice, are having a feast. Their gluttony amazes me as they seem able to scarf down metric pounds of zombie flesh without any problem. My irritation with them vanishes when I see that they are the cleanup crew. Does this mean all the zombies bodies around my house will get taken care of too? I sure hope so. If nothing else, I¡¯ll try to leads these three birds back to my place. I¡¯ll be able to stand their racket if they can take care of the body problem. The battle with the zombies was very unexciting and I was able to put all of them down without significant incident. A few stragglers had joined the party midway, but these things do not pose a challenge to me as long as I have some mana. The large pile of bodies, even partially eaten by the birds, makes me uneasy, but I suppose as summoned creatures, they are not really people, even zombified people. I try not to think about it. I wait at the ruins, making sure all aggroed zombies meet their end. As the zombies started thinning out, I stowed Thor¡¯s Hammer and took out a skeleton knife to try out the edge skill again. It worked just as I expected it would. What other skills can be unlocked, early or otherwise? The system says I am limited to light based skills, but how much does that actually limit me? My flare skill seems to be a pretty cover all skill, so far it has had many applications. If more sub-skills are available it it, it¡¯s surely specialized ones like edge. The last zombie falls to my blade and I sit down on the wall, exhausted and hungry. I really don¡¯t feel like more stale wynot meat, but isn¡¯t any other option. I chew on the rubbery meat, doing my best to choke down the calories with water. It is not an easy task. ¡­ Although I got my butt kicked and lost an arm, I am now able to see clearly a way out of this place. Probably. I haven¡¯t received a convenient revelation or gotten instructed by a fairy creature, but I am still assuming the temple is the key out of here, and I am sticking to that assumption. It the only hope I have. Help me, temple-kenobi, you are my only hope. It doesn''t look like I will make it back to Earth today though, unless I unlikely level up another five times. It probably means people are going to start questioning my disappearance tomorrow. Even if I do make it back eventually, it''s going to cause a hell-a-baloo. If I am lucky, they won¡¯t put me into an insane asylum. I can¡¯t imagine the worry my family will have. I wonder how long it will take for them to give up on me, assuming my room has disappeared completely. Will they wait weeks or months with a missing person¡¯s case even after seeing the ¡°destruction¡± of my missing room? I look up to the timer indicating the return of Pesos. At least if I return after they are all scared of my demise, the death of my brother''s dog will be the least of their concerns. That¡¯s a plus, if any exisits. When my mp reaches max, after taking out a couple more stragglers of zombies, I try my hand at healing my arm again. I invest 55 mp in it and cast heal. Immediately, my shoulder burns with an icy cold and I have to grit my teeth to keep from yelling out. The feeling lasts for several seconds, and I start shuddering, fighting off the urge to end the spell immediately. After it is over, I wipe the sweat off my brow and look down at my arm. Sure enough, a good solid inch of flesh and bone has been regrown. Though shaken at the unexpected pain of the treatment, I am overjoyed to know I can grow it back. Clearly, replacing flesh rather than just mending it is far more costly. But that¡¯s to be expected. I wait for my mp to max out again, fending off flies as much as possible. I hadn¡¯t spent so much time outside yet as I have now, and I am desiring the feeling of safety my room gives me. Although, it''s not that safe considering I got assassinated there last night, it''s still my room and it is far better than the noisy, ugly, and dead world outside. Also, it''s been awhile since I cleansed it and I am worried it might fall apart on me. If I do make it back, I ardently hope that my room will come back with me. If it gets destroyed, I can¡¯t imagine what I would say to my insurance company. Confident that the last of my zombie pursuers have been destroyed, I hop down from my perch after double checking the way home. This place is now more dangerous than ever before and the loss of my arm is making me super uncoordinated, so I take my time going home, inspecting any suspicious foliage, den, or tree. Several times along the way I got attacked by the strange lizard creatures, but I easily offended them off, only getting injured once. The flies are worse than the lizards, I¡¯ve gotten bit by those dozens of times already today, even after I killed double that. I was able to cast and identify once on the lizard thing before I killed it.
Agruimen: Level 1
Hmmmm¡­. Identify has failed me for the first time. I really can¡¯t get any good information at this level. I have never heard of an Agruimen before, its sounds like something made up. I put it to the side. I tried cleansing one of them and ended up with a piece of meat the size of a marble. Upon tasting it, I couldn¡¯t differentiate it from the wynot meat. While Arguimen meat might be easier to obtain and reduces the risk of getting my face melted off, the process of acquiring it isn¡¯t cost effective for the amount obtained. It doesn¡¯t look like I¡¯ll be able to replace my source of food. Eventually, I find the crooked stream again and follow its route down into the valley. I keep an eye out for Wynots jumping at me and hope that the terrain hasn¡¯t changed so much that the stream is no longer next to my house. That would really stink, because at this point, the stream is my lifeline, providing me both food and water. ¡­ Wow, considering its a toxic sludge creek filled with face eating squid monsters, that¡¯s really odd to think about. ¡­ As I get closer to my house, after I fended off two Wynot attacks and added them to my dwindling food collections (much harder to to with only one hand), I notice a dark smoke curling up in the air. AS I get closer, I can taste the black smog, it hangs around like fog as there is no wind to disperse it. Something is on fire. An ominous premonition hits me and I move forward with more haste, praying it is not what I think it is. A knot forms in my stomach as I fear the worst. My fear is made reality as I finally make it to my house. I fall to my knees at the sight. Oh my God, my room is aflame, a bright smokey blaze consumeing everything inside. Its gone, its all gone now, practically everything that connected me to my world besides what I am carrying. My home, my security, my comfort, my bastion of light, going up in smoke and ash. I feel sick in my heath and my vision is swimming as if in vertigo. The sense of loss is greater than anything I have ever experienced, topping the destruction of my arm only an hour ago now. At least my arm would grow back. At our moving company there was a story about a truck full of household goods catching fire and destroying the entirety of the customer¡¯s worldly possessions in the process. It was an event that left the family sorting through the partially salvaged goods, sobbing as if no amount of insurance money could ever placate their loss. I now understand those feelings. Surrounding my house like a lynch mob were zombies and skeletons, staring transfixed at the flames as if performing some arcane ritual. In one of the skeleton soldier¡¯s hand was a flaming torch. After their failed ambush last night, looks like they are resorting to different tactics. How great is that, they are imortal and learn from their mistakes? Behind them all, I see the skeleton guardian, overseeing the burning of my house like Saul persecuting the early church. His left arm is still missing, but the damage to his main body appears to have been repaired. He is holding steady to his spear at least and when the zombies in the clearing all turn to look at me with their radar detection abilities, he too follows their gaze. Our eyes meet and I swear I can feel his malice emanating from his empty sockets. As the mass of zombies moves out at me, he stays behind. I am crying now, still slumped to my knees. The loss of my home is hitting me hard, I can feel the tentacles of despair draining me, like a wynot sucking my blood. I don¡¯t move even as the new zombies close in on me. Judas Maude, how many zombies can the mage generate? The two skeleton soldiers move at me as well, coming up on either said in a blatant attempt to surround me and cut off my escape. Their white grins glint in the fire light, mocking smiles, exultant in my doom and despair. Before they can surround me, I finally get up and flee. I am not mentally ready to take on another tough fight, even with maxed out mp. All I want to do is find a nice dark corner to hide in and bawl my eyes out. I can hear the carrions birds around me, cawng out in their hollow laughter again. As I flee the scene of arson, I cast a look back at the guardian. What I see is him marching away, his task complete in burning down my habitat, not sparing a glance at his fleeing foe. Curse him, curse these skeletons, curse this place, and most improtantly, curse that mage! He¡¯ll pay for this, I swear to God. I''m going to burn down his temple too, if stone could burn. I wipe the tears clouding my vision furiously and keep running. Hands down, this is the worst day of my life, even more so than yesterday, and its only mid-afternoon. I fear now, the new evils that I will have to face tomorrow. Chapter 14 ~ Tough Stuff
Armored Skeleton: Level 16
This skeleton I am facing now is a pain. Literally. He¡¯s already severed the tendons on my left arm with his iron sword, making my arm useless until I can heal it. Thankfully, I¡¯ve managed to regrow my right arm these last few days, but that was a huge pain too, actually. This skeleton has also gotten some decent cuts along my sides and arms, my blood is flowing freely. Experience tells me I¡¯ve only got another minute or two before the loss of the red juice inside of me makes me weak and disoriented. Not to say I¡¯m not currently weak and disoriented already, I''ve got three arrows in my back, all of which have been poisoned and are slowly spreading a nasty hallucinogen through me. I¡¯ve got to cleanse that soon before I start turning into a crazy psycho. I¡¯ve never let the poison get too far yet but from just the early onset of the stuff the toxin does strange things to my brain. I¡¯ve already taken care of the two skeleton archers that turned me into this pin cushion. While the the long range projectiles have been entirely troublesome and unfair, the skeleton archer variety come with literally zero armor to guard them. I¡¯ve found that a well thrown stone is enough to incapacitate them, a stone that was covered in flare at least. While the flare skill ends as soon as it leaves my hand, I have found, through numerous tests, that the effects still linger for a minute, like decaying radiation. If the archers had any sort of covering over their torso I would be screwed, more screwed than I already am, but as it is now a solid throw to their chest destroys them. My only problem is my aim, which is why I have three arrows in me instead of just one. Let me tell you, my accuracy does not improve the more hallucinogenic I become. I¡¯d cleanse myself now, but I don¡¯t have the mp to spare at this point. You¡¯d think that reaching level 14 would grant me more mana than I would know what to do with, but inflation is a bitch. Each attack I do requires more and more of the sweet golden elixir of mp. I hoarde the stuff like an addict. This last week has been absolute hell. In fact, there is a part of me that really thinks that this place is hell. It''s not what I imagined hell would be, but I think they nailed eternal torment on the head. After losing my room to the fire, my already difficult life became much more so. Outside of the flying insects biting me, the agruimen biting my ankles every chance they get, carrion birds following my every move, and wynots trying to eat my face off, I am constantly being harassed by roving parties of zombies and skeletons on search and destroy missions. Ironically, this now larger place, larger every day, has allowed me room to run and hide, the various scattered ruins providing me minimum shelter as I kick out its dubious and unwilling inhabitants each night. Fortunately, only the zombies and skeletons seem do be under direct control of the enemy mage as those are the only creatures making a concentrated effort to eliminate me. All the other creatures I just seem to run into like encountering pokemon in the tall grass. Of course, Pesos is still a one hound army. She¡¯s been coming at me every day now, and she is getting smart, much too smart. My only saving grace with her is that she stubbornly works by herself, seemingly unwilling to coordinate with the zombies and skeletons. That''s fine by me, I think I would surely die if they worked together. Pesos has killed me every time in various and creative ways, she¡¯s ripped out my throat, front and back, crippled me in the sides and legs, almost knocked me off a small cliff, and even started breathing a corrosive fire like attack at me after she reached level five. She is super troublesome. Each day she comes back, she comes back a level higher than the day before and is apparently learning skills all so that she can kill me faster. My godly healing abilities have saved me every time and I¡¯ve been barely been able to exterminate Pesos, but every day its gets harder and takes longer. She can find me anywhere, I cannot hide from her. I have not been idle either though, I have been able to level up as well these last seven days. But, Judas Maude, I have to say, Pesos is getting stronger faster than me. Each new levelI get takes more and more effort but she gets granted a new level each day. I fear that soon, she will be able to wear me down and kill me. All she needs is for me to run out of mp. Or give me an insta-kill. Yeah, it''s been hell. Another issue I am facing is that the zombies and skeletons I have been squaring off everyday have been multiplying their numbers like bunnies. I am forced to actively engage them in an effort to cull their number, a tiresome and time consuming task. The zombie¡¯s and skeleton¡¯s levels have also been increasing slowly I noticed, not as steadily as Pesos does, but the average level of the zombies have gone up a couple of times. New types have appeared as well, bigger and stronger than the regular zombies. I can still one shot the big ones with Thor¡¯s Hammer, but its a trend I can¡¯t ignore. For the skeletons, new classes are appearing too, like the archer and armored types I am currently fighting. Despite my best efforts, everybody is getting stronger and I don¡¯t feel like I am gaining any ground. Unlike me, all my enemies seem to just be granted levels by existing, even if I kill them. My leveling has become harder and slower. It¡¯s just not fair. The skeletons are leading the zombies around. It makes sense, none of the zombies have any brains, even the new types. Which is funny because the skeletons don¡¯t have any brains either, but I guess they are using their ghostly intelligence. I can see it in their dark hollow eyes. The armored skeleton is even slower than the other types, but he more than makes up for it in his skill with his sword. Also, the metal armor he carries around makes it extremely difficult to kill him as the flare isn¡¯t nearly as effective against plain metal compared undead flesh and bone. A dagger with the edge skill used can still cut through his armor moderately well, but it lacks the explosive power that direct contact with the bleached white bones would have. Like I said, this guy is a huge pain. I¡¯ve already destroyed his following of zombies, big and small, as well as taken out his archers and regular skeleton soldiers, but this guy doesn¡¯t give up. They never give up when they find me, the skeletons and zombies have always fought till the bitter end. And bitter it always is, for both of us. Each fight leaves me filled with cuts and holes and with enough infections and poison to stun a team of oxen. Only careful timing and planning of my mp keeps me alive. ¡­ If what I am can be called alive anymore. I would think at this point the system would recognize me as an undead too. Food continues to leave me in want. Honestly, despite how hungry I am, lately I have had trouble eating the wynot tiblits. The heal and cleanse skills keep me healthy, but I have lost a significant amount of weight, weight I really couldn¡¯t afford to lose in the first place. I look like skin and bones. I think I now know what Golum felt like, having the ring of power grant him additional lifespan. I have been wondering when I will start coughing gollum as well. Like Bilbo Baggins said, ¡°I feel thin, sort of stretched, like butter scraped over too much bread.¡± A permanent lack of sleep haunts me as well. Zombies do not tire, and they constantly seek me out, exhausting me and not letting me get my beauty rest. Each evening I have to find a new place to sleep, a new ruin, and old ruin, a thick tree, a large brush, a hollowed out den. I think I know what it feels like to be homeless now, unable to settle down and to constantly be on the move less I am found and surrounded, desperate and alone. The few hours of sleep I am able to get are fitfull and short. Constant interruptions from flies, skeletons or zombies that found me, or small critters stealing their way into my alcove to grab a piece of me, and the inevitable curse every night at midnight are killing me. Each of these things are a constant torment for me. The infections are getting worse too, taking less and less time to paralyze me. I feel constantly stiff these days, it''s ironic that if it weren''t for all the interruptions in my sleep, the infection might have just killed me already. I know that the infection I have right now is currently in the red zone, almost to the point of crippling me. My mobility has been reduced to a mere shuffle. In fact, it''s probably to the point of being a fatal flaw. My mobility is the only thing I have against this armored skeleton. I take a quick glance at my mp and see that it¡¯s currently sitting at 34.The number is also doing a little jig to a weird funky tune I can hear. It seems the hallucinogens are acting up. You¡¯d think that being able to generate 13 mp a minute would be enough, but it can hardly keep up with my expenditures. It¡¯s enough though and I burn through 20 of my mp to fight off as much infection as I can. If there is one thing I have learned this last week, its how to better manipulate my skills, especially my healing and cleanse. It would have taken more mp than I have available to cleanse both of them, but by concentrating on just one function I want it to work on, I can specialize and keep myself alive a little longer. Oh joy. I feel the cleansing effect on me and instantly I feel lighter and limber, the infection mostly taken care of. I return my attention to the porcelain white skeleton trying to do me in. The bastard has that look in his nonexistent eyes that I always see near the end of battles. An impotent rage. I can understand the anger that comes from always losing, losing in video games to my older brothers every time made me crazy too. Perhaps he¡¯s upset that he¡¯s lost so many of his comrades to me here, I don¡¯t know, but near the end of these fights the skeletons always become bolder, more aggressive and take bigger risks, often throwing away their lives in a mindless attempt to finish me off for good. Its that crazy look in their eyes that I see now. He is dangerous. Not today, little soldier. Your giving me a run for my money, though. At this point, the skeleton comes at me, attacking me with sharp jabs and slicing motions. I think he knows that time is my ally here as eventually I¡¯ll gather enough mp to finish him off easily. The skeleton has his own wounds too at this point, our skirmish has lasted more than fifteen minutes and my healing abilities are far superior than their own. Both of us are stumbling around now, my evades are more like a drunken jig than knowledgeable movements. I am glad nobody is here to see my desperate scrambling around the slippery ground, short hills, and dens. I fall to the dirt more often than not, rolling around clumsily before righting myself. There are no points for style here, only the winner and loser, the alive and dead. I do my best to avoid getting more injured as I look for an opportunity to step in. The hallucinations are not helping.Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. Soon enough, the skeleton makes a mistake and slips on a small slope I had jumped up on to. It''s odd to see skeletons losing their footing, considering they only have bones down there anyway so they must have some supernatural grip, but to be fair to him, I did get him pretty good on that leg earlier. I think I had cut his knee cap or something, I couldn''t be sure through the armor. I¡¯m pretty sure I am not just seeing things so, seizing the opportunity, I pounce on the fallen soldier, its heavy black armor weighing him down as well as my weight, diminished though it is. His whole body sinks an inch into the mushy ground and I hastily set an edge skill on my skeleton dagger. Rather than trying to pry his helmet off, I just stab directly through it, reaching the skeleton¡¯s skull with the quick thrust. His body, which had been struggling mightily a moment ago, falls limp at the strike and I breathe out a sigh of relief. Fighting these armored dogs directly was too much trouble. The only real strategy I had with them was to cover their own armor with flare, basically cooking them from the inside. It took a lot of mana to use my skill of objects not in my own possession, something I learned through trial and error, but the effects were always spectacular. The only problem is getting past the pointy piece of metal the skeletons always had with them. Besides intentionally letting myself get skewered, I had no way of closing in on them. I have tried picking up the sword of a fallen skeleton before, but other than the fact that I have no idea how to use it other than pointing the sharp end forward, it is far too heavy for me. I have lost quite a bit of muscle mass here. Getting wounded a hundred different ways does that to you. Despite my best efforts, I have not been able to unlock any additional skills for my repertoire. Judging from how I acquired edge, I thought it would be rather easy to experiment with forms and come up with new ideas. Projectiles, shields, AOE attacks, bolts, any and all of these things I have tried in various forms or other, but much to my dismay I was never rewarded with a new skill. None of my attempts worked the way I wanted them too, anyway, so maybe that¡¯s the crux of the problem. Screw you, too, System. I sit down on top of the skeleton¡¯s heavily armored torso. I am too tired to move away, I¡¯ve killed all the stupids zombies and skeletons, so I should be fine. A little ways away I see the carrion birds feasting already, not even waiting for my fight to be over. They caw and heckle wildly, picking at the flesh and bones of my slain foes and swallowing them down their impossibly large gullet. They really are the clean up crew of this place but they should be thanking me. Without me, there would be nothing for them to do. I had theorized a few days ago that these birds are, in fact, officially the garbagemen of this place, and in fact they might be providing and even deeper role than I had assumed. Perhaps there was a limit to the amount of zombies and skeletons that could be produced here, relative to its ever growing size or whatever, and these birds were recycling the material so that they could be used again? Or even worse, what if by gobbling up these remains the birds are somehow returning the mana to its creator for the use of more skeletons or zombies? It¡¯s a harrowing thought, but the birds are too fast and flighty for me to take them out. I can¡¯t stop the process even if I wanted to. I start cleansing myself, finally getting rid of the effects of the poison. It¡¯s a good thing too, because a few more bars of that crazy electronic jig I was hearing and I really would have gone insane. Now I wait some more, I still need to heal the cuts and abrasions, and I have whole chunks of missing flesh yet. I survey the battlefield. It¡¯s a massacre, dozens of bodies lay on the ground in various stages of disassembly. I know the zombies are already partially decomposed, but this place looks like a week old battlefield. I don¡¯t notice the odors much anymore. In fact, I feel a little dead to everything right now. I can hardly muster up the motivation to take the arrows out. They are a sharp pain in my back, but I know they will hurt like hell on the way out. Besides poison, the skeletons like to barb their arrows too. My plan this last week was to gather up my strength, get my arm back, get a couple more skills like a good little gamer, and then follow this path to its conclusion by challenging the mage again once I gain enough levels to wipe the floor with them. It''s like when you realize that a level 8 charmander and level 9 pikachu will not allow you to defeat Brock. That plan was blown to hell when I came to the sudden and shocking realization yesterday that, in fact, this world does not revolve around me. ¡­ ... Besides the obvious self centeredness of that statement, the meaning behind it left me paralysed and in despair. I had been working under the assumption that this place was game like, like there were rules and algorithms set in place, a path per se, towards victory left there by the creator. Nobody makes an unwinnable game. But there are too many inconsistencies to this place, too many clues and hints to the fact that I am not a player here. I am an anomaly. The mage has got its own plans, big plans by the look of it, and he can¡¯t be bothered with a pest like me. I am not his rival in this game. This place has a life of its own, its growth in land mass was astonishing, the new creatures, places, lands, forests, mountains, and especially, the Temple. While before the thing was like a one bedroom shack, it has since turned into an impressive structure. My careful scouting of it left me aghast, the temple now looked like a palace instead, with huge ornate doors, pillars, rooms, and height. Gold and silver glinted in the greenish air. Whether the inside had a basement of sorts I don¡¯t know, but all it was missing was busy servants attending to the place like a magnificent english manner. The skeleton guardian was at the entrance still, his left arm regrown like my arm was and he had some friends now too, a couple armored skeletons and some archers as well. Zombies wandered around the entrance as if waiting for me to step foot in so they could tear me apart. All these things contributed to my realization, but the biggest one was that nobody was meant to survive here. It¡¯s only thanks to my bizarre acquire of these healing and cleansing powers that I am alive, no human, no matter the preparation, would be able to survive here. There is no grand plan of confrontation between good and evil, no stage of confrontation, there is no meaning in me being here. This place wasn¡¯t meant to house me and has been punishing me for my impertinence of continued living every day, ¡­ Well, screw you too. I didn¡¯t ask to be here. ¡­ Honestly, I am starting to feel like giving up. I know its unpardonable, but at this point my only hope of getting out of here is fading away like the embers in an old fire. There is so much pain here and I feel so weak and tired. Not even the juicy excitement from a level up arouses me much anymore. All I see is dead green smog coating the horizon. I had a cousin who had committed suicide. He was a veteran from the Afghanistan war, had two kids and a steady girlfriend with the baby momma. There hadn¡¯t been any signs of PTSD, as far as I could tell, but there must have been something there. Suicide wasn¡¯t something I could understand, around my cousin there were many people, friends and family, who cared deeply for him. I won¡¯t pretend I now know what he was feeling that night he took his life, but I think I can understand a feeling of true despair a little more. I am losing ground. With a sigh, I check my notifications. I dismiss all the infection notices, those blasted things are so annoying. Oh ho, looks like I leveled to 15 during the fight. It¡¯s about time. Another notification catches my attention though.
You have reached level 15! Next skill granted. Barrier: Sub-Skill of Flare
Sweet guns and roses, I finally got it. I pull up my status to look at my new acquisition.
Inner Light: (level 15) A unique light attribute class able to learn every light attribute skill and uses mana directly for every skill. Class locks all other potential attributes and skill types. Skill usage limited only to quantity of Mana available
Mana: 24/320.9796 Regen: 15.86923222 per minute
Skills: Cleanse Clear body of foreign influences
Heal Enhances natural healing
Flare Coat external surfaces with light energy to give a light attribute to object
Edge:Sub-Skill of Flare Coat the edge of a blade with light energy to give a specialized offensive light attribute to object
Barrier:Sub-Skill of Flare Project a corporeal light energy plane to create a specialized defensive light attribute barrier
Hot Dog. Hot Stinking Dog. Hot, chili smothered, cheese covered, onion blasted dog. I finally feel energy and motivation filling me and I stand up animatedly. I feel woozy for a second, but I give a fist pump to the air. I am both pissed beyond reason and eternally grateful. I have tried hundreds of times to create some sort of barrier slash shield with flare this entire time with zero success only to have it handed to me upon reaching level 15. I could have really used this a few days ago. Or a few minutes ago. I want to try this out immediately, but I suppose I should wait until I have actually healed myself. Priorities and all. If it works at all like I think it will, I believe I have just solved my biggest problem, the looming giant that has been haunting me since the day my room burned down. The dark mage¡¯s spell that took my arm away, I hadn¡¯t had any defense for it. No matter how I imagined my attack on the temple, I couldn''t get past that issue. Every chance was doomed to failure. Now, hopefully, I had a way to deal with it. Hallelujah. I close my eyes, the sense of relief is palpable. I¡¯m ending this now, I swear to God. I can¡¯t wait anymore, I can¡¯t stand this place anymore. With this new ability, I should have a good chance. This is absolute hell, and my enemies have only been growing more numerous and dangerous everyday. Now that I have a way to move forward I¡¯m taking it and I am not stopping. I¡¯m not going to spend another second here; it¡¯s either going to be him or me. It''s do or die now, and at this point, I am no longer afraid of death. I¡¯m coming for you, you scrawny mage bastard in your huge stinking temple. My arm is crying for vengeance. When my mp is is high enough I pull out the arrows in my back. Ouch. That really hurts. Chapter 15 ~ Hounded If there is one person who I desire to see again the most, I guess it would be my youngest sister, Lara. After having four boys within three years of each other, I guess my parents decided to go the easy route and just adopt a four month old girl straight up from Korea when I was nine. This little girl would become my current roommate, 19 years old now with a full scholarship to the local state university, this hotshot girl is a crazy tomboy perfectionist who had to deal with four older brothers beating her at every game while growing up. I¡¯m sure that¡¯s what drove her nuts, which is why she spends nine hours on a school project for the perfect A when I would have spent a single hour and been happy with an A minus. She¡¯s crazy and I love her, but don¡¯t ask her what she wants to do after she graduates from undergrad. She hates that question. My other sister is a different breed. My parents weren¡¯t looking to adopt again, but a friendly family we knew had the habit of adopting kids (they were at thirteen currently) and where looking at another potential adoptee, a three year old deaf girl in an orphanage in China. What connections that family had to be able to scout out a single child in a country of billions of people I have no idea, but when they decided it wasn¡¯t feasible for them to adopt another, they floated the idea to our parents. Thee had adopted one already, what¡¯s another child? Somehow the idea stuck and a year later my parents returned from a trip to China with a four year old deaf girl in their arms. I remember how unreal it was seeing my first sister arrive on a plane at four months old, seeing a four year old suddenly introduced as a sister was even more so. How are we supposed to interact with a kid who¡¯s method of communication was point and grunt and had four years of life in an orphanage on literally the other side of the world? The wonders of technology availed themselves and soon Lara had a cochlear implant surgically implanted on her making her technically a cyborg. With her newfound hearing ability, she struggled to come to grips with language and learning, always behind in school. But Lara is, if nothing else, a bright golden flower, easily making friends everywhere she goes. Now she is fifteen and she has blossomed into a beautiful, if short, young woman, with a penchant for beating me in video games and for painting and drawing. My parents had been struggling for years to find a subject she could embrace and excel in and art seems to be the winner. My brothers got married and left the house before me, so they never got to see Lara grow up like I did and I don¡¯t think they appreciate her as much as they should. They underestimate her intelligence and worth, in my humble opinion. I¡¯m the favorite brother by far, but it¡¯s only natural as I had spent years with her as a brother while everybody else had gotten married and moved away. I tolerate hugs from friends and family, but Lara is the only one I actively latch onto. She is so cute and small, her head stands basically at my chest. She fits right into my arms and a good poke to her sides always elicits a sharp, ¡°Stop Greg!¡±. She likes holding onto me despite that and tells me about her day, her week, her latest drawing, painting, or adventure at her private school or whatever is on her mind. Nothing warms my heart quite like Lara does. Oh, God, please let me see her again. Despite my new burning ambition to immediately rush my enemy, a cooler head prevailed. Before I attacked, I really needed to figure out what and how my new barrier ability works less it fail me when I need it most. Which is why I had decided last night to rest and heal before I move out against my enemy. I also used the time to test out my new ability, and let me tell you, it is a good thing I did. There are severe limitations to its uses that would have gotten me killed had I relied on it overly much. Its mp cost is just staggering. I raided a small ruin that evening that I had used a few nights before, killing its small agruimen inhabitants and a small new species of bat like creatures that tried to literally suck the life energy out of me. The little alcove was dank and uncomfortable but was at least able to provide a little security to me. If skeletons wanted to stab my heart out again, they had to crawl through this little hole that served as the opening, just like I did. Normally, claustrophobia would have ruled this cramped place out but I am way beyond being over that. I cleansed around the inside of the small cave thing, including as much as I can with the mucky dirt below me. The cleanse would give me a few hours of peace but, soon, little insects like worms and centipedes would start emerging from the dirt and start eating me alive. I hate those things. The night was harrowing and dangerous, I almost died a few times from infection and this crazy new parasite worm burrowed into my stomach halfway through the night after I had dealt with the midnight curse. That was was awful, the worst part was that it didn''t really hurt, I think it excreted a numbing agent. I only woke up due to a sudden trouble with breathing. The horrid creature had already eaten away most of my stomach and was now munching on a lung. I cleansed the demon and healed myself before getting back to my beauty rest. No zombies or skeletons found me, so it was a good night. Morning found me soon enough, half paralyzed with infections. I cleansed myself good and tried to eat a sparse breakfast of wynot bites before exiting, but after choking on the stuff for a few minutes I eventually gave up. Today was the day, wasn¡¯t it? I can¡¯t eat this stuff anymore, if I can¡¯t get a win then I¡¯ll just slowly starve to death. Probably really slowly too, considering my healing skill, it''s probably not a pleasant way to go. I shiver at the thought. What¡¯s worse, getting disemboweled and strangled by your own entrails by a laughing skeleton, or starving to death? I really can¡¯t decide. No, I need to end this today. It''s not about survival anymore, its about my sanity. I may have already crossed that line, but I sure hope not. I really need to see my Lara again and it won¡¯t do if I return only to get stuck in an insane asylum or worse. C''mon, keep it together Greg. I¡¯m now hiding in some bushes just outside of no man¡¯s land around the temple. The gorgeous palace temple is huge and it''s now one hundred yard diameter around its base is still empty and bereft of anything besides brown dirt. No muck either, which is annoying as that bacteria and virus filled goo is literally everywhere else here. If I had slept on a patch of this dirt near the edge, would all of those biting insects of worms from last night had gotten me? That¡¯s assuming I¡¯d be able to survive the dozens of zombies and skeletons patrolling around the temple. I¡¯ve watched these people over the last few days, but for all their walking and moving around, they don¡¯t leave the temple grounds. They just circle endlessly like a perimeter watch. I guess that mage did learn his lesson. ¡­ This attack on the temple is not going to be a walk in the park. It¡¯s probably going to be more like trying to defeat Lara in Super Smash Brothers while using the new-fangled controller. It takes the use of every dirty trick, every sneaky attack, every shameful strategy, every little advantage my years of video game experience can muster to defeat that little girl. And even then it''s a toss up. That dirty girl, how dare she defeat her venerated older brother? Besides the army of zombies surrounding the temple with a few skeleton soldiers mixed in, there are three armored skeletons guarding the steps to the temple. Impressive steps, I must say now. While before the entrance looked like a poor porch to a house, the steps are now pillared and bright, with white stone instead of dirty gray. The undead troops look out of place in this glorious palace. I also see a few skeleton archers scattered around, up on higher raised platforms or on top of the steps like good archers should be. Besides the many zombies and skeletons, I was actually expecting to see more of the armored or archer types around, but I suppose there are several death squads scattered around the land looking for me. If everybody was gathered here, then I really would be in trouble. And, of course, the Guardian Skeleton is there. I think he is a unique summon for our dear mage, its the only one that has a modicum of self preservation and he is also the only one of that type I see. Which is good, because I don''t know if I can handle just that one, much less a whole flock of them. He¡¯s standing just outside the door with a perfect view of the whole space of no man¡¯s land like a commander over an army. I suppose he is one. He¡¯s the guy who burned down my house too, I remember that look he gave me as he left the site. He thinks I am scum. I suppose its his job to protect his master, but he made this far too personal. He¡¯s the only one here besides the mage who has any kind of personality, and its a bad one. ¡­ Yes, the animosity is real. I can definitely say, I hate him, please die. By my hand, preferably. I sigh as I look around. It¡¯s going to be troublesome just getting to the door, who knows what kind of crap I¡¯ll have to deal with once I am inside. I look up to the top left corner of my vision. The countdown is not there, meaning that Pesos is out there right now, stalking me. Her smarts are off the charts these days. If she had opposable thumbs, I¡¯m sure she would be building traps and pitfalls for me by now. She is sure to attack me when it is the most inconvenient. She¡¯s probably sensing my intentions now and is just waiting for me to be vulnerable. I wish she¡¯d attack and just get it over with, I don¡¯t want to have to deal with her along with the undead army. Time is on her side though. I glance around me, but I can¡¯t see her. She¡¯s around somewhere, definitely. I take a slow deep breath, one that won¡¯t immediately infect me, and close my eyes. This is it. I¡¯m resolved to do or die. I can¡¯t keep living here in hell. ¡­ ¡­ ¡­ ... Rats, I was hoping Pesos would attack me if I appeared vulnerable. I guess I was hoping for too much. Giving up, I open my eyes and take off my backpack, take my two skeleton daggers, tucking one into my waste in a makeshift sheath. I also have one attached to my left arm and one on my right thigh. I am no ninja, but I have learned you can never have enough daggers. It took dozens of tries and experiments to figure out the right placing of these daggers so that I don¡¯t stab myself constantly and can still retrieve each of them easily during the fight. I don¡¯t take Thor¡¯s Hammer with me because I won¡¯t be using flare during this battle, it uses up too much mp. I¡¯ve become decently proficient with edge and I¡¯ll have to stick with it for now. So, what¡¯s my objective? Take out the Prophet of Regret, of course. The minions will keep spawning indefinitely, so attempting to kill them all would be futile. I just need to kill those standing in my way, bypass those I can bypass, bum rush the mage, and kill him. With any luck a cutscene will appear and send me back home. Or drag me down to the depths to meet Gravemind, I¡¯m not sure. Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. I take one last look around and then rush in. It¡¯s impossible to hide from zombies, I¡¯ve learned that the hard way. I can¡¯t sneak up on them and they always know where I am once they have sight of me or if I am within a twenty foot radius of them. I don¡¯t know how they do it, magic is the obvious answer. Only the zombies have it though, it would be trouble if the stronger skeleton undead had that ability too, but I guess that would be too overpowered. But since the skeletons always keep a gaggle of zombies around, it makes it impossible for sneaking. Additionally, my speed is my greatest asset, I far outpace anything here, even the stupid guardian skeleton. Rushing in really is the best option for me, I believe, especially with Pesos out there waiting for me. I¡¯ve tried drawing the zombies away from the temple before but many of them seem bound to the no man¡¯s land. As soon as I enter no man¡¯s land, the heads of dozens of zombies immediately turn my way. It''s super eerie, but I can get a good dozen feet before they all start congregating towards me. The skeletons are right behind them too, following the radar like abilities of their lessors. I see on the steps to the temple the guardian become alert and look down at me. He then waves his hands at his men around him and the archers and armored skeletons start moving into positions of some kind. Then he looks back at me with his cold black eye sockets. Looks like he is ready for round two. I can¡¯t spend too much attention on the steps though as soon enough bodies are congregating around me. With practiced smooth thrusts of my edged dagger, I easily take out the zombies in my direct path and then I practically walk over the bodies as they collapse. I am in a hurry, you know? The skeleton soldiers are lining up to be killed too, and soon enough I¡¯ve got a couple of them under my belt too along with a couple vicious kamikaze stabs into my stomach with their own skeleton daggers. While painful, I ignore it, my healing abilities have created an unfortunate battle style where I unhesitatingly take wounds in exchange for death blows. That will surely catch up to me one day, but for now it works and that¡¯s all that matters. I¡¯ll heal it when I think it''s too debilitating. I¡¯m halfway to the temple when the first arrow shoots out at me. I dodge it easily as I saw it coming, but as always, I marvel at the accuracy of the skeleton. They don¡¯t have a long range and their arrows aren''t too fast to counter, but they only ever fire when they have a shot. And they hit where they aim. Its uncanny, their unerring ways, if I was a stationary target, or moved in a consistent direction, I would be pincushioned quickly. Another arrow shoots out at me and I am able to dodge it as well, but I can¡¯t afford to keep dodging arrows, I¡¯ll never make it to the steps. And in the meantime, the mass of zombies are still closing in around me. I press on, and soon another arrow comes at me that I can¡¯t afford to dodge or risk getting entangled with a group of zombies. I activate my barrier for the first time this battle. In the path of the arrow a small half transparent wall appears, like a pane of glass forming a tight angle to me. It gives off a light glow, nothing much, nothing like the light a full flare would provide. It''s a stationary thing and I almost run headlong into it. If I reached out and touched it it would feel cool and slippery, like ice but not nearly as cold. There isn¡¯t much friction to be had there, I suppose it is an immaterial thing. Last night I had pounded on it with my fists to check its strength and it felt like I was slapping a concrete slab. It is very unyielding. I can¡¯t move much while the barrier is active as the further I get away from the barrier the more expensive it gets. The arrow hits the angled barrier and is deflected away, actually hitting an approaching zombie in the chest. I doubt the arrow will do much damage to a zombie, but I smirk at the thought. Before, I had been at the mercy of the arrows, but now I have a counter. During the short time the barrier was up, I dispatched the three zombies with quick upper stabs with a dagger, directly up their throats and into their skulls. It¡¯s almost too easy. While a regular strike wouldn¡¯t have been enough to do any real damage, my edge skill effectively liquified any undead matter it touches, including the zombie¡¯s brain. The barrier lasted only a quick few seconds and then shatters spectacularly, almost immediately after the arrow had glanced off of it. I learned last night that these barriers are super black holes for mp, a small basic one sucking up nearly twenty mp a second! And their consumption rate is directly related to the amount of force applied against them. The glancing blow from earlier has a relatively small additional cost, but a direct strike would surely have sucked a good fifty mp from me. I can¡¯t afford such a thing. That said, there is almost no limit to its abilities, besides being stationary once its cast, as long as I have the mp to back it up. The bigger the barrier, the more costly the mp. I need to run a dangerous game of spending as little mp as possible to achieve the maximum results. A mis-calculation would leave me in a pinch. I suppose there is a reason I couldn¡¯t have gotten the barrier skill earlier, I wouldn¡¯t have had the mp to sustain it. If I create a normal barrier it will stay in existence until it drains my mp completely, unless I will it away. I discovered a far better use of it last night where I can invest just a certain amount of mp and lock it in place so that it exists until it uses up is allocated amount. This allows me to not to think too much about it as I haphazardly place barriers, but of course, if I mis-judge the amount of mp needed, I end up with a barrier failing and me getting hit with whatever it was intended to block. A fine line, indeed. I press on, healing a few of the more serious wounds I am getting and dodging as many arrows as I can and deflecting the rest of them with costly barriers. I know that I am extremely difficult to kill, so the most effect way to get me is to wear me down with infections and poisons, debuffing me until I am helpless. My avoiding the poisoned arrows is huge. The closer I get the the steps the more concentrated the arrows are and the denser the melee combat is, but I think I can use the mass of bodies in my favor a little. With a little effort I can block the line of sight for a few of their archers with the bodies of their own zombies. It works a little, but it would be best if I could just run a nice zig zag pattern at them. Unfortunately, that''s not an option. I look up at the steps again, eyeing the three archers there, protected by three armored skeletons. The guardian is studying me too, and I give him a good glare. After a moment, I see him waive two of his armored skeletons forward and they march down at me, pushing their ally undead aside with their strong metal arms. Then the Guardian walked away back to the door of the temple and of my sight. What is he planning now? I don¡¯t like it but I don¡¯t have time to consider it as soon the armored skeletons will be on me. I have said it before, but I hate these armored skeletons, even more than the archers. They are skilled and have a long range with their swords and with that armor they are immune to direct attacks with flare. If they were wearing undead armor, like a chestplate of bones or something, I think I could get them easily, but with their steel or iron plating, I don¡¯t know which, it is just unfair. Suddenly I see, out of the corner of my eye, Pesos stalking the edge of the horde. Her unearthly black coat and flame like feet are out of place in the dull brown and gray setting. Her eyes are staring at me, her red pupils glowing in hate. She walks silently, pacing as if waiting for a chance. Great, I knew she would appear, but seeing her now is making me anxious. Directly taking on the armored skeletons is not an option for me, so I try to take a detour around them, pushing through a crowd of zombies rather than facing their steel. I am much faster than them, so it should work. I just need to avoid getting bogged down less they reach me. Mobility is the key here. Several more zombies go down in my path, an I am thankful for my mp regen abilities. At 15 a minute I am gaining an significant amount back, especially as I use the skill edge on these weak opponents. The greatest use of mp so far has been the barriers reflecting the arrows, I am down a third of my total mp pool. Zombies have long stopped being a real threat to me days ago. Since I am no longer afraid of them, my quickness can allow me to dispatch them before they can even raise their arms to grab me. Without the shackles of hesitation, it''s like they are moving at quarter speed. The greatest threat they pose are their physical bodies getting in my way, which is a serious problem. My physical strength has waned in my time here. I¡¯ve steered a little off my course in trying to bypass the armored skeletons, I¡¯m now approaching the steps from a little to the left of the white stone.The armored skeletons are still making a beeline at me through the zombies but even though I have to travel a large circle around them, I still have the speed on them. These damn arrows are a pain though, they are really hampering my movement. A moment later I miss one coming at me and it hits me in the back shoulder, slamming me forward a little, into the arms of a small zombie. I shouldn¡¯t have spoken. With a grimace, I stab the zombie even as he gnaws on my left forearm, drawing blood. On my knee, I then reach back and pull out the barbed arrow with a strangled grunt. Of course, another arrows zooms at me and I am forced to cast a quick barrier to prevent additional damage. I invest fifteen mp into it and it last only for the briefest of moments to defect the arrow, it''s ghostly appearance hardly noticeable in the chaotic battle. I cleanse and heal myself, pushing forward again as I notice the armored skeletons getting closer during my brief struggle. I glance at my mp and I feel a sinking sensation as I see its at 170. I¡¯m not even to the steps yet and I have already used almost have of my reserves. Damn it. I notice one of the archers got a little too close to me, he must have moved to get a better angle on me. He¡¯s still standing on top a ledge attached to the temple, and he was reloading for another shot at me. Foolish fool, his positioning got him a nice shot to my shoulder, but it''s going to cost him. Without hesitation I flare my dagger and whip it at him. Thankfully, my aim is true and it glances off its right shoulder, exploding it and knocking him back. Excellent, one archer down. Even if he¡¯s not dead, without his right shoulder, he is no longer a threat. I sense movement up on the steps and see that the guardian has returned and the mage is with him now. I feel a burning hatred rise in my chest as I look at the shallow and pale face of the mage. Am I going to have to fend of his projectile spells too? Despite my anger, I also feel a sense of alarm. Honestly, I''m not ready to battle the boss yet, can¡¯t he wait back patiently for me look a good boss should? The mage doesn''t look at me though, he appears to be shouting and gesturing at somebody on the other side of the clearing. Despite myself, I look at what he¡¯s looking at and am shocked to see Pesos there, looking up angrily back at the mage. Another harsh yell I can''t translate and fierce gestures and I see Pesos lower her head and head up to the mage, a beaten and submissive dog. Holy cow, what does that mage think he is doing? I can¡¯t afford to pay too close attention, and the Guardian is glaring at me still, his spear still unraised, but I see Pesos come and then stand back from the mage like the unwilling hound she is. Some more furious shouting from the mage comes and the dog lowers her head again and sits up next to the mage resentfully. What¡¯s going on? Did they have a falling out? I can¡¯t give it too much thought as a large mutant zombie gets in my way and this one is especially tall. I can¡¯t even reach its head with a dagger, how am I supposed to take it out? With regret, I use flare on my hand and and use my Holy Fist to punch straight through the large beast¡¯s chest. Its guts and blood covers me in its sickening stench and goo. Stink, blast, that really sucks. I guess it is a good thing I didn¡¯t eat this morning, I might have threw it all up then and there. As the colossus zombie falls I see the mage again, it looks like he is putting a spell or something on Pesos. An ominous feeling washes over me as I see a black tendril wrap itself around Pesos, then expand and cover the dog in a smokey mane. The dog snorts and skips about in agitation, but soon enough the procedure is over and the dog looks more dangerous than ever before. Pesos gives the mage a sharp snap once its over, but the mage pulls back his handin time. He gives Pesos a dark glare. I can hear Pesos¡¯s growls from over here. Then I hear the mage shout and point at me and I can guess what he is saying. ¡°There! You¡¯re target is over there! Go get him!¡± Something along those line. Pesos turns her head toward me and her now bright glowing red eyes stare daggers into my soul. Excited energy bursts in her and she lets out a loud howl like a wolf. Then she pounces forward, her racing instinct seemingly coming into play. No longer is she playing along the edges, she is now making a beeline at me, snorting and blowing her acidic fire out of her mouth like a rabid dog. An aura, if such a thing exists here, starts growing around her, a black miasma cloud expanding as if to envelop the battlefield. Oh stink man, I don¡¯t like the look of this. Did that damned mage give her a powerup? Despite myself, I recoil and step back instinctively. Bad move, the zombies I was outpacing start to grab me from behind and the armored skeletons are still closing in. It might not matter though, Pesos is coming in much too fast, slipping right through the crowd. I am forced to wrestle away from the two zombies that had grabbed me from behind and I smash their faces in desperately before I whirl around to face Pesos. I almost regret it as a pitch black fog and a fierce snarling hound slams into me. Chapter 16 ~ Its all in your mind After I regained myself after being bulled over by Pesos and her dark cloud, I was surprised to not see Pesos around. I was expecting acid breath, sharp rangs, cruel claws, the nine nine yards all on me at once in a rage fuel frenzy. In fact, when I opened my eyes, I found I was quite alone. The noise of the battle was gone, the zombies, skeletons, the mage and the temple had all disappeared. Around me instead was just a black shroud, like I was standing in a dark room all by myself. Unlike that theory though, my own body, still covered in blood and gore, was perfectly visible despite the lack of any source of light. Weird. I look around some more, but it really is just a pitch blackness. Whatever that aura was, its really screwing with me. I cast identify but nothing comes up. I try to cast any of my other spells but nothing doin¡¯. No flare, heal, or cleanse. Lastly, I check my status but I can¡¯t even pull that up. My daggers are gone too. ¡­ Huh. ¡­ Am I dead? Is this death? I suppose it''s possible I got one shotted by Pesos. That would really stink, I really wanted to get home. Or maybe I did die and now I am being respawned or whatever? Perhaps I¡¯ll be sent back home after failing this instance. I look around hopefully, but still, there is nothing. Blast. I really hope I don¡¯t have to spend eternity like this. Then I see a shape forming close by. I squint at it, my glasses were broken days ago, and soon a figure appears in the blackness. I was ready for God or somebody to appear, but the man there was not anywhere close to whom I could have expected. The man in front of me is around my height, with soft wrinkles and a full set of graying hair. Hazel eyes and firm glance, he throws a comforting smile at me. ¡°Dad!¡± I croak out in astonishment. The voice comes out horse as I realize I haven¡¯t really spoken in a while. Great, its mind games now. It¡¯s a classic move from the villian, but I am not going to fall for it. I study the Dad figure for a moment. He feels so real, like he is there, and it''s pulling on my heart. I just want to run up and grab him and never let go. He¡¯s always been the strong father to me, I¡¯ve been bringing him troubles for years, from a dead car battery to buying a house. I want nothing more than to depend on him now. I grit my teeth at these feelings. ¡°Pesos!¡± I call out angrily, ¡°I am not falling for this. Come out right now!¡± There is no response, but I see a frown form on my dad¡¯s face. ¡°Pesos, I mean it!¡± I shout out, turning my back to my dad. ¡°Come out and fight me!¡± I don¡¯t know if Pesos can understand my language, but I don¡¯t care. Pulling my dad here is a low blow. ¡°Gregory,¡± I hear behind me, Dad¡¯s voice stern. I can¡¯t help but flinch at the sound. Dad only calls me by my full name when he is upset. I turn around and scowl at him. Dad hardly ever got mad at me, I wasn¡¯t the bad child. It was my eldest brother who got the brunt of Dad¡¯s ire, he and his rebellious ways. But the few times I did make him angry are very clear in my mind. ¡°What, Dad?¡± I ask in exasperation. I probably shouldn¡¯t interact with the illusion, but I can¡¯t help myself. ¡°I¡¯m in the middle of something here, go bother somebody else.¡± Dad shakes his head at me, ¡°We need to talk, you can¡¯t run away from this anymore.¡± I¡¯m annoyed now. Whatever this illusion has got planned for mind tricks, it¡¯s going to take more than vague phrases to get me worked up. I don''t even know where he could go with this, I live a pretty carefree first world life. What could he possibly pull that wouldn¡¯t be so out of character for him that the message would actually stick? I¡¯d like to just tell him to shut up and bring Pesos, but I have a hard time saying the phrase ¡°shut up¡± in the first place, much less direct it at my dad. I just glare at him some more while calling for Pesos again. Dad reaches behind his back and pulls out a piece of paper. Despite myself, I am a little curious as to what it could possibly be, so I watch him. Unfolding it, he holds it up for me so see and asks, ¡°Can you tell me what this is?¡± ¡­ ... Oh. I guess they could go that route. That was eight years ago though, so its ancient history now. I don¡¯t respond and turn my back to Dad again. There has got to be a way out of here other than interacting with this illusion. I call out again to the darkness before I hear Dad¡¯s voice become angry. ¡°Gregory, answer the question.¡± Dad hasn¡¯t been stern with me in over a decade. I¡¯m just not used to hearing that tone of voice from him being directed at me. It makes me tense and upset even though I know its not real. I turn around and face him again. I¡¯ll appease him for now, I¡¯m not ashamed anymore of that thing. I say flatley, ¡°Its my grade for US history, Dad. Big deal.¡± The big C is staring at me from the page. It¡¯s the only C I had gotten in a class at university. Idly, I realize it''s absurd to have a single document represent the class and its grade, but somehow, here, it does. Weird. Its a C too, not the end of the world. It may have felt like the end of the world at the time, but after a few years I realized it had exactly zero impact on my life. Dad sighs and puts the paper away. ¡°I don¡¯t care about the grade, Greg, I¡¯ve always told you that. I have had my share of low grades in college too.¡± Its true. Dad grew up with a pretty serious form of dyslexia which made reading and studying difficult for him. He was kind of a delinquent in high school, barely scraping by, caring only about the swimming team he was on. In college he got a degree in restaurant food and management, not the most strenuous program academically. It wasn''t until he got married and had kids that he started applying himself, abandoning the rough hours of restaurant life and getting an education degree and becoming a high school teacher. He ended up getting a master¡¯s degree too, in education, a feat his younger self couldn¡¯t have imagined. He is an example of a person maturing and overcoming his obstacles for the sake of his family. He¡¯s the man I admire and respect the most. When I become a father, I want to be just like him. ¡°It¡¯s not about getting the good grade¡± he continued, ¡°it''s about doing your best. I¡¯ve always told you that, you have got to use the gifts that God has given you. Tell me, Greg, did you do your best in this course?¡± I didn¡¯t answer the question because the answer was obvious. Also, this is further confirmation that Dad here, is an illusion created from my memories. Nobody knew about this particular grade in this particular class from eight years ago because I never told anybody and nobody ever asked. It was my little secret. Besides, I¡¯m way over it by now. My father pressed anyway. ¡°Greg, answer the question.¡± ¡°No,¡± I replied in irritation. Where the Hell was Pesos? I shouldn¡¯t have to deal with this. ¡°It was eight years ago and I was a punk.¡± ¡°What happened?¡± my dad asked seriously, ¡°was the class too hard?¡± I snort and look away. This is stupid. Pesos really needs to step up her game if she thinks this will phase me. ¡°Of course not,¡± Dad answers his own questions with a smile, ¡°Academics always came easy to you, much easier than your brothers and even your younger sister, despite her better grades. If you had bothered to apply yourself, you could have performed much better in all your classes, not just this one. Here, though,¡± he added, smacking the paper, ¡°you messed up big. The exams and homework were easy enough, you did well on that work despite your limited studying. No, in this class, you just decided not to complete a book report, worth 25% of you grade. Just throwing away points, Greg? It''s not worth your time?¡± I grimace. Yeah, I knew you were going to say that. I remember clearly the look of disappointment in my professor¡¯s eyes as he squeezed my shoulders in fatherly frustration after I told him I hadn¡¯t done the report, even after the week long window had passed where I could have turned it in late. He had had my older brother in classes before and knew my Mom well as she worked at the university too, so he felt closer to me than, perhaps, other students. He had said to me at that time, ¡°You¡¯re just throwing away points, Greg!¡± I couldn¡¯t help but answer my Dad. I mumbled back, ¡°It¡¯s not like I just decided not to do it.¡± ¡°No,¡± Dad said right back, ¡°You are right. You intended to do it right up until the moment you didn¡¯t. You waited and waited all the way up until the morning it was due to write it. Intending on just skimming the book and writing out the ten page report in a few hours?¡± I shrug back at Dad, what can I say? It wasn¡¯t the first or last time I had done that. With a sigh, I relax and face my dad squarely. It seems like the only way out of this is to face this problem squarely. And to be fair, this is a walk in the park and I¡¯m not remotely ashamed about the stupid report anymore. I¡¯ve faced bigger problems before breakfast. He shook his head like he knew what I was thinking, ¡°But this time you didn¡¯t write it. Instead you took a look at the book, skimmed through for a few minutes, opened up Word, stared at it and then shut it all down and went back to bed, writing off the points like it was bad debt.¡± This illusion was reading my mind quite well, because that¡¯s exactly what happened. I roll my eyes, I am a bad procrastinator and I know it. I¡¯ve had the procrastination speech from Mom so many times I couldn¡¯t count them. I¡¯ve got Dad¡¯s number now though, next he¡¯s going to say how irresponsible I was, how what a privilege higher education was and how I had squandered it. How many people would love to have the opportunity Yada, yada, yada. Well, too bad for him, those words are a gross exaggeration. And got my degree and my job, thank you very much. I know it all already, Dad. It was eight years ago and at this point you¡¯re preaching to the choir. If I went back in time I surely would have been more responsible. I smile at Dad. It¡¯s actually kind of nice here, I don¡¯t have to worry about infections, skeletons, zombies, or mages. Just me and a bad Dad illusion. This will be easy. ¡°I know Dad, I messed up,¡± I say, trying to take the wind out of his sails. ¡°I was young and stupid, and I have learned from it. It was a long time ago and I have matured since then.¡± ¡°Have you really?¡± Dad asks with a scowl. I frown. Of course I have, I¡¯m an adult now with a real job with people depending on me and a house with a mortgage. All these things I couldn''t even imagine when I was in college. I hated just answering phones back then.If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. ¡°Don¡¯t I always say to you, if I can¡¯t trust you with the small things, how can I trust you with the big ones?¡± He certainly did say that a lot. It was logic I couldn''t ever fight against. It made it so that even white lies were unacceptable. ¡°If I can¡¯t trust you to do the work for a class, to do your best in your responsibility, how can I trust you with the bigger aspects of life? Aren''t you proving yourself already?¡± I feel like his logic is unfair and his words make me angry. He¡¯s never directly questioned me like this before, but it¡¯s what I have questioned inside of myself. ¡°I have proved myself,¡± I bite back, ¡°I have a job and the people there love me. I am the best worker they have.¡± Dad scoffs, ¡°It¡¯s an easy job for you. It¡¯s not challenging at all, just the way you like it. As always, you take the path of least resistance. You¡¯re not like your sister at all.¡± I grit my teeth at that. ¡°Your sister, she puts everything into what she does, but you, you do as little as you can to get by. And your brothers, they also work hard, they push for it, and they get what they want. That¡¯s what you lack, you¡¯re lazy and you compare yourself to lesser people to make yourself feel better.¡± ... I admit, I am frustrated and angry now and I realize what is going on. This isn¡¯t Dad talking to me at all, this is myself in the form of Dad. These are the things I feel inside of me sometimes, the arguments I make against myself. And, while I have thought along these lines before, it is completely different having them voiced aloud and coming from somebody I respect. I don¡¯t answer my Dad and just look away. After a moment, he continues, ¡°You could have done so much more with your life, but look at you. You sit at a small job, doing basic work for basic pay with no ambition and few friends. What do you spend your free time doing, Greg?¡± I¡¯ve heard that argument before, too. What a person spends his time doing is what they value. I spend my free time alone in my house, usually reading fantasy novels. Dad shakes his head at me, ¡°That¡¯s what you value?¡± A snarl hits my face and I shout back, ¡°I¡¯m HAPPY with my life, Dad! How many people do you know that can say that?? I like my job, I like my house, I like my family. Do you know how many people I work with who can''t say any of those things?¡¯ I waive my hands around, ¡°They are divorced, away from their kids, in a job they don¡¯t like and they grumble and complain and drink. I don¡¯t do any of that.¡± ¡°You compare yourself with them again?¡± Dad says crossly, ¡°There¡¯s always somebody worse than you out there. And you say you are happy but is that really the case? As you escape into your fantasy novels?¡± I grind my teeth and don¡¯t respond. In the back of my mind I realize I am getting pulled in too deep into this illusion, but I can¡¯t help it. ¡°Why are you still single, Greg?¡± I hate that question. ¡°It''s all connected, isn''t it? You¡¯re scared of new things, paralytically so. You''ve dated one girl for a single year in your ten years of availability and that ended because you were too scared to actually do anything with the relationship, too scared and too ignorant. She left you because of that, didn¡¯t she?¡± That¡¯s a low blow and nobody would say that to me in real life. But deep down, I have always wondered if that was what she really thought. ¡°She saw you for what you really are, what you hide from everybody,¡± Dad scoffs, ¡°That you are lazy and selfish. You want a family but its too hard to get in a relationship with a girl. You want a career advancement, but it''s too much work to go out and get a MBA or CPA. You want friends, but you don¡¯t put in the time to sustain them. You prefer your own company over everybody else, and what you do for others you do grudgingly to keep up your appearances and social demands.¡± Dad takes a deep breath, staring at me, and continues slowly, ¡°If you had it your way, you would lock yourself in your house every night and abandon all your current relationships with friends and family because they are just too much effort to maintain.¡± I feel sick. It¡¯s much easier to ignore these thoughts when they are just inside my mind. Dad crosses his arms and asks, ¡°Where do you see yourself in forty years?¡± Damn. I know where he is going with this too. It¡¯s what I ask myself. ¡°You know what I see, don¡¯t you Greg?¡± he says, staring away at distance as if the future was just over the horizon, ¡°At your current rate, In forty years, your mother and I will pass away and you¡¯ll be alone. Your brothers will probably have grandkids by then, your sisters will have been married off, but you¡¯ll be by yourself in your house with nobody around. You¡¯ll be disenfranchised from your friends and you¡¯ll be a bitter lonely old man full of regret because you knew you just needed to put in some effort in the past but it¡¯s too late now.¡± he pulls out the grade again and lays it before me again. ¡°You¡¯ll feel the same sense of regret, shame, and failure you had when you couldn¡¯t finish the book report, except on a magnified scale. You think you have changed? You think you¡¯ll still be happy, Greg? Don¡¯t make me laugh!¡± I can feel my heart beating fast inside of me. My face is flushed and I am soaking my shirt in sweat. These are the fears I have at night when I am alone. ¡°I¡¯m only twenty-eight, Dad!¡± I shout, ¡°Lay off!¡± ¡°You can¡¯t fool me Greg, even if you try to fool yourself. You haven¡¯t changed in eight years, and you won¡¯t change in another twenty! You¡¯ll still be the selfish, lazy, irresponsible, hypocritical, and self-defeating man. Face it, Greg, you¡¯re not a good person, and nobody will ever want to be with you.¡± Oh man. This hurts. I know that this is a mind game, but, God, this really hurts. It''s worse because I already partially believe these things, these are all thoughts that have floated in my mind over the last several years. It¡¯s been a hard week, and this is not helping. I could have really used a pep talk, Dad, not this. And, despite what happens in here, I¡¯m still in a load of trouble outside. It¡¯s doubtful if I¡¯ll even survive that. Dad is getting in my face now, and I lean back reflexively. His hard angry face is pointed at me, something I have never seen. He yells at me, ¡°Do you really think you are a good person, Greg? Tell me, do you really have any worth as a person!? Answer me!!¡± It¡¯s a good question. How do you determine to value of a person? I don¡¯t know, but if these arguments are anything to go by, I surely am falling short. Squandering potential is a heavy sin that Dad instilled in me, whether intentionally or not. Dad¡¯s own life shows what somebody who is disadvantaged can do, how much more so can somebody with an advantage? My own values accuse me as I can¡¯t live up to them. I¡¯ve never been good at arguing with myself. I¡¯ve learned to seek objective opinions less I get too depressed. It time to bring in my back up because I know that if I argue with myself, I always lose. I¡¯ve got some outside arguments from people I know and trust. After I had broken up with my girlfriend I was miserable. I was thinking a lot of things about myself, many of them along the same lines that Dad had just given here. My eldest brother and I were going to go watch the latest marvel movie together to have some fun on this miserable day. But before that he took me out to a brewery for a bite to eat. We talked during the meal. ¡°I know what you are feeling, Greg,¡± he had said to me with a knowing smile at my dismal frown as we sat across from each other, the potato wedges untouched. What he said was probably true too, a few years earlier his wife had left him. ¡°You¡¯re feeling a little worthless, right now, aren¡¯t you?¡± I nodded at that. I was feeling more than that but I was definitely feeling that one too. ¡°Well, your not.¡± he said bluntly. Thanks bro. But then he took a gulp of beer and expounded. ¡°You¡¯re a good person, Greg. You care for others more than you care for yourself. You¡¯ll do things for me, and your other brothers without question, hard things. Like opening up the restaurant with me. I know it wasn¡¯t your first choice and you would have never done it by for even yourself, but for me? No problem.¡± I don¡¯t answer and I remain unconvinced as I stare at my bubbly root beer. ¡°Trust me, Greg, you are very selfless. In fact you are the most selfless person I know. You never take offense at anything, you are quick to forgive and slow to anger.¡± he puts his hands together and continues, ¡°You¡¯re like the glue that holds are family together, you know? You are everybody¡¯s favorite brother, the one everybody gets along with. If there is any strife,we all know to come to you, you know that? You sacrificed a lot, not just for me, but for all of us. And you¡¯re content with your life, that¡¯s a gift, you know? Some people live their lives never being happy, always wanting more, but you¡¯re content and you give your time away freely. That means a lot to me and I know it means a lot to the brothers too. And Mom and Dad. You visit them, like, every weekend, right?¡± I nod slightly. It''s all true, from a certain point of view. ¡°And as for your now ex-girlfriend, she doesn¡¯t know what your missing. You¡¯re the kindest, gentlest person I know. You¡¯ll just need to find a girl who can appreciate that.¡± I know he¡¯s saying stuff to cheer me up, but it is working. He winks at me in his roguish way, ¡°in fact, let me find one for you. Give me the word and I¡¯ll find a girl worthy of you.¡± Perhaps I should take him up on that offer when I get back. I don¡¯t know where he¡¯ll pull such a girl from, but I am confident he will. He always had this way of getting things done. As it is, I straighten up and look back at the overbearing version of my father. I give him a snort of disdain and say, ¡°Your eldest son thinks I¡¯m valuable and that¡¯s more than enough for me. Like I¡¯m going to trust my own thoughts over the wise words of my elder brother? I¡¯m crazy, there¡¯s no way I would believe myself!¡± Dad looks back at me angrily, as if he can¡¯t believe what a fool I am. I add in, angry myself, ¡°Now, SHUT UP!¡± Dad looks like he is going to implode. And then a moment later, he does. It looks very odd, his face twisting in on itself and then consuming his whole body. I¡¯ve seen a lot of horrible things this last week, but his is pretty far up there. I do not enjoy seeing my dad implode like there is a miniature black hole inside of him, but I guess saying the phrase ¡°shut up¡± for the first time in my life was the ticket out of there because soon the blackness starts wavering. Before it disappears though I see Pesos emerge out of the darkness red eyes gleaming, its slick body burning lightly in a phantom black fire like the final boss in a video game. I don¡¯t know what the mind games were supposed to accomplish, but if they were trying to fold me over in despair, I am afraid it backfired on you. ¡°You should have come out in the beginning, Pesos.¡± I say, preparing myself for a fight, ¡°It would have saved us both the hassle.¡± Pesos snarls in response and starts circling around me like a predator. I try to bring up flare but I am disappointed that it''s still not working. Whatever is canceling my powers here appears to be also affecting Pesos because I am more than in range of her acid breath and she hasn¡¯t shot me with it yet. Good, that would have been awful to deal with. I¡¯ve killed her before with bare hands. Looks like I am going to have to do it again. I taunt her. ¡°You¡¯ve been a bad dog, Pesos! You¡¯ve tracked mud into the house again, haven''t you!¡± She stops at the words, her nostrils flaring furiously. ¡°Bring it, girl! Your tricks have failed and it''s just you and me now. And when I get back to earth, I¡¯m going to tell my brother what a bad dog you¡¯ve been!¡± Pesos loses it after that and comes charging at me with a howl. She is still fast and her claws are sharp; I know I¡¯m not going to be able to come out of this battle unscathed. I charge her too, meeting her in the middle with a tackle. She feels as heavy and real as ever. Greyhounds are big and fast with powerful muscles in their legs. But they are pretty fragile, besides their large thighs, their actual legs are quite spindly. To be honest, they are probably one of the worst dogs for pure fighting. We collide in the middle as I tackle her. I let her bite me good, getting my shoulder and neck area, clamping down on me, but I use my weight against her and drive her back onto the ground. My shoulder burns and I don¡¯t have my healing skills now, but I ignore the issue and press my weight against her right front leg. It snaps easily. She lets go of me and I fall back on my rear as she howls in pain. She backs off with a limp. I get up slowly. God, my shoulder hurts, but it feels like my arm is still usable. I¡¯m already covered in blood, so there won¡¯t be much of a difference there. Pesos is pissed and is snarling savagely at me. But I have her now, it was a mistake for her to take away both of our powers. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, girl.¡± I say as I move in on her disabled form. She could move away still if she wanted, but she hunkers down as I approach, her red eyes gleaming. ¡°I¡¯ll make sure to avenge you.¡± I end up strangling her. She struggles against me, clawing and tearing at me as much as possible, but I break her back legs and she is powerless against me. As she dies, I can feel such venom in her eyes it makes me shiver. Rest in peace, Pesos. Once she passes, the black void I am in dissipates and suddenly I am on the temple grounds again, surrounded by the undead, my respite from this battle gone. You know what? I would have appreciated a few more minutes in that blackness, before getting thrown back into this Hell. I check my stats quickly to see where I am at. The timer for Pesos has returned, even as her corpse turns into black wisps and fades away. I don¡¯t plan on being here when she returns, though. Next I check my mp. To my surprise, I see that it''s full. ¡­ Nice! Whatever the mage had intended to have happen in that fight, it''s backfired on him now. Pesos is gone and my mp is back. What was he expecting me to do when confronted with the mind magic? Lay down and die? The words of Luke come to me,¡°You''ve failed your highness. I am a jedi, like my father before me.¡± The two armored skeletons I had been running from are right in front of me now. They looked startled by my sudden return and I waste no time charging them and spending thirty mp each to cook them from the inside out with flare. Before they can react their armor flashes in a bright white light and dull thuds reverberate in their armor as their bones explode. The smoking husks fall down and I glare up at the temple steps, staring back at the mage and his guardian. I heal my shoulder in the meantime. The mage looks as furious as ever and he raises a hand and fires a black bolt at me. I flash him a grin and raise a barrier, watching the black spear smash into the unyielding wall, covering it in its darkness for a second before dissipating. It was an expensive show of force, but I think the intimidation factor is real. I¡¯ve got to let him know, I¡¯m coming for him next. Chapter 17 ~ Lots of Blood With those two obstacles now gone, I am free to make a rush toward the temple steps. Besides the useless small zombies I basically run over, the enemies I have left to deal with are mainly the three archers, a single armored skeleton, the guardian, and, of course, the mage. The mage¡¯s face is pinched and narrow and he throws another bolt at be which I am able to dodge. I hope he doesn¡¯t have too many of those left. As I slaughter my way up to the steps, I deflect several more arrows with my barriers. The last armored skeleton and the guardian stand their ground on top of the stairs, clearly waiting for me. Out of the corner of my eyes I see the mage, siding up next to his guardian and start talking quickly. I have no idea what he says, but after a moment, the guardian nods and the mage retreats back into his temple. ... Run and hide, buddy. Run and hide. Finally, after taking out another large mutant zombie, the last zombie in my direct path, I take by first footfall onto the white stone steps. Behind me is still a veritable army of zombies slowly coming at me and while I can cut through them easily, I don¡¯t think I can take them all. I need to do this quickly. Blood drips from me like rain onto the pure white below me, staining it with crimson splashes, like the canvas of a serial killer. Wow, I am just covered in blood. An arrow shoots out at me and I put up another barrier to deflect it before moving up the long stairs. In the middle of the steps, the armored skeleton and the guardian wait for me, keeping the high ground for themselves. The armored skeleton is decked with the usual armaments, full plated steel from head to toe with a large double handed sword. The guardian is in his full gear too, that freaking heavy shield and spear. Additionally, I also see that he added a few more items, some additional cloth around his arms and legs along with gloves. I frown, almost all of his exposed bone is covered up. Looks like I won''t be able to flare up his shield again, by adding a layer between it and his body he can negate the attack I had used on him last time. Stink. I have got to get through these two blokes before the horde of zombies catches up behind me. It doesn''t help having the archers continue to do their best to puncture lots of holes in me. Without stopping I charge up to the armored skeleton and put up two quick barriers, a small block set right in front of his hands and a long thin barrier between him and the guardian, the soft light screens appearing out of thin air. As planned, the guardian hesitates a moment at the new sight before slamming at it with its spear, shattering the projection. But that few seconds of distraction was all I needed as the block barrier momentarily impedes the armored skeleton¡¯s ability to raise its hands. I skirt around to the opposite side and slam an edged dagger into the side of the defenseless helmet. It pierces easily, but the success comes with a price. Two arrow shafts plunge their way into my exposed back, knocking me and the, now, shell of armor forward. I knew there would need to be a sacrifice for this recklessness, I am already down to a sixth of my mp and now I have poison in my body along with an increasing infection. Also, I¡¯m pretty sure one of my lungs has been punctured judging by the pain and new difficulty in breathing. Blast, I can¡¯t heal my wounds until the arrows are pulled and I can¡¯t pull them while facing down an irate guardian. I¡¯ll just have to endure. The guardian stares in apparent shock at the sudden loss of his partner for a moment before giving out a blood curdling roar. He takes his shield off and for a second I think he¡¯s going to throw it at me, but instead he tosses it aside. It lands with a heavy clunk. Another archer not 10 yards back from the guardian shoots another arrow and I am forced to tuck and roll, clumsily falling down a few steps to avoid it along with a sharp thrust of the spear. My back flares angrily at the movement, and I am tempted to wretch the arrows out then and there, heedless of the cost. But at 50 mp, I don''t have the resources to heal everything and still be expected to fight this bastard. I get up quickly, but this guardian is faster than anything else here and he is on me. I block his powerful strike by holding onto my dagger with two hands and shoving it aside. The beast still hits like a train. I quickly cast identify on him.
Skeleton Guardian: level 17
Great, he¡¯s also gained some levels. Beneath the helmet, the two soulless eye sockets stare me down and he continues his fast paced strikes. Once I secure my footing again I cast edge onto my dagger and continue to parry the strikes from the guardian. At each blow a bright light flashes with a shower of sparks and after five hits I am rewarded with the tip of the spear getting shaved off. Two more strikes later the whole metal tip is sheared away and the guardian stares dumbly for a brief second at his broken staff. I give the guardian a fierce grin. Two arrows come shooting at me but I am able to duck down to avoid them, before eyeing the culprits. They are still too far away. I feel a tugging on my heel and I turn quickly to see three zombies hot on my tail. I kick the foremost one and am pleased to see him fall backwards onto his friends. I face forward again; the guardian hightailing it up the stairs. Damn him. With a growl, I give chase. I see the doors to the temple open again and out comes the pale faced mage , now carrying another, shiny azure, spear in hand. His eyes bulge when he sees me running up at him and he quickly points his finger at me and I know what''s coming. I halt and hastily cast barrier again. My mp is in running dangerously low though so I cast the least costly barrier possible for 20 mp. It¡¯s just in time as the black projectile splashes against it for the briefest of moments before the barrier shatters. A wave of cold black air mists through me and I feel a shiver run through my body. I don¡¯t know what effects that will have on me, but I don¡¯t have time to investigate. The guardian is almost at the door and I see that mage reaching out to hand the new spear to his pet. I don¡¯t like the look of that spear so I cast identify on it.
???
That¡¯s not a good sign, that screams trump card if ever there was one. Another arrow hits me in the back and I stagger forward. I try to ignore it and rush onward. I take my dagger in hand and flare it before throwing it as fast as I can at the mage, his body poking halfway out the door. My aim was off, but the mage flinches and ducks nonetheless, the spear wavering in his outstretched hand. I then pull out my last dagger and do the same, this time chucking it at the guardian, desperately trying to delay them. The guardian chooses to ignore it but my aim was pretty good this time, striking the outstretched forearm and cutting the cloth there, nicking the bone underneath. I hear a crack and I see the guardian clutch at his arm. I¡¯m not sure, but I think I broke it. The mage is panicking now and he steps out a little further from the safety of his door in an effort to give his spear to his now suffering guardian, shouting angrily at it all the while. The guardian does an admirable job of ignoring his wounded right arm and takes up the new spear with his left. As he touches it, the spear glimmers for a second before turning bone white, the tip as black as night. It lasts for a moment in time before I tackle him. With his right arm crippled and remaining arm positioned wrongly from his attempt to get the spear, he is left defenseless against me as I now lay on top of him. I flare my left fist and punch him in the face before he has a chance to use his superior strength against me. His skull shatters, scraping my hand, but that¡¯s it. That the end of our guardian. ... It¡¯s also the last of my mp as I am now left with 3. ... And my body hurts like hell with four barbed arrows in my back spreading their poison. ... That¡¯s for burning down my house, you prick. At least I got my revenge. I sigh and sit up. I see the archers release their arrows at me again and I pull the leather gear of the skeleton up to block them. They thud heavily into the bone corpse. Once blocked I look up and see the approaching horde, mere yards away now. Then I turn to the mage next to me who is a single spell or quick thrust of that unknown spear away from ending my life for good. I only see a fluttering of a cloak for a second before it disappears into the temple. ¡­ ... So, he¡¯s a coward, eh? I can work with that. Catching the closing door with a foot, I move my body as fast as my screaming muscles will allow. I grab one of my dropped daggers and slip in through the door, closing it carefully behind me. I hear a satisfying latch lock into place once it closes. I¡¯m going to have to trust that that will prevent the hoard of zombies from getting in. Now closed, the harsh noise from the outside is almost completely blocked. Inside is peaceful, with comforting dim yellow lamps hanging from the ceiling and dark brown walls and smooth cool stone beneath me. The change is dizzying. And best of all, the mage isn¡¯t standing there ready to blast me, or a number of magical stone gargoyles. I can hear his feet pittering along the stone floor, getting softer and softer. Nice. I could use another break. With the lull in fighting I feel suddenly exhausted, and I slump down to the floor on the spot. I can feel the infection and poison starting to seize my limbs, but at my regen rate, I should be able to cleanse it before it becomes fatal. I think I¡¯ll just sit here and marvel at my good fortune until then.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. If not for that fight with Pesos restoring my mp, I would not have had nearly enough to last to this point. I¡¯m still not sure what that was supposed to be, but it was clearly some spell that the mage had given her. Was it supposed to draw me into despair for an easy kill by Pesos? Seeing my Dad appear was, indeed, shocking, but if I had the power of illusion, I could have come up with much better scenarios to get me to die. Maybe it''s like the move horn-drill in pokemon. Sure it''s a one shot kill, but it has low accuracy and doesn¡¯t work against enemies with a higher speed stat. I don¡¯t know. He would have been better off just letting Pesos do her thing. And also, the mage leaving during my fight with the guardian and armored skeleton, he should have stayed and provided backup for them instead of getting that spear. Did he expect them to last longer than they did? I did get thing going pretty quickly, he seems to be somebody who is not good at making quick decisions. And lastly, if he has just realized how empty I was at the end there he could have easily killed me, instead he panicked and fled. In fact, he could return at any moment now and finish me off. I guess he isn¡¯t privy to my mp level, so he wouldn¡¯t know. From his perspective, if he panicked too much, it would feel like the world was falling around him, his best pieces slayed easily to before me. Good, let him think that way. The fight was his to win and I think he blew it. Its a position my favorite football team had been in many times before. His loss is my gain. I can hear dull pounding on the door behind me, but its not too concerning, I just keep a close eye on the latch to make sure its not moving. Just as my vision is starting to go from the poison I use some of my regenerated mp to cleanse myself. Feeling the warmth and sudden burst of energy as paralysis leaves my limbs, I debate whether I should wait to heal my arrow wounds or not, but ultimately decide against it. The cost of healing and replacing whole chunks of flesh that would be ripped out by the barbed arrows will easily be over 100 mp. The mage may be a coward, but I doubt he is trembling under his bed right now. He is surely brewing trouble and I can¡¯t afford to wait for him to finish it. Instead, I break off the shaft of the arrows and leave the heads in, using heal to close the wounds only. Leaving those in is a bad idea, but for a temporary measure it should be fine. I learned already that I can use cleanse to force the heads out, it''s just extremely painful doing so, especially once the wound is closed. With a sigh and groan I get up. It¡¯s not over yet, not by a long shot. After a small stretch, careful not to worsen my arrows, I head down the way I heard the mage escape to. It''s probably a bad idea to run here, so I make a cautious haste instead. I¡¯m not sure who¡¯s side time is on. The temple is huge, with large and many rooms, vaulted ceilings, and many offshooting passageways that looking tempting in a labyrinthian sort of way. Large windows let in copious amount of the dim green sun. But the furniture here is lacking, as if it''s just a big empty house just built and waiting for some inhabitants. It gives off a sense of being unfinished, a work in progress, per se. Whatever the finished product is supposed to be, this temple and this whole place, it¡¯s clearly meant for something big. The palace could easily fit a hundred residents and I think it is still supposed to grow. I don''t want to know what kind of sickos would want to live here. The little yellow lamps dimly lit almost the entirety of the place and I think I am going in the correct direction, but I am not sure. It¡¯s not like there is a trail of blood I can follow. Soon, I am met with a spiral staircase leading down. There appear to be fewer lamps down there and beyond the first curve I can''t see any light. I look around the large atrium I am in, two large hallways go right and left from here as potential destinations for our mage, but my gut is telling me he is down there. With a grunt I reach up and grab one of the magical lamps off the wall. It holds on for a second but with an efforted tug, it comes free. It also loses its light. With a grimace, I toss the junk aside and head down the stairwell. I come to the dark shadows, and its all black down there as none of the lamps are lit. It''s also about ten degrees cooler and I shiver as I descend. I cast flare on my hand for a few seconds, letting the bright light sting my eyes and illuminate the expanse. It feels like an abandoned house with the power turned off. The hallways and rooms are just the same as upstairs but with no windows. The corners of the room are difficult to make out, but there is no furniture in here either. I let the flare die away and give the place one more scan before preparing to head back upstairs. In the darkness, I see a flickering blue light reflecting off the smooth grey stones from a room around the corner and down a hall, barely perceptible even in the darkness. Carefully, I make my way around the edges of the hallway, drawing closer to the source of light. I pass by several dark holes in the wall from where more rooms are located and I pray to God that nothing jumps out of that blackness to eat me alive. Eventually, I make it to the edge of the doorway where the blue light is emanating from and I peek into it. There¡¯s the mage, looks like I picked correctly. He look sweaty and pale, his hands moving furiously over an interphase that looks curiously like Tony Stark''s holographic controls. The room itself is completely different from the rest of the palace, its completely filled with tons of interesting stuff I don¡¯t recognize. I suppose there are magical instruments, generators, or whatever, but the place is stuffed like a mini-storage. In a different setting, I''d start casting identify on everything. I move in closer to get a better view, but despite my attempted stealth the mage notices me and looks up. His eyes bulge again and I see sweat dripping down his face despite the cold here. Rather than starting to fire his black bolts at me, he gets back to his work, his hands going faster than ever. I see that spear of his by his side. Something tells me I don¡¯t want him to finish his project. I move in as quickly as possible, scrambling over or around the pieces of junk lying about the place. Before I can make it far he appears to finish whatever it is he was working one because he ends with a dramatic flourish and steps back, taking up and clutching the spear while staring at me wide eyed. I am pleased to see he is not suddenly filled with a heavy relief and confidence, so I press forward. Next to the mage another bright light flashes and next thing I know, the guardian skeleton is standing there, hale and strong, spear, shield, the whole caboodle. In a quick motion, the mage hands over the dangerous looking spear to the new skeleton, replacing the wooden iron tipped one the guardian was summoned with. He then points his hand and me and shouts hoarsely, his voice echoing loudly in the silent basement. Dang, I thought I defeated this guy already. He can summon this bastard again? I cast identify on him as we move closer to each other.
Skeleton Guardian: level 5
Niiiice, only a level 5? I don¡¯t care what that spear does, I think I can still take him. I pull out my dagger and light it with edge. Does this guardian retain its memories? I think that¡¯s a yes because the next moment he lets out an eardrum splitting roar and tosses aside it''s shield again before charging me. I think I have maxed out my animosity with this guy. We meet each other again for battle. He won the first one, I won the second. This rubber match will decide all. Before we clash I see the mage letting loose a black spell at me again. It would be nice if I could hit the spell away with my edged dagger, but I can hardly hit baseballs so I don¡¯t even bother. I am forced to duck behind a really odd device and let the bolt fly over me, but his timing was impeccable. Before I can stand up the skeleton is over me, jabbing at me with his new bone white spear. I parry the blasted attacks from my disadvantageous position and am thankful his level was lowered to 5. His hits are much weaker; I would not have been able to withstand this if he was still level 17. I keep my edge on my dagger, hoping to whittle away at his spear down like last time, but as the attacks keep coming I realize that despite the mighty sparks that fly every strike, his spear is not getting damaged. In fact, I can feel the dagger starting to lose integrity at each hit. Blast, there goes that plan. I scoot backwards, trying to get away from the menacing skeleton, bumping up against the random equipment lying around. I can¡¯t tell where the mage is, but he is surely positioning himself in order to get a better shot at me. Suddenly, I feel my back up against a wall and realize there''s nowhere else for me to withdraw to. I desperately parry a few more times before seeing the mage appear to the side, flanking me. Blast, it''s time for plan B, and I hate plan B. I drop the dagger and accept the next thrust coming at me, like accepting a big hug. The blow is hard, it was aimed for my heart but I divert it slightly and it hits me right below it. It cracks and then shatters my rib cage, and then punctures my liver ( I think its my liver, I¡¯ve never taken an anatomy course) before hitting the back of my ribcage and lodging itself there between my ribs. It hurts like Hell and I nearly black out. Instead, I hold onto it and and force flare to cover the entirety of the spear. Unlike from when the guardian was at the steps, I noticed this newly summoned skeleton is not wearing gloves. I feel the spear itself resist my attempt for a split second, something I haven¡¯t experienced before, before cooperating and allowing my golden light to shoot up and disintegrate the hands and arms of the skeleton. The skill knocks him back, his bones fragments raining upon the two of us. From the side I hear a frenzied shriek and I try to turn away before a black bolt hits my left shoulder, my arm and part of may neck instantly falling useless. Suddenly, I can¡¯t keep my head up straight and it flops to the side, like I am staring at a sideways painting. I panic for a moment before I realize I can still breathe, my pipes have not collapsed yet. As quick as I can, I pull out the spear stubbornly lodged in my ribcage along with some of my innards and more blood than is healthy to donate, and heal and close it up as fast as possible. Then I stand up and face the mage, my head flopped to the side like a deranged madman. With another unintelligible shrieks he shoots two more black spells at me before turning and running back again. I duck away from them both before starting to move at him but for good measure I put an edge on my new spear that was gifted to me and smash the guardian¡¯s face in for the second time today. Good. Now stay down. I hurry the mage before he can concoct another troublesome minion, trying hard to keep my head straight. It is incredibly uncomfortable and my right neck muscles is starting to really hurt. Also, this spear. I like this spear. I noticed that as soon as I took it it changed forms from that bone white coloring to a more wood like texture and color. It¡¯s also not nearly as heavy as the shield or swords from before, I can carry it easily. It feels high class. I think I am going to keep it. Again, the mage is pretty short and I am able to catch up to him right when he appears to make a grab for the discarded spear from earlier. He takes it and spins around to me quickly, his arms quivering either from the weight, anger, or fear, I am not sure. As he faces me I can see his face red and flushed, his eyes also bloodshot. I can tell he has no idea what to do with the spear, he probably has less experience with it than I have. The weapon is taller than he is. As soon as I close in on him he starts shouting at me again. I slow up as I come into dueling range, but he doesn¡¯t let up, spittle flying from his mouth as he does his damndest to dour me with words. I just give him a cold glare and move in slowly. He could be giving me a profound speech on the injustice of the world for all I know. I don¡¯t even care, it¡¯s clear he¡¯s the one who¡¯s been trying to kill me for the last week. He starts backing up as I move closer and he fires another black bolt at me which I deflect easily with a barrier. I cast identify on him when I step closer.
Kronalager Dungeon Manager (Artificial) Undead Mage: (Level 10)
A feeling of unease sweeps through me when I realize this guy has a name. I wish I hadn''t looked. He fires one more bolt at me which I block again before he drops his hand and looks at me with a twisted face. I think he is out of juice. In my next step he lets out a strangled yell, lifting his spear and blindly rushing at me. I edge my spear, feeling the ease at which it covers it all the way to the tip, and slice up, cutting his shaft in half like a hot knife through butter. He is still charging at me though, and I swing the spear back down, slicing the mage in half too, just as easily. His war cry is cut abruptly in a wet squelching sound. I stare at the mass of organic flesh of the floor that just moments ago was a living breathing person, intent on killing me. I look around the suddenly silent room, the stench from the corpse barely noticeable to me. All I hear is the dripping of blood, the spear still tightly grasped in my hands. ¡­ ... Man, I could really use a cutscene now. Chapter 18 ~ No Rest for the Weary I admit I was pretty upset that I wasn¡¯t immediately spirited away from this place after I defeated the ¡°boss¡±. At least I didn¡¯t get swept away to an even harder level, so I should count my blessings. Still, I barely survived the next hour as my mp struggled to keep up with the expenditures of healing my body. Much less half of my neck dissolving into a toxic biomass, I still had barbed arrowheads stuck inside my body. All these things took time and carefully triage to make sure I didn¡¯t die at the moment of my glory. Some glory it was. Not. While the death of the mage surely ended my hardship here, the bloody, bloody, and ordorouse corpse of the guy was hard to look at. Sure, I have had more than my fair share of gorey messes this last week, but those were categorized in my brain as ¡°not really real¡±. Do intelligent spawns count as people? I think not, beside I need some sort of mental protections to keep myself sane here. If I have to pretend everything here is fake to do that, than so be it. But the mage, unlike everything else here, I felt was a real person. His dead body only yards away from the exotic console I am sitting on, agrees with me. I think I have finally killed my first person. Somehow, I don¡¯t feel like he is going to respawn. I don¡¯t regret killing the miserable son of a bitch, it was clearly a him or me senario, right up to the last moment. Plus, it was war. ¡­ I just wish I could get out of here. During the hour it took to bring myself up to a stable condition I did my best to ignore the pain by inspecting the stink out of anything within reach. I must say, this inspecting thing is supremely unhelpful.
Instance Setting: Managerial Equipment
Basically, everything said this, giving me no idea what any of this stuff actually did. Even worse, the blasted consoles themselves, even that holographic thing, were all in a foreign language. The stupid system wouldn¡¯t translate it for me and after button mashing hard on the flickering lights the holographic display froze up like a windows xp computer. Nothing makes me more frustrated than technology not working. Rage, rage against the machines. Despite my best ignorant efforts, I wasn¡¯t able to ¡°turn off¡± the dungeon. At least a minimap of sorts was left open by the mage before he met his timely demise. While the symbols on the blasted thing made no sense and I couldn¡¯t manipulate it much it seemed to be showing me the area around the temple. Small characters were floating randomly in an agitated frenzy around what I believe to be the Temple. Looks like killing the boss didn¡¯t unsummon all of his creations like I had hoped. After a quick look, it appeared nothing was coming inside the building since I locked the door shut. Good. My inspections didn¡¯t fail me completely though. In a nearby room I was able to locate the mage¡¯s little lair. Inside was a weird bed thing, and small tables, and a stash of food and water. I suppose the Mage was a real organic creature that needed to eat, thank you, thank you, thank you. Oh God, yes. After a quick cleansing I found out the material delight of dry crispy wafers. I munched those vanilla wafers like a starving man, which I guess I nearly was. There were cases and cases of this stuff inside this pantry, like the mage was planning on being here for a long while. I would think the wafers would get old fast, but I am not complaining. This stuff is literally like manna from heaven. For the first time in days, I gorged myself. Then I threw it all up. I guess I should have taken it slower. Once I ate my fill again, much more responsibly this time, I headed back to the control room and gave a stink eye to all the fangled equipment there. The body of the mage was still lying where I had slain it, in a pool of its own blood and guts. Not pleasant. Gritting my teeth, I decided to get it out of my sight and move it away. It was gross but I felt it was needed to be done. That spear I had did a real number on the body, practically splitting it in two. Its an awesome spear, but if I actually had any skill in wielding it, I probably could have dealt with the problem more effectively. Looking over at the mini-map displayed I see a change happening around the temple. The characters are moving less sporadically now, less chaos and more order. Additional enemies are coming into view too, if I had to guess I would say the roving bands are returning. That¡¯s probably not a good sign. Despite everything, if they storm this place, they could easily overwhelm me. I am kinda trapped in here. If I can¡¯t figure out how to end this instance, I am going to have a hard time exiting this place. Not that I am sure that I want to. This place is conspicuously missing the bacteria, mushrooms, insects, and other horrors that gave me hell for the last week or so. While I¡¯ve been fighting for survival, this chum has been living the high life in here. That bastard. I drag the corpse away, wondering if I should bury the mage. The rooms here are uncompleted, many with dirt floors still, so I could dig a hole if I wanted. The thought of leaving a real person¡¯s body out in the open, human or not, enemy or not, just feels wrong. Also, its an ugly fixture inside my new temple, I¡¯d like to bury it just to get rid of it. I had already tried to cleanse the body away, like I could do to a zombie or skeleton, but it didn¡¯t work. It just cleaned him up a bit. Geeze, I could get a job at a funeral home, cleaning up the dead bodies for viewing. This mage looks perfect, except for the slice bisecting him. Moving through the basement, I see room after room, unlit, unfinished, but massive. What was the mage trying to accomplish? What was he building this temple for? Surely not for just him alone and surely not for the zombies outside. Despite the mage¡¯s taste for the disgusting and awful bio-weapons outside, the inside of this place is clean and dignified. Like a noble palace. We are just missing the rows of paintings lining the walls ¡­ Was he a servant, preparing the way? Who was he building this place for? And how do I fit in? I ended up not burying the guy, I¡¯ll get back to that later. It¡¯s not like I am personally in danger from disease. I make it back to the control room, my questions unanswered. I likely killed the only person who could enlighten me, assuming we could even understand each other. Time to take another stab at the holographic controls to try to figure a way out of here. I¡¯m not about to give up. I take a quick look at the mini map. ¡­ Blast! Imperial troops have entered the base! I squint closer, trying to overcome my nearsightedness to try to make out what is happening. ¡­ Crap, while it looks like the zombies are somehow forbidden from entering the temple, it looks like no such restriction has been placed on the skeletons. I suppose that makes sense, nobody wants zombie gore messing up the pristine halls. If I am reading this thing correctly, it looks like about twenty skeletons have broken in and are heading my way. Stink, I wish I had more time. Looks like I am going to have to do this the hard way. Taking my new spear, I lite it with edge and go about smashing every piece of equipment in the room. Most shatter, giving me an odd sense of satisfaction, but my work is ineffective. Even the cool holographic board gets no mercy as I smash it up, feeling a nice tingling sensation as the lights flicker and die. But the instance dungeon is still running strong. I leave the mini-map last for obvious reasons. I step up to it. The skeletons are coming down the stairs now. Curse them, they are staying together, looks like several archers and soldiers but mostly the armored types. If they are smart, they would just form a wall of swords to corner me while their archers pick me off as best as they can. I don¡¯t have unlimited mp. I finally smash up the mini-map, but nothing happens except the loss of my last light. The whole basement falls into darkness. God damn it, I hope I just didn¡¯t screw myself. I defeated the boss, why do I have to go through this? Shouldn¡¯t the minions have all given up? Shouldn¡¯t this gladiator match have ended? Where are my victor spoils? I light my hand up with flare and move on. There must be something else here. I run down the hallways, away from the encroaching army who have no problem working in the dark. As I pass the dark doors, I check room after hollow room. All open spaces, no furniture or corners, no good place where I could make a stand to hold them off. Blast! Eventually, I come to the end of the rooms, there really is nothing left down here. The mage wasn¡¯t anywhere close to finishing his work. Then I spot it, I almost missed it because of the dark. A small door in the ground, like a cellar beneath a house, lays at the end of the last hallway. I only notice it because the wooden door stands apart from the rest of the dirt floor. I drop down and pull the handle up, the hinges creaking loudly. Geeze, something needs an oiling. If the skeletons didn¡¯t know where I was before, they surely know now. I stick my flared hand into it quickly and it seems tall enough to stand in with nothing obviously threatening. I take a look around and hear the marching skeletons drawing near. Not wasting another second I drop down my spear then fall in after it.Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. The fall was only about eight feet, but the floor was hard stone again, not soft dirt and in the blackness I misjudged the depth and crashed clumsily to the floor, smashing my right arm and breaking it. I resisted the urge to howl in pain but fixed myself up soon after. Looking around, no traps are springing at me, which is good, but I look up and see the door is still open. Its too high for me to try to close it too. ¡­ Heck with that, I don¡¯t know if I can even climb out of here! I don¡¯t think I can jump up that high! ¡­ Whatever, I¡¯ll solve that problem when I get to it. For now, I can bottleneck the skeletons as they come down. Maybe I can climb up on their corpses when it¡¯s over. With a sigh, I turn around, inspecting the room. The walls are all stone as well, but a very different style from the temple above. Like and older wing of a building after extensive remodeling. It¡¯s rather small too, only about ten feet in width and length. Which makes it pretty easy to spot the floating object resting dead center. I cast identify.
Instance Core
An evil grin spreads across my face. Bingo! Without hesitation I pick up my spear and cast edge on it. The golden flames cover the tip of the spear and with a mighty (hopefully) yell, I swing as hard as I can at the black marble, determined to end this charade once and for all. To my shock, literally and figuratively, my attack does no damage as It feels like I just struck a concrete wall. My arms ache and shiver at the blow. This is why I hated playing baseball. Damn! That was supposed to work! I move closer to the core and take a few probing swings at it and find that, despite the blasted thing floating in midair, it behaves like a solid fixture. I hear clanking above me so I am forced to turn my attention away. A moment later I see a soldier drop down, only to get chopped in half by me and my spear a second later. Dang, did I tell you how much I love this thing? It takes another moment before another one drops down, this time an armored type. It fares none better as I slice through the steel like butter. Heh, heh, heh, heh, heh. I¡¯ll have to thank that mage, if he ever does respawn, for gifting me such a great weapon. He should had given it to his guardian much sooner. I wait for the next victim to drop down but none more appear. I can still hear them up above, shuffling around but they aren¡¯t moving in on me. Perhaps they realize it won¡¯t work? I guess they are smarter than I gave them credit for. What can they do, anyway? I mean, besides wait me out? ¡­ Crap, they can do that. I didn¡¯t bring much with me down here. I could last a few days, I guess, but if they just park themselves up there for a week I am done for. I wait for a few more minutes but nothing else happens. The noises have died down, but I am pretty sure they are up there. Stink! Crap! There is nothing else for it, I warily return my attention to the giant marble resting a few feet from me. Looks like this is my only ticket out of here. A few more taps with my spear produce nothing more and casting identify on it just makes me angry at the continued lack of information. Is this thing indestructible? How does it work? ¡­ I see its all black and misty, with wisps coming off it like the dark magic around Pesos. Since it appears to be what is powering this place, it makes sense that it''s filled with black magic, literally. Maybe I can cleanse it? With some trepidation, I cast a look behind me to make sure the skeletons aren¡¯t planning any funny business before reaching out with my cleansing hand. The moment my hand makes contact with it, I feel like I have made a terrible mistake. Rather than my cleansing light wiping away the darkness, the black smokes consume it and then starts traveling up my hand and onto my arm. With a yelp I try to pull away, but my hand is stuck there by a powerful force. For every second that passes, more mist pumps out of the core, eating up my arm. Oh my God, I do not want to go this way! Is it going to eat me and turn me into a lich or something!? I pump as much mp into cleanse as I can in my panicked state before switching to flare. My spear is gripped in an awkward way by my left hand so I can¡¯t just slice my arm off with it at the rate the blackness is traveling. I am also thinking about cutting off my arm with a barrier, but I have no idea if that could work. ¡­ At least the mist doesn¡¯t hurt at all. ¡­ Finally, the flare seems to work as it stops the mist before it can reach my torso. I give myself a moment to calm myself at the equilibrium, before I start pushing my way back into my arm. Its works slowly, the black mist receding before my most powerful skill, but the mp I am consuming is unsustainable. I hope the skeletons don¡¯t take advantage of this moment of vulnerability. Flare eventually clears up my whole arm and hand again, forcing the black mist away, but the sphere resists my attempts to attack it with flare and, despite my efforts, I still can¡¯t seem to take my hand away. I am burning mp just keeping the mist at bay. Going over my options quickly, I try to cast barrier between the core and my hand, but nothin¡¯ doin¡¯. I adjust the spear in my left hand and prepare to cut my right hand off with the blade, but I want to try one more thing. I switch back the cleanse and focus as best as I can on the core. I still need to beat this thing to get out of here. With my renewed and focused effort, I feel the mist slowly give way to my cleansing, smooth white glass appearing around my hand where the core was. I keep a close eye on my dropping mp, making sure I don¡¯t screw myself over. As the core get purified I notice small tremors in the stone floor. Subtle at first, but as more and more of the core gets turned white the tremors turn into shaking and dirt and stone start falling from the ceiling around me. I think that¡¯s a good sign? I look around warily. At the loss of focus, the mist starts taking back territory. Blast, this is difficult! I refocus on the core but I feel I am winning. I can feel sweat appearing on my brow from the effort but I also notice that the temperature is rising in here. God, I hope this marble doesn¡¯t explode. Once I have cleansed over half of the core I feel its resistance lesson, as if I have just passed the top of the hill. I let out a sigh of relief because during those last few seconds at peak my rate of mp consumption would not have been enough to finish the core off. The shaking has only increased though, if my hypothesis is correct, the instance should be starting to fail. Oh, God, please take me home. The skeletons use this opportunity to drop down though, two of them getting down quickly. With a curse I pull my spear around with my left hand and awkwardly try to fend them off while I finish my business. Can''t they give me a moment of peace? I am down below fifty mp by the time the core is completely cleansed. The heat kicked out by the thing in the last few moments practically scalded my arm. There are three skeletons down here with me now, I¡¯ve only managed to finish off one in the meantime. With a chilling scream, the core shrivels up and and turns into a small white rock that I have to catch before it drops to the floor. As soon as it is gone, I hear a sound like a rushing wind sweep through the dungeon. Now free from the glue of the stone I step back to get some space and slip the stone quickly into a pocket. I now use both hands to fend off the skeletons. I don¡¯t have to do it for long as soon the dungeon itself groans like a creaking tree in a storm. The wind intensifies and I have to cover my eyes to protect them, swinging my spear wildly to fend off the untroubled skeletons. Damn them! Suddenly, the wind stops and I feel weightless. I open my eyes and see that I am slowly lifted off the floor. Stunned, I look up to see the three skeletons are also floating, like gravity just shut down. The four of us float absurdly, the three of them glaring at me in impotence. There is nothing but silence and the flickering light of my skills for a moment of time. What the hell is happening?? A moment later, gravity returns with a vengeance and we are slammed to the ground. I feel dizzy from the impact before I heal as fast as possible and launch myself at the still dazed skeletons before they can regroup. I finish off two quickly before the third is able to right itself. The bastard gets a good sword thrust at me, slicing my right side well before I lop his head off. With the three gone I slide to the ground, once more having exhausted my mp. I extinguish my edge skill, plunging myself into darkness to conserve mana. I am dangerously low now and will have to wait a few minutes before I heal the slice to my side. I hold my hand to it to stop the flow as blood as much as possible and close my eyes and rest. Hopefully the rest of the skeletons won¡¯t jump down now. I wait a few minutes, my ears straining for noise, but I can only hear a low intermittent roaring sound I can¡¯t quite place. No skeletons. ¡­ ... Did it work? I can still feel the cold stone beneath me, so I guess not. Several minutes later I heal my side and open my eyes, fighting off sleep. After a few seconds of my eyes adjusting I can see a dim blue light filtering down from the cellar door. I crawl under it and look up only to have my breath taken away. Stars. Stars in a backdrop of a clear night. The night of the city as the stars are not too clear. The stars at my home. Oh my God, am I home? Did it work? I scramble up to get a closer look and i recognize the little roarings as the sound of cars zooming down the highway. I jump up as high as I can, but I can¡¯t catch the edge of the cellar door. Breathing quickly, I drag over an armored skeleton and step on it. I throw my spear up through the hole and then jump up too, grasping at the edge. Then I slip and fall back, crashing onto the floor. I am delayed, but undeterred. Two more attempts later I am secure, clutching the edge and struggling to pull myself up. It¡¯s not easy, I was bad at pull ups before and even worse now. I kick my legs instinctively for grip, but there is nothing there. With a loud grunt I haul myself up and lay on my back, gasping for breath but looking up at the stars, the beautiful, beautiful stars. Closing my eyes I can feel a cool crisp breeze, feeling nice now that I am out of the oven. The air is fresh, as fresh as city air can be. I made it, I can¡¯t believe it. I cover my face with my hand as I fight back tears. I can cry later. After a few moments I open my eyes. To my left I see the insulation of my attic not feet away. Confused, I sit up and look around more clearly. ¡­ Looks like the space immediately around me got pulled to fill in the void left by my room disappearing? I am currently laying level with the floor of my attic, the side of it sliced cleanly like a laser beam went to town on it. The stone cellar that came back with me didn¡¯t fill the space my room had occupied completely, I can see gaps into my home. I don¡¯t even care. I am back, that¡¯s all that matters. Next to my house I hear the traffic of a highway at night just on the other side of the trees. I close my eyes and enjoy it, the sweet sound of home. I hear an unnatural rustling noise and I look toward the disturbance. Underneath the glow of a streetlight on my peaceful boulevard I see the white gleam of a skeleton soldier. We stare at each other for a second before an armored one comes up next to it. Then, like a flock of turkeys, the rest of the bunch come walking by, only a few of them giving me a glance before the pack moves away, into the woods of the nature preserve next to my house. A few seconds later they are out of sight. ¡­ Dang, looks like I brought some company home with me. I like my neighbors and I don¡¯t want to see any of them get killed by those murder machines. With a sigh I sit up and drop down from the edge of the vault onto my soft grassy yard. I cast a flare on my hand to find my spear. My hands light up in the familiar unearthly glow as I grab my weapon and look out at the direction of the retreating skeletons. As they say, no rest for the weary. Chapter 19 ~ Is that what I think it is? Back when I was still in purgatory I had created a nice list of the things I would do first if I ever returned home. I had given it tons of thought, revised it countless times, and fantasized for hours on the possibilities. I could have written a doctoral thesis given how much time I put into it. The resulting list was thus:
  1. Stuff my face with whatever food was left in the refrigerator. My hazy memory told me there was still some servings of spaghetti in there and the thought of such dining was heart wrenching.
  2. Take a long hot shower. While I have been able to cleanse myself I haven¡¯t been able to actually clean myself. Whatever this grey dust stuff was that most substances turned into when cleansed, I was caked in it. I doubt I still looked human.
  3. Wear clean clothing. I have been forced to wear the same clothes for the last week and they can be barely called clothes anymore. However, all my clothes got burned up in my room so I¡¯ll have to adjust my definition of clean and grab from the yet to be washed pile of laundry downstairs.
  4. Call my parents and tell them how much I loved them. To be fair, this one was on the top of my list for a while until I realized I no longer had a phone. As it was also destroyed in the fire I wasn¡¯t quite sure how I¡¯d call them up but I was sure I would find a way.
As it is, I haven¡¯t been able to accomplish any of these tasks in the first 5 hours of my return and it really pisses me off. What are those blasted skeletons thinking? They should be just attacking me on sight, not running away. Has their programming or whatever gone haywire? What do they hope to accomplish in this world, my world? In all my experience with the skeletons, they have never run from me. The strangeness of tha reverse situation pulls at me a little. Now it is me pursuing them to the death in an unfamiliar new world. I admit, I really like that. The nature preserve they retreated to is not a park and it¡¯s not meant to be traversed by people. As such, there is only a single path, cutting through the middle of it, with dense forest on either side. One of the reasons I liked this house so much when I bought it was the fact that, although I am still within the city I have a lot of wildlife around me. Deer and flocks of turkeys are common sighting around my house. And squirrels, lots of squirrels. Now, I regret the choice, chasing after the skeletons has proved to be extremely irritating, especially when I fear that a single one getting loose could mean the death somebody, anybody, any poor sap they might run across. Especially especially when they can see perfectly in the dark and I can¡¯t. As soon as I saw them move out into the woods, I bounded after them. I didn¡¯t want to risk taking the time to search for a flashlight or anything, I needed to exterminate them while I had them in my sight. Besides, I don¡¯t think I even own a flashlight. Like so many things I am noticing now, my phone was my flashlight. In the first few minutes I was able to take out five of their group. They were running away, unorganized and clumped together, moving down the single path available in the preserve. It was easy to catch up to them, other than the stray branch wiping across my face, that is. They tried to stand and put up a fight with me at first, but with the narrow way and their squad out of a formation, they were easy pickings. While there, I counted about fifteen of their kind in the dark, moving and blending in with the shadows. Now down to ten. Bleach white bones and sliced armor litter the forest floor. I wondered what the neighbors would think of the noise of our clashes, if any had awoken. The preserve isn''t that big. When the fifth skeleton was destroyed an arrow eventually got me, striking me in the chest and burrowing deep. It must have been point blank and I stumbled back at the blow, cursing at the lack of light. Instead of pouncing on me though, the skeletons ran. Each in a different direction. That action surprised me. The skeletons had never behaved like that, ever. They ignored the path and pushed through the foliage and brambles, each seeking their own path How dare they make this so difficult for me, don¡¯t they know it¡¯s over? They¡¯ll never be allowed to exist in this world, if not me, then the goddamn national guard will wipe you out. I suppose that was what the mage must have thought about me... After pulling out the poisoned barb (covering the ground in my blood, I hope that doesn¡¯t come back to me), the next few hours were gruesome. Even though the skeletons make no attempt to hide their tracks and path of destruction throughout the preserve, my tracking skills are negligible and the light from my hand was small. I was fortunate that I was able to track down and destroy the five additional skeletons that I did until morning. There was a lot more luck than skill in the hunt. Fortunately, the skeletons seemed adverse from breaking out of the square two miles that made up the preserve. That helped, if only to ease my fears. I can¡¯t say I blame them, on one side is a busy highway, another, a commercial district, the third a small lake, and the last the residential homes and asphalt streets they would be unfamiliar with. Twice, I witnessed a skeleton reach the unclear edge of the preserve, only to gaze out at the lights of city buildings, stores, restaurants, high rise apartments, and then promptly angle back into the woods. Good. I don¡¯t want to have to deal with witnesses. Still, the preserve was mostly a swampy wetland and I hate running through swampy wetlands. I¡¯ve gotten dozens of scratches and stabs from unsuspecting sharp branches. The DNR is going to throw a fit when they see the tracks and damage we have made through their precious preserve. The skeletons didn''t read the signs that clearly stated that trespassing was a state offense. Ignorant savages. At least none of the wildlife was trying to kill me, honestly, that is a huge bonus for me. Usually, I couldn¡¯t go anywhere without some eldritch horror jumping out at me. I have no idea how I am going to hide the remains of the skeletons, or even if I should try. Every archer I killed though I carefully cleansed their poisoned arrows. Did earth have any antidotes for that poison? I have no idea, but I wasn¡¯t going to allow an unsuspecting fool kill themselves by touching one of them. ¡­ Blast, why do I have to deal with this? I should be at home, in bed, chowing on all the delicacies this world has to offer. ¡­ Running around has given me a lot of time to contemplate. Firstly, I think not much time has passed here, if any. It would be convenient, for certain. I had spent only a few moments at my home, but there was a clear lack of yellow tape, if you know what I mean. If I had disappeared for only a week, I would think there would still be a presence there, especially around the previous spot of my bedroom, now strange stone cellar/vault. Great, how am I going to fix that? Board up the openings? Hire a wrecking ball to tear down the stone wall? Also, it seems that there is no earth apocalypse in my absence, which was actually a pretty big worry. Judging from my rather peaceful run through the woods, no sirens were wailing, no helicopters thumping around, nor any random smoke and fires were appearing in the city skylines, so I think that¡¯s a good sign. Speaking of the apocalypse, I am pretty sure I was just really to starting my very own. I think the temple was some sort of sterilized environment but if I had taken a zombie back with me instead of the skeletons, or some other infected biomass, or even a single spore, perhaps I might have unleashed the plague that would end all the humans on the planet. The thought scared me so badly, halfway to morning I returned to my house and cleansed every inch of the vault and up to ten yards away. Also, every skeleton I caught got cleansed to kingdom come. I guess that¡¯s and easy way to get rid of the bones. Their blasted armor still remained. A surprise I noticed now that I was back was that the system was no longer working. I still had my skills, but I couldn¡¯t view my status or inspect anything. Even Pesos¡¯ timer was gone now, no more blue boxes. I don¡¯t know what it means and I haven¡¯t decided if its a good or bad thing yet. If I want to try to integrate back into society after this potentially literally maddening trauma, not having floating boxes of text around me that nobody else can see would certainly help. I just hope this means Pesos is really not coming back again to bite me. Trying to judge how much mp I have left without the status screen is annoying though. Assuming I even have a quantifiable amount of mp anymore. I never bothered trying to get a feel for it before when the text was so easy to use. Now the sun is starting to rise though and my exhaustion has reached the level where everything is viewed as an obstacle between me and my bed. Errr¡­ fold out couch downstairs now, I guess. I hope I have some tarps I can use to temporarily block the holes in my house. This last hour has left me with a fruitless search and I feared that the bloody skeletons finally decided to leave the preserve for good and go terrorize the local populace. But in the end I found them, all bunched up together for once, three armored types, one archer and one soldier. As the sunrise occurred in the east I found the five skeletons ankle deep in the water, staring back at me as I stepped out of the forest into the fresh patch of one hundred foot grass leading up the the lake. Somebody was doing a good job maintaining the grassy stretch. It was a beautiful sunrise, the best I think I have ever seen. Streams of steam rose up from the ghostly water, reflecting in the morning sun. There were no clouds in the sky and the stark contrast of the presence of the otherworldly skeletons and the natural beauty stopped my in my tracks. ¡­ I really was stuck in that sick green cloudy hell for too long. After only a moment, I moved onward, ready to finish the problem once and for all. The remaining skeletons looked at me coldly with their dark hollow sockets and I gripped the spear tightly in my hand. The blasted skeletons managed to enter the lake from the single worse spot. Namely, the hundred foot square of swamp directly next to the lake that was the actual reason for the preserve in the first place. A small stream fed into the lake from that point but something about the ecology in that specific spot was enough to make the DNR declare it absolutely off limits to human touch as it was somehow rare and precious. The skeletons paid no heed to the dire warnings posted around and tramped all over it. Sorry, DNR, but justice will be swift, I assure you. That said, I take the long way around, stepping out into the shallow water from the side and sloshing their way. I might still be in the major off limits zone, but what can I do? I¡¯ve got skeletons to kill. I speed up when I see the skeletons start moving away from me. But a second later I realize¡­ Holy crap. They are moving into the lake. Alarmed, I can only try to trudge faster through the water, but before I can reach them I see them start sinking. I stop moving when the water is up to my waste and I can only stare out in disbelief as the last skeleton¡¯s head disappears below the surface with a small ripple, full plate armor and all. ¡­ ¡­ I hope they sink into the mucky depths and perish. To Davy Jones''s locker for them! ¡­ What on earth am I supposed to do now? Swim after them? Yeah right, for all the magical skills I have, underwater breathing is not one of them. They certainly don¡¯t have that trouble. I can only stare in shock at the turn of events, silvery dust dissolving off my legs and into the water around me as I stand still.Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. Damn, I was a fool for not seeing this possibility. I don¡¯t know how deep this lake is, small inland lakes like this are mostly mush and its probably only twenty or thirty feet deep, max. With all the muck, it¡¯s impossible to see anything too, but they will not have that problem. If I go in there, I think I will pretty much guarantee my demise. Hopefully all their equipment will rust out. But that won¡¯t happen overnight. ¡­ I don¡¯t know, I think this one is beyond me. With a sigh, I wade back to shore and sit down to rest for a couple hours, trying to enjoy the blissful morning and watching in case any skeletons emerge from the deep. No such luck. I also took the opportunity to bathe a little, regaining a little bit of my humanity. The silver dust bled off into the water, but I am sure its environmentally friendly. As the morning starts I am aware that I look like a crazy vagabond hobo spear wielding madman to any viewer, so I try to crouch down behind some bushes. I don¡¯t want that kind of attention. ¡­ What kind of energy do the skeletons use? I always suspected they were powered by the mana the instance or the mage provided for them, so if that¡¯s the case, they will run out of battery soon and that will be the end of that. Good riddance. ¡­ Or, they take in mana from the air or just produce it themselves, like I do. I can feel that my mana is regenerating here, even if I can¡¯t see it on the status screen anymore. ¡­ A train of ducks swims on by, blissfully unaware of the terrors below them. ... Blast! I can¡¯t take the chance! I need somebody to come in and throw tons of dynamite into the lake and blow the local fishes and skeletons to hell! I¡¯m sure the DNR will be okay with that. ¡­ The small lake sure is peaceful. You can hardly tell there is a squad of murder freaks in the depths. I should get a film crew out here and get some good footage for a horror movie when they do emerge. Super authentic! ¡­ If I did call the national guard, or police, what would I even say to them? That there are animated skeletons hiding in this lake? Tell them my story and show them my powers to prove it? Where would that even leave me when all is said and done? Back at my job at the company, billing people for our services and living my life just as before, with some added super powers? Or, something more dire, straight out of a grim comic. ... This is insane¡­ I stay around the lake for most of the morning, but I feel like I am not going to win the waiting game with these guys. I thought about trying to get somebody over here to watch the lake in my absence, but the task is so daunting I give it up. Besides, I am far enough away that the skeletons wouldn¡¯t even be able to tell if I am here or not and it is daytime right now so I am sure somebody would notice a troupe of muddy skeletons emerging from the lake and call the police. ... Also, I have an odd feeling that the skeletons have a plan down there in the lake. They are not just hiding, but something more sinister. I have no idea what it could be, I doubt they have the ability to create a portal to hell or something like that, so it''s probably just my biased hatred for them. When the morning is over I finally give up. The highway is busy and the commercial district is up and running. Judging by the atmosphere, it feels like a Saturday. Around the non-swampy half of the lake the apartment village is bustling with activity, especially at the waterfront. Dogs are running, adults are moseying, children are swimming... God Damn it. I can¡¯t let those skeletons go. Not when people are in danger. I¡¯ve got to do something. I slink back into the woods, making my way back to my house. From every suspense thriller movie I have seen, I know that running down to the beachhead at the apartment community, waving my hands wildly, dressed like a madman, and screaming incomprehensible nonsense will have the opposite effect to what I want. And as the confused beachgoers look at me the skeletons will appear and drag the beautiful bikini clad actress into the water by her heel while all the onlookers gasp in horror and disbelief. I¡¯m not going that route. I leave the scraps of steel at the remains of the skeletons were they are located as I pass them by. I¡¯ll leave the proof there. At my house, I change into some dirty laundry from downstairs next to my washing machine, after giving it a good cleansing of course. I sniff the shirt and then put it on, satisfied with it and the master chief image on front. Awesome. I pull out the stone that once was the core and examine it for the first time. Its all white with a blood red spot in the middle of the wrinkly fossil. Other than that is seems very non-magical and dead. Not knowing what else to do with it, I stuff it into a cedar chest I have in the basement I use for storing blankets. After clothing myself presentably I grab whatever I can from the fridge and stuff it into my mouth, eating a bell pepper like and apple and then chow down a previously moldy chicken breast, now cleansed. And I thought the wafers tasted good. I leave in a rush, but manage to ask my smart thermostat before I shut the door, ¡°What¡¯s the date today?¡± The device blinked for a second before responding with a ding, ¡°Today is Saturday, June 23rd.¡± Nice. I think. It really is the day I had left. It¡¯s like Narnia, those characters literally spent over a decade inside the wardrobe, but when they came back, they were kids again. I am glad that did not happen to me at least, that has got to be weird. Still chowing the red pepper, I make my way over to the house on my right. Bill lives there along with his wife. He¡¯s a retired truck driver and is super handy and nice; he helped me try to fix my garage door a month back when one of the cables snapped. I never talked to him before and not since. I haven¡¯t met his wife, but today is a good day to try. I am feeling particularly bold. My other neighbor¡¯s house sits back further in the woods and has clear large signs in red and black saying that no trespassing is allowed. I am pretty sure he is growing weed in his backyard and is dealing out front, you can sometimes smell the fruity fragrance in the summer winds. I haven¡¯t caught his name yet and I¡¯ve pretty much actively avoided the guy. He did seek me out last fall when I was leaf blowing to tell me I could blow all my leaves into his wooded property if I wanted, so the jury is still out on him. Still, I¡¯m going to go to the guy I know the name of at least. I walk up to the front door, a little trepidatiously despite myself. Bill¡¯s lawn is immaculate and in his retirement I see him out in it all the time with his fancy toys from his pole barn. It makes me feel bad in comparison, especially when our lawns are literally next to each other and he often mows and waters my side of it too. Oh well, he¡¯s got time and he enjoys it, so what do I care? I knock on the door, and shift my weight uneasily. What am supposed to say? I haven¡¯t a clue. Talking to semi-strangers was never a strong point. After a few moments, the wife answers the door with a surprised face. Crap! I don¡¯t know her name! Nor do I know if she could recognize me. I was expecting Bill to answer for some reason. I swallow nervously and try to smile. ¡°Hello!¡± I say brightly, ¡°I¡¯m Greg, your neighbor!¡± I point over to my house without looking. ¡°How are you doing this morning!¡± Stink, I shouldn¡¯t have asked that, that was dumb. She kinda gapes at me for a second, before responding warily. ¡°Fine¡­¡± I stare at her for a second too, but she doesn¡¯t say anything more. I can feel my face heating up, but I try to ignore it. ¡°Great!¡¯ I say with too much enthusiasm. Then I start fumbling around, ¡°Say, can I talk to Bill¡­ I mean, my phone got destroyed and¡­ look, I¡¯ve got a small problem, can I borrow your phone to make a call? My phone isn¡¯t working.¡± She gapes at me for a moment longer as I feel my smile straining. Then she turns her head around and calls back, ¡°Bill!¡± After a moment of me standing on the welcome step, I can hear a faint voice calling back, ¡°What?¡± ¡°Can you come here?¡± ¡°Why, what¡¯s up?¡± ¡°Its¡­¡± she turns back to me, her eyes giving me a once over with eyebrows raised. She just calls back with some tension, ¡°Just come over here please.¡± I can hear a low, ¡°Okay,¡± and I keep my smile frozen on my face as the wife and I stare at each other. I want to go home. Eventually Bill comes into view. His big boned, grey haired, and weathered skin body. Oh, thank God. He looks at me and his eyes bulge a little. ¡°Greg!¡± he exclaims, ¡°Are you okay?¡± Excellent, I think my current social prowess can take it from here. ¡°I¡¯ve had a hard day, actually. I¡¯ve got a problem and my phone was destroyed, can I borrow yours to make a call?¡± His mouth hangs open a little bit and I realize that I haven¡¯t actually looked at myself in a mirror yet. I have no idea what I look like, but it must be something awful. Probably looks like I haven¡¯t eaten in a month. Oh yeah, most of my hair is gone at this point too. What¡¯s still there is probably patches. I should have worn a hat. After a few more moments of shock on his end he regains his composure and steps aside, gesturing inside his house. ¡°Of course,¡± he says. ¡°Over here.¡± I step in and follow him, checking out the inside of his house. I don¡¯t know what to say. It looks like an old person¡¯s house. Not that that¡¯s a bad thing, it¡¯s very neat and tidy. He guides me forward and the wife follows behind me, I can feel her gaze on my back. ¡°What happened to you, Greg?¡± Bill asks as we walk into his kitchen. ¡°You look like Hell!¡± I shake my head. I don''t know what to say. Behind me, I hear the wife turn off, going into the living room. I can hear a television going on in the background. ¡°I don¡¯t know what to say,¡± I state, looking at him in his eyes. I don¡¯t want to burden him, so I don¡¯t elaborate. He gives me a queer look and then reaches up and grabs a phone off the wall. A corded phone. ¡°A landline?¡± I ask him with a grin. ¡°In this age?¡± He gives me a scowl. ¡°Landlines don¡¯t fail when the power goes out. And you can¡¯t lose it.¡± Of course he says that, why am I not surprised. I stare at the phone in my hand. Oh crap. After a moment Bill grunts, ¡°Aren¡¯t you going to make your call?¡± ¡°I¡¯m trying to remember my parent¡¯s number.¡± At my statement, Bill gives out a short bark of laughter and then leans back against the wall with a sigh. I continue to stare at the plastic phone in my hand, willing the numbers to appear in my head. 254? Or was it 245? Blast! ¡°Seems like its a good thing too, considering what¡¯s going on today.¡± Bill adds, giving me an eye, ¡°Having the landline, I mean. My kids can call me anytime without worry.¡± Oh, okay. ... That sounds ominous. ¡°What do you mean?¡¯ He shrugs back. ¡°Hell if I know. Come here and look.¡± He moves me into view of the television. The phone is still in my hand, it¡¯s a long cord. Nice. The wife is sitting on the edge of their flowery couch, her legs bouncing up and down repeatedly. She has her hands under her chin and is gazing intently at the television, her thin frame wound up. She¡¯s so tense, it''s starting to make me tense. On the TV a newscaster is speaking and some images are being shown but I can¡¯t make out what is happening. ¡°Our daughter lives in LA,¡± Bill says next to me. ¡°I called her first thing this morning when I heard what was happening. The call came through no problem.¡± ¡°Didn¡¯t she have a cell phone though?¡± ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter,¡± Bill grunts back, ¡°the point is that she can call me anytime and we don¡¯t have to ever worry about it.¡± Whatever floats your boat, Bill. I look at the news for a few more moments, but out of context I can¡¯t make heads or tails. Clearly something important is happening. ¡°What¡¯s going on, Bill? Bill looks at me and then looks at the phone in my hand. ¡°If your not going to make a call, put it back, I want to be able to pick it up if my daughter calls again.¡± Chastised, I hang it back up quickly. I really can¡¯t remember my parent¡¯s cell phone numbers. Blast. ¡°Anything new, honey?¡± Bill asks his wife. ¡°There are eight of them now,¡± the woman answers, her voice a little strained. That¡¯s not helpful. ¡°Eight what?¡± I say loudly, looking directly at Bill. He raises his eyebrows at me and then puts his hands together to make a sphere, wiggling his hands back in forth as if trying to come up with a good illustration. Eventually, he gives up and gives a meaningless shrug. Thanks Bill. It doesn¡¯t look like I am getting a clear answer from them, so I watch the TV and try to piece it together. Eventually a helicopter shot comes in and I see a video of a dark gray opaque sphere, planted in the middle of a big city. Judging from the buildings around it, its about the size of my house. Also, It appears to be sitting halfway on a road and halfway directly into some office building. That¡¯s not natural. Once it appears on screen Bill waves his hand forward. ¡°That¡¯s the one that appeared in LA. There are eight of them now, confirmed around the world, China, Europe, you name it. Nobody knows where they came from, how they got there, are what they are made of. Aliens, if you ask me.¡± Apparently, my look of stupidity is gratifying enough for Bill to provide some more info. ¡°They are growing too, expanding they say. Not too fast, but measurably, an inch in diameter and hour, I think they said.¡± he shrugs, enjoying my expression. ¡°They consume whatever they touch, nothing comes out. They¡¯ve tried cameras and drones, but nothing works. It¡¯s an attack, I told my daughter to get out of LA, but she won¡¯t listen. Bombs, that¡¯s what they are.¡± ... Holy stink, is that really what I think it is? Are there really eight of those blasted things scattered across the world, probably more? And what? One just happened to spawn directly on top of me? I feel a little weak at my knees and I lean against the wall for support. ... What the hell is going on? Nobody knows that answer, certainly not the newscasters. Another wave of weakness hits me when I realize I probably have more answers than anybody else on earth. I guess, if nothing else, this makes my job a little easier. Hopefully. I walk back to the kitchen and pick up the phone again, dialing my second number, this one I can at least remember. A voice answers immediately, ¡°911, what¡¯s your emergency?¡± Chapter 20 ~ Domestic Affairs My phone call with the dispatcher was one of the most awkward conversations I have ever had. I had spent a few moments before the call crafting out perfectly planned words and arguments to convince the operator of the plight, but after the first few words on the other end, I could hardly remember my name, much less what I had wanted to say. I should have written it down. Only the knowledge that phone calls to the police are tracked and prank calling them would have some terrible consequence, a fine, probably, kept me from hanging up the phone in panic. So I ploughed through what I wanted to say like a drunken farmer behind a drunken mule. I can¡¯t remember the conversation much, but I mentioned animated skeletons, armed and dangerous, the lake they are in and the danger to the people in the apartment complex. I think I remember trying to tie in the danger to the mysterious grey spheres that popped up around the planet, but my conversation wasn¡¯t very organized. It didn¡¯t help having Bill stare at me with his eyes bulging out at me and his mouth agape. Geeze, give me some space man, I can¡¯t think! Only the saintly level of patience on the operator¡¯s side was what managed to salvage the situation. She must be experienced with dealing with panicked and frantic callers. In my case though, it was the call itself that was flustering me. ¡°Please calm down, sir,¡± she said in a soothing but stern voice, like everything was already under control. ¡°Take a deep breath and speak more slowly.¡± I do just that, and give Bill a glare to stop staring at me. He doesn¡¯t seem to get the message. ¡°I am sorry,¡± I say, gathering my wits, ¡°Let me try again.¡± I¡¯m certain I sounded like a lunatic either way, so I am not sure how I managed it but I did convince them to evacuate the beachfront around the lake. They¡¯ll be sending some officers over there to oversee the situation. They¡¯ll also be sending an officer directly to me, to try to confirm my tale. I had stressed repeatedly over the phone that I could prove what I was claiming, that I would take any and all responsibility for false alarm or what not, etc. I think that on any other day they would not have believed a word I said and sent me straight to the loony bin. Any other day, when alien pinballs didn¡¯t appear mysteriously around the world. In the end, it was my claim of knowledge about the spheres that moved them, if only halfheartedly. After ending the hardest phone call of my life and hanging up the phone, now slick with sweat, Bill attacked me with dozens of questions. If nothing else, it seems that he believes me. ¡°Bill,¡± I said, stopping him in his tracks, ¡°A police officer will be coming by soon to investigate my claims. You are welcome to come with me and be there as I answer all his questions. I don¡¯t want to have to repeat myself ad infinitum.¡± Bill looked like he wanted to ask more, but nodded at that, shutting himself up. His phone rang back a second later and he picked it up quickly, wiping the sheen of sweat off the back of the phone. I am ashamed. It seems his daughter called. I move over to the living room to see if there is anything new on the TV while I wait. Bill¡¯s wife is giving me an odd look, skeptical, I think. I¡¯m okay with that too, as long as they don¡¯t write me off immediately. I try to ignore her and focus on the television I can hear Bill talking quickly with his daughter, ¡°Stay away from the sphere, it¡¯s dangerous. And look out for skeletons! Yes, skeletons, animated ones. Perhaps other monsters too! I just heard that they could be appearing out of the sphere and attacking people. No, I am not joking.¡± Oh boy, this is how rumors start. As I waited for the officer to arrive I watched the television along with the silent wife. There were two spheres located in the continental US, one in LA and one in Mississippi. The one in Mississippi was not found in a populated area, so it wasn¡¯t garnishing as much attention. The one in LA apparently had some casualties associated with it already, three people missing from inside the building the sphere was located in. Hearing that, I felt my heart sink. I guess they didn¡¯t make it out like I did. A few minutes later of aerial coverage and I saw the familiar white sedan come down our drive. With a sigh and headed out the door to meet the officer and heard Bill say quietly, ¡°Alright, I¡¯ve got to go sweetie, you be safe now.¡± A moment later he stepped outside and waited next to me, not speaking. The police car pulled up and into Bill¡¯s driveway. The officer parked and waited a few moments playing around with something inside before exiting the car. The officer looked to be in his mid forties, a mostly bald head with a nice gray goatee. He was wearing his officer uniform, of course, and he walked up the driveway to us with an experienced gait. I have had little experience with cops, there was only one time I was pulled over and it was for one of my headlights being out. It scared the crap out of me as I had tried to remember what my dad told me to do when I got pulled over. It didn¡¯t help that at the time I hadn¡¯t bothered to put in my updated registration in my glove box. See police officers always made me feel like I did something wrong. He walked up to me and stopped, putting his hands on his hips. He was a little overweight, giving him a nice belly. He eyed me and Bill before asking, ¡°Which one of you is Gregory?¡± Bill points at me like a guilty teenager. I roll my eyes and answer. ¡°That¡¯s me. And this is Bill, my neighbor. He let me borrow his phone as mine got destroyed. The officer stares at me directly with a hint of disdain for a few more moments before saying lightly, ¡°Alright, show me what you¡¯ve got.¡± ¡°Right,¡±I cleared my throat. ¡°Follow me to my house, please,¡± I say leading them across Bill¡¯s yard and onto my property. Halfway through I heard Bill give an audible gasp. I walk up to the stone vault attached to my house, looking entirely out of place there. ¡°This used to be my room. Then one of those spheres appeared here overnight while I was sleeping and dragged me and my room inside. When I escaped, it dragged the area around me back here, this stone vault thing. I also brought back the animated skeletons with me, I was running from them.¡± I tapped on the stone in illustration, the dull knocking sound of hollow space inside reverberating softly. The officer look up skeptically at the stone structure attached to my house while Bill does his best to imitate a fish. After a moment, Bill says, ¡°Holy Shit! Officer, this thing was not here yesterday, I assure you.¡± The officer looks around the vault, looking at the strange precise cuts in my house where the sphere took my room away and where the stone room hadn¡¯t sealed it up. He then looks at me like he can¡¯t believe it and then wipes sweat off his brow. He asks with a grunt, as if he can¡¯t think of anything else to say, ¡°What¡¯s inside it?¡± ¡°Take a look for yourself,¡± I answered. I had brought over my ladder early this morning in order to get inside and cleanse the whole,top and bottom. Its nice that I have two ladder too, one for getting on and one for getting out. I offer him a climb and say, ¡°There isn¡¯t much. Many of the skeletons I was fighting off wore armor of some kind so the steel plating is still lying around inside it. The remains of the skeletons have dissipated though.¡± He grunts at my last remark, as if I was hiding something, trying to trick him. I am not about to go over my new abilities though, not yet at least. There is only so much new info a person can take in at once, I know from experience. The officer climbed the ladder easily, surprisingly nimble for his size. Once on top he looks down through the wooden door while drawing his maglight from his side. He shines the powerful beam down into the room while he peers in. After a few seconds of looking around, he then proceeds to climb down into it, using the ladder I left behind. I climb up after him. Bill looks up at the ladder restlessly, but I guess he decides to wait his turn. He asks me as I climb up. ¡°So this box came from another world?¡± I pause at the question. Another world? Maybe. Another dimension, parallel timelines, alternate reality? Who knows. Could be any number of those things. I¡¯ve seen enough Star Trek to know there isn¡¯t much that separates them, so another world is a yes. ¡°I think so,¡± I reply to Bill, climbing up the ladder again. He doesn¡¯t take the news well, but instead gawks at the vault and lifts out a trembling hand to touch the side. If you¡¯re so scared of it, then don¡¯t touch it, geeze. Or is he just exited? Despite coming from another world, I think the stone is just that, stone. Bill speaks again before I reach the top. ¡°Is my daughter in danger? Do you think should I convince her to leave LA?¡± ¡°Maybe, I don¡¯t know for certain, but I think not. Inside the sphere is dangerous, but the only reason the skeletons came out was because I defeated it and accidently brought them back with me. For now, at least, I don''t think anything is coming out.¡± Bill seems unsatisfied with my answer, but I ignore him, clambering onto the ledge. Once there I peer down in the hole, seeing the officer look around, not touching anything. I offer some narrative, ¡°The skeletons had chased me down into this cellar but I was able to use the small opening to ambush them as they tried to get inside. Those are the remains of the armor they wore.¡± He takes my words without comment before squatting down and observing the steel closely. An obvious and undamaged helmet is lying right next to him, a shield split into two next to that. ¡°This looks like it was cut, did you do that?¡± he asks quizzically, not looking up. ¡°Yes,¡± I nod, realizing how absurd that sounds. How does somebody cut tink steel plating like that without a laser tool or something? ¡°I¡¯ve got a spear I brought back with me that I used to fight them. It¡¯s very sharp.¡± The officer looks up at me. It¡¯s hard to see in the dark especially when he pointing his maglight straight at my face, but I think he has a look of indigent disbelief on his face. ¡°Err, I¡¯ll go get it and show you, its inside my house.¡± I climb down off the vault and see Bill eagerly standing at the foot of the ladder. He looks excited to get a chance to look inside the other worldly vault, but his hopes are dashed. ¡°Ot, ot, ot!¡± the officer says quickly, shewing Bill away and coming down the ladder himself. No civilians disturbing the scene, I guess. I left the spear right on the inside of my door so I reach in and grab without a problem. Looking at it closely for once, I see its beautiful workmanship and deadly point. Man, this thing is so awesome. Stepping out onto my lawn again, Bill eyes the spear impressively while the officer, not so much. I hold it out for the officer to inspect and he takes it gingerly while Bill steps away as if the spear is a venomous snake. The officer says after a moment, inspecting the tip, ¡°Nice craftsmanship. Where did you get it?¡± ¡°One of the creatures in the sphere had it,¡± I say, holding out my hand for it back. He hesitates for a moment before returning it. ¡°Its has special characteristics and almost killed me. Surviving became much easier once I had it though. Watch.¡± I hold the spear up and cast edge on it. The tip of the spear lights up dangerously and I can see Bill¡¯s jaw drop, again. The officer is stoic though and I am suddenly irritated by his lack of impression. What¡¯s it take, huh? This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. When I bought the house last year an old rusted pole a basketball hoop would be attached to came with it, planted next to the driveway. It''s in disrepair and I never played basketball anyway so I hadn¡¯t bothered to fix it up. Moved by a sudden irrational impulse, I swing at the base of the solid pole. It cuts cleanly like butter, but I immediately regret it as the blasted thing comes falling down toward me. With a yelp, I dodge way before it hits me, the thing landing with a concussive rattling on my concrete driveway. Fortunately, the two men were far enough away to be out of the danger zone, but I immediately felt foolish. What am I going to do with this piece of junk now? Looking back at the officer I offer him a grimace, ¡°Sorry, that was stupid of me. But that¡¯s how I was able to slice that steel up back there.¡± The officer looks stunned for the first time, before coughing lightly into his hand and saying curtly, ¡°Put that thing away before you get yourself killed.¡± I put it back inside my garage, chastised, and return to see the officer shaking his head. I pick up the rusted pole and move it out of the way, to the side of my driveway. ¡°God, what a day,¡± the officer murmurs, wiping the sweat off his forehead again. I stand politely to the side waiting for his verdict. ¡°The whole world¡¯s gone nuts!¡± he continues, ¡°what¡¯s next, UFOs sighting? Leviathans in the oceans? The second coming?¡± Bill looks at me curiously, the awe in his face finally gone. ¡°What was it like in the sphere?¡± he asks. ¡°It was bad,¡± I say, ¡°I¡¯m lucky to have survived.¡± I leave it at that, I don''t want to talk about it yet. The officer stares at me for a few more moments, before shaking his head. ¡°I¡¯m officer Grant, by the way. Any other day and you would have been chased off as a lunatic with a heavy fine, but the world¡¯s going to hell apparently. Nobody knows what is happening, you weren¡¯t the only one calling in with crazy stories and hysterics of the end of the world. I expected to find you putting us up with this as well, but I guess there is enough here worth investigating. Let me call into the station really quick. Then, walk me through the rest of your story.¡± The officer moves way, back to his car, grabbing the radio on the inside. He pauses before he speaks and gives me an eyeful as if this is all my fault. I don''t blame him, it partially is. I wouldn''t want to report back to the station with what he saw either. As the officer speaks to his radio, Bill comes up to me. ¡°Hey, are you really okay?¡± he asks quietly. I give him a shrug. ¡°I don¡¯t know. I actually spent a week in the instance, sphere, whatever you want to call it. I didn¡¯t think I would make it back.¡± He moves as if to give me a hug, but stops himself halfway through. I really don¡¯t know Bill that well, but I am grateful for the thought. He adds in, covering up his awkward moment, ¡°Your hair looks crazy, you should cut it or something, shave it maybe. It looks like nothing I have ever seen. Unless you are going for some extreme avent garde thing.¡± He gives fake chuckle at that. I roll my eyes at him, ¡°Yeah, I¡¯ll do that, when I can. For now I¡¯ll just grab a hat.¡± As grant continues to talk into his car I walk into my house and grab a baseball cap I have in my closet, but not before looking in a mirror. Crazy, I do look that part of a mad ward. I don¡¯t own a shaving kit or anything like that so I just put on the cap and return outside. Officer grant is waiting for me. ¡°They have cleared the beach like you asked,¡± he says reluctantly, ¡°You said there were five of the skeletons who retreated into the lake?¡± ¡°Yeah, three of them were covered in that steel armor like you saw in the vault, they also carry long swords. One of them just has a dagger and the last is an archer variety.¡± Officer grant gives me a salty look. ¡°Archer variety?¡± ¡°Yes, sir. The arrows they shoot are barbed ad have this numbing toxin on it. Its best not to get hit.¡± He shakes his head. ¡°Show me what you went through this morning.¡± For the next hour I take the officer, and Bill, who is acting like my protector, through the nature preserve, pointing out the tracks and fallen remains of my enemies. We leave the remains as they are and avoid trampling through the preserve as much as possible. The officer looks offended at the damage we created last night, but he doesn¡¯t say anything thankfully. At last we make it down to the grassy area where the skeletons waded into the water. Their tracks are still visible in the sandy mud, hard boots for the armored skeletons, and skeletal footprints for the other two. Looking over at the apartment complex, I see that the shore is vacated besides a couple officers looking around carelessly. I am relieved to see it, I was wondering if they actually did take me seriously. For his part, officer Grant is studying the footprints I showed him. Bill speaks up, looking over at the apartments with me. ¡®What did you tell the residents there? Surely not that skeletons were waiting for them?¡± The officer grunted, ¡°Bomb threat.¡± That¡¯s what I thought. ¡°The, uh, skeletons are still alive in here, you think?¡± I shrug but nod. ¡°Yes, they don¡¯t have to breathe or anything.¡± ¡°Jesus Christ,¡± Grant says, standing up. ¡°Magic?¡± ¡°I can¡¯t imagine anything else.¡± ¡°How are we supposed to kill animated skeletons?¡± I give Bill and the officer a look at that last question. ¡°Bullets or explosives, take your pick. I imagine a shotgun will do a lot of damage. They are pretty fragile, once you get inside their armor.¡± The officer just closes his eyes, wishing this day never happened. He then looks out over the lake as if one of the skeletons would just appear. Or maybe he is just wishing I would say this is all a joke. Neither occurs. ¡°So, what?¡± Grant says, turning back to me, ¡°Are you saying that each of these spheres contains one of these worlds with these fu¡­¡± he pauses as he re-considers his words, ...messed up skeletons?¡± ¡°Or another variety of monsters, I do not know.¡± ¡°Jesus Christ,¡± he says again, looking back over the water. It¡¯s a peaceful lake now, hardly a ripple to be seen. I fidget and then add in, ¡°I hope they are still in there, I watched the lake for most of the morning and didn¡¯t see them leave but I was gone for a little while to call in the police. I doubt the moved in that time period.¡± Grant doesn¡¯t honor my words with a reply. Eventually, he turns back and says, ¡°let¡¯s go.¡± We walk back to my house, I let him take the lead while Bill follows behind us. As we move Officer Grant starts talking. ¡°People are going to want to speak with you. I don''t know who yet, it depends on how far up this goes. This is way beyond anything we have seen before, Christ, this is so messed up. The other spheres are expanding with no sign of stopping. Nobody knows what the hell these things are, besides you, apparently. People are scared, you know, the government is scrambling after any leads. They are going to come down on you like a fat man at a buffet, wanting to know everything you just told me and more. Things are going to get chaotic for you.¡± ¡°I know.¡± I reply, stomping behind him. ¡°I knew that would happen when I called in. But I couldn''t let the skeletons just sit in the lake without anybody keeping an eye on them. They are dangerous, and will kill anybody they come across without hesitation. I can¡¯t protect the people by myself.¡± I feel a reassuring hand on my shoulder and look back to see Bill staring at me, with a comforting gaze. I give him a smile and he lets go. We don¡¯t talk the rest of the way back and as we enter my yard again I say to Officer Gran,. ¡°I¡¯m going to head up to my parents now, and spend the night there.¡± ¡°The hell you are.¡± Grant replied, looking back at me incredulously. ¡°I need you to stay here and answer more questions when people arrive. Since your house is unstable, we¡¯ll put you up at a hotel.¡± I shake my head. ¡°Don¡¯t ¡®hell¡¯ me, Officer. I¡¯ve been trapped in Hell for the last week, wondering if I would ever make it back alive. I¡¯m going to visit my family and that¡¯s just it. I can answer questions for you people tomorrow when I come back.¡± The officer gazes at me hard, but then his face softens and he says gruffly, ¡°I guess there is enough work we can do without you in the meantime. Give me a number I can reach you at at least and tell me where you are going.¡± I end up giving him my mom¡¯s number and my parent¡¯s address. Which was very difficult as I couldnt'' remember the blasted number. I ended up going inside and opening my laptop and pulling up an email that had her stinking number it it. Way too much work. Then I shake his hand, thanking him for his time, to which he mumbles something incomprehensible about the end of the world. I also thank Bill before retreating to my house and packing up a few belonging, mostly dirty laundry I cleanse up. I also go and take the rock thing that was once the core out of the cedar chest. I don¡¯t know why, but I want to keep this for myself for now. Forensic people are going to comb through my house I am sure, and I want to keep this thing. There is a lot I didn¡¯t tell Grant. To be fair he doesn¡¯t need to know everything and I¡¯m sure it¡¯ll get dragged out of me eventually, but some of the stuff I know is even more groundbreaking than stupid spheres appearing out of nowhere. Magical powers? The x-men comics are enough to know how that turns out. Great. I¡¯ll leave those problems for tomorrow when I come back. I¡¯ve got work on monday anyway. As I leave the house, heading to my car, Grant calls out at me, ¡°leave the spear! They are going to want to look at that damned thing.¡± I don¡¯t know who ¡®they¡¯ are, but I leave it in the garage. They had better return it when they are done, if I have to get a license to keep it or whatever then so be it. I¡¯m glad I¡¯m keeping the core with me though. The officer is just standing next to his vehicle, talking into his radio again. Soon, this neighborhood will be busy I think. I can imagine all the crazy scientists going goo-goo over the vault. And they thought moon rocks were exciting? As I pack my car, Bill comes up and leans on it. ¡°Are you going to be okay, Greg? Anything I can do for you?¡± I give him a smile, ¡°Do you think insurance will cover the damage to my house?¡± ¡°Better look over your policy again,¡± he says with a chuckle. If nothing else, the bank I have my mortgage with will be upset if its not covered. Ha. ¡°I think I¡¯ll be fine Bill, thanks for asking,¡± I say. ¡°I¡¯m just exhausted and I want to see my family again. I haven¡¯t been able to sleep well for over a week so I¡¯ll be looking forward to a real bed, with real food and nobody trying to kill me. It''ll be a nice change.¡± Bill grimaces at my last words and I sigh and add. ¡°I really don¡¯t know what¡¯s going to happen from now on, Bill. I don¡¯t know if your daughter should leave LA. Will the sphere¡¯s explode and send monsters running through the streets?¡± Bill pales at my words. ¡°I sure hope not, your guess is as good as mine. But let me tell you, if you have a gun, I would clean it. These dungeons, these spheres, they are dangerous and they are trying to build something. Something important, I don¡¯t know what. The guy I was dealing with in my sphere was building a huge palace for somebody before I killed him.¡± Bill gets even more pale at my last words and I realize I just casually said I murdered somebody. Whatever. ¡°So maybe it is best to get her out of there. If she comes here, she¡¯ll have the police around, protecting the neighborhood from the five rogue skeletons and whatever plans the sphere had is gone now. As for the other spheres, I don¡¯t know, but they need to be stopped.¡± Bill nods at me, his face still a little pale. ¡°I¡¯ll be back tomorrow evening.¡± I say as I get in my car. I give Bill one last smile before I close my door, ¡°Try not to let them destroy what¡¯s left of my home, please?¡± As I back out of the driveway, Bill looks at me like it''s the last time he¡¯ll ever see me. I wave at the officer as I pass him, but he waves at me to stop by for one last word. He leans in as I roll down my window, ¡°Listen, I need you to keep quiet about this. Don¡¯t go spreading what you know around too much. I can tell you¡¯ve kept a lot from me and that shows you¡¯re not stupid so I¡¯ll trust you not to go blabbing everything to everybody. You keep your cards close for now, only tell your family what they need to know. We don¡¯t need a public more panicked that it already is. When you get back tomorrow, though, somebody going to be here, expecting a full debrief, you understand?¡± I nod back and he slaps my car, standing up. He waves his hands forward, indicating me to move on. I do so without hesitation. As I drive out of the neighbrohood I see a couple more police cars coming in. I¡¯m glad I managed to avoid that. My parents live an hour away, north of the city. On the way, I stop at a fast food and order the biggest baddest burrito available, reflecting how lucky I am to keep my wallet and keys out on my credenza every night rather than in my room. The rest of the drive I listen to NPR go on and on about the spheres with nothing new happening. I¡¯m glad that word of my home hasn¡¯t spread to far yet. I wonder how under wraps they will keep it? If I was the government, I would keep it a secret until they actually had helpful information to present to the public. Other than that, I try my best not to think about it. Even looking back at the week now, it hardly seems real. The familiar peaceful roads that I travel on tell me that nothing has changed. What do they know. I pull up to my parents house an hour later, about three in the afternoon. My father is out in front, going to town on a pile of wood with an axe with an excited gleam in his eye. My parents have a wood burner in their basement and my dad has always had an unhealthy obsession collecting more firewood. It¡¯s a hobby, I guess. ¡°Hey!¡± he says with a smile, taking off his gloves. ¡°What brings you here?¡± Without closing my car door or saying a word, I step out and give him a big hug. Uncharacteristic of me, I know, but he accepts it readily. Then he looks at my face as we step apart. ¡°What happened??¡± he says, shocked at my malnourished appearance. He should see me with my hat off. ¡°A lot¡± I say, ¡°We should talk inside.¡± I reach back and grab my bag while he stands still, stunned. ¡°Okay,¡± he says quickly, regaining himself. He takes my bag for me and we move inside. Hearing the door open, my mom turns around in the chair she is in, her laptop in her lap. She has long blonde hair that would surely be gray if she didn¡¯t keep dyeing it. She gives up a pleasant smile seeing me at first, before that too twists into shock. I can see the news is also being played n their television. I bet the whole world is watching. ¡°Gregory!¡± She practically shouts, ¡°Are you okay?!¡± ¡°Yes,¡± I say quickly and emphatically, reassuring them. ¡°I am fine. I¡¯ve had a rough day though, but everything is fine now.¡± She still looks at me agog and my roommate sister, Shelly, comes walking into the living room. Her asian features and black hair look good on her, but she is currently brushing her teeth. She certainly does that a lot, must be a side effect of her perfectionism. She comes to a stop at the entrance to the living room, oblivious, and asks hopefully, ¡°Did you bring Pesos here too?¡± ¡­ ... Oh yeah. Stink. Chapter 21 ~ Scary Thoughts Aye, I was hoping to actually take a nap as soon as I got here, pushing off any serious explanations until after I got some much needed rest. My drive up here was a serious pain, halfway through I was doing my best not to nod off at the steering wheel. I had even considered pulling over on the side of the road and taking a power nap before continuing on. My plan was to sleep and confront the family with a fresh mind breaking it down slowly, so as to not overwhelm them. Shelley''s point blank question put an end to that plan; now I¡¯ve got to start at full throttle. Seeing my hesitation, already I could see warning bells going off in Shelley''s head as she stopped brushing her teeth and stared at me foamily. Then she seemed to notice my disheveled state and she went wide eyed and asked, ¡°What happened to you?¡± I look at the faces of my now concerned family, and I say as stoically as I possibly can, ¡°Pesos is dead.¡± I am met with stunned silence. ... I almost added, I killed her myself, but decided that would be way too dramatic and they didn¡¯t need to know that anyway. ¡°What?¡± Shelley replied incredulously, her foamy mouth looking ridiculous. ¡°What did you do?! What happened?! How did she die?¡± Well¡­ first I broke her neck, then I slammed a door in her face, hugged her to death, stabbed her multiple, and even strangled her once. Take your pick. With a sigh, I rub my face and sit down at the dining table, all eyes on me. I say after a moment, ¡°...finish brushing your teeth and I¡¯ll tell you all what happened.¡± Shelley rushed off to do just that and Mom and Dad joined me at the table, making the meeting suddenly formal. It''s probably for the best. After a moment, Mom asked, ¡°Have you told Jonathan yet?¡± Mom is the only one who calls my twin Jonathan, we all just call him Jon. What¡¯s up with that? ¡°No, I haven¡¯t yet,¡± I say plainly. ¡°My phone got destroyed too, so I can¡¯t even call anybody.¡± We all liked Pesos, but it would be a stretch to say we all loved her, so there were no tears around us. Jon probably won¡¯t cry either, not when its out of sight and done. With a new baby, the dog lost priority in his and his wife¡¯s life. He¡¯ll still be upset though. ¡°Where¡¯s Lara?¡± I ask. ¡°Downstairs, playing gamecube,¡± Dad says, despite it being a Wii U. ¡°Good, keep her down there for now, she doesn¡¯t need to hear this.¡± Nobody speaks again until Shelley comes back. Shelley returns and plops down on the chair next to me, gathering her hair back into a ponytail, her hair band between her lips. Once gathered, she grabs the band out of her mouth and finishes the job. ¡°Alright, what happened?¡± she demands. I take a look at the TV, still going on in the corner of the room, and point to it. ¡°One of those spheres appeared in my room last night while Pesos and I were sleeping.¡± They look at the TV as one and Shelley is the first to speak. ¡°Really?¡± I nod. ¡°Yes. Pesos and I got pulled inside. Inside was another world, like Narnia. I was there for a week, before I escaped. Pesos didn¡¯t survive.¡± There is a pregnant silence and I add, ¡°I am sorry.¡± There, remitted as succinctly as possible with words they can understand. As one, the three turned back to me. It was kind of creepy. ¡°What are they?¡± Mom asked, worry shown all over her face. That¡¯s a good question. ¡°The sphere¡¯s? I don¡¯t really know,¡± I confess. ¡°Spatial anomaly? Natural phenomenon? Alien attack? I don¡¯t know. But they are dangerous. And bizzar. The one at my house is gone now, I, uh, defeated it or whatever. Shut it down. The other ones though, they are trouble.¡± I then gave a small rundown of what happened, leaving out as many of the gruesome parts as possible, making it seem like an adventure, not a Hellhole. Shelley seemed excited at least, especially when I told them about the system inside. ¡°Like a game??¡± Shelley asked, her wide eyes scaring me with their excitement. Perhaps I should have told her the darker parts too. I can only nod though. ¡°Which brings me to my next point.¡± I add, turning over to Mom. ¡°Can you give me your hand?¡± With only a slight hesitation, mom puts her hands out over the table and I grab onto them. I close my eyes for the effect and activate heal. I hear a few sharp gasps and I open my eyes a moment later when the spell is done. I give my mom an evil grin and let go of her hands. ¡°How is your arthritis?¡± She takes her hand back and flexes her fingers back and forth. The look on her face is answer enough. I cough lightly and explain, ¡°A small trick, but I have also gained a healing ability. I wasn¡¯t sure it would work on others, so sorry for using you as a test subject, Mom. But I believe I healed your arthritis for now.¡± Mom and Dad¡¯s look of shock were enjoyable, but Shelley looked to be about to explode. ¡°You gained superpowers from the sphere??¡± Ah, I know where she is going with this. ¡°Skills¡± I correct her, ¡°the system inside the sphere awarded them to me, along with levels and a class. The system doesn¡¯t appear to work outside of the sphere, but I can still use my skills.¡± ¡°What other ones to you have?¡± Shelley asks quickly, ¡°What kind of limits do you have with that healing ability? How high is your level?¡± I scratch my scraggly beard. ¡°Well¡­. I-¡± ¡°Wait, wait!¡± She gushes, interrupting me and jumping out of her chair. ¡°¡®I¡¯m going to get some paper to write this down!!¡± She dashes off to the office. ¡­ Maybe she is a little too excited over this. Or maybe not, it is pretty cool as long as you take out the murderous mages and parasitic earthworms. I turn to Dad, he has what I really want to heal. I say quickly, ¡°I want to heal your skin cancer too, Dad.¡± I see him swallow nervously and ask, his voice shaky. ¡°You can do that?¡± ¡°I believe so. I want you to live a long life, you know.¡± He absorbs that and I can see emotion in his eyes. ¡°Give me your hands.¡± His hands are shaking like a leaf in a storm, but I grab them and hold them tight before casting heal again. I keep my eyes open, watching his skin react. Dad doesn¡¯t actually have cancer right now, but he did years ago, and runs the risk of it to this day. He doesn¡¯t go outside in the sun without clothing and hats covering him along with super sun block. His hands and face are worn past their years due to reckless sun exposure as a youth. Twice a year he visits his dermatologist to get inspected everywhere and has precancerous spots zapped off with a freeze gun. Not fun or pleasant, especially for the rest of us who have to worry. If this works, I swear it¡¯ll all have been worth it. I can feel the mana leaving my body, not an exact figure, but I can feel my pool plummeting. This is only the second time I¡¯ve used heal on somebody other than myself and I can already tell it comes at a much higher cost. A few moments in, the dim golden light enveloping Dad, and Shelley bursts back, shouting angrily, ¡°Why didn¡¯t you wait for me? What are you doing now?¡± Mom shushes her and Shelley slams the paper on the table and starts writing furiously. As the skill works, I can see Dad¡¯s skin slowly transforming before my eyes, still a little wrinkly, but the spots are fading. I look up at his face where the skin is the most damaged and see the same is happening, his skin becoming smooth and fresh. Excellent. With my mana mostly depleted, I step back and cancel the spell. Dad doesn¡¯t look like a whole new person, but he definitely looks healthier. I give him a warm smile, ¡°How do you feel?¡± ¡°Good,¡± he responds, his voice cracking slightly. I get up and give him a big hug which he returns. Dang, I¡¯m so glad I could do that. I pull back and add, ¡°Now, I¡¯d like to do this again tomorrow after I have my mana back,¡± I can see Shelley, mouthing the words mana as she writes it down, ¡°Just to make sure you are all good.¡± Dad and Mom both look like they are about to cry so I shift the topic quickly, ¡°I¡¯d also like to try to heal Robin of her MS, if possible. Honestly though, I don¡¯t know if that will work.¡± ¡°Why not?¡± Shelley asks, her eyes boring into my skull. I shake my head and return to my seat, ¡°It doesn¡¯t fix everything, I still need to wear glasses, the skill wouldn¡¯t fix my eyes. Speaking of that,¡± I continue, turning to Mom who¡¯s looking over Dad intensely. I cough loudly and ask, ¡°Do you know if my old glasses are still around? I¡¯ll want those back until I can get new ones again.¡± Mom nods at me without speaking, words seeming to fail her. ¡°I won¡¯t be able to fix your eyesight either, Shelley, I don¡¯t think it works against what¡¯s in our DNA.¡± Shelley gives me a big pout at that one. If I have bad eyesight, then she¡¯s practically blind without her thick glasses. Err¡­. think contact lenses. ¡°If you can help Robin, that would be amazing,¡± Mom breathes out. ¡°That would be such a blessing to them...¡± She doesn¡¯t need to tell me that. She adds on, ¡°You could help so many people, Greg...¡± It''s a scary thought. ¡°This is also dangerous, Greg,¡± Dad finally kicks in, ¡°If people find out what you can do, you won¡¯t have a peaceful life ever again. Are you prepared to deal with that?¡± He knows me too well. I swallow ard and say, ¡°That¡¯s why I am only telling you three, let¡¯s keep it between us. I don¡¯t know what to do about the future. For now, I would just like some rest before I come to any major decisions. I haven¡¯t slept in a while.¡±Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. ¡°Not until you give me a rundown of what you know.¡¯ Shelley says, glaring at me like a criminal. Considering I am somebody withholding information from her, that might make me one in her eyes. ¡°Let him sleep,¡± Mom interjects with a cold look of her own at her daughter. Shelley just pouts at me. How can I say no to that? If nothing else, Shelley knows how to use her little sister power. Having four older brothers, it was probably something she needed to survive. I end up giving in to her, and give her all the numbers I can remember about my powers which she promptly writes all down. I can¡¯t pull down my status anymore, but I pull the paper from her and write out the page as best as I can remember. As we do this, Mom and Dad unfold the couch downstairs, getting it ready for my long nap. Yes please. ¡°20% increase each level?¡± she asks, looking down and contemplating the figures on her paper. ¡°So far.¡± I reply, munching on some pretzels. ¡°That¡¯s a lot, especially if it continues.¡± I shrug, ¡°not if everybody else increases the same way.¡± ¡°That would create huge differences in strength once you get to higher levels.¡± I suppose it would. Once I have a million MP, a 20% increase would be another 200 thousand. ¡°There might be a level cap.¡± I add. ¡°There might not be,¡± she counters. Then she stares down a the pages she has in front of her. I can see a look of desire on her face. ¡°No.¡± I say as sternly as possible. She pouts at me again, but I am immune now. Nothing on earth would move me on this. I look around to see that the parents are still downstairs before leaning in close to my sister. ¡°Keep this from Mom and Dad, but I lied about how dangerous it was there. It¡¯s incredibly so, I almost died hundreds of times.¡± She looks back at me unconvinced. I shift my weight. What can I say to convince her without coming across as an overprotective brother preventing her from having fun? I pause for a few moments before I continue, ¡°It was bad in there, Shelley. It was pure luck I survived at all, if I didn¡¯t have my healing ability I would have died a thousand times over. Everything there was trying to kill me, the air was filled with bacteria that would infect and suffocate me every three hours if I couldn¡¯t cleanse it, bugs and insects ate through my skin at every chance they got, I never had time to rest much.¡± She paled slightly at that last one and I took off my hat. ¡°There were little monsters there that would jump out and attack you like the monsters in Alien, they had acid saliva too, always jumping at my face. I have had my scalp melted off several times here, which is why my hair is like this. The zombies and skeletons would hunt me day and night, never giving me a moment¡¯s peace if they could help it. In this last week I¡¯ve been stabbed countless times, bitten, spliced, poisoned, burned, suffocated, that place itself doing its best to stamp the life out of me.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t ever want to go back there, sister, and I thanked God everyday I was there that you weren¡¯t there as well because you would have surely died. There were not a few times when I wanted to kill myself, just to end the pain.¡± Shelley was looking properly disheartened now, but I wasn¡¯t done yet. I pointed to the TV again, showing pictures of the LA sphere for the hundredth time. ¡°Three people are missing there, right? It¡¯s not ¡®missing¡¯, its ¡®dead¡¯, three dead people who didn¡¯t make it out like I did. Let me tell you, a lot more people are going to die over this before it''s over.¡± Shelley looks at me, a small shade of fear on her face. She whispers to me, ¡°How did you do it?¡± Time to throw out my last bomb. ¡°I killed Pesos immediately after we transferred after she tried to take me out.¡± I gesture to my throat. ¡°After that, the system told me I was the first to kill and gave me this class, inner light. It said it was the class best suited for the environment. If I had been given anything other than the skills I had been given, I would be dead and that¡¯s it.¡± She stares at me for a moment before sighing and tossing her pencil on the table. ¡°Dang, and I wanted to be an awesome magical swordswoman.¡± I give her a chuckle and look back at the TV, coverage on the spheres seemingly infinite. ¡°What¡¯s going to happen now?¡± ¡°I really don¡¯t know.¡± I watched the television mindlessly, wondering that same question myself. The newscasters were saying something now, looks like President Trump was going to make an address to the nation soon. I¡¯m surprised he didn¡¯t do it sooner, a strong show by the government to assure that everything is okay was needed in a time of crisis, even if it wasn¡¯t true. Already, there were sporadic reports of panicked or alarmed people looting or going crazy. Occult groups were making claims, different religious organizations putting out statements, small scale riots, but nothing too serious. All the crazy people out there just found the excuse they were looking for. Mom and Dad came back up stairs, followed closely by Lara. As soon as Mom saw me her mouth dropped into the ¡°O¡± position again. Oops, I left my hat off. Donning it quickly before Lara could see, I give them all a big smile and open my arms wide to Lara. She shuffles over quickly and I give her the biggest hug possible, swishing her around back and forth. ¡°Greg~¡± she calls out, struggling to get away. Once she is free, I ask about her week and get the usual response, barely understandable due to her strange accent. As a deaf girl, she speaks as you would expect one to speak. She didn¡¯t have her cochlear implant until after she was three, long after the usual age of learning languages. She was a smart girl but her ability to understand situations is poor since she has a difficult time hearing words unless they are spoken slowly and clearly. It''s frustrating and it doesn¡¯t help that she doesn¡¯t seem to care to exit her small bubble of understanding. We have to push her, all the time. I often wondered when/if I should heal her hearing, but that would be something I would need to discuss with Mom and Dad as well as her when there is time. Mom and Dad unilaterally gave her the cochlear implant but fixing her hearing completely is not something I can do without her consent. I give Mom a look and add, ¡°Can you help me shave my head? I can¡¯t go around looking like a lunatic or wearing a hat forever.¡± She nods, but doesn''t say anything. I can tell they both suspect I left out large portions of my tale to them. They are not dumb. Also, this whole hair thing sucks. My grandfather on my mother¡¯s side was bald at my age and I know my genetics lean heavily to that side of the gene pool. I have always have had thin hair and knew that going bald was in my future. I fear it won¡¯t grow back properly now even if I try to use heal on it. I just didn¡¯t want it to happen this early¡­ ¡­ I suppose I¡¯ll just compensate with a nice beard instead. My father was never able to grow a proper one, so I suppose that¡¯s a silver lining for me. Lara sits on my lap as we wait for President Trump to appear. Dad says after a moment, ¡°Your bed¡¯s ready, Greg.¡± I give him a nod of thanks and he turns to Shelley, ¡°Find out anything good?¡± Shelley shrugs, her previous enthusiasm gone. She says after a moment, ¡°This is insane, this whole thing is insane.¡± ¡­ I can¡¯t agree more. ¡°What are you going to tell Jonathan?¡± Mom asks, she and Dad standing around the living room, Dad¡¯s arms wrapped around her. ¡°The truth.¡± I say, looking back at her, ¡°As much as I can, at least.¡± ¡°How long are you staying here? You can spend the week here if you want, you¡¯ve got vacation days you¡¯ve been saving up, right?¡± Mom asks hopefully. Honestly, that sounds amazing. Free food and lodging. I¡¯d like nothing better to do that just that. ¡°I can¡¯t, I made a promise to go back tomorrow. A few skeletons made the trip back with me and hid out in the lake it the nature preserve. I had to call in the police to get them to watch it and they want to debrief me when I get back.¡± Mom¡¯s eyes bulge out at me as I realize I hadn¡¯t told them any of that yet. Another bombshell, I guess. ¡°You told the government about what happened!?!¡± Shelley practically shouts at me, ¡°What if they kidnap you, and torture you for information, experiment on you, or a hundred other things? You should have kept it a secret!¡± I snorted and answered, ¡°What government are you referring to, local, state, or federal? I called the local police because I was afraid the skeletons would harm people if they escaped. Other than the fact that evil needs to exist in a story, what possible motivation could normal people have to kidnap me? I offer what I know freely, to help them.¡± Shelley continues to stare at me, incensed and even Mom and Dad are looking at me worriedly. ¡°Look, I did keep a lot of my cards hidden anyway, they don¡¯t know about my powers. But these spheres need to be addressed and I can¡¯t sit back while people blindly tackle them, not when I can provide information that can help.¡± ¡°With great power comes great responsibility?¡± Shelley grumbles at me. I give her a stink eye. ¡°Don¡¯t ¡®spiderman¡¯ me. Besides, its just the local police I am dealing with. I voted for the sheriff, you know? He¡¯s Jessie¡¯s father, remember?¡± Granted, I didn¡¯t know Jessie very well, we went to school together, but that¡¯s it. Still, I met the Sheriff before and he seemed like a normal man, not a crazy supervillain. ¡°It will escalate quickly.¡± Shelley says darkly. ¡°Not that quickly.¡± President Trump appears before Shelley can retort again. ¡°My fellow americans,¡± the president says, using the phrase that every american president uses for these kind of speeches. ¡°Last night, not just America, but the whole world, has been attacked by these outlandish spheres.¡± I don¡¯t think its been confirmed that its an attack, but creating a common enemy is a good move for a politician. ¡°But don¡¯t you worry,¡± the president continues, using his language that only he can get away with as a president. He adds with his usual hand gestures, ¡°We have got the smartest people working on this problem tirelessly and I am happy to say that we already have a strong lead on the problem and a solution in mind. In another example of American leadership, I can tell you frankly that we have got intel that no other nation has yet and we will be sharing what we know with our allies in the world once something concrete has been confirmed. We will be able to wipe out the plague before it becomes too much of an issue. I can¡¯t tell you much more now due to national security, but I promise you that, soon, I will be able to share what we have with you. Trust me on this,¡± he adds, raising his hands with a smile as if he is holding some great secret, ¡°everything is well under control and within a month, everything that has happened today will be well in the past and America will be remembered as the great nation that led the world through this crisis. That is all, thank you very much.¡± As the president leaves the screen it leaves the anchors wondering along with the rest of the world what the president means and what he knows. ¡­ Short speech. ... I suppose that will leave the other nations, much less the world, screaming at President Trump, wanting to know exactly what he knows. He does like being at the center of attention. I think despite everything, President Trump is a good politician, despite my personal feelings about him. ¡°Just the local police?!¡± I hear Shelley growl next to me, her eyes flashing. I can feel a little sweat building up on my back. Perhaps it did escalate rather quickly. I lift Lara off of me and set her to the side. She¡¯s giving mom a questioning look and Mom comes in and tries to explain to her what is happening. ¡°He doesn¡¯t necessarily mean me.¡± I say, unconvincingly. ¡°He¡¯s got to calm the public with promises, even if he doesn''t have anything to back them up.¡± Shelley glares at me, but doesn¡¯t say anything. ¡°What are you going to do, Greg?¡± Dad asks, looking helpless. ¡°How am I supposed to protect you like this?¡± I don¡¯t know what to say. I don¡¯t want to hurt my father. ¡°It''ll be fine,¡± I stress, ¡°Nothing is going to happen to me. I¡¯ll give them the info they need and then they''ll send in their marines, and like the president said, a month from now, this will all be ancient history.¡± I stand up and continue, ¡°I¡¯m going to take a shower, and then sleep for the next few hours. I gave Officer Grant Mom¡¯s number, if they want to get a hold of me.¡± Dad looks back with fear and worry, and I can tell my words have done nothing to ease them. I don¡¯t know what else to do though, and I am exhausted. On that note, I did exactly what I said I would do. After the shower, I retreated to the basement. I feel bad that I am making my family worry so much, but I don¡¯t know what else to do. I suppose all will be told tomorrow when I am debriefed by whomever they send. Perhaps I¡¯ll keep my powers secret, but then again, they¡¯ll find out soon enough if they do send somebody into the spheres and besides, that kind of information is crucial to their survival and its all tied into the system anyway. ... I don¡¯t know. I really don¡¯t know what¡¯s best. I feel that the longer the spheres are allowed to grow, the more dangerous they will become. They need to be attacked fiercely and quickly. Deep inside of me, I am afraid for the human race should we fail. What if the sphere I was in killed me and finished its work, ultimately unleashing its undead armies onto the unsuspecting earth? That¡¯s not a force we could reckon with with bullets. Curses, disease, and magic. What if the other spheres are the same? I have no idea if they even work that way. Even now, I know so little about what we are facing. A day ago, all I wanted to be was where I am right now, safe and secure inside a comfy bed at my parent¡¯s house. But now, I feel the cold uncertainty rising up to strangle me. Oh God, where is this all going? ... My parent¡¯s cat jumps up on my bed, purring lightly at me and bashing her head against mine. I smile and scratch it, enjoying the friendly feline. This poor cat, Bella, had bad teeth, something genetic for her type of cat and has had to have all her teeth pulled. Now she lives a toothless life. ¡­ She¡¯s a good experiment for healing. Holding her close, I cast some healing on her with my halfway recuperated mana and watch as she hisses and struggles at the uncomfortable feelings in her mouth. Finally, she bites at me, her new teeth scraping my hand and I let her go. She bounds away and hisses at me, licking herself and pretending nothing happened. ¡­ She¡¯s such a cat. With a soft smile I close my eyes. At least there is some good that I can do. I slowly drift off to sleep. Chapter 22 ~ Consternation Despite the soft and comfortable blankets and sheets I was wrapped in and how tired I was, I did not sleep very well. Instead, I drifted in and out of the dreams, the type where you confuse reality and fantasy, where you know you are in some form of sleep, but the next second you are wrestling a small bear that somehow got into your living room. Periodically, I would wake up, half asleep still, wondering what was reality, before succumbing to the dreams again. Bottom line, it wasn¡¯t a very restful nap. When I woke up for good, wondering about the nature of reality and fantasy, my mind still tumbling from the confusing images and scenes, it was dark outside. I could still hear voices upstairs though, indicating it wasn¡¯t too late in the evening. With a groan I hefted myself up out of the wrangled sheets and moved on upstairs. While I was asleep, apparently my mother did get a call on her cell phone, asking for my immediate presence back at my home. Unfortunately for them, they got my mom on the line and not me. I would have probably folded like a lawn chair at the request, but mom can get feisty when she feels protective of her children. She basically told the guy off on the other end for being a horrible person to want me back so soon and flat out denied my return at all today. ¡­ Well, I hope it wasn¡¯t somebody too important on the other end. They did compromise and promised that I would return after lunch tomorrow. I don¡¯t want to know the exact words that fell between the two. I ate my fill again of my parents leftovers, and watched the news. There were no updates on the sphere¡¯s themselves, there were tons of speculation on what the president meant in his address to the nation, but the white house was being very tight lipped about it, even in the press conferences that were held afterwards. The press secretary was basically repeating herself, saying that they have a lead and are working on a solution. Everything else is classified. The press really didn¡¯t like those answers, and neither did several leaders of other nations who had gone on the air to denounce Trump¡¯s secrecy. They wanted him to share what information he had so that a universal solution could be worked on. Needless to say, all this commotion made be extremely anxious. I¡¯m surprised an ¡®escort¡¯ hasn¡¯t arrived yet to take me back. Other than that, the US military had blocked off access to the two spheres, forming a tight perimeter around each. This was after a group of five crazies bum rushed the sphere in LA and jumped into it. It looked really weird on the video the news was playing, each person getting sucked into the suddenly malleable membrane of the sphere, slowly, like in some horror movie. The sixth person chickened out and didn''t end up touching the sphere but instead got handcuffed and escorted away. I don¡¯t know what they were expecting on the other side, perhaps paradise? But they are dead now. I felt a little stricken at the scene but not too much considering their monumental stupidity. Also, the spheres were still growing in size. Eventually, I turn my back to the TV while munching on a hot dog. I¡¯ll probably learn everything relevant tomorrow anyway, the news is just making me depressed. ¡°How are you feeling?¡± Mom asks, sitting down next to me. ¡°Fine,¡± I say automatically, ¡°I didn¡¯t sleep very well, but I feel better anyway.¡± Mom doesn¡¯t reply, but stares at the TV before shaking her head, ¡°I still find it hard to believe. Where do they come from? What is their purpose?¡± I don¡¯t know if she is really looking for an answer or just asking herself. I don¡¯t know the answers either, that is for certain. There are, confirmed, eleven of the sphere¡¯s located around the globe now, in all sorts of random places. Several of them are located out on the oceans. Considering the surface area of the earth is mostly water, that doesn¡¯t really surprise me. It looks like the were placed randomly across the globe. ¡­ I suppose I killed the only person who could answer that for us. He didn¡¯t seem really keen on talking though. Soon, my family members went to bed and I stayed up, declining my mother¡¯s thoughtful offer of staying up with me. Dad gave me another big hug before he went off as well, asking me to tell them if I needed anything. I suppose this is one of those times where parents don¡¯t know what to do. That¡¯s got to be a tough feeling, knowing there isn¡¯t anything you can do to help your child. I told them that I just wanted their encouragement and support. That got another big squeeze from dad. I ended up staying up pretty late myself that night, the quiet peacefulness of the urban lake was soothing and the common loons were quite beautiful as they made their calls early in the night. Sitting in the big comfy chair in the living room, looking out of the big windows to the lake, I took the opportunity to thoroughly examine my retained abilities. Anything regarding the system was gone, no more blue boxes of any kind would appear and the identify skill seemed gone for good as well, no matter what I tried. My skills were still there though and worked just the same as they did inside the instance. At least, as far as I could tell. Casting barrier for the first time here was interesting, it was the skill I was the least familiar with. The ghostly rectangle appeared as it always did and I realized I could easily start pranking people with it, if I was childish enough. Which, I can be. I also tested out my edge skill on various objects. From my experiments, it really only works on objects that are meant for cutting, like kitchen knives. I could get pretty creative with certain edges, like the semi-sharp edge of an old pot lid, but for the most part, using edge on a non cutting object would result in just a normal flare. When I tried to use the skill on the edge of the dining room table, for instance, I ended up just covering the whole table in flare. I suppose that would have made it a holy table. I had kept the remains of the instance core with me too, and I made a careful inspection of it. There wasn¡¯t any response from it from anything I did with it though, it appeared to be exactly what it looked like, a bumpy white stone with a blood red spot in the middle. I missed my chance to use identify on it while I was still in the instance, but I had other pressing matters on my mind at the time. I¡¯m going to keep this for myself though, a trophy, if you will. God knows if I¡¯ll ever get my spear back. Other than that, as the night wore on into early morning, I spent my time wondering what on earth I was going to tell those people tomorrow. The truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help me God? Would they even believe me? If I expect them to send the marines into these spheres to try to destroy them, there isn¡¯t much I can leave out because, A, they¡¯ll just find out immediately after getting into a sphere themselves anyway, and B, the lack of info might just kill any and all attempts to destroy the spheres, not to mention the actual people sent in. There are already eight dead people now, in the US at least. How many more will die until this is over? Eventually, I feel sleepiness take over me and I return to my messy bed downstairs, Bella seeing fit to return and cuddle with me. It was another fitful sleep for the rest of the night. In the morning, father made waffles for all of us and we ate them at breakfast, all of us intentionally avoiding the topic of the spheres. Shelley looked to want to say some stuff to me, but apparently our parents asked her to avoid the topic for now. She chewed on her soggy waffles vengefully. We went to church together after that, which was an interesting experience. The paster wisely choose not make any hasty claims regarding the spheres during the service, just for us to trust in God. Very sensible I say, better than proclaiming that the end is nigh and the return of Jesus is coming soon like many other churches were saying. The return from church was just as quiet as the morning, each of us in our own thoughts. Lara asked me when I was returning to my home and gave me a frown when I said after lunch. I usually play some video games with her when I come over and I hadn¡¯t done that yet. Bring it girl, I¡¯ll take you on in smash bros. Shelley joined us downstairs too, getting beatdown by Lara¡¯s superior skills with me. Darn that girl! Gone are the days when I could casually destroy Lara, now I have to use dirty tricks just to say competitive, all the while Lara giggling at my futile efforts. Ah, the student overcomes the master. Shelley wasn¡¯t really into it though and eventually her goal became clear a few minutes into the gameplay with the parents not around. ¡°What are you going to tell them when you go home?¡± Shelley asks, after her character got flung into the sky and K.O.¡¯ed off the screen.This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. I don¡¯t respond for a moment, trying to fend off Lara¡¯s fierce attacks before she blows me away as well with Samas¡¯s plasma gun she had kept charged up. I hadn¡¯t put my shield up in time. ¡°Everything.¡± I eventually say. Shelley gives me an alarmed look and I continue, ¡°I decided this last night, I¡¯ll give them as much information as I can and get as much out of it as possible in return.¡± Shelley shakes her head as her character re-appears on screen, ¡°You better know what you are doing.¡± Hah, little does she know that I have no idea what I am doing. The joke¡¯s on her! I don¡¯t say that though. ¡°This isn¡¯t x-men, there aren¡¯t evil a-moral scientists that are going to kidnap me and ¡®experiment¡¯ on me. This is a crisis that I can consult on and provide them intelligence with. I¡¯m sure I¡¯ll get plenty of rewards in return. Money, that is. My house is ruined anyway, my bedroom is gone and I¡¯ll need to fix it.¡± After a moment, Shelley asks the obvious question, ¡°Where am I going to sleep tonight? I¡¯ve got classes tomorrow, you know?¡± ¡­ I don¡¯t know. Where am I going to sleep tonight? ¡°John¡¯s place?¡± I reply. He lives close to me and has an extra bedroom. Shelley should be able to temporarily stay there for now. Speaking of my twin, he supposed to come back today and pick up Pesos from me. Oh geez, I¡¯m going to have to give him a call. After Lara thoroughly kicks our butts we return upstairs for lunch, delicious grilled chicken sandwiches. Halfway through, Mom gets another call on her cell phone in which she acts as my agent, confirming my departure soon to whoever was on the line. After that, I borrowed her phone and called John to tell him the bad news. Thankfully, I got his voicemail and passed the task over to Mom with a smile to get her to tell him the bad news when he calls back. And to setup Shelley¡¯s sleeping arrangements tonight. Heh, heh, I got out of that one. Then I cleaned up my bed and loaded into my car to make the trip back to my house. I had no idea what to expect there, I didn¡¯t ask Mom who she had talked to and quite frankly I was scared to ask. During the uneventful hour long drive back I basically went through every worst case scenario in my head and scared myself into a small frenzy. I pulled into my neighbrohood drive in time to see my yard taken over by the military, with temporary shacks and trailers scattered around it and armed men in fatigues standing around and blocking off the end of the street. ... Maybe I should have brought a lawyer with me after all. I feel in over my head already. The end of the street has been blocked off, as my house is the only one at the end it doesn¡¯t seem to affect the neighbors too much. Looking at their houses as I coast by, I see they haven¡¯t been forced to vacate their homes, which I suppose is a good sign. There aren''t any news crews either, hanging about the perimeter, but I think that is only a matter of time. It¡¯s hard to hide all the activity around my house. As I approach the end of the street where the barricade is, one of the armed guards waive at me stop and approaches my window which I roll down, feeling a little sheepish. Maybe I shouldn''t have left so casually yesterday. ¡°Gregory Tyler?¡± the youthful face asks me. I just nod in response. ¡°The colonel is waiting for you.¡± he says, waiving me forward. He walks alongside me as I drive my car, the street is packed with people and objects so I have to drive slowly anyway. He eventually directs me to park on the lawn next to my house, my garage apparently has been acquired for other uses. I feel a little indignant about that, this is my place after all, I don¡¯t really recall giving them permission to camp out here. I suppose if they want to buy this plot from me I can negotiate¡­ A large white canvas has been erected over the stone vault as if to hide its presence from the outside world. I suppose interested researchers would give an arm and a leg to study the stupid thing. Frankly, I¡¯m surprised they hadn¡¯t just taken the blasted thing away with a crane or something yet, but I suppose the very dirt around it is from another world too, so whatever. I wonder how they would react if their tests just came back saying the stone vault is made out of just regular stone stuff and not some otherworldly material. I have no idea. As I get out of my car, I ask my escort, ¡°Who exactly are you people anyway? I guess I was expecting the National Security Agency, but you look like the army? I confess, I don¡¯t know much about how that works¡­¡± My escort gives me a slight chuckle as he leads me to a trailer parked in my lawn rather than inside my house. ¡°We are with the Military Intelligence Corps.¡± Oh. I wonder how many other agencies they had to muscle out in order to get this gig. I get led into a trailer and given a seat at a small table. I was offered some water which I gratefully accepted, my nervousness looking for something to do with my hands. My escort stayed outside the door of the trailer while the civilian looking people inside gave me curious glances as they continued their work. I didn¡¯t wait long at all until a stern and important looking man entered the trailer, giving me a once over and handing his tablet to his aid before coming to me. I stand up and he gives me a handshake. ¡°I¡¯m Colonel Beithal,¡± he says, motioning at me to sit back down, ¡°I¡¯m in charge of this field operation.¡± ¡°I¡¯m Greg,¡± I respond nervously. The colonel just stares at me in response, as if judging me and wondering if I was just a madman. Thankfully, dad helped me shave my head this morning, so I don¡¯t look insane anymore, just bald. The colonel speaks first, giving me a flat look, ¡°I¡¯ve gotten a part of your story from Officer Grant yesterday. Truth be told, it¡¯s unbelievable, but I suppose all of this is beyond reality now. This morning one of your skeleton friends came out of the lake like a goddamn horror flick. We captured it alive, only partly damaged. God knows how that blasted thing operates, I thought Keith was going to explode in excitement.¡± Who the hell is Keith? ¡°Which skeleton was it?¡± I ask, ¡°Was it just carrying a knife?¡± Colonel just gives me a look as if he can¡¯t believe what I am saying before he turns to his aid and grabs a recording device from her. He puts it on the table and turns it on, saying to me, ¡°I¡¯m recording this conversation, just so you know. Of course, all of this is classified as top secret. Can you say that again for the record?¡± I swallow hard and reply, ¡°There were five skeletons in the lake, three different types. One was an archer, three where armored types, and one was a scout type, that just had a knife with it.¡± ¡°Armored?¡± the colonel questioned, ¡°As in, covered with the various steel plating we have found in the vault and scattered across the preserve?¡± ¡°Yes. I assume you¡¯ve gathered them all up by now?¡± The colonel nodded his head. ¡°Indeed. I am curious, how did you cut the steel like that? Officer Grant says you did it with that spear, and while our limited tests on the object show that it is an extraordinary object, it doesn¡¯t have nearly the cutting potential you and Officer Grant claims it has. Can you activate it again for us?¡± Huh. I reply with a nod and a moment later my beautiful spear is brought before me again. I stand up and take it while the colonel eyes me like a hawk. A moment later and I cast edge on it, the tip lighting up like a lamp in the trailer. I waive it around a little for people to see. ¡°How did you do that?¡± the colonel demands. I shrug and reply, canceling my skill, ¡°Magic.¡± ¡°Oh god above,¡± the colonel says, rubbing his forehead, and only rolling his eyes a little. ¡°Magic?¡± I give another shrug. ¡°I don¡¯t know what else to call it. How do you think those skeletons operate?¡± He doesn¡¯t answer but gestures to one of his men again, clearly indicating me to give up the spear. ¡°Not so fast,¡± I say, feeling less brave than I sound. ¡°This is my spear. I¡¯ve gone through hell and had to kill hundreds of zombies and skeletons to get it and its saved my life. Also, this is my house, and my stone vault on my property. I am, of course, willing to help as much as I can in this time of national crisis, but I am not going to be bulldozed. Do you understand? I am an american citizen with rights, after all.¡± The colonel rolls his eyes at my words, much to my annoyance. ¡°Don¡¯t get your panties in a bunch,¡± the colonel says ruthlessly, ¡°You¡¯ll be well taken care of if you can help us as much as you think. But this is beyond you, and it¡¯s beyond me; national security is at stake. Give us the damned spear for now.¡± With only a little hesitation, I give it back and sit back down. I suppose that went well. After a tense moment, the colonel asks, ¡°What¡¯s the purpose of the sphere¡¯s? Who¡¯s behind them?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± I say, much to the consternation of the colonel. I continue after another moment, ¡°When I was inside the sphere, there was a person there managing it. He was expanding it, building up his troops, creating a huge palace, and coordinating the instance as a whole. I wasn¡¯t able to communicate with him and he was very intent on killing me. I don¡¯t know what he was building the space for, but it wasn¡¯t for himself. I believe he expected another party to come and take over once he completed his work. Before he finished though, I killed him and destroyed the sphere.¡± ¡°Instance?¡± I shake my head at the question, ¡°While I was inside, the space I was in was called an instance dungeon. I had no idea where I was, as far a I knew, the whole thing could have been a wild illusion or some form of purgatory. It wasn¡¯t until I destroyed the core and was brought back here that I put two and two together.¡± ¡°These, ¡®instances¡¯ are a threat, you think?¡± ¡°Extremely so. The missing people in LA are certainly dead. Inside my sphere I had spent a little over a week, but when I escaped, little to no time had passed here. That suggests some sort of time dilation inside.¡± I see the colonel mouth the phrase time dilation, but I ignore it. ¡°If the other spheres are the same, months if not years have passed with those people inside. I doubt they could survive that long inside a hostile environment.¡± ¡°You mentioned troops, is it an invasion?¡± ¡°It could be, I really don¡¯t know. The manager I mentioned didn¡¯t speak english, or any language I recognized, so I couldn¡¯t communicate with him. In fact, I don¡¯t think he was human.¡± The colonel isn¡¯t stupid. I can tell he understands what I am saying, he is just having trouble getting the look of disbelief off of his face. I clear my throat and say, ¡°The sphere¡¯s represent a clear and present danger and they are more dangerous the more time they are given to grow. They must be entered and destroyed before they get too big. I don¡¯t know what consequences will come should the sphere¡¯s be allowed to mature completely, but I promise you it will be bad.¡± I see the Colonel scoff a little and say, ¡°By your own admission, these creatures are armed with spears, swords, and arrows. Surely, a threat for an unarmed man, but for a real response by trained soldiers? I hardly see your point, Greg.¡± I nod and add, ¡°You are right, the weapons they used were antiquated. If I had guns and modern weaponry with me it would have made my time there so much easier. But there is more to the spheres than that. Like I said, there is magic.¡± I let that statement stand before continuing. ¡°Inside the sphere they are many things trying to kill me, not to mention the skeletons and zombies, the very bacteria in the air infected you and would kill anybody within three hours with leacherouse growths. There were also multitude of small venomous animals and insects trying to kill you, diseases and curses. Not to mention, the manager there was a magician that could cast spells that could kill. I would have died hundreds of times over if not for my own magical abilities.¡± After they digested my words, the colonel said in a defeated voice, ¡°perhaps you¡¯d better just start at the beginning.¡± I nod and considered how to do so. After a moment I ask. ¡°Do you know what a role playing game is?¡± Chapter 23 ~ Thanks for Caring Telling my story was tough, and it didn¡¯t help having ten people crowd around me and listen intently. There was a lot of stuff I would have been perfectly happy not ever thinking about again and dragging up some of the horrors in front of this intimidating group wasn¡¯t what I wanted to do the day after I got back. I knew when I decided to tell all that it would be hard, but it was even more difficult than I imagined. I guess I had unconsciously blocked out some stuff. I painted a grim picture, to be sure, if the looks of my audience were anything to go by. At first they assailed me with incredulous and challenging, if not just plain disbelieving, questions. I expected resistance, though, so when they got dismissive of my claims I edged a kitchen knife and remorselessly and effortlessly sliced a huge gash through the wall of the trailer. I admit, I relished their looks of stupidity immensely. Besides, I had living, animated skeletons on my side, what more do I need? It wasn¡¯t until I broke through the healthy skepticism that what I was saying really kicked in and they started asking the real questions. The colonel in particular seemed to have the best grasp of the situation, asking for clarifications on the existence of skills and classes. He, at least, was familiar with games in general. Many of the questions I didn¡¯t have good answers to. Are the magical skills dependent on having a class? Or can skills be gotten without one? What are the prerequisites on obtaining classes? Prerequisites on even interacting with the system? Are skills needed to kill, maim, or neutralize, are can conventional methods be used? Is the system an interested party in all this or a dispassionate third party existence, whether sentient or not? ¡­ I didn¡¯t know and I told them so. If I had to guess, I¡¯d say the system was a third party existence. It didn¡¯t seem to favor the mage or I, besides giving me this class. That said, the mage seemed to understand the system better than I. As my tale went on, the questions became less frequent and the faces became more grave. And as I was talking, the subtle truth that had been there, nagging at the corner of my mind ever since I first saw the inscrutable grey spheres on the TV, but that I had refused to entertain, was slowly burdening me like a crane dropping its payload. The realization scared me. For all the military might the US Army could drop onto the stage, they won¡¯t be able to stop this without my participation. ¡­ Or they can just send the nukes in. I like that plan, just throw a nuke into the sphere a let it blow, that¡¯ll surely kill everything inside and destroy the core. Perhaps there¡¯s a chance of a nuclear fallout, but only the tiny bit that gets dragged back around the core, assuming that it even behaves the same as mine. So, I¡¯m sticking with the nuclear option, no curse is going to stop that. ... I finished my story by telling them how I killed off the mage and destroyed the core, inadvertently bringing back the surrounding area and the pursuing skeletons with me. In the end, I decided against telling them I still had the remains of the core. There was a heavy silence when I was done. Many of the people were writing down data on their tablets or notepads. The way they were looking at me had changed drastically during the story and I¡¯m not sure what I was seeing now. Pity? Fear? Respect? Disbelief? I wasn¡¯t sure, maybe all the above. I grabbed the water bottle off the table, I don¡¯t like uncomfortable silences. The colonel broke in, leaning back in his creaking chair with a frown. ¡°Tell me more about the curse that came each day.¡± I chugged the last of the water bottle, my throat feeling a little horse from the non-stop talking. After that I shrugged. ¡°Thankfully, a loud notification sounded each night when it came because if I slept through it, I would have died each time. I wasn''t able to learn much about it, whether it was part of the setting like the bacteria was or if it was something the mage specifically cast on me, but I presume it was the former. All it said was that I would die in five minutes if I didn¡¯t remove it. It became much less of a problem as my mana reserves grew, becoming just an annoyance by the end. At least it gave me time to cleanse the area around me each night to hold off the infection.¡± ¡°You had to, uh, cleanse it, each time, though?¡± I simply nodded and added, ¡°The infections were a much bigger problem, I couldn¡¯t even take a deep breath without getting infected. It acted like a debuff, really, slowly me down and consuming time and resources. The zombies were walking bioweapons, I¡¯m lucky the temple was sterilized, otherwise I fear I might have brought the infection back here with me. I about panicked when I thought of that at first and I cleansed everything I could get my hands on.¡± ¡°How do you know that you didn¡¯t bring any with you?¡± one of the adjuncts said, wiping her short black hair out of her eyes, a very worried look on her face. I gave her a joyless chuckle, ¡°If I did bring some back with me, you¡¯d all be dead already.¡± I expected her to flinch or pale at my response, but I was disappointed that she took it without any reaction. Good for her. ¡­ Maybe she thought I was exaggerating or just outright lying? That¡¯s for them to determine, I guess. Q and A lasted another hour as I attempted to answer tougher and tougher questions, most of which I did not have any, much less good, answers for. As they say, the more you know, the more you realize how much you don¡¯t know. No decisions were made, it was only a fact finding mission after all. When the debriefing was officially over I asked to see the detained skeleton they had, assuming it was near. After a shrewd glance, the colonel gave me a nod. ¡°Keith said he¡¯d like to talk with you anyway.¡± the colonel said casually, turning to his adjunct. ¡­ Who is this Keith? As I got escorted to the detention trailer a few hundred feet away, I wondered if any prisoner of war codes apply to the skeletons. Would they be considered human or treated as dangerous animals? Interestingly enough, it turned out it was a question Keith had for me. Keith was a funny guy, a man in his forties with long blond hair pulled back into a ponytail and large thick glasses. He wasn¡¯t wearing the white lab coat like I expected, but he had the excited eyes a crazy scientist would need. I liked him immediately and his enthusiasm was infectious. After a brief introduction, his first question was simple. ¡°Is this guy intelligent enough to communicate with us?¡± Keith guestured excitedly, his hand indicating the skeleton locked away. I looked over at the locked up pile of bones. They had disarmed and confined the skeleton in a small, reinforced room with a glass like wall letting us stare into the depths. A portable cell, I should say. The skeletons never displayed anything like super human strength, so it looked secure enough for me. For the most part, the skeletons appeared exactly as they looked, murderous walking bones as brittle and harmless as they could be seen without their knives. Before the army decided to go all mad scientist on it, I guess they wanted to know if it was communicable. After staring at the detained skeleton, missing one arm and looking for all the world, depressed and lonely, I answered Keith slowly, ¡°I never thought of them like that. They certainly can be sneaky bastards, constantly jumping out at me, trying to kill me, but I don¡¯t think they can talk.¡± Keith gave me a quizzical, non-judgemental look. ¡°You never tried to negotiate with them?¡± For some reason, the question made me angry. I just nodded at him, staring at the lone skeleton. ¡°A pity, then. From what I can tell so far, they seem to have a sense of self awareness. At least this one does.¡± Self awareness? I shake my head at the words. ¡°I¡¯ve never considered them more than just a ¡­¡± I search for the right words, ¡°virus, or computer program. Like a machine, or robot. They are just programmed to do what they are created to do, I saw them literally get summoned out of thin air. They are not alive.¡± Keith actually chuckled at my last words. ¡°You¡¯ll get no argument from me on that, all of my testing indicate that there is no living tissue, they really are just bones. He should be lying there in a heap, not sitting up. There is nothing on any instrument whatsoever that can tell me why it''s moving. I guess it really is magic.¡± He gave another lifeless chuckle. Magic, huh? ¡°I guess you¡¯ll just have to invent a new device that can detect mana,¡± I said, scratching my chin, ¡°I know it exists here, I can feel it.¡± Keith eyes bulged out at my words and he stepped closer to me, asking quickly, ¡°You can sense the magic?¡± ¡­ Maybe I shouldn¡¯t have said anything. Keith is freaking me out now, I think I just stepped on the path toward being strapped down and injected with needles. ¡°Just inside my body,¡± I say, taking a step back and feeling a cold sweat on my back. Wanting to distract him, I add quickly, ¡°I know the skeletons communicate with each other somehow, they act too coordinated otherwise.¡± Keith snapped back to the skeleton, pulled up a tablet furiously, ¡°You really think so? Have you heard the skeletons make any sounds?¡± ¡°One of them, yes. It was a leader type skeleton, he would roar at me. This one here,¡± I said, pointing at the sad sack of bones, ¡°was just a peon. These types were sneaky bastards, my first night there two of them snuck into my room and tried to kill me.¡± ¡°There was a hierarchy?¡± Keith inquired, his eyes bright again. ¡°That indicates a lot, you know!¡± I wondered if his interest lay in the social study of these beings. Not my cup of tea. Still wanting to distract Keith, I gave him as much as info I could, including the zombies too. If nothing else, my words seem to encourage Keith that communication would be possible with the skeletons. After all, they showed strategic decision making skills and could communicate with each other on some level, if only through hand gestures. ¡°We need to get the other skeletons in the lake,¡± Keith said passionately, ¡°and see how they interact with each other! It could be a clue to figuring out how to talk to these things!¡± Do the skeletons have some sort of culture? This guy seems interested to find out. Somebody has to, I guess. I didn¡¯t respond, but considered the immobile skeleton before me. Why had this skeleton left the lake to begin with, what was it looking for? Was the group just lost and confused like I was, or did they have a broader plan? ... I don¡¯t know. Once I was done with Keith, I was taken back to my house where they had some paperwork for me to sign that cleared up some of the details of my cooperation here. I was to be a contracted consultant for them, the ol¡¯ 1099.. This included granting me temporary clearance to the sensitive data here as well as a type of non-disclosure agreement regarding the military secrets. It was my secret to tell them actually, but I didn¡¯t point out that detail.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. They told me they contacted my family already and informed them of the classified nature of this as well. Basically, if they told anyone, anything, there would be trouble. Lots of trouble. Their compensation package was generous, to say the least, so I didn¡¯t begrudge them taking over my house in the end. The stupid vault thing was here anyway, but I¡¯m glad they chose to keep me as a friend. Still, I carefully inspected the conditions as best as I could, paying particular attention to my rights and my property. I wish I brought a Lawyer. ¡­ It seems they want me to agree to give up all the items I brought back from the otherworld for good. They can keep the vault and the armor, but I am not letting go of that spear. That¡¯s just not going to fly. So I kicked up a fuss, namely refusing to sign anything until that issue was resolved. Yeah, that¡¯s my spear. The paperpushers didn¡¯t appreciate that, one guy shamelessly declaring I should forfeit all my rights to anything here as my patriotic duty. Apparently, they ¡°needed¡± it, for study. I told that guy to shove it. The colonel ended up getting involved, not asking any questions but directly taking the offending article, modifying and initialling it himself before sliding it back to me without a word and taking off again, like a whirlwind. ¡­ Busy guy. I took up the parchment gingerly and read over the new verbiage. It now read in no uncertain terms that I owned the spear and was only lending it to the US Army for study and I had full rights to claim it back and would receive it within forty-eight hours of written notice. Also should the spear be lost, damaged, or destroyed while it''s in the possession of the US Army it would result in a significant amount of remuneration. ¡­ Nice. Basically, I was satisfied and the slimy skrewball was aghast and indignant. With a malicious grin I signed with a flourish and handed the document back. Though, I suppose with this kind of compromise off the colonel¡¯s part it suggests a level of direness I¡¯m not comfortable with entertaining. A few follow up questions and documents later and they let me go for the night. They gave me a nice new phone too, with strict instructions to keep it on me at all times and not to use it for personal use. My first work phone, Yay. They set me up in a hotel that night, after I had taken a bunch of dirty clothes with me. I did have work at the office tomorrow, afterall. In the hotel, I took the opportunity to call John from the hotel room. Mom had written down for me all the numbers I needed until I could replace my phone, including my twin¡¯s. After ringing a couple times, he picked up. ¡°Hello?¡± Hearing his voice, I felt a warmth spread through me, like the feeling of the cleansing skill. He is my closest friend after all. ¡°John, it¡¯s me, Greg.¡± ¡°Bro! I heard from Mom, how are you doing!¡± He seems oddly happy. What did Mom tell him? ¡°Fine,¡± I say automatically, ¡°All things concerning. Look, John, what did Mom tell you?¡± There was a pause on the other end, before an upbeat response, ¡°Just that you saved the world, what else could I expect from you?¡± I roll my eyes and answer with a sigh, ¡°Don¡¯t thank me yet, it¡¯s far from over.¡± John didn''t respond to that so I just continued, rubbing my forehead, ¡°Did Mom tell you about Pesos? I wanted to say-¡± ¡°It¡¯s fine,¡± John interrupts quickly, ¡°it''s fine, don¡¯t beat yourself up about it, okay? Its fine.¡± Whew, that¡¯s nice. What a load off my back. ¡°Still, I¡¯m sorry, I just wanted to say that. I¡¯m sorry I couldn¡¯t save her.¡± There was silence again before John said back, ¡°Hey, Pesos was a good dog, but she was starting to get old. If the price for your safe return was her life, then that¡¯s more than fair, Greg. Like I said, don¡¯t beat yourself up about it.¡± ¡°How much do you know?¡± I hear John sigh on the other end, ¡°not much, the gag order came down rather quickly, so I got only the sparse details.¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± I reply dryly, ¡°I just signed a bunch of papers too, felt like I signed my first born away. I can¡¯t talk about it either. Not until it¡¯s over at least.¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± John replys halfheartedly. Then it¡¯s quiet between us. ¡°How was Utah?¡± I ask, filling up the silence. John replies with the usual enthusiasm, describing their trip. The hiking and what not. They even had some cute pictures of their newborn in a backpack carrier on top of the hill range at sunset. As crazy as always. Eventually he says everything he can about the trip and I ask all the right questions. At the end of the conversation I ask about Shelley, making sure she is okay for the night. ¡°Oh, yeah,¡± he says, ¡°No problem. We got her bed all set up, she should be arriving soon, actually.¡± I know its more problematic than he is letting on, but he wouldn¡¯t ever say that. ¡°I should have my house back, eventually,¡± I say. I have no idea when though, the papers didn¡¯t specify. There was even a clause about them potentially purchasing the thing from me. If they do end up taking the stone vault away they had better build me a new room there. ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s fine. The world¡¯s going crazy, so what¡¯s a little inconvenience?¡± I don¡¯t know what to say to that so I just grunt in acknowledgement. ¡°Hey, listen,¡± John adds, his voice turning serious, ¡°Mom¡¯s worried about you.¡± I scoff at that. ¡°Mom¡¯s always worried about me.¡± ¡°True, but she¡¯s so worried, I¡¯m worried about you. What you¡¯ve been through, Greg, that¡¯s serious stuff. She knows you left out a lot, Shelley told her some.¡± That little traitor. See if I ever feed you again. ¡°I know you had reasons for keeping it out, but we both know you are the type to bottle up your feelings. Mom asked me to keep tabs on you.¡± I don¡¯t know how to take that. I look away and say, ¡°Its not that bad, I can handle it.¡± ¡°... just promise me you¡¯ll let me know if it gets worse, you hear me?¡± I feel a little anger suddenly rise up. What does he know? What could he possibly say if I actually tried to talk about it? Seriously? I grit my teeth and don¡¯t say anything. Then I take a deep breath and try to let it go. He¡¯s trying to be a loving and supportive brother. I can tell he¡¯s thinking about our cousin who committed suicide. I am now, too. After a moment, I say, ¡°I¡¯ll let you know, John. Thanks for caring.¡± ¡°You betcha!¡± he says happily, probably relieved I took his words so well. ¡°You just keep safe, Greg, and let the army figure this out.¡± ¡°Ha!¡± I say, ¡°Considering my healing skills, I¡¯m the safest person on the planet right now!¡± There was a pause on the other end until I hear a confused, ¡°What?¡± ¡­ Crap! I guess Mom didn¡¯t tell him that part. Blast, I¡¯m already violating my agreements! I try to laugh it off, ¡°Oh, nothing, bro. Listen you have a good night, I¡¯ve got to go.¡± After a suspicious goodbye, we hang up for the night. And I sit on my bed in thought. ¡­ What are the chances my phone is not tapped? Probably nil. ... Crap, I hope they don¡¯t hold this against me. I lay down on the bed with a groan, reflecting on the day. Did I do it all right? Did I mess anything up? Should I have done things differently? ... Am I monumentally screwed over now? ¡­ I don¡¯t know. I suppose that, one way or another, the information I knew needed to be disclosed. Being upfront and honest about it rather than being found out after a bunch of people died is a big plus in my favor. ¡­ Let the army figure it out, that¡¯s what John said. My mom said something similar this morning too, but I can¡¯t stop thinking about it. The US army is the most powerful military force in the world. A single tank, a bomb, a blackhawk helicopter, if I had had any kind of modern tech (and new how to use it) the instance dungeon would have been a walk in the park. The colonel was correct, their antiquated weapons were nothing in front of the force of our military might. If I were the army, I¡¯d just send a nuke into the sphere and let it do its thing. And even if it didn¡¯t work, the army is full of smart, highly qualified people, people who surely know more and better than me. I¡¯m just a billing clerk at a trucking company. Like John said, let the army figure it out. ¡­ ¡­ But will it really be so easy? No, it won¡¯t be, and I¡¯m the one who made the argument. Magic, we have no defense against it. If the other spheres are anything like the one I was in, anybody sent in will be dead in five minutes. ¡­ As I lay back in my soft springy bed, the obvious conclusion hovers over me like a haunting spirit. I¡¯m going to have to go back in. ¡­ Hopefully I can get a Ak-47 or something. Or just a huge tank. I can see the temple crumbling beneath the firepower already. ... Pray for the nukes, I guess. Just blow the damned spheres off the face of the earth. Sounds reasonable to me. Looking around my room, the pale bland walls and bedding seem alien, hostile, and foreign to me. I much prefer the fold out couch in my parent¡¯s basement, it lets me feel like things are more normal than they really are. That said, its a billion times better than any bed in the instance, so I can¡¯t complain too much. I didn¡¯t sleep well that night either, restless dreams chased me around and I woke up constantly, wondering what the hell was going on. The next morning I shower and have my continental breakfast provided by the hotel. I answer the text from my ¡®parole officer¡¯ at the military, Jeffery. He was introduced to me as Lieutenant Jeffrey and he¡¯s going to be keeping track of me during my work with the army, working as my liaison. I don¡¯t mind too much, Jeffery seems like a normal guy given a completely reasonable job. At least he¡¯s not calling me. I confirm my plans, I do plan on trying to go back to work at my trucking company in the billing office today. Already I looks loads better than just two days ago, but my shaved head will be a shock to the old ladies there. I¡¯m not looking forward to answering their inquiries, but I want the routine. I¡¯d like to pretend, for just a moment at least, that things are normal, thank you very much. Lieutenant Jeffery made it clear that he was more than willing to call my office and get me out of work that day, but I declined. My co-workers reaction when I stepped in were just what I expected, worse so actually, especially Sue who just can¡¯t believe the changes to my physical appearance in just one weekend. A shaved head is one thing. The malnourished look is another. Sue looks horrified and can hardly speak to me at all, probably wondering if she should even ask about it. What horrible drugs had I gotten into? The non-stop astonishment from my co-workers are really messing with my groove here. I came for routine, not to be gawked at. Even worse, the work on my desk feels like it''s from a lifetime ago and I can barely recall any details about it. The files have my normal notes on them, perfectly understandable before but now hopelessly incoherent. Why on earth can¡¯t I write clearer notes? My confusion at my own work only increases Sue¡¯s alarm and I can see her looking at me like I just decided to pick up hardcore drugs and gambling as my pastimes of choice. ¡­ Maybe I should have taken the day off. Most of those troubles go away by mid-morning, they stop pestering me about what on earth happened to me and instead simmer and gossip amongst each other about the possibilities. Sue seems particularly adamant though, desperately trying to get me to talk about it. Fending her off is quite troublesome, I practically have to yell at her to leave me alone, which isn¡¯t fair to the caring lady and only increases her anxiety. Too bad, I am low on patience today. And this work is annoying, not relaxing at all. ... The last issue dawned on me slowly during the afternoon as I considered my co-workers in a new light. ¡­ Who knew so many of them had so many medical issues? Sue seems healthy, but Robin claims to have gluten intolerance. Three co-workers have had knee replacements in the last year, two from obesity, one from too much exercise. A third of my office is diabetic, one person is basically living off half a kidney and a mouthful of beans could kill her. One had heart surgery a year ago and is still in danger of it happening again but won¡¯t quit his stressful job here because he has a mentally disabled child who needs the support. One¡¯s wife has cancer and two other coworkers have had breast cancer in the last five years. One of the ladies has horrible scarring on her upper back that I have noticed from occasionally but never asked about. And last and worst, the owner¡¯s seventeen year old daughter who comes in from time to time had been suffering from painful headaches and jaw trouble for the last five years which she had blamed on her past braces. She¡¯s just a kid though and no diagnosis had been found until this past month. Turns out, her jaw has been dislocated this entire time, grinding down her jaw bones and now even threatening to collapse her esophagus. She has permanent damage, no real cure, chronic pain, and is forced to wear a weird neck brace thing at night forever more. ... Is this normal? Why are there so many ailing people in my office? Over half of them have got serious troubles. And that¡¯s not to mention our actual workforce of drivers who haul household goods for a living. Since they use their bodies to make money, there is not a single one who hasn''t had surgery for some major issue, heart, knee, back, you name it. One guy literally ripped his bicep this summer and his arm has been out of commission for months. ¡­ Is this what life really is? It¡¯s no wonder the healthcare industry is so huge. ... None of this is new information to me, but suddenly these realizations are daunting and scare the crap out of me. I¡¯m kind of freaking out over here. What would it look like to heal all these people? It would be chaos! But there are so many people who I could help, people in real pain, people I care about. And it would be easy, too easy. ¡­ What the heck am I supposed to do? I spent the rest of the afternoon entirely unproductive, my mind reeling. Eventually I decide on my tried and true method of dealing with paralyzing issues. Ignore it, maybe it will go away on its own! The day ends and I try to hurry home. I can¡¯t help but feel guilty. I got a text from Jeffrey, Keith apparently wants to see me and discuss the skeletons some more. Good, maybe it will help me take my mind off my troubles. Chapter 24 ~ SP-151, or Spirit, if you will. Keith wasn¡¯t alone in the prisoner trailer this time, he had some help in the form of two young researchers, one a short broad man with wire rim glasses and another a tall woman with long black hair. Additional equipment had been brought in too, littering the trailer and making it very cramped except for the skeleton who still had the same space afforded to him. I had no idea what the equipment was doing, but it felt like a hospital room in there, the two helpers only giving me a glance as I came in before turning their attention back to their work. Whatever they were doing, it must have been very interesting. They didn¡¯t have the same blazing passion Keith had, but they seemed pretty excited nonetheless. As soon as I entered, Keith greeted me by shouting my name enthusiastically and grabbing my hand to drag me forward. ¡°Greg! I¡¯m so glad you came.¡± He practically yelled, pulling me up to the glass like yesterday to look at the lonesome skeleton. I reluctantly let him and focused on the scene he eagerly wanted to showcase to me. ¡­ It was pretty bizarre. A large television had been set up inside and was playing teletubbies, the bright lights and characters contrasting with the somber naked skeleton. I could hear the muffled sounds coming through the wall, clearly the television was playing rather loudly. The skeleton was paying it no mind though and instead was staring straight at me, proud and focused, a big difference from the depressed skeleton of yesterday. I could see a murderous intent in his hollow sockets, the shadows dancing with the flashes of color from the screen. I swallow hard and ask, ¡°Why are you playing teletubbies to it?¡± I sense Keith lean in next to me to get a look at the TV as well. After a moment he looks back and asks, ¡°Charles?¡± Charles was already up and on his way over, moving around the tables. ¡°Right,¡± Charles said with a grunt, moving up next to me with a tablet in his hand. ¡°We were testing the skeleton¡¯s audio and visual receptors. We wanted to see what kind of stimuli he reacted to. These kids shows are meant to stimulate kids with the colors and sounds, it was perfect material.¡± I decided not to comment on the absurdity of it, but accept the cold hard logic of data crunchers. ¡°What did you find out?¡± I asked curiously. Charles shrugged, ¡°It¡¯s hard to give any conclusive answers, but so far the skeleton has shown zero reaction to the television. It might as well not exist, it seems. Considering it doesn¡¯t have eyes or ears, that makes sense, but¡­¡± I roll my eyes and finish his sentence, ¡°Then how is it looking at me?¡± Charles gives me a grin. ¡°Of course, the answer is magic.¡± Keith interjected, taking the tablet from Charles for a second to look at a data point. He looks at me and continues with a smile, ¡°But just because it''s magic, doesn¡¯t mean it''s unfathomable. I¡¯m not going to write off all of our questions with just the notation, ¡®its magic¡¯. I won¡¯t be able to tolerate it, not to mention my boss would fire me on the spot.¡± He gave out a loud laugh at his last words. I give Keith a grimace, ¡°what can you do then?¡± ¡°First of all we can describe, ¡° Keith replied easily, pointing at the skeletons. ¡°What does it do? What are its effects? Are there consistent reactions towards certain variables? It¡¯s only a surface level look at the problem, but once we do that we can start limiting what it can do, understanding the boundaries of what we are seeing. Then we can start defining it and try to understand it.¡± ¡°You really think you can do that? There must be so many different things you don¡¯t know, how can you even begin to try to do that?¡± ¡°Observing is easy,¡± Keith replied good naturedly, ¡°we can record tons of data from just that and start drawing some conclusions. As for the rest,¡± he added motioning over to the last person in the trailer. She looks up at us at the attention, ¡°Clarissa here decided our method on proceeding forward.¡± At the clear cue, Clarissa replied brightly, ¡°I read the transcript of your debriefing and was struck by the system you described. Like you said, in so many ways it functioned similarly to the games we have. The structure we have in our games are programs, lines of codes, and algorithms that make up the game and control the universe created inside of it. Programmers can make the games do practically anything inside, but its all bound to and limited to the programing and logic. For instance, the amount of mana you had increasing 20% at each level up. We should be able to deduce the structure of the phenomenon if its built up with logic at its core.¡± ¡­ I couldn¡¯t have said it better myself. ¡°It¡¯s basically the same thing you did with your own abilities,¡± Keith replied happily, seeing my confused face, ¡°but with not so many words. You were able to grasp the limits of your own magical abilities through experimentation and find the logic of the system in order to solve your way out of the problem. We¡¯ll just do something similar. For example,¡± he said, facing the skeleton again, ¡°Skully here can see us perfectly despite this being a one way mirror. What does that suggest to you?¡± ¡­ It means he¡¯s not seeing with eyes like we understand them to work. No refracting light for him. If we are going to stick to game explanations, then he probably using some sort of soul sight. It would explain why he¡¯s not interested in the silly bouncy teletubbies. ... Magic, like I said. But not omniscient magic. I know they can¡¯t see me when I am further away, only the blasted zombies could do that. But close by these creatures had omnidirectional sight. ¡°Skully?¡± I ask instead, making my voice as incredulous as possible. ¡°You realize this creature would murder you at first opportunity. You shouldn''t get attached to it.¡± ¡°That¡¯s what I said,¡± Charles added, with a scowl. ¡°Please~,¡± Keith, replied, waiving it off, ¡°At my father¡¯s farm we would name all the little piglets in the spring, then butcher them and eat them gladly in the fall. Besides, as interesting as all this is, this is not why I asked you over here. Do you notice anything different about Skully today?¡± Deciding to follow Keith¡¯s whims, I study Skully for a few moments. Then I shake my head. ¡°Besides looking four hundred percent more evil today, no, he looks just the same.¡± ¡°His right arm has grown back two centimeters!¡± Keith bursts, as if christmas had come early. I look back and sure enough, it looks like his arm has grown back a little. Wow, two whole centimeters. Woopidoo. I give Keith an unimpressed look. ¡°What?!~I thought you would be interested in that, your report mentioned nothing like that in it.¡± ¡°All of our fights were to the death,¡± I replied irritably. ¡°I never left wounded alive if I could help it. Only that bastard guardian skeleton appeared to have healed; I thought it was the mage that had healed it. But now you are telling me these things are self repairing? Why would that make me happy? It just means the skeletons in that lake probably aren¡¯t going to degrade down there, but remain a public menace until we can fish them out. It''s not amazing at all. It¡¯s just magic.¡± I flare up my hand, its golden light illuminating the small room. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the skeleton flinch back and look away. All three people stare at my hand with different expressions, Charles with wariness, Clarissa with squinting skepticism, and Keith with an eyebrow raised curiosity. Keith says after moment, still staring at my hand, ¡°you are taking the phenomenon for granted already. Remember, the rest of us are just mere mortals.¡± The comment leaves me feeling oddly punctured. After a moment, I dispel my flare and clear my throat. I want to go back home, back to my bed. I feel exhausted, it doesn''t help I haven¡¯t been able to sleep well. ¡°Was there anything else you wanted, other than to show me Skully?¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± Keith replied, perhaps sensing the sudden awkwardness in the room and jumping at the chance of a change of topic. ¡°We have some more questions, if you have time?¡± He motioned to Charles who handed him another tablet, apparently filled with questions they had prepared for me. ¡°Sure¡± I reply with a sigh, taking the seat pulled out for me. Clarissa hands me a water bottle which I gratefully take. I have a feeling this might take a while. Another recorder is placed on the table. In contrast to my interrogation yesterday, this one was much more friendly and primarily focused on the skeletons and my experiences with them. It seemed they were still focused on trying to interrogate Skully. I thought it was a useless effort and told them so, but they were undeterred. ¡°Your ill-disguised but understandable hatred for them notwithstanding,¡± Keith had said, ¡°The skeletons were capable of following orders, and even issuing orders, in the case of the guardian skeleton. Didn¡¯t you say that the guardian and the ¡®mage¡¯ conversed with each other?¡± ¡°The guardian was different,¡± I said, irritated again, ¡°that guy was special, unique. He even got resummoned with his memories intact. Also, I don¡¯t hate the skeletons.¡± Keith waved my words away with irritating ease. ¡°That only goes to show that they are capable. The guardian was a higher tier with higher abilities, to be sure, but that just means that Skully might be able to communicate too, if only to a lesser degree.¡± I spoke with them for an hour and answered all their damn questions. When we were done they seemed convinced more than ever that they would be able to figure out a way to speak to the skeletons, if not with Skully than maybe the higher tiered archer or armor types. After pouring out all my experiences with the skeletons to them and then leaving them to their wares I turned again to Skully. The creature had stopped looking at us after my exhibition of my flare skill, but he hadn''t lost his spirit. He looked to be carefully inspecting the room, subtly though, as if trying to find a way out. ¡­ What had changed since yesterday that seemed to give Skully so much¡­ hope? Somehow, I don¡¯t think that getting back two centimeters of arm is enough for such a turnaround. Was he just happy to figure out that he could regrow it back? Or was there something else going on? What does he know that we don¡¯t?¡± ¡­ Suddenly, Keith¡¯s desire for interrogating no longer seemed so outlandish. ¡°Is there any word on the remaining skeletons?¡± I ask out loud, not looking back. ¡°No,¡± Keith said, ¡°I know the boys are trying to work out something, but I don¡¯t know what. None of the other ones have so much as poked their heads out of the water.¡± I let those words sink in a for a few minutes. Then I turn to leave. ¡°If that¡¯s all, then I¡¯m going to go to bed now. I feel dead tired.¡± Keith lifts up his eyes curiously and asks, ¡°your not going to stay for the results of the test?¡± ¡°Errrr.¡± I say uncertainly, ¡°what test?¡± Keith just gives me an evil grin and looks at his watch. ¡°In fact, it¡¯s about time now. Let¡¯s head over to the house, the colonel should be there.¡± At his words, Charles and Clarissa pack up some items excitedly and move out of the trailer to go to the house. ¡­ My house. Keith must have seen the look on my face because he gives me a chuckle and pushes me out the door in front of him. ¡°I never did thank you for letting us use your property, Greg.¡± Keith says, half pushing me to my house. Every single light inside the house is on and then some, lighting up the neighborhood as the sun sank below the horizon. The electricity is still in my name, damn it. ¡°I¡¯m getting paid for it,¡± I say through gritted teeth. Jeffrey joins us immediately as we step out of the trailer, not speaking a sound. ¡°Yes, you are,¡± Keith responds evenly. As we cross the heavily trafficked lawn Keith asks, ¡°How was work today, anyway? In all the excitement, I forgot to ask.¡± ¡°It was hard,¡± I reply bluntly, not in the mood for politeness. ¡°I can imagine. What happened?¡± I shrug, ¡°Besides everybody wondering what on earth happened to me to make it look like I had been malnourished for months over a single weekend? I should have listened to you Jeff,¡± I add, turning to our companion, ¡°I should have taken the day off.¡± ¡°I can imagine,¡± Keith said again. ¡°It must be hard trying to fit in. Frankly I am surprised they let you go at all. After a traumatic experience like yours Greg, they usually hold you back with counseling before releasing you into the wild. Do you have a counselor now or have you considered getting one? There are some on staff we can let you speak to. I¡¯ll put in a word with the colonel.¡±If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡°What?¡± I ask, taken aback, ¡°no, I haven¡¯t. I¡¯m fine, I don¡¯t need to speak to a counselor.¡± I realize that¡¯s what somebody who needs a counselor would say and Keith gives me a knowing look. We reach the door to my house and he stops and looks me in the eyes. ¡°I think you are holding up remarkably well,¡± Keith praised, his blond hair glinting under the harsh light above, ¡°If even only have of the things you said are true. However, if you do need help, putting up a front will only get you so far and it will eventually crumble. You¡¯re a good guy, Greg, and I¡¯d hate to see you hurt if we can help it.¡± ¡°I¡¯m fine¡± I stress again, scowling at him, ¡°Look, I¡¯m grateful for your attention, but I am fine, I¡¯m just having trouble sleeping is all,¡± He gives me a raised eyebrow at that statement, but I power through it, ¡°and I was just thinking about all the people at work who have medical issues. I never really thought about it before, but now that I know I can heal them with a touch, I kind of felt overwhelmed. I don¡¯t know what to do about it.¡± ¡°Ah,¡± Keith replied, looking enlightened. To the side I see Jeffery is still standing there dutifully, waiting for us to enter my house. I bet he¡¯s just listening to what I am saying and reporting it all to the colonel or somebody. I probably shouldn''t blab so much in front of him. Keith looks thoughtful for a moment before shrugging and giving me a smile. He says, ¡°After all this is over, maybe you should open up a wellness clinic and charge outrageous sums of money to heal people. You¡¯d be a quick millionaire, I think.¡± I snort at him, ¡°I¡¯d like to actually help people, not cater to the rich.¡± ¡°Good luck with that then,¡± Keith replies sarcastically, ¡°Once it¡¯s known you have a miracle cure, rich and powerful people will start flying in from all over the world to have themselves or their loved ones fixed, and they won¡¯t take no for an answer. And then, desperate people will come flocking to you to, thinking they have nothing left to lose but try. Migrants are flocking to our southern borders now just for a chance at a better life. How much more so will that be for a chance to escape certain death?¡± ¡­ Ouch. That puts the problem in perspective. ¡­ The only other person I know who could possibly have been in a similar spot as me would be Jesus Christ who miraculously healed people. He was always surrounded by crowds of people and one time desperate men dug a hole in a roof in order to lower down a sick friend to where Jesus had been eating in an attempt to get their buddy healed. There were times when even Jesus had to get away from the crowds for some alone time, and he was the son of God! Plus, it didn¡¯t end well for him. Betrayed by his disciple and then executed by the Romans when the powerful figures in Israel realized they couldn''t control him... ¡­ I certainly don¡¯t want to go that route. ... Seeing the look on my face, Keith slaps me on the back and says, ¡°Cheer up! Maybe there will be good news inside!¡± We walk in, but I am not cheered up, instead I am in a much worse mood. The likelihood of me being able to help people on a large scale is looking more and more remote each second as I try to grasp the full measure of what my abilities mean. I only stop my musing when I notice the inside of my house. Judas Muade, what did they do to my home? Why did they feel the need to make it a command center, couldn¡¯t they have just used a super trailer for that or something? My beautiful house, they¡¯ve turned in into a monster! Monitors hang on basically every open space on the walls, cords are everywhere, carefully wrapped in bundles to prevent tripping and several extra desks have been brought in along with an army of chairs. The place is packed with people, while before I would have had a hard time being able to imagine hosting anything over a dozen people in my house at once, now they have managed to squeeze them in like sardines. What work are they actually all doing here? Feeling at a loss, Keith just guides me over to a corner where a young man is setting up some new equipment for whatever God knows purpose. I just stand there in a trance wondering what my life has turned into. Keith strikes up a conversation with a passing soldier but I tone it out. On the other side of the room I see Charles and Clarissa standing next to a wall, tablets secured by their sides. They seem to be in anticipation for something, they look anxious and excited. ¡­ Who¡¯s keeping an eye on Skully if we are all here? ¡­ Surrounded by this organized chaos, I give a big regretful sigh. I just want to go to bed and end this day already. The guy next to me gets up after plugging in certain cords and cables from down below, brushing off his fatigues, and I get a good look at him. He has short cropped hair as per military standard and brown eyes with a clean shaven face. He¡¯s built like a tank, although a little shorter than me, and he gives a quick look as he notices me watching him before turning back to his work, setting up a monitor on the desk. His left face is bandaged up with white cloth, his left eye completely covered. His neck is partially bandaged too, red angry skin is visible below that, running around his neck to his back and shoulder. It looks painful but the man doesn¡¯t cringe at all as he moves around fluidly. After a moment, I can¡¯t help but ask, ¡°What happened to you?¡± I realize right after I said it that I was being very rude and he probably would have preferred to be left alone. The man gave me a quick once over with a frown before mumbling something I couldn''t catch and then saying with a grunt, ¡°Training accident.¡± He didn¡¯t elaborate but instead got back to work, finishing up his preparations. ¡­ Why is this guy here? Shouldn¡¯t he be resting in a hospital or something? I feel a pair of eyes studying me and I turn to see the colonel looking at me passively from across the room, even as three adjuncts gab at him all at once, trying to push tablets into his hands. ¡­ Is this a test? Is he testing me? Did he purposely put an injured man in front of me to see how I will react? Well, screw him! ¡­ I turn back to the man and ask curiously, ¡°What kind of damage do you have? The man sits back with a sigh and finally gives me his full attention. After a small scowl he says openly, ¡°burns all around my face and back, that¡¯ll leave significant scarring. Its my eye they are really worried about, though, they are not sure I¡¯ll get that back. Maybe partially, but there will be a significant loss of sight in it either way. It will take weeks or months to heal.¡± He stares at me, as if challenging me to ask more about it. Instead, I give him my own frown. ¡°Would you like me to heal you?¡± I ask bluntly. He looks at me like a crazy man for a second. ¡°What?¡± he replies incredulously. I can feel the intense gaze of the colonel on my back but I ignore it. Instead, I bring my right hand up and cast flare on it, my most showy skill. I stare down the man and ask again, ¡°Would you like me to heal you?¡± Realization seems to dawn on the man as he stares agape at my hand. He replies horcely, ¡°You¡¯re Greg Tyler?¡± I simply nod and the man swallows hard. He asks again, his eyes flitting around in panic, ¡°Right here?¡± ¡°Right now.¡± I reply sternly. That¡¯s what the colonel was intending anyway. I end the skill on my hand to stop wasting mana. Gulping, the man asks quickly, ¡°Will it hurt?¡± I shrug, ¡°You¡¯ll feel an uncomfortable icy sensation, like dipping your arm into ice water, but that will probably feel nice to you, after getting burned like that.¡± The man simply stares at me, not making a move. ¡­ Geeze, what¡¯s it take? ¡­ I give him an annoyed look and ask, ¡°you want healing or not? It''ll only take a few moments.¡± Suddenly, the man nods his head frantically. I reach out to grab his face and he flinches back for a second before calming himself down and squeezing his eye shut. I roll my eyes at him. ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡± I ask, gently placing my hands on his face. ¡°Private Johnson,¡± he answers with a shaky voice. I activate heal and watch the soft glow infuse his face spreading down his neck and back. Johnson gasps at the sensation at first, but holds still. Twenty seconds later, my mana only a quarter depleted, I finish and take my hands off of him. He doesn¡¯t move or open his eye, so I probe my my finger. ¡°Well?¡± I ask irritably. He starts, feeling his neck with his hand before rubbing his bandages. Presumably, when he feels no pain, he suddenly starts fumbling, trying to pull them off. I watch with an amused glance and soon his face is uncovered. ¡­ It¡¯s not a pretty sight. I may have healed his wounds, but the leftover puss, salves, and other gross stuff is still on his face. ¡°Uhhhh,¡± I say, looking away, ¡°you should wash that off.¡± Johnson was elated though. Opening his left eye fully, he gives me a look of pure joy before gushing loudly, ¡°Thank you very much.¡± ¡­ Go and sin no more. ¡­ Just kidding, go and wash your face. ¡°You¡¯re welcome,¡± I just say, ¡°Seriously, the bathroom is around the corner, go and wash your face.¡± After a few more heartfelt and attention grabbing thank yous, he does just that. He left his task incomplete though, the monitor is still not up and running. I hope he doesn¡¯t get in trouble for that. I sigh and look around, Keith is eyeing me with bright frightful intensity and Jeff with an odd glint. Other than that only a few others noticed the commotion and understood what happened, the place as so loud and busy as it was. They too, eyed me with weird looks. I intentionally avoid the colonel¡¯s gaze. Keith says after a moment, ¡°That was very kind of you.¡± I try to shrug it off and ask, ¡°what are we here for again?¡± Its Jeff who responds, speaking for what seems like the first time, ¡°They are testing a tactical nuke right now.¡± ¡­ Holy crap, are you kidding me? ¡°Isn¡¯t that a little too soon?¡± I ask nervously. ¡°It''s only been a couple days.¡± I mean, I know I wanted it to happen, but¡­. holy crap. Jeff just gives me a wicked grin. Keith answers my unasked questions, ¡°They are testing it out on a sphere out in the ocean by Hawaii, labeled SP-151, or Spirit, if you will. They encircled the thing and have been making tests on it all day.¡± No kidding. ¡°What have they learned?¡± Jeff reaches over and hands me a tablet with a report on it. The label on it TOP SECRET causes me to pause, but I try to ignore it. Keith fills me in with the details as I try to read. ¡°While the membrane absorbs any material it comes into contact with as it expands, purposeful penetration of the membrane with drones and other items have all failed, at first.¡± I look up at him curiously, giving up for a moment to unravel the complicated data in front of me. ¡°What do you mean? What about those five people who ran into the one in LA?¡± ¡°We had the same thought,¡± Keith replies sagely, ¡°The sphere in LA, SP-052, Spook, certainly did have that happen. Alternately, due to the rural nature of that sphere we haven''t been able to run as extensive tests as we could otherwise on it. We¡¯ve been able to insert drones into that one on seemingly random occasions. We¡¯ve never got any data back from the drones, but besides that, we needed to figure out the conditions for being able to insert material into the spheres.¡± ¡°Like bombs.¡± I say flatly. Keith nods. ¡°The answer turns out to be relatively simple. As far as the data shows, if there are humans nearby the sphere will accept penetration. Other animal and organisms don¡¯t seem to count.¡± ¡­ Wow. That¡¯s kind of ominous. ¡°Once they figured that out, they¡¯ve been able to run tests on Spirit.¡± Keith then adds as an afterthought, ¡°other countries are doing the same to their spheres.¡± ¡­ Interesting. I turn back to the data in front of me, scrolling past the meaningless jargon to get to some results I can understand. ¡­ Looks like they have tried everything they could think of and two conclusions stand out. One is that nothing gets out, no energy readings of any kind. Drones, bombs, and even live animals have been inserted with no reportable results. Once something enters, it might as well have never existed. Secondly, as they progressed through bigger and bigger explosives, they came to the conclusion that radical measures could be taken. Hence the tactical nuke. In theory, all they need to do is destroy the core. Even if they kill off everything inside the sphere, as long as the core is still intact it can continue to grow. ¡­ Time to start praying for the nuke to work then. As we waited, I continue to read the report. When humans aren''t around, the membrane of the sphere acts like an impenetrable force, rejecting any kind of intrusion. Even the hardest of objects and toughest of pressure was like throwing eggs at a wall. Once humans were in the vicinity, though, the membrane becomes malleable, but, so far, still not breakable. Once an object touches the membrane it gets inexorably sucked in, the only way to stop it is to cut the object in half. So, if a human hand touches it, you had better chop off the arm. The rate of absorption varies depending on the size of the object and the force at which the object contacts the membrane. Bullets get absorbed almost instantaneously while large crates slowly get pulled in. While it appears that the rate of growth is decreasing as times goes on, the truth is far different. The growth is actually completely constant, growing consistently at about a cubic foot every ten seconds. ¡­ It¡¯s a scary thought. Even though that is pretty small, eventually, way down the road eventually, it will mean that it will consume the earth. ... Also, LA will have serious problems before that happens. ... As I studied the report, Private Johnson returned, looking dazed and out of it. He casts several quick glances at me as he returns to his station and I do my best to ignore him. Eventually, something seemed to get the better of him and he leans over to me and whispers, ¡°My sister has stage four lymphoma. Would you be willing to¡­?¡± He didn¡¯t finish his sentence but the pleading in his eyes was real. I stiffen at his words and watch his apprehensive eyes. ¡­ So this is how it starts. After a moment, I ask him softly, ¡°where is she?¡± ¡°She lives in Maine,¡± Johnson replies back. That¡¯s a long ways away. Suddenly, the noise level in the house drops drastically as everyone seems to stop talking at once. I give Keith a questioning look and he says to me in a hushed voice, unwilling to break the sudden silence, ¡°The nuclear warhead just made contact with the membrane. It should be a couple of minutes before it gets wholly sucked in and should go off a few minutes after that. They are evacuating the area around Spirit now.¡± There is no particular monitor everybody is staring at, so I assume there is no live feed. I hear a controlled voice over a speaker somewhere narrating the events. On one of the screens I see a large countdown. Soft whispered voices are scattered across the house as the tension builds. I stare at the timer too. ¡°If you can get her in front of me,¡± I whisper back to Johnson, ¡°I¡¯ll do what I can. You understand you must keep this a secret, though¡± I look over at the timer, a bad feeling settling in my stomach. I add after a moment, ¡°you had better make this sooner rather than later. Things will get crazy around here soon.¡± Johnson nods back with steely determination. I have no idea what her condition is or how he will convince her to fly out over here, but that¡¯s his problem, not mine. A voice sounds out over the speakers, ¡°ten seconds till complete insertion.¡± A total and palpable silence covers the room. I watch the timer and ten seconds later the voice calls out again, ¡°insertion complete, countdown till detonation, two minutes.¡± I wait with baited breath for an immediate response, but nothing comes. ¡­ God Damn it. It''s a failure. I don¡¯t know if they forgot about the time dilation or not, but if it worked, we should have seen results immediately, two minutes or not. Nobody says anything, so I don¡¯t either, shifting my weight as I struggle to understand the implications of this failure. The silence lasts for the full two agonizing minutes and eventually the timer ends. Everybody looks around at each other with concern until the voice comes back on over the speaker. ¡°No reaction toward detonation, I repeat, no reaction to detonation. Spirit is still standing.¡± Angry and disappointed muttering spreads across the crowd and I hear a loud sigh from Keith next to me. ¡°Damn,¡± he says, scratching the back of his head, ¡°not enough.¡± No kidding. At this point, I don¡¯t believe that kind of method will work anymore. The spheres are set up like games, and games are meant to be played a certain way. It¡¯s not going to accept work arounds. They are going to have to go in, guns blazing. ¡­ Damn, I¡¯m going to have to go in again, too, aren¡¯t I. Chapter 25 ~ All I Need is a Miracle I didn¡¯t stay long in the aftermath of the failed nuclear test, leaving before the colonel or any other person could stop me. Things got a little hectic there quickly so I escaped out the back with Jeffery before getting into my car and driving back to my hotel room. I don¡¯t know what the army is going to try to do now. Try a bigger, badder nuke? Their options are limited at this point and I bet the higher ups are screaming for results. Realistically, there is only one option left, but I¡¯ll make that tomorrow¡¯s problem. At my hotel room my furnishings feel more unfriendly and alien than ever before. I debated just leaving and driving up north to the parents even at this now late hour, but ultimately decided against it, just giving Mom a call before the long nap. During the call I tried to be upbeat and positive but she must have heard something in my voice, because she asked me what was wrong almost immediately. Mothers are like that somehow. I gave her a sad chuckle and ask, ¡°What isn¡¯t wrong?¡± She is silent on her end for a couple heartbeats before saying, ¡°You should come up and join us, Greg. Seriously, take the rest of the week off.¡± ¡°I¡¯d like to,¡± I confess, ¡°I¡¯d really like to. But they need me to stay here.¡± ¡°They can¡¯t make you stay,¡± Mom snaps back at me, ¡°let them figure it out, you gave them all the information you had, it''s their problem now. Just come home and rest.¡± I sigh heavily into the phone. Maybe I shouldn''t have called. ¡°There are important things I need to do here,¡± I answer, ¡°I can¡¯t just leave, not now. They need me.¡± ¡°No they don¡¯t,¡± Mom huffs back, ¡°what could they possibly use a kid like you for?¡± ¡­ ¡°Mom, I¡¯m twenty-eight now, hardly a kid anymore. I¡¯m older than most of the soldiers in my house¡­¡± ¡°But they are all trained for this,¡± Mom continues, undeterred, ¡°they signed up for this. You didn¡¯t. They don¡¯t need you, they are just using you.¡± I don¡¯t answer back, wondering what I could say to convince her to drop it. Eventually, I reply, ¡°I can¡¯t tell you what¡¯s going on here, Mom, but they do need me. They will need me, I can¡¯t just leave yet, not until we solve this problem.¡± ¡°Why, what¡¯s going on?¡± Mom asks sharply. ¡°I can¡¯t say¡­¡± ¡°Is it dangerous? What do they need you for still?¡± ¡°It¡¯s not dangerous,¡± I lie through my teeth, ¡°Don¡¯t worry about me.¡± I can sense Mom dissatisfied on the other end so I continue forward, ¡°I''ll take tomorrow off, I really will. It¡¯s just hard being back, you know, so much has changed. When they weren¡¯t talking about me, everybody at the office was discussing the spheres. It¡¯s all that¡¯s going on, and being in the middle of it is hard. I¡¯d like to go back to the way things were, but it¡¯s just not possible now, you know?¡± There were a few moments of quiet on the line and then Mom says with a sigh, ¡°I understand, Greg. Just, please, let us know if anything is troubling you. As long as it¡¯s not classified, of course,¡± she adds through gritted teeth. ¡°Keep in contact, call us every night if you can. We are worried about you, Greg. When are you going to get a new phone?¡± ¡°Tomorrow, if I¡¯m taking the day off, I might as well get something accomplished.¡± ¡°Okay,¡± She replies warily, seemingly not trusting me. We talk for a few more minutes before hanging up for the night. In the end, the call didn¡¯t really make me feel better. I shower and go to bed, but it¡¯s another fitful night for me. Reality and nightmares keep chasing each other and I wake up with a start every few hours. I suppose that perhaps it¡¯s just instinct now, after having to wake up every few hours while I was in the instance to cleanse in order to survive, my body is probably still caught in that loop. Either that or I¡¯m cursed. I cast cleanse on me once in the middle of the night, but nothing doing. It¡¯s still a hard night. The morning greets me with its usual sunshine and I wonder what the army cooked up. Jeffrey offers to get me off of work again and I take him up this time. After a quick continental breakfast again, I text jeffery that I¡¯m going out to the phone store which I then promptly do. Two frustrating hours later, I have my new phone in my hand with all my contacts and info. Why it took two hours, I have no idea, but problem after problem came up that I eventually just solved with money. I guess some problems can just be solved with money. After stepping out of the store and looking up at the clear blue sky, I wondered just what on earth I was going to do now. Short term and long term. I hadn¡¯t a clue for either. ¡­ Strike that, it seems the colonel would like to see me now, I just got a text from Jeffrey asking if I was available. Sure I am! I guess the bigger badder nuke plan failed? ¡­ I pull up to my house again, local and national news stations have figured out something is going on here, but the army has set up a pretty large perimeter, blocking off access for the indignant crews so that they have no idea what¡¯s actually happening. A few crews with cams have been stationed there in case something does happen, but unless a skeleton breaks free and walks within sight of the cameras, I think they¡¯ll be disappointed. Once the crews station there realized I was being let in through the barrier, they starting really becoming indignant, shouting things at me like, ¡°What¡¯s going on in there?¡±, ¡°Is there a third sphere?¡±, and ¡°The american people deserve to know what¡¯s happening!¡±. Geeze, if they do their homework, they''ll figure out who own what houses down this street and start interrogating them and their family members. If the army already hasn¡¯t, I should call my parents and let them know what¡¯s coming. Jeffrey meets me once again after I park my car on the packed lawn. With a sigh, I let him lead me back into my house and into my kitchen where the colonel is waiting for me at my dining room table. Compared to yesterday, the place is much different, only a few people are scattered around on the various desks. The colonel looks like he hadn¡¯t gotten much sleep either, his grey head looking worn and tired. ¡­ Good, misery loves company. After morning greetings, I decide to get straight to the point. ¡°The nuclear testing failed?¡± I ask, already knowing the answer. The colonel nods at me. ¡°Yes, we did an additional test early this morning with a significantly more powerful device, but the results were inconclusive. Spirit still stands.¡± I knew it. ¡°Have you learned anything from the research front?¡± I ask, indicating the vault still covered in white tarps. The colonel gave a chuckle at that question. ¡°Much, if you ask the research team. They have gigs and gigs of new knowledge on it, their passion for the subject is like nothing I have ever seen.¡± ¡°But nothing readily useful,¡± I add with a knowing look. The colonel shrugs, ¡°not yet at least. Some of the stuff is interesting, but not immediately helpful.¡± Silence falls over the table and the colonel seems to just study me. Uncomfortable with it, I was about to say something when the colonel cut in again, ¡°I¡¯d like to thank you for healing Private Johnson.¡± I give him a soft scowl. ¡°You¡¯re welcome. Did you bring him in to test me?¡± ¡°No,¡± The colonel replied, ¡°He was already here, I just adjusted his schedule so that there was a good chance you two would meet. I am very happy that you chose to heal him. As for his sister, we¡¯ll turn a blind eye if you two keep it under wraps, do you understand?¡± I nod but say bitterly, ¡°You could have just asked me, there was no need to go through that kind of manipulation. If you have anybody on base here who needs healing let me know and I¡¯ll help.¡± At my words, the colonel let¡¯s out a sigh, surprising me. ¡°I¡¯ll let them know. But Greg, you are too careless with your powers. You can¡¯t just willy nilly heal everybody you see, it will cause chaos and leave you in danger. I need you to be more conservative with it.¡± ¡°I have the ability to help people,¡± I say as forcefuly as I can muster in front of a hard colonel, ¡°I understand the risks involved, but I can¡¯t sit back and watch people suffer when I can help.¡± The colonel gives me a scowl, ¡°You¡¯ve never shown this level of magnaminty before. Why change now?¡± Now I give him a scowl, ¡°I never had unlimited resources before.¡± That gave him a pause. Ha, eat that! ¡°My mana regenerates at a consistent rate before capping out. It only takes a half an hour to fully regenerate. Think about it, wherever this mana comes from, whether I get it through the air or its self generating in my body, I have an unlimited amount of it. I can¡¯t hog that kind of resource all to myself, not when it can be so beneficial to so many people.¡± The colonel studies me with a frown, crossing his arms now. I let him stew on my words and eventually he sighs again and rubs his weary head. ¡°We can discuss this issue later. For now, can you promise me you¡¯ll make no radical waves for us to take care of? Not while the spheres are still a threat at least. Once all of this is over, we can decide the best way to handle the healing abilities.¡± I don¡¯t like the sound of that. ¡°I understand the need for discretion,¡± I say firmly, ¡°And I¡¯ll keep this quiet for my sake as much as yours. But in the end, these are my abilities and I will have the final say in how they are used.¡± There, I said it. One step closer down the path to crucifixion. Great. ¡­ Thankfully the colonel doesn¡¯t decide to call in the guards to escort me to the experimentation lab. Instead, he waives off my words like they are no big deal. ¡°We¡¯ll deal with that issue after this is all over, we don''t have time to argue about this. Right now, the immediate problems are threatening to swallow us up and your issues are just going to have to take a backseat.¡± I swallow hard and ask, ¡°How bad is it?¡± ¡°You tell me.¡± the colonel replies forcefully, leaning forward. ¡°We¡¯ve tried everything we can think of, even putting in our goddamn nukes into the things to no apparent effect. They continue to grow to an even pace and Spook is threatening the structural integrity of the street and buildings nearby. While the president managed to put together some measure of calmness on the situation with his claim we have the answers, the truth is that we have practically nothing right now. The public and the world is screaming for answers that we can¡¯t give. Maybe, given time, we¡¯ll think of something else, but you tell me, can we risk waiting that long?¡± ¡­ No. We can¡¯t. ... ¡°No,¡± I say with resignation, ¡°We can¡¯t afford to wait. As much as I¡¯d like to not believe it, until we can get inside the spheres and study them closely, our hands are tied. The time dilation is terrifying me. I spent a week in the sphere, and in that time the average levels of all the monsters in it rose by ten while no more than an hour of time passed on earth. I don¡¯t know how the time dilation works, but if the levels of the monsters grow by ten every hour then we are screwed. We have no time, we need to go in as soon as possible.¡± The colonel nods but doesn¡¯t say anything so I add, ¡°You¡¯ll need to assemble a team.¡± ¡°We already have teams,¡± the colonel scoffs, ¡°Our elite special forces will be going in.¡± ¡°When?¡± The colonel doesn¡¯t answer, but just stares at me expectantly. ¡­ This bastard. ¡°Are you going to make me say it?¡± ¡°I can¡¯t and won¡¯t order you do join them,¡± the colonel says flatly, ¡°and I won¡¯t ask you to either. Judging from your story, it¡¯s a hell we are very reluctant to send our best trained soldiers in, much less a civilian. But, judging from your story too, it will most certainly fail without your help. That¡¯s assuming there really is a world inside and not a one way ticket to the middle of a black hole. Nobody is going to go in there without you giving assurance in the matter.¡± Meaning unless I put my money where my mouth is, there not going to take my word on this. That¡¯s fair I suppose. Even I don''t know for certain what¡¯s behind the grey walls. ¡­ Well, Mom is going to kill me. At least this time I¡¯ll have back up. I can leave all the heavy lifting to those guys. ¡°Then consider this me volunteering.¡± The colonel gives me a wide grin. ¡°The president has promised some medals for this, whether you return or not.¡± Great, I¡¯ll present them to Peter at the gates of heaven. ¡°How many people do you think you can support.¡± the colonel asks suddenly, getting down to business. ¡°Support?¡± The colonel waves his hand at me. ¡°Consider worst case scenario. How many people could you keep alive with your skills?¡± Harsh. After a moment I say, ¡°No more than five. Anymore than that and we risk too much if I can¡¯t cleanse or heal them in time.¡± The colonel jotts that down before asking, ¡°Do you think they will be able to acquire classes and or skills inside?¡± The world is going nuts. ¡°Maybe, yeah,¡± I say with exasperation, ¡°I think so. Everything inside had levels and classes, so I assume they would be able to acquire some as well. What kind, I have no clue. Listen, we¡¯re going to be bringing in tanks and stuff, right?¡± ¡°Depends on the nature of the mission.¡± the colonel replies sardonically, ¡°You¡¯ll be flown out to LA late tonight and you¡¯ll be meeting with your team and command out there to devise a plan. If said plans calls for a quick insert and destroy mission, then no, a loud and highly visible tank will not do.¡± ¡­ Blast! I really wanted that tank! We talked for a few minutes more, mostly nailing down my travel details and my itinerary for tomorrow. The colonel will not be going to LA, but will remain here so my new boss is a different colonel over in LA when I arrive. Jeffrey will be coming with me too, which was actually a relief, the dependable silent guy was starting to grow on me. I didn¡¯t have to ask for my spear back either, they were already transporting it for my use in LA. The current plan was an insertion into Spook Thursday morning with my new special forces team. Get in and save the world from the moderately paced encroaching spheres.If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Hoorah. My flight wasn¡¯t until eight so I had until 6:30 to do whatever the hell I wanted. It¡¯s just that, I still had no idea what that would be. I mean, besides informing my family I was leaving and could potentially die on a mission that my mother expressly believes that I shouldn''t be involved in. .. After standing outside my car in a daze, I decided to procrastinate and go visit Bill and see how he was holding up. Bill and his wife of whom I still don¡¯t know her name invite me in warmly. I don¡¯t know them that well anyway so we just had some pleasantries before I asked if they were okay with the military hanging around so much. ¡°It gets noisy sometimes,¡± the wife complains good naturedly. I honestly think their presence helps sooth her stress. Nothing like a dependable army to keep things under control. ¡°We decided not to bully our daughter back here.¡± Bill grumbles to me, ¡°She¡¯s got her own life in LA and her own decision to make. Any more pushing on our end will not help.¡± I pause and give Bill a look. ¡°If nothing changes after thursday,¡± I say after a moment, ¡°I advise you to do whatever you can to get her back here, away from LA.¡± ¡°Why, what¡¯s happening on Thursday?¡± Bill asks anxiously. ¡°I can¡¯t say much, but something is going down.¡± ¡°Are you going in again?¡± Bill¡¯s wife asks, surprising me. With a chuckle I reply, ¡°I really can¡¯t talk about it.¡± ¡°Are you going to be okay?¡± ¡­ I really don¡¯t know. The deep look of concern on the face of the woman I don¡¯t even know her name is throwing me off. ¡°I¡¯ll be fine,¡± I stress. After shrugging off more concern and well wishes I escape from the house and decide to take a trip to the nature preserve to check out my old buddies. As soon as I enter the military compound again Jeffrey joins me as if he was waiting for me to return. Wordlessly, we trudge back through now beaten paths to the lake. Once this is over the DNR will be screaming at us for the damages here. I only spend a few minutes looking out over the lake, but there is no hide nor hair nor bone of the skeletons in there. At least, I hope there are in there still. They had better be in there. After that useless time I head back to my car to leave. Jeffrey stops me and speaks for like the first time that day. ¡°What are you going to do today?¡± After giving him an eye I shrug. ¡°I have no idea.¡± ¡°Take my advice and make time for your family. You¡¯ll regret it if you don¡¯t.¡± Of course, thanks. ¡°See you at six,¡± I reply back, entering my car and driving away. On the way back to my room, I seriously consider getting drunk for the first time in my life. I¡¯ve always wondered what kind of drunk I would be. I even made it to the local grocery store before realizing that would be an extremely irresponsible decision to make. Curse my upbringing! I can¡¯t even indulge in vices in times like these. I end up grabbing a bag of clementines and head to the check out. Will I be able to eat the whole bag by this evening? Unlikely. Will I try? You bet I will. Those clementines are going down. In front of me in the check out lane there is a woman with a familiar silhouette. A petite girl with long red/brown hair pulled back in a ponytail. Jeans with a regular green t-shirt on. ¡­ Holy crap, its my ex, Rachel. I knew she lives nearby, she still lives at her parents only a few miles away from my house. In fact, I bought my house just before we broke up with the intention of being closer to her. And I knew that she frequents this grocery which is why I have been going to the other one for a year and a half now. I haven¡¯t seen her since I broke up with her. ¡­ To be honest, I have fantasized a lot about what I would say and how she would respond if I ever saw her again. Did she regret dumping me? Did she ever find somebody else? Was she happy? Now that I am seeing her unexpectedly I freeze and my pulse jumps to 150 beats per minute. My first instinct is to run while she doesn¡¯t see me. ¡­ I freeze for too long and she notices me as she turns to grab another item off her cart. ¡°Greg!¡± she says in surprise and I nearly jump at her word. She is not nearly as stunned as I am. I try to give her a smile and I say automatically, ¡°How are you doing, Rachel? You are not at school today?¡± ¡°Its summer,¡± she points out flatly. Oh, duh. Teachers have most of the summer off. I try to laugh off my idiocracy and look to the side as I scratch my head. What am I supposed to say again? All my pre-formed words are gone and useless! After a frantic moment, I just sigh and look at her for real. ¡°So, how have you been?¡± To be honest I still have some affection for Rachel, and I know she was going through some hard times when we broke up. Rachel offers me a weak smile and adds some items to the belt. ¡°Oh, just fine. And you?¡± ¡­ I feel like we are still at the place we were at when we were dating. I never did feel like we got past the masks we put over ourselves. Each of us trying to be the model boyfriend or girlfriend without ever seeing each other. ¡°I¡¯m fine too.¡± I reply, shaking my head at the lie. I look away. The cashier doesn¡¯t say anything, sensing the obvious tension in the air. The beeping sounds of Rachel¡¯s items are loud and clear. ¡­ And that¡¯s that. Rachel doesn¡¯t say anymore and I can¡¯t blame her. Its too hard to talk to each other again. I should have picked a different aisle. ¡­ In the end I can¡¯t let it go. ¡°How is Tim doing?¡± I finally ask. Tim is Rachel¡¯s father and was a man I admired. But he had health issues last I saw him. Rachel stiffens at my words but keeps scanning her items. At first I think she¡¯s not going to reply at all but then she looks me in the eyes and says with the same weak smile. ¡°Not good.¡± ¡­ Dang. Tim had prostate cancer ten years ago that was beaten into submission. Then it returned with a vengeance, I understood, needing intense radiation therapy. They were just getting into that when I left and I regretted not being able to follow how that turned out. I swallow and ask, ¡°How bad is it?¡± She probably doesn¡¯t want to talk about it, but too bad! I want to know. After another few moments Rachel speaks again, ¡°He¡¯s home now.¡± ¡­ Hmmm? Home? As in with Jesus in Heaven? Before my thoughts can go further down that line, Rachel adds, ¡°Mom¡¯s looking after him right now.¡± I see. That is bad, it sounds like treatment was unsuccessful and, judging by Rachel¡¯s body language, I believe Tim is on the road to death ¡­ That really sucks. A few introspective moments later Rachel is done and is getting ready to move away without another word. I don¡¯t blame her, but I call out to her before she can get away. ¡°Rachel, wait! I¡¯d like to speak with you for a moment, can you wait a sec?¡± Rachel pauses and then gives me a resigned look, noding back unhappily and steering her cart off to the side. Tim has an important role in Rachel¡¯s household. Rachel¡¯s older brother moved away and married years ago and her older sister Elena is mentally disabled. Elena is a grumpy sweetheart of whom Rachel and Tim are the primary caregivers to. If Tim dies it leaves a big hole in the family, additional strain on taking care of Elena, Rachel¡¯s uncertain future of being voluntarily shackled to Elena, and the mom as the primary breadwinner. When I was dating Rachel I new that Elena would enter my life one way or another. With Tim¡¯s diagnosis during the last month of our dating I was preparing for that day to come sooner rather than later. ¡­ I still can¡¯t believe Rachel didn¡¯t want to be with me. ¡­ A hasty minute later where I speed scanned my items and paid, I caught up to Rachel who was giving her attention to her phone. She looked up at when I approached with my single bag of clementines, looking tired. She waits for me to speak. ¡°Hey!¡± I say, suddenly unsure how to go about this. Rachel looks at me expectantly and I look around quickly. We are pretty off to the side here and it''s not a busy day. I lean in and uphold my right hand so that only she can see it. She stares at it in confusion before I light it up with flare. Rachel blinks at the light and I say quickly, ¡°Listen, I¡¯ve got a healing ability. You know those spheres? One of those appeared at my house this last weekend and I can¡¯t give you the details, but I got a healing skill from it. I¡¯d like to try and heal Tim.¡± ¡­ To her credit, she doesn¡¯t slap me in the face. I¡¯d like to think that its because I¡¯m a very trustworthy guy who¡¯d never prank her on something like this, too. She doesn''t say anything but stares at me with a stupefied expression. ¡°I¡¯m serious, here, take my hand.¡± I am pleased to see that she takes my glowing hand into hers without hesitation and I switch over to cleanse, letting the warm magic diffuse over her arm. I see her shiver slightly at the feeling. We just kind of stare at each other for a few moments before I add, ¡°I¡¯m going away tonight, but I¡¯d like to help.¡± ¡­ Still, she doesn¡¯t say anything, but I can feel her gripping my hand more tightly. What is she thinking? I can never tell. I say as sternly as I can, ¡°I can heal Tim.¡± Eventually I hear her whisper back, ¡°Don¡¯t you joke with me about this, Greg. It¡¯s not funny.¡± I give her the best smile I can muster and ask, ¡°Trust me. When have I ever lied to you?¡± Honestly, I can¡¯t think of a time where I ever did. A few more tense moments later she nods at me and says in a voice barely above a whisper, ¡°kay.¡± I cough awkwardly and say, ¡°Can I meet you over at your house, then?¡± She just nods and lets go of my hand. There is a severe look in her eye and I know that if I end this up as a joke, she¡¯ll never forgive me. That¡¯s fine with me. I briefly consider walking her back to her car and helping her unload her groceries, but decide better of it. I was always super awkward before, trying to do gentlemanly things for her, it would only be so much more so now. I¡¯ll let her stew on my words in the meanwhile. Her house in only five minutes away by car and I beat her to it. I study the all too familiar home, noting how much it hasn''t changed. I park on the side of the road and wait only a minute before she comes into view. I get out as she pulls her car in the driveway and step over to her. She jumps out and slams the door with a furiouse look on her face. ¡­ I¡¯ve never seen that face before. She yells at me, ¡°You had better not be playing around, Greg, or I swear to God I¡¯ll never forgive you!¡± I already got that message, thanks. Looks like her time alone only increased her doubt. I put my hands up in surrender. ¡°I only want to help.¡± She scowls at me before turning to her house and opening up the front door. Her groceries remain unattended to in her car. There is an odd smell in the air when I step in the house, the smell of chemicals and medicine. It¡¯s a far stretch from the usual pleasant fragrance the house once had. Rachel¡¯s mother Kelly steps into view to greet her daughter but she pulls up as she notices me. Her eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Actually, I had a good relationship with all of Rachel¡¯s family. Kelly scared me a bit because I knew her from years ago when she directed a theatrical program I was a part of at church where she was a stern leader, but actually getting to know her she is quite nice. I think I was pretty charming myself. ¡°I met him at the store,¡± Rachel says, answering her Mom¡¯s unspoken question while taking off her shoes, ¡°he¡¯s here to see Dad.¡± Kelly gives me a warm smile at that and gives me a hug as if the last year and a half didn¡¯t happen, ¡°I¡¯m happy you¡¯ve come. Tim will be happy to see you too.¡± I can feel Rachel scowl from the corner. I always wondered what Kelly and Tim had to say to Rachel about our breakup. It¡¯s probably just my own ego, but I bet they thought it was a mistake. She releases her hug on me and I spot Elena in the kitchen on a stool, munching on a cookie and staring at me as if wondering what I am doing there. I give her a friendly wave which she doesn¡¯t return. I wonder if she remembers me. I turn and look Kelly in the eyes. ¡°I hear Tim is not doing well?¡± With a sigh, Kelly replies, ¡°No, it was a good fight, but the occurrence this time was too aggressive. We have him home for now at least.¡± ¡­ Wow, strong woman. She¡¯s taking it rather well, much better than Rachel is at least. After a few more pleasantries with Kelly as Rachel hoveres off to the side, I was lead quietly to the living room where Tim was laid back on the lazy boy sofa. He was asleep with a game replaying on the TV. Tim looked worse than ever, the pleasantly plump and strong man was nowhere to be found, now a thin waxy person had taken his place. I stare it him in pity as Kelly moves over, waking Tim up. He awoke with a start, smacking his dry lips before noticing me. ¡°Hey, Greg!¡± He says surprised and happy, if not weakly, ¡°What are you doing here?¡± ¡°Checking up on you,¡± I say, taking a knee next to him. Kelly and Rachel stay back. ¡°I hear you are fighting the good fight?¡± Tim snorts back, ¡°Sure, like the Lions playing the Packers last thanksgiving, aye?¡± Ouch, these blasted Green Bay fans. I¡¯m pretty sure the Lions got crushed that game, too. ¡°Right,¡± I say, wanting to get this over with, ¡°Listen, I¡¯d like to heal you, are you okay with that?¡± ¡°Hah!¡± Tim laughs without missing a beat. ¡°Please do!¡± ¡°Great,¡± I say, taking his hand before he can give it more reasonable thought. ¡°This may feel a little weird like alternating dipping your arm in warm and then ice water, but bear with it and you¡¯ll be better in no time.¡± Tim gives me a curious glance before his eyes bulge out as the cleansing feeling washes over him. I decided that healing Tim should be a mixture of cleanse and heal, cleansing to get rid of the cancerous cells and heal to take care of the damage. I¡¯m not a doctor, so maybe I should have researched this a bit more before trying it out, but I¡¯m here now. I hope that this works the way I think it will. I ignore everybody¡¯s attention and focus as best as I can on the task at hand. After a minute, a silver grey sheen starts appearing on the outer skin of Tim and a second later he starts coughing. Alarmed, I look back at Rachel and say, ¡°A bowl please? Quickly!¡± Thankfully, Rachel does as I instruct, both of us ignoring Kelly¡¯s upset questions. We get the bowl in front of Tim in time for dark grey sludge to be coughed up, splashing inside the ceramic bowl. ¡­ Ewwww. Something to consider in future healing. A few more coughing fits later and a little more sludge seems like the last of it. An exhausted Tim leans back, closing his eyes as I tap out my mana, feeling that the job is complete. If nothing else, he should be good for another ten years. Kelly is staring at me with shock and outrage, but Rachel comes up close to Tim with a wet cloth and starts dabbing at his face, cleaning off the silver dust. ¡°How do you feel Dad?¡± she asks worriedly. ¡°Like I¡¯ve had my insides twisted around.¡± Tim growls back, not opening his eyes. I stand up, taking the disgusting bowl with me. My work here is done. ¡°What was that, what did you do to him?¡± Kelly demands, her eyes flashing. Then she looks at the bowl I was holding and asks in horror. ¡°That was inside him?¡± I hold up the bowl for her to see and say matter of factly. ¡°I healed him. This is the remains of his cancer cells, I cleared them up from his body. Its just non-toxic gray dust now, it won¡¯t be a problem. I also healed the damage caused by the cancer and the treatment, so he should feel great after a moment.¡± Kelly looks at me indignantly, but I just say with a smile, ¡°Where can we dispose of this?¡± With a huff, Kelly takes the gross bowl away from me and I turn to see Elena staring at me again. ¡­ Yeah, I¡¯m not anywhere near prepared to even think about what it would take and mean to try to ¡°heal¡± somebody like Elena much less deal with the repercussions. Ethics and morality get pretty gray there, no pun intended. I look back at Tim and smile. ¡°How are you feeling Tim? You are all healed up, cancer free!¡± Tim cracks and eye at me and Rachel looks up at me in amazement. ¡°Really?!¡± I just nod and I see Rachel bury her face in Tim¡¯s chest. Tim cradles her head in his left arm. I ask after the touching moment, ¡°How are you feeling Tim, really?¡± Tim ponders, his face taking on a confused look, before replying, ¡°good actually. Very good, I haven¡¯t felt like this in over a year. What did you do?¡± I roll my eyes. How many times do I have to say it? ¡°I healed you and got rid of your cancer.¡± Tim considers that, still clutching Rachel to his side. Then he abruptly sits up, undoing the reclining chair and standing up. Rachel gets up with him, her eyes red. Rachel and I study him as he stretches, feeling out his body. He is still thin, but he looks so much healthier already, even with the sheen of silver dust clinging to him. He¡¯ll want to take a shower. Tim turns to me, and I can see the fantasy finally settling in. ¡°How did you do that?¡± ¡°Classified,¡± I say as if I had practiced ease, ¡°But its related to the spheres. You¡¯ll know more about it in a week, but for now I need you to keep your healing a secret. If this leaks out the colonel will have my head. Do you understand?¡± At my sudden stern words, Rachel and Tim flinch and fisheye me, as if waiting for me to say that it was a joke. It wasn¡¯t and I didn¡¯t. Kelly walks back in the room and sees Tim standing, holding Rachel at his side. ¡°Honey, are you okay?¡± she gushes, ¡°should you be standing?¡± Really, that¡¯s insulting to me, you know. Tim looks at his wife as if not understanding her words. He says after a moment, ¡°I''m think I¡¯m healed, Kelly.¡± The next several minutes were pretty chaotic. Struggling between disbelief and unbridled joy, the trio seemed unable to comprehend what happened. I gotta say, I should have healed in a much more showy manner, like Jesus. I really needed Tim to jump up and shout, ¡°I¡¯m cured, I¡¯m cured!¡± but he did not, and instead I just talked in circles with them. Eventually, I got so annoyed I went to their kitchen and grabbed one of their big fancy cutting knives and sliced my left arm open, over the sink so the blood wouldn¡¯t get everywhere. Honestly, that first bit didn¡¯t really help my credibility much, but seeing their stunned faces as they watched the wound close with an unearthly pale glow allowed me to put my smug face on. That will teach you to doubt me. After securing their promises of silence, entertaining heartfelt gratitude and awe, declining their dinner invites, and collecting my stuff, I was exhausted. Dealing with them afterwards was ten times harder than actually healing the poor guy. I have no idea what he is going to tell his doctors and friends and family, but that¡¯s their problem. They are religious people, perhaps they¡¯ll just say it was a miracle, which, I suppose, it kinda was. Rachel saw me off, characteristically quiet, making conversation difficult with her. She always had me start these things and I never know what to say. Last time she saw me off at this door it was our breakup and I ended it with, ¡°I¡¯ll see you around, Rachel.¡± That was a dumb thing to say. ¡°Thanks for healing Dad.¡± Rachel said as I put on my shoes, surprising me. I give her a smile and say, ¡°You are welcome. I¡¯m glad I saw you today.¡± She fidgeted for a second before saying, ¡°I¡¯m sorry things didn¡¯t work out between us.¡± ¡­ What, you are sorry you didn¡¯t love me? As that how that works? ¡­ I guess I am still upset inside. I shrug off her words and pretend it doesn''t matter anymore. ¡°What are you going to do now?¡± That''s a good question. ¡°I¡¯ve got five hours until I have to catch a flight.¡± I say with a smile. I open the door and walk out, ¡°Until then, I¡¯ve got a score of people to try to heal.¡± ¡°Why the rush?¡± I just give her a glance and shake my head as I move to my car. What can I say? ¡­ ¡°Winter is coming.¡± Chapter 26 ~ Magic Trick Winter did come, and it came hard, in the form of an irate colonel yelling at me through my brand new phone not five minutes after I left Rachel''s house. How he found out what I had just done, I have no idea, but the man has his sources. Big brother type sources, if you know what I mean. ¡°I told you to keep a low profile, to not make any big waves until the operation is complete,¡± his voice yelled, uncharacteristically high pitched. ¡°and, literally, the first thing you do when you leave is go heal a man on his deathbed? Are you asking for trouble??¡± Actually, I bought clementines first, one of which I am peeling and eating while I am driving. When I saw it was the Colonel calling I had put it on speaker phone and set it to the side, hoping the distance would make it easier to bear. It didn¡¯t. Instead of replying, I let him just keep shouting at me. Hopefully that will help him cool off. ¡­ Dang, this is a good clementine. I admit, I am feeling pretty good about myself after just saving a man from imminent death, a friend even. I don¡¯t feel sorry at all. I keep ignoring the colonel until I hear some keywords that zoom my attention back to him. Something about ¡°come back here¡± and ¡°immediately¡±. I wonder what he means by that¡­ ¡°Colonel!¡± I try to interrupt, realizing that my attempt at a hard toned voice is probably negated due to the phone sitting upside down on the seat next to me. ¡°Tim was dying, and I had a chance to heal him! I couldn¡¯t not heal him!¡± ¡°You most certainly would have!¡± The colonel snaps, and before I can continue, he goes off again. Blah, blah, blah. ¡°Colonel!¡± I say again, actually pulling the phone up to speak into it this time, ¡°I don¡¯t have any time. I¡¯m probably going to die tomorrow.¡± ¡­ That shut him up. During the break I turn the phone off speaker and put it to my ear like a civilized human. I turn onto the highway, heading south. The colonel speaks first. ¡°Is this about Spook?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± I merge into traffic, throwing a look over my shoulder. ¡°You really think you are going to die? That the plan will be a failure?¡± I don¡¯t answer at first, trying to organize my feelings. Honestly, they are a mess, and have been for the last three days, ever since I first saw the spheres. I¡¯ve been doing my best to avoid thinking about the issue directly, but the high I got from healing must have cleared my head a bit, because now I feel I can really talk about it, instead of ignoring the large hairy mammoth in the room. ¡°I honestly don''t know, but my gut is telling me that what is going on is something bigger than you, or me, or the freaking US army. I believe it was a cosmic accident I lived through what I did and no amount of finagling on my part is going to stop it. The stuff I saw in that sphere, zombies, skeletons, fungus, all that death¡­ if it escapes, it¡¯s going to kill us all. I had hoped that all of it would just end when I got back, like a bad dream. But it hasn¡¯t. Instead, it''s staring me in the face, daring me to make a move. My gut is telling me that this is the end of the world.¡± I felt lightheaded after saying that, along with the feeling of my blood draining away from my face. The noise of the traffic fades away too. The colonel says something on the other end, but I can¡¯t hear it. ... I can hear my heartbeat, though, loud in right in my ear. ¡­ Did I just give myself a panic attack? I¡¯m on the freaking highway! ... A few more heartbeats later, I push through the fog. ¡°Greg? Are you there, Greg?¡± The colonel¡¯s voice pops over the phone, his voice filled with concern. ¡°Yes,¡± I say automatically, looking at the exits. My ramp is coming up soon, good, didn¡¯t miss it. ¡°Just thinking about some stuff.¡±. ¡°Why did you volunteer then, why are you going to go through with it, if you think its a lost cause?¡± I want to scream out that I didn¡¯t want to volunteer. That if I had my way, I would push my head into the sand so far I would never see the light of day again. I try to take a calmer approach. ¡°I don¡¯t want to. Believe me, Colonel, I would give anything for this to just go away. To just¡­ have the army take care of it without me. But it''s not going away and I don¡¯t think you can,¡± I reply back. ¡°I feel this is our only chance. Without me, anybody who enters a place like I was would be dead in five minutes max. There is no two ways around that. Even with me¡­ God, we are so low leveled compared to what we are going to find in there. It''s going to be a joke.¡± The colonel doesn¡¯t answer to what I said and I let the silence lingers a bit. ¡°What I am saying is that is that, while I am still here, I am going to help the people I can. While I can. Don¡¯t worry, Colonel, I¡¯m not about to open up a clinic downtown for the day. Just a few people I care about. I¡¯ll tell them to keep it a secret for now.¡± The colonel doesn¡¯t speak for a bit, but I can hear voices in the background. I let him discuss with his people. I admit I kind of got him hostage, but I don¡¯t care. My exit comes up and I take it. ¡°Greg,¡± the colonel¡¯s voice comes back on. ¡°If you were any other person, I¡¯d take you off the operation. We don¡¯t think you¡¯re mentally fit at this point to go back in. Like you said, it''s only been three days. Maybe we should postpone it.¡± ¡°You can¡¯t,¡± I say directly, my voice cracking a little. ¡°And you can¡¯t do it without me. It needs to be done and it needs to be done ASAP.¡± ¡°I know. Jeffery will be meeting you at your brother¡¯s house. You understand right? Try not to cause too much trouble, Okay?¡± I give him an affirmative, and I hang up. ¡­ Now I have a babysitter. Unexpectedly, the thought of his company warms me up a bit. Just a bit. I pull into my brother¡¯s house only minutes later and dog gone it, there is Jeffery already waiting for me. They must have dispatched him here when I first went rogue or they¡¯ve got a teleportation ability, I¡¯m not sure. Thankfully, he¡¯s dressed casually, or, is in civilian wear. I don¡¯t think my sister-in-law would be happy if I showed up with a soldier in fatigues next to me. ¡°Lieutenant.¡± I say, shutting my door after I stepped out into the driveway. I give him a sardonic grin, ¡°How long will you be keeping me company for?¡± Keeping it professional, Jeffrey just steps in stride with me as replies, ¡°I¡¯ve been permanently assigned to assist you. I¡¯ll be around to help.¡± Rolling my eyes, I say back, ¡°As much as I like you Lieutenant, they couldn¡¯t assign a lovely lady to me instead?¡± He doesn¡¯t answer, not that I expected him to. Besides, that was dumb, I shouldn¡¯t have even said that. What kind of person am I trying to make myself out to be? Clearing my throat as I reach the doorbell, I ask, ¡°Do you know how to make an overprotective, sensitive, and slightly paranoid invalid accept a healing?¡± Thought for a moment and Jeffrey shook his head. Dang, I don¡¯t either. ¡­ We wait for Kalli to answer the door. My sister-in-law, Kalli, did not take getting MS well. Not that I could expect anybody to take a paralysing disease that attacks your own body, slowly depriving you of movement and freedom, well, but she took it in a way that hurt those of us that cared about her. She hid from us, avoided us, as if her extended family were painful reminders of what she once had, and invested all her energy into being the best mother she could. Suddenly, being a mom to her child was what was defining her as a person, the one thing she could cling too. I guess, it let her focus on something productive and not on her problems. I can¡¯t begrudge that, but I just wish she would let us in some more. I know my parents wish it, and also wish more access to their first grandchild, a cute six year girl named Kathy. I don¡¯t get to see them much, but I am still close to my brother. I am actually the one who is closest to Kalli too, out of my family. It helps being single and available all the time. I help move furniture, Tvs, couches, yard work, I¡¯ve even babysat Kathy a few times. Still...If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. Bottom line is, I have no idea what I am going to say to Kalli. But I¡¯m not a stranger that she would shoo away at first sight. I knock on the door again and a plan slowly forms in my head. I turn to Jeffrey and politely tell him that it would probably be better if he waited in his car. He nods and leaves without a word of complaint, but doesn''t actually get into the car, he just leans against it and looks around, as if scouting the neighbrohood. ¡­ He doesn¡¯t look out of place at all¡­ ¡­ I¡¯ll take what I can get. The door slowly opens and Kathy stands there in front of me with a small smile. I see Kalli in her wheelchair behind her on the ramp leading to the porch we are on. Her eyes are lit up in surprise and confusion but before she can ask the obvious question I speak quickly with a large smile down at Kathy. ¡°Hey girl, wanna see a magic trick?¡± ¡­ It¡¯s like a bad pickup line. I didn¡¯t mean for it to come out like that. Fortunately, Kathy¡¯s a cute curious little girl and she bites on my bait with a cute giggle and nod of her head. Only waiting a half moment, I light up my hands with flare, the golden light obvious even in the daylight. I see Kathy¡¯s eyes pop open in delight and her jaw drop slightly. Shock and awe, baby. Kathy giggles again and asks, ¡°How are you doing that?¡± As if I''ve just shown her a card trick, her hands fidget by her side, fighting the urge to take my hands for a closer look. I lower my hands to let her and she grabs them and inspects them with surprising intensity. I look over at Kalli who is wearing a bemused face. Victory, I think. ¡°Sorry to just drop in Kalli, but can I speak with you for a bit? Are you two busy?¡± Kalli pauses for a second, but then shakes her head, ¡°No, we just finished lunch and we are about to begin our afternoon lessons.¡± then I see her face twist into confusion again and she asks, ¡°What are you doing here though? Don¡¯t you have to work?¡± I shrug and pick up Kathy who has an iron grip on my still glowing hands, ¡°Something important came up, can I come in?¡± I can tell that she is a little upset at the sudden intrusion, but I am already walking into the house with a giggling Kathy dangling off my hands. Kalli gives me a quick nod with a frown and instructs Kathy to let her uncle go, which she promptly does. Kalli turns around a rolls to the living room. I follow at an even pace, keeping my hands still glowing brightly, hoping she¡¯ll ask about them. ... Come on, you have to ask about them. I can¡¯t just bring up the subject of magical healing abilities myself here, you know? I sit comfortably on the couch, keeping my hands out in the open. Kalli wheels around, finding her corner before parking. She turns to me, expectantly, but then her eyes betray her and she stares down at my hands, her brows creasing. Come on baby, take the bait, just like your daughter. ¡­ After a moment she breaks. ¡°How are you doing that?¡± She blurts out. ¡°Yeah,¡± Kathy chimes in wiggling her body excitedly, ¡°how are you doing that?¡± ¡°Magic,¡± I say dramatically, my eyes wide as I waive my hands. Kalli rolls her eyes good naturedly, but Kathy eats it up. ¡°Wow!¡± Kathy exclaims, stars in her eyes. ¡°Yeah, I got them from when I was sucked into one of those black spheres.¡± I say without hesitation, ¡°I¡¯ve got healing powers.¡± ¡°Really??¡± Kathy said, as if I just told her that they were having her favorite meal for dinner tonight. I nod my head, while turning my eyes over to Kalli. She¡¯s got a big frown on her face. Biiig frown. She doesn''t like people influencing her daughter with ideas not approved by her. Or lies, even in jest, if I were joking. This would become a big no no and would end up with me getting a tired phone call from my exhausted brother tonight telling me exactly how and why I upset his wife today. Thankfully, I am not joking around. ¡°It''s true¡± I say seriously, giving Kalli a meaningful stare. ¡°I¡¯ve got healing powers.¡± I reach down and coat the couch I am on with flare, giving the room a bright golden sun. Its eating up my mp, but I think the visual aid will be essential here. I start my evil monologue. ¡°Three days ago I got trapped inside one of the spheres. Inside was a magical place I had to fight my way out of. Like an adventure. Inside I gained some powers in order to defeat the bad guys and when I won, I was able to come home. I still have my powers though, so I can strike down evil wherever it raises its ugly head.¡± Kathy¡¯s eyes are saucers. ¡°Like a superhero??¡± ¡°Exactly,¡± I say with a nod, giving my niece a bright smile. I let the flare on the couch dim. ¡°In a few days, I¡¯m going to have to fight another bad guy in a sphere. For now though, I also got the ability to heal people. So I am going to try to heal as many as I can, before I have to leave again.¡± Kathy¡¯s jaw is dropped comically low and she giggles wildly, looking up at her mom as if looking for confirmation. Kalli¡¯s giving me a grim stare. Ooo, that hurts. I put on a serious tone. ¡°I¡¯m not joking Kalli, there is a good chance I can at least help you out. Just give me a chance, there¡¯s no harm in it. Give me your hand and let me try.¡± I don¡¯t think I made a good case, judging by the eye she is giving me. I think she¡¯s about to kick me out of her house and start calling me a raving lunatic and for trying to give her false hope. I know how much false hope can hurt. I¡¯ve seen it in both Kalli and my brother before, when the new medications didn¡¯t work like they were supposed to, when the fundraising failed to meet expectations, when the illness just got worse, despite their prayer and trials. But Kalli surprised me. Keeping her frown on her face, she just stuck out her left hand at me, like resentfully passing over rent money. Like I said, I¡¯ll take what I can get. I guess my capital in this is more than I thought. Dropping to my knees in front of her wheelchair I grab the outstretched hand gently. ¡°You¡¯ll feel a gentle warmth flow through you. It might be uncomfortable, but it won¡¯t hurt.¡± I should have said ¡®shouldn¡¯t¡¯, but too late now¡­ ¡°You¡¯re going to heal, mommy?¡± Kathy asks excitedly, jumping off her seat and moving in close to watch my hands. ¡°Gonna try,¡± I say lightly, looking up to watch Kalli¡¯s frowny face. I unleash my heal on her and watch Kalli shift uncomfortably in her wheelchair as the energy moves through her. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I left the house an hour later. Kalli was¡­ healed. For the most part. Her muscles had lost much of their strength over the last few years and that¡¯s not something my ability can resolve, or else I''d look much less like a malnourished psycho. Still, seeing her stand up again, albeit a little wobbly, was really heartening. Unlike Rachel¡¯s family, Kalli took the healing¡­ in stride, for lack of a better phrase. There were no tears of joy, bubbling nonsense, and no shocking disbelief. Kathy took it well too, much more bombastically, with delight and lots of ¡°wow¡¯s¡±. She especially liked the pretty lights. After we were done, Kalli told Kathy to go to another room and play so that ¡®we could talk¡¯. I swallowed nervously at that, but Kalli gave me a warm smile as she pushed her daughter out of the room. I started in after Kalli was ushered out. ¡°I don¡¯t think I was able to get rid of the MS entirely. My ability mostly deals with healing injuries to the body and while all the damage your immune system did to you was repaired, at this point it''s going to start coming back again. I am more than willing,¡± I add hastily, ¡°to periodically heal you, I don¡¯t think it will have to be that often, maybe just a good handshake once a year. Until I can figure out how to heal you completely, that is.¡± Kalli shakes her head with a smile and moves herself to the couch. ¡°You¡¯re a good man, Greg.¡± she says evenly. ¡°Too good for our family. I can¡¯t thank you enough for what you have done for me. But you can drop the happy act if you want. Things must have been trying for you.¡± I let my bright smile drop from my face. Kalli manages to surprise me again, but she¡¯s always been the most real person I know. Authentic. I rub my hands and look a the floor. After a moment I add. ¡°I might not make it back after tomorrow. I might not be able to keep you healthy in the future. I had hoped to be able to cure you completely, but now I am afraid I am just making you go through the loss and pain again.¡± ¡°Where are you going?¡± ¡­ ¡°I can¡¯t really talk about it.¡± Kalli just gives me a look and then says, ¡°You gave me a gift Greg, I won¡¯t regret what you did for me, even if the symptoms do start appearing again. We¡¯ll be better at it next time, more prepared for what is happening. There is no need to feel guilty for what you have done.¡± ... Music to my ear holes, I think. Or is she just saying that? I give her a weak smile. ¡°I mean it when I say you are a good man, Greg. Better than me, I know. You have these gifts for a reason, whatever you are going to do, I believe you will succeed.¡± ¡°I think my gifts are a cosmic accident.¡± I reply shortly. ¡°And no amount of faith is going to help me.¡± Kalli shakes her head. ¡°No, that is not true. Out of all the people this could have happened to, it is you, the kindest, most selfless person I know. You have helped our family so much over the last several years, ever since my MS started acting up, asking for nothing in return. With the power you have now, I am sure it was meant for you.¡± I give her a light chuckle. ¡°You think too highly of me, I am just as selfish as the next person.¡± ¡°You are too hard on yourself.¡± I don¡¯t have an answer for that, and the silence lingers on a bit. I don¡¯t really believe what she said, but I can see why she thinks that way. Most people only see me as I want them to see me, but they don¡¯t know my thoughts. I think Rachel was right when she broke up with me, I was never able to be real with her. The truth was that I was selfish and wanted what I expected from a girlfriend and got frustrated when the relationship wasn¡¯t turning out the way I wanted. Hardly anything happens as expected though. ¡°So, it is dangerous, where you are going?¡± ¡°Extremely¡± ¡°Are you going to say goodbye to your family?¡± ¡°Try too. Most of them have no idea what is going on though, it¡¯ll be impossible to really say goodbye.¡± Kalli chuckles a little. ¡°Like a real hero from the stories, misunderstood by his friends and family as he goes off to fight the evil one.¡± I feel anger surface inside my chest a little at those words. ¡°It¡¯s not like that!¡± I say sternly. ¡°I am just a person, I am just me, some guy who just wants to curl up in the corner and cry at the magnitude of the problem. But I can¡¯t, that won¡¯t help anything!¡± I close my eyes and exhale slowly, letting the anger pass. Kalthy doesn¡¯t deserve to get yelled at. ¡°This isn¡¯t some story, this is real life. I wish with everything I have that I don¡¯t have to go back, but I do. We are really just a bunch of desperate people.¡± There is suddenly a knock on the door, loud and urgent. I give Kalli a look and get up quickly to check. Jeffery is there and by his countenance, he means business. I open the door and ask, ¡°What¡¯s up?¡± ¡°There¡¯s movement at the lake,¡± he says crisply. ¡°The Colonel would like you to come back.¡± ¡°Movement?¡±I ask. How odd. ¡°Are the skeletons coming back out? Can¡¯t you just gun them all down as they emerge?¡± He shakes his head, ¡°I don¡¯t have any details, but he¡¯s-.¡± I hear movement behind me and turn around to see Kalli coming up with her walker. ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± she asks as she arrives. ¡°Classified, Ma¡¯am.¡± Jeremy replies without batting an eye. Kalli turns her eyes onto me, ¡°Going to go save the world?¡± With a sigh I roll my eyes and grab my coat. ¡°I guess I¡¯ll have to try.¡± Kalli watches me tie my shoes, but before I leave she says, ¡°Keep safe, Greg. You can do this, you have all these amazing gifts. This is all happening for a reason.¡± I smiled and left her house. I didn¡¯t tell her I didn¡¯t believe her. Chapter 27 ~ Unfortunate Keith sat in his fancy trailer, hands on his fancy datapad, his eyes on Skully. He had already read the data pad many times, and had long since etched the view of the animated skeleton to his retinas, but still he gazed upon the creature as if it were a sparkly treasure. It really wasn¡¯t, it was just human bones in a dark room. But to Keith, it was so much more. There was so much to learn, so much to discover, Greg had only glimpsed the tip of what Keith assumed to be the metaphorical iceberg on knowledge the spheres represented. Magic. Could it be true? Was it all real, as stated plainly in front of him and on the datapad? They had yet to be able to actually directly measure the ¡®magic¡¯, but they could see the effects for itself. It was there! They just couldn''t understand it. Kinda like gravity, he mused. Humans can see the effects of gravity, define the limits of what gravity does, understand that mass attracts itself, but as to the why and how of it? Still working on figuring that out. And don¡¯t get him started on dark energy. It just goes to show there is still so much humans don¡¯t about this universe, much less another. Or is this all connected? Perhaps its a wrong hypothesis to think of the ¡®magic¡¯ shown here as something unnatural. Perhaps it''s simply a side of nature that humans simply haven''t discovered yet. As they say, the universe is endless. Keith leaned back smugly in his chair and thought about his life choices. Taking a gig with the US military had a lot of pros and cons associated with it, and, for many people, more cons than pros. Many of his peers had felt he had chosen poorly had locked himself up within the restrictions of US military policy. But look at him now, on a project none of them could have imagined. Not something he could have imagined before a few days ago, either, but that was the past. The future was the little skeleton before him, stoic and unmoving. Keith peered at Skully with a smirk. Soon, all the secrets would be his. And then published in a peer review journal for all the scientific community to gawk at! Oh, the sweet taste of vindication. Clarissa came up to him, looking at Skully as well. ¡°About, another two inches of growth on the forearm, Doctor. The growth seems to be consistent and is based on mass produced, rather than directly length.¡± Keith chuckled at her words. Watching the soldiers come in and restrain Skully so that Clarissa could measure his broken arm was amusing, but Skully was surprisingly docile today. Yesterday he was agitated and resisted all attempts at measuring him. But measure him they did, everything was measured about him using every method possible. Where the new mass was coming from, they did not know. Magic, or mana presumably. But for all intents, the growth was breaking the law of conservation of mass. The idea was terrifying. Was this ¡®mana¡¯ transforming from energy to mass? Could mana be classified as energy to begin with? Keith shivered lightly at all the unknowns. ¡°Doctor¡­?¡± Clarissa asked, in an alarmed voice, bringing Keith back from his imaginings. Keith looked and stood up in shock. Skully! The skeleton was literally disappearing before his eyes, his bones turning into dust and disintegrating. ¡°What!?¡± Keith exclaimed, plastering his face against the glass. ¡°Charles, what is happening to Skully? We need to save him!¡± Charles had come up too, standing next to him with wide eyes. ¡°Quickly, open the door, we need to get in there!¡± Keith shouted. ¡°Sir!¡± Clarissa warned, ¡°You can¡¯t do that, it¡¯s not safe!¡± And she was right, he couldn¡¯t do it. By the time he entered the codes and passed the security checks, Skully was completely gone. Keith knelt down at where Skully has been, despondent and in disbelief. Keith groped the floor vainly.¡°Not even any dust was left behind.¡± He gasped out. ¡°Did his mana run out?¡± Charles asked, standing halfway through the door. ¡°Maybe he couldn¡¯t sustain himself anymore? That would mean his entire mass was some sort of mana product.¡± ¡°How can that be?¡± Clarissa replied, ¡°He was healing his arm this whole time! Greg said that the mana was being produced by the creature itself. How can it run out?¡± ¡°Greg said that he produced mana,¡± Keith correted, standing up and getting a hold of himself, ¡°He only suspected that Skully produced some too. He really didn¡¯t know, in the end. We just didn¡¯t know¡­¡± Silence hung over the room for a little bit. ¡°I guess this means that the skeletons in the lake are gone too. That¡¯s good news we can provide. This may be disappointing, but this is ultimately good news for us.¡± The crack of gunshots sounded out over the property, making the three jump. Three sets of eyes peered out to the direction of the lake where more gunshots soon followed. ¡°Or not¡­¡± -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The ride back was tense, Jeffrey forced me to ride with him, leaving my car at my brother¡¯s house. He had pulled out a siren and put it atop his roof as were heading back to my house and was doing his best to get more details on the issue. Nobody was giving me answers when I tried to call over my work phone. Jeffery kept getting reports over his phone, but it wasn¡¯t anything I could understand. Eventually, we got some info from the camp. ¡°The Colonel wants to talk to you,¡± Jeffrey said, sounding harassed, ¡°Apparently the skeleton we were studying disappeared into thin air and then all hell broke loose. Several new creatures appeared out of the lake, but they don''t match the description of any of the creatures you described.¡± I felt my stomach plumet. ¡°Can¡¯t you guys just shoot them up? What¡¯s the problem¡± ¡°These new creatures don¡¯t appear affected by conventional weapons. Reports indicate there are all shadowy and stuff. They are incorporeal.¡± ¡°Incorporeal?¡± I repeat stupidly, ¡°like ghosts or whatever?¡± Jeffery nods back, not taking his eyes off the road. ¡°Know anything about them?¡± Unfortunately, no. I shake my head. ... Ghosts, huh. Or maybe wraiths. It would fit with the theme at least. I certainly never saw any though. Any where the Hell did they come from? Were they propagating down there? ¡­ Eeh, bad thought. ¡°There wasn¡¯t anything like that except for Pesos.¡± I say, after a moment, ¡° But she seemed unique to me though, a specific curse done to me by the head mage, or whatever. Nothing like that could be done by the skeletons. They were what they were, no extra abilities.¡± I paused and then added, ¡°Beyond the obvious.¡± Jeffery nodded, turning a corner with screeching tires. I had to brace myself to keep steady. ¡°The rules of the creatures always seemed to follow some sort of logic based reality,¡± I mused out loud. ¡°Keeping the settings and creatures in line with what resources were available. If a new creature is created, like a ghost, it couldn¡¯t be especially powerful, just different. Assuming the skeletons did somehow create these things, they would be specialized. Weak in some areas, but powerful in others.¡± The next five minutes were the loudest quiet I had ever experienced. Suddenly, Jeffery¡¯s hand almost punches me in the face and I flinch back. Then I see its a phone he giving to me. ¡°The Colonel wants to speak with you.¡± ¡°What¡¯s he want?¡± I ask nervously. ¡°Just take the damn phone!¡± Okay¡­ Why didn¡¯t he just call me on mine? ¡°Hello?¡± I say, practically yelling to be heard over the sirens. ¡°You don¡¯t know anything about this? Some way to actually hurt these things would be damn appreciated!¡± I heard the Colonel yell out at me, angry. The force in the voice frightens me. ¡°No, I haven¡¯t seen these before. What¡¯s happening?¡± ¡°Total containment failure! Nothing we do affects these things, bullets and explosives barely phase them! And in the meantime these things just fly up to my men unimpeded! They¡¯ve got this touch, anything that comes into contact with them gets frozen, our equipment, the buildings, hands and whatever body part they touch. Several of those f***ers flew around the prison trailer so much it is basically an igloo now!¡± I can feel the blood flowing out of my face. I ask quickly, ¡°Do you know if Keith and his assistants made it out okay?¡± ¡°Keith¡¯s going to lose an arm to frostbite,¡± the Colonel bites out. ¡°But he¡¯ll live. The others are fine too, the ghosts aren¡¯t attacking anything unprovoked, for now. They are on the move. We can slow them down, but we can¡¯t really do anything. We¡¯ve got a lot of casualties here, but no fatalities.¡± I can see the scenario now, helpless soldiers facing phantoms down and with what just might as well amount to wooden sticks.. I thought that we were safe with the skeletons in prison at the lake. I was wrong. I give the Colonel a breakdown of what I had just told Jeffery. ¡°They sound weak, but are invulnerable to bullets means they¡¯ll be extra affected by other means. Have you tried flame throwers?¡± I hear the Colonel snort in reply. ¡°Because they are ice based, you think heat will hurt them?!¡± ¡°Maybe¡­¡± There is silence for a moment. ¡°I can probably fight them,¡± I hear myself saying, my heart beating loudly. ¡°My abilities can probably affect them, no problem. But I would guess that heat would be an effective deterrent, if nothing else. Where are the now?¡± ¡°Gone, gone east, it appears. A few skeletons were spotted and one was taken out, but they did not join in the fight. It appears these things new creatures were mainly focused on escort, otherwise casualties would have been worse. This is just as crazy as it is. Jesus Christ.¡± There was a pause and I let it hang. Where were they going? There only two things I can think of that they could be linked too... ¡°Do you know where they are going, by any chance?¡± the Colonel asks, suspiciously. My mouth feels dry and it is hard to get the words out. ¡°Can you get more specific with the direction they went?¡± I hear the Colonel sigh and reply, ¡°Not at this point, east, just east. We had a chopper with eyes on the skeletons, but it got taken down shortly thereafter, swarmed by those god awful creatures. We¡¯ve sent out as wide a cone for civilian evacuation as possible as well as as a tight perimeter, for all the good that it does. I¡¯ll send word to try out heat based weapons. Their MO seems to be stealth for now, they aren¡¯t attacking unless the skeletons are spotted.¡± ¡­. That leaves out the spear, that had gone down south somewhere. After a second I say to Jeffery, ¡°Change course Jeffery, we need to head to my hotel.¡± He gives me an eye and I follow up by saying, ¡°I think they are heading to my hotel room.¡± I hear the Colonel reply in a gravelly deep voice though the phone, ¡°Why?¡± I feel my stomach roiling, so I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Keeping my eyes shut I say, ¡°I might have, uh, kept something from you. There is an item I am keeping there. Its.. its the core of the instance, I think. I¡¯m not sure what it does, but I bet everything its what they are after. A power source? Maybe. But I think they are trying to get back. Back to the instance. Maybe even restart it. Who knows what the core can actually do?¡± I feel the car turn suddenly, and then shoot off in a new direction. The next voice I hear is the Colonel¡¯s. ¡°Is there anything else you are keeping from us?¡± I shake my head, but then realize he can¡¯t see me. ¡°No, that¡¯s it. I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m sorry. I didn¡¯t think it would be a big deal. I didn¡¯t think the skeletons could get out of the lake. I wanted it. I don¡¯t know. I am sorry, it was a mistake.¡± ¡°Yes it was. Jesus Christ, Greg, we are in the middle of a Goddamn crisis, one which you strongly push up to take seriously and you pull this shit on us!? And a lot of civilians are in danger! You should have goddamn told us!¡± He falls silent, but I know what he wants to say. His next words don¡¯t surprise me either, ¡°We¡¯ll discuss this afterwards.¡± ¡°Yes sir,¡± I swallow. ¡°I¡¯ll take care of this.¡± ¡°Good, you are on your way to the Hotel? What do you need?¡± I¡¯m having trouble thinking straight, but I formulate a rough plan. ¡°If the skeletons are really after the core, we can intercept them. I want a small team, armed and stuff. I can protect a small team, but probably not more than that. I¡¯ll focus on the wraiths, we let the guys with guns take out the skeletons. We move in and get the stone before the skeletons do, then they¡¯ll come to us. Or we just fight them for it.¡± ¡°Sounds good, I¡¯ll get some people to meet you there. Lieutenant Jefferey will be staying with you and he will be in charge. You understand?¡± I nod, but don¡¯t say anything. I lean back in my chair and wonder how I could have messed up so badly. Over the noise of the car, vehicle sirens, and Jeffery speaking quickly, I hear the faint sound of the tornado warning. I suppose this is a disasterUnauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. Together, the Colonel and I hash out a quick plan for dealing with the enemies. The call stops when we arrive and our conversation ends with a, ¡°Good luck, Greg.¡± We arrive at the hotel shortly thereafter. The city had been put on lockdown as soon as this crisis started, so there were thankfully few people on the streets and roads. The hotel was being evacuated though, police and national guards ferrying the last of the confused and panicked occupants out. I jumped out of the car with Jefferey and together we run up to an armored carrier parked in the lot. ¡°Shotguns would work the best.¡± I say to Jefferey, feeling stupid giving out advice to the profesional soldier. ¡°Already on it,¡± he says with a small grin. Around him are several men and a woman, already outfitted and looking bewildered. National guards by the look of them, around my age and dressed in fatigues. They look uneasy, but Jeffrey takes command of the group with a word. ¡°Names?¡± he asks briskly, taking a sleek, back gun and checking it out quickly. ¡°Corporal Duncan,¡± the woman states with a salute. The others follow suit. ¡°Private Jones¡± ¡°Private O¡¯hara¡± ¡°Private Smielnisk¡± Jeffrey nods before introducing himself and me as just Greg, a specialist. ¡°Here¡¯s our objective, we are to secure and retrieve a small object in Greg¡¯s Hotel room. We will bring it back here. Greg here will give you a rundown.¡± He nods to me and I flinch as the sudden attention. The five pairs of eyes, not a few of them bewildered and uncertain by what they see. ¡­ Here goes nothing. I clear my throat and start, ¡°Good news and bad news. Good news is that our enemies are not particularly dangerous. These are weak animated skeletons and some ghost thingies. I¡¯m going to call them wraiths. They¡¯ve got swords and arrows and we have shotguns. We are going to destroy them. I spent two weeks with them alone, constantly fighting, and I kicked their a-asses more times than I can count.¡± I fumbled at the swear word and I redded and cough quickly to get past it. I shouldn¡¯t have tried to appear like a badass, I think that is literally the first time I swore in front of people intentionally. It didn¡¯t come off well, so much for inspiring confidence. I continue, ignoring what happened. ¡°Even better is that the skeletons generally act with single minded determination and pursue their objective endlessly without retreat. That is a good thing, because as soon as we have the object they want, they will keep coming at us until they are all destroyed. We don¡¯t have to worry about tracking them down.¡± ¡°The bad news is the wraiths that are causing trouble. Reports indicate that they are pretty close to impervious to traditional weapons. They have ice attacks too, but so far limited to touch so don¡¯t let them touch you if you want to avoid frostbite and potential death. That said, my abilities will stop them and destroy them, so don¡¯t worry about them. I¡¯ll focus on them and protect you, and you focus on the skeletons. For the most part, they look like medieval suits of armor, but the rest should just be walking skeletons. Easy to identify.¡± I gesture around the empty parking lot, ¡°this wide open space will work for a stand. Any questions?¡± The soldiers are giving me a suspicious look. The one on the right, Private Smielnisk, I believe, asks pointedly, looking over at Lieutenan Jefferey ¡°Is this a joke? What the Hell are we doing here?¡± I whip my head around to Jefferey and glare at him as hard as possible. At least he has the decency to look sheepish. He clears his throat and asks the group, ¡°What have you been told about this situation, Corporal?¡± Looking at me uncertainty, the woman replies, ¡°Not much sir! Our reserve group was activated three days ago. Word was another sphere was located nearby and we were but on standby in case of emergency. Then this happened, we were called to help lockdown the city. We were the closest nearby when orders came down to meet up with you and¡­ Specialist Greg here.¡± ¡°Right,¡± Jeffrey says, obviously thinking quickly. ¡°Well, consider yourselves cleared for more details. There was indeed a sphere nearby and they open up a gateway to another world. Hostiles have managed to escape from ours and these beings are heading here. Our task is to intercept and destroy them, while securing the object of their intent, in a hotel room here. The creatures look like skeletons and are extremely vulnerable to gunfire and are only armed with swords and spears. The only wrinkles are some flying incorporeal creatures that we are calling wraiths. Specialist Greg will be taking care of them.¡± Four sets of disbelieving eyes look back at us. I can¡¯t fully repress a groan from escaping me. Private Smielnisk speaks first, repeating his words, ¡°is this a joke?¡± Jeffrey replies with gritted teeth, ¡°No, it is not, Private. Weird things will be happening in the future, people, you had best get flexible. Greg, perhaps a small demonstration?¡± What the Hell? I have to explain the situation to these people? I understand ¡®need to know¡¯, but come on! How are they expected to face an enemy they don¡¯t understand. I keep my glare on Jeffrey and ask exasperatedly, ¡°What on earth could I do that would possibly convince them? I feel like half the soldiers at my house still think I am making all this stuff up and they have seen everything.¡± Still, I activate my flashiest skill, flare, and light up my whole body. I speak loudly while the soldiers stare at me, distrusting. ¡°Look people, we have little time. The murderous skeletons are on their way here as we speak. We must not let them get the core! I don¡¯t care if you believe me or not, I just want you to shoot any skeleton you see on the way, got it!?¡± The moment lingers for a moment before Jeffery clears his throat and says authoritatively, ¡°Let¡¯s go people, my orders are from the Colonel himself. Orders are orders, you¡¯ll all see soon enough. Here, these are for you, Greg.¡± He hands me a long police baton and a police shield from the carrier. Nice. I would have killed to have these at the start of the instance. I turn off my flare, not wanting to waste any more mana. I fit the shield on my arm with some help from the neutral faced corporal. Unnaturally neutral faced. ¡°Let¡¯s go!¡± Jeffrey states as soon as I am ready. ¡°Keep close to Greg and be prepared for action. We are racing.¡± Jeffrey leads our group across the parking lot, the four others assuming a formation with me in the middle. It''s hard to see around with them surrounding me like that, but I let Jeffrey lead. Right before we enter the empty building, I hear Jeffrey shout, ¡°Heads up! Wraith incoming!¡± I turn to look to the left where Jeffrey is pointing and see the wraith. ¡­ It''s not much to see. It still mid afternoon and the sun is out on this cloudless sky. It doesn¡¯t appear to affect the wraith though, like I would have hoped. Its equal parts black and translucent, easy to spot on the blue sky. There are no eyes or recognizable body features as far as I can tell, except for a pair of indistinct claws attached to arms outstretched as if to strangle somebody. A small steady scream seems to be emanating from it, like a tea kettle. ¡°What the F** is that!¡± One of the privates scream, all guns swiveling towards the threat. ¡°Hold your fire!¡± Jeffrey yells, before turning to me. ¡°Greg?¡± ¡°On it,¡± I say, stepping out in front. ¡­ I hope they don¡¯t accidentally shoot me in the back. I know its a stupid think to think of right now, but its odd feeling that many guns behind you. As soon as I step in front the lone wraith targets me, bombing down at me at a 45 degree angle. I put up a large shield a few feet in front of me but don¡¯t know how it will react to my shield power, so I also bring up my police shield and coat the front with flare. I am sure that will be effective. The wraith¡¯s trajectory doesn¡¯t change at all and it''s coming down pretty fast. I brace for impact and soon enough it hits my shield. ¡­ The wraith explodes like large water balloon falling to the ground. I feel almost no drain on my shield power from the impact either. Nice. From behind me I hear a muffled oath, but I ignore it in favor of inspecting the remains of the wraith. The colonel said that some tactics had proved effective at slowing the wraiths down, but they always fixed any injuries immediately afterwards with no apparent permanent damage. While they were never able to disperse the wraith like I had, I was not surprised to see it refroming at an alarming speed. I doubt I had done anything to it to actually hurt it. Yet. Before it completely reformed I stepped forward and stab down at it with my police baton, flared up of course. The wraith certainly did not like that. Another disconcerting scream arose from it, a giant hole now growing from it where flare had hit it. Even while the edges of the wraith were solidifying, the center hole was rapidly expanding in a golden brilliance and soon enough the wraith was consumed in a shower of bright light, before disappearing completely. I stared down at the stop it had disappeared, making sure it was gone for good. A slight bit of frost was left at the spot, but even that was starting to melt. I turned back to my group with a grin. ¡°See?¡± I said to Jeffrey who was looking back at me with an unreadable expression. ¡°I told you they would be weak. That took almost no power to kill. Even the skeletons are harder than that for me.¡± The looks of the national guards had turned slack jawed, even the stoic Corporal. Private Jone¡¯s fall to his knees, ¡°Mary, Mother of God, protect this one from Hell¡¯s fury.¡± ¡°F***ing ghosts!¡± Smielnisk says in an outburst, ¡°I didn¡¯t F***ing sign up for this!¡± Private O¡¯hara had a very different reaction ¡°Holy shit, that was awesome!¡± I have him a smile. ¡°Thanks. Lieutenant, if one is here, then the rest must be nearby.¡± Jeffrey shook his head and gave Private Smielnisk a killing glare. ¡°You will do what you are called to do to serve your country.¡± After forcing a quiet affirmation from Smielnisk, Jeffrey spoke up, ¡°Right, let¡¯s go! You saw a part of what we are up against. The wraiths are known to be able to move through walls, so we will be at a disadvantage in there. Stick close to Greg, we are doing this as fast as possible. Communicate any sighting of the wraiths or skeletons. Greg, can you keep that shield up around us as we move?¡± I shake my head. ¡°No, unfortunately the shields are stationary once created and I don¡¯t have the mana to constantly be creating new ones. Let me know when you see one and I¡¯ll shield you. We¡¯ll need to stop in order to deal with each one. We can¡¯t have them following us as we run, or else we will get swarmed.¡± Jeffrey nods at me. ¡°Pity. you heard him! Let¡¯s make this fast! Let Greg handle the wraiths, our targets are skeletons. Let''s move!¡± Only a little reluctantly, the group moved on and entered the hotel. ¡­ I wish I had a spear. The baton is nice, but I liked the reach of the spear. I¡¯d take a staff at this point too, but the baton is what I¡¯ve got so I guess will be keeping it. The hotel lobby is empty of course, looking erie, even with all the lights on. We are all keeping a sharp eye out for more wraiths. My room is on the fifth floor of course, so an easy extraction is not to be. The elevators are out due to how easily it could be ambushed, so we head to the stairs. I¡¯m just glad I still have my card key on me in all the confusion. While I¡¯m sure we could just bust open the door, it would be faster to use the goddamn card. We meet our next wraith right before we entered the stairwell and I kill it in much the same matter. Thankfully, it came down the hallway at us. While they can go through walls, it appears they prefer not to. After exposing the protoplasmic goo we move on, only a few more explanations from the privates. In the stairwell another two come at us, one from above and another through the wall. The one through the wall is noticeably slower at emerging, frost and ice appearing around it like a flower. So I just plant a shield box around it and target the one above instead. The one above hits my shield like the other ones had and becomes a pile of goo on my barrier above us. ¡°Watch out¡± I say as I undo the shield and see it plop to the ground in between us. The soldiers step back and I stomp on the partially reformed remains with a flared shoe. It explodes in a spectacular light shows, showing us with bits of ice. I turn back to the one in the wall to see it is gone and the ice pieces there melting and falling. ¡°Anybody see where the second one went?¡± Jeffrey asks, looking around. ¡°It retreated back into the wall, sir!¡± Jones calls out. I make a face. ¡°I don¡¯t like that. They might be changing their tactics.¡± Jeffrey nods before indicating us to move on. We made it to the fifth floor before we encountered any more enemies. As soon as we stepped onto the floor, three wraiths were waiting for us. Instead of attacking immediately, they hold back a little, circling us. I grunt and look around. On second thought It probably would have been easier to do this with just me and Jeffrey, but the Colonel insisted on backup. We watched each other for a few moments with no movement on either side. Jeffrey sighed and asked, ¡°You need to touch them to kill them?¡± I nod. ¡°What do you suggest?¡± Meh, I don¡¯t know. ¡°Let¡¯s push forward. We can only engage them if they engage us. We just need to get the core. Then we can head back outside toward open spaces. We¡¯ll have an advantage there.¡± ¡°Right.¡± My room is at the other end of the hallway unfortunately. Our trip was tedious, at each opening as we moved the wraiths would dive in and I was forced to defend everybody. At this point, the joviality I had been feeling was gone and I had to keep a careful balance on teh three wraiths as we moved down the corridor. I didn¡¯t appreciate the wraith¡¯s change in tactics, it was much easier when they just came at me. As it was, they stayed out of range and I struggled to keep the shields up are we moved. The wraiths circle us like buzzards. I could feel my mana steadily declining as we moved and I needed to worry about my reserves. Maintaining the defense was taxing and I could feel myself tiring. The stalemate continued until we reached the end of the corridor, a 90 degree turn to the right and we would be in view on my room. As I turned the corner, in front of the group and keeping an eye on the three wraiths, I was surprised to see an armored skeleton waiting for me. The ambush surprised me and although I leapt back immediately, crashing into the man behind me, a good slice still got past my inexpertly wielded police shield and slid across the stomach, the white hot feeling familiar and painful. While the man behind me was occupied holding me upright, the others moved into action. Before the armored skeleton could take a second swing at me several explosions rang out, making my ears ring, and the armoured skeleton blew apart spectacularly. The wraiths took the opportunity to attack though and more shots rang out with some panicked voices. Jeffrey shouted my name desperately, so I did my best to focus. One wraith had gotten Corporal Duncan, swiping at her arms and face as she screamed and flailed uselessly. Another had set upon private Smielnisk on the side, with similar effects. Ignoring the pain in my stomach, I stepped forward and carelessly threw some shields around desperately to block off further attack and then stumbled to the set upon soldiers. Too out of it to think of something clever, I just touched each body and activated flare over their entirety. As the wraiths were touching them, they immediately got a taste of the skill and they flinched back, shrieking and flying around erratically until the golden glow slowly enveloped them. With two of them gone, the and the third wraith floating impotently outside a shield, I leaned forward and inspected the damage. Although bloody, my wound was nothing I haven''t experienced before. I healed in seconds before looking at the two wounded soldiers. Both were sporting black and dead flesh where the wraiths had gotten them. The corporal¡¯s left side of her face was dead and flakey, her eye yellow and empty. Ice and frost formed dark cysts on her skin. She was whimpering loudly. Private Smielnisk, was in a similar condition. ¡°Jesus Christ, Smielnisk!¡± Private Jones cried out, holding onto his friend. ¡°Oh my God!¡± Jefferey was inspecting the Corporal and he looks up at me. ¡°Yes.¡± I say before Jeffrey speaks. I reach towards the Corporal first and activate heal. Her black, dead flesh on her face slowly glows before changing colors and turning to healthy., the ice melting, the water running down and damping her clothes I can¡¯t give her a full heal though, just enough to keep her alive. I look at the damage with regret before turning to do the same for Smielnisk. ¡°I don¡¯t have enough mana to heal them both completely right now.¡± I say to Jeffrey. ¡°They¡¯ll live and after we are done here I¡¯ll fix them up proper.¡± ¡°Understood,¡± Jeffrey said gravely. Then he looks at me, ¡°If the skeletons are already here, then they probably have the core already.¡± I just nod and then look down the hall to my room. The door is busted open, wood pieces scattered violently around the floor. I stand up and look at the remaining wraith. I try to box it in quickly, but it escapes and retreats down the hall, disappearing into my room. I grit my teeth. ¡°Get up.¡± Jeffrey orders to the wounded. ¡°You¡¯ll be fine, Greg will heal you both up to perfection when our mission is over. Grab your weapons and follow me, we¡¯ve got some skeletons to destroy.¡± ¡°You can heal people?¡± Private Jones asks, looking nonplussed. ¡°Who are you?¡± ¡°I''m Greg.¡± I reply slowly, looking at the Corporal as she is gingerly raised up off the floor. She gives me an odd look, her left eye still non-functioning. ¡°I¡¯ll fix your eye later, I promise,¡± I say, wishing I could do so now. Her left arm barely functional, but she grabs her sidearm, slinging her shotgun on her back gingerly. She gives me a determined expression. Private Smielnisk is in a better condition than the corporal, his arms still working well enough hold his shotgun. He¡¯s oddly silent though, maybe in shock. I¡¯m not sure. Before we move on I say to Jeffrey, ¡°I¡¯m almost out of Mana. I¡¯m saving the last bit for the last wraith. We need to hurry.¡± Jeffrey nods and we move out. I hope there is only one wraith left at least. We make it to the door of my room without further issues, trampling over the remains of the skeleton we blasted. We surround the door for a second before moving in with a quick countdown, guns raised. Inside we immediately see two skeletons holding knives and facing us as if to ambush. They are unceremoniously blasted apart in roaring shots. I look around for the last wraith, the only real threat left. I find him in the corner, hiding directly behind the only other being in the room. A skeleton. But like the wraiths, I do not recognize it. Instead of a sword or bow or knife, the thing is holding a staff its right hand and has an odd headpiece on, looking somewhat like a dreamcatcher. His whole appearance screams mage to me. In his left hand he is holding up the core. My yell to the people with guns to kill it are drowned out by another explosion as three of them fire at once at the skeleton mage. Instead of blowing apart as I expected it to, the space in front of the skeleton warps slightly like a mirage. It stays shimmering. I step forward to attack it directly with my baton when a familiar feeling of weightlessness takes me. Within moments, I am suddenly rising off the floor and the core transforms into a black softball, slowly growing bigger. ¡­ Holy crap! Is this really happening?! ¡­ I struggle to move forward but I only flail uselessly in space. ¡°Greg!¡± I hear Jeffrey yell out behind me. Awkwardly turn my head and look back to see the four soldiers in a similar predicament, lifting off the floor slowly. I turn back to the core and already it is as large as a beach ball. ¡­ Yeah, this is happening. I don¡¯t think I can stop it. ¡­ Oh God. I don¡¯t want to go back. Please, don¡¯t make me go back there. ... ¡°Everybody, brace yourselves!¡± I yell back. ¡°The core is activating! It''s going to take us into the instance. Stick together!¡± Panicked cries are coming from behind me, but before much else happens, the core pulses and then expands suddenly, eveloping my vision with blackness. Chapter 28 ~ Entry I didn¡¯t lose consciousness this time when I entered the instance. I could have been killed any number of ways within minutes, if not seconds, if that had been the case. I did get beat up and thrown around a lot though, like what happened when I shut down that core last time. When the turbulence ended I picked myself up off the ground as quickly as possible. Just in time to see the roof start collapsing around me. The plaster, wood and drywall of the ceiling fell down on me in a thunderous crash as the hotel room materialized, incomplete, from our world. The collapsing pieces beat me to the ground and knocked the breath out of me. I think it also broke something in me. Rib, back, I¡¯m not sure. I¡¯ve had worse. Thankfully, the five floors of rooms above us didn¡¯t come through as well, otherwise I would have been a pancake beneath the weight. I suppose I should be grateful that my first transfer here included a stable roof, else I would have died straight away. ¡­ But I am not grateful, I am angry. Very angry. With a burst of mana, I heal myself and push the drywall off me, ready to destroy the skeleton that brought me here. The sight that greeted me gave me pause. It was the sick green landscape I had come to hate with the core of my being. Dead mossy trees hung and laid around, fungus ridden underbrush filled the land, and the hazy green mist floated around and blocked the sky with its deathly hue. The sickly earth was all the same. The goddamn same. A slew of notifications came, but I ignored them in favor of the target in front of me. The skeleton mage with the core was pushing himself up off the ground as well, looking shaken. Loose materials slid off him and the wraith was floating anxiously behind it. The core was back to its original size and the skeleton mage took one look at me and beat a hasty retreat, pushing through the ruins and somehow tethering the core to him with a spell, limping slightly all the while. That bastard. I¡¯m not going to let him get away I moved to run after him but the wraith foolishly comes down at me. I don¡¯t hesitate at all but feel my blood boiling, preparing to destroy it. It won¡¯t be able to stop me. But then it swerved and flew past instead, I eyed it as it circled me before heading towards the collapsed hotel room. ¡­ The soldiers were there, partially buried as well. They had taken the trip much harder than me and were lying on the ground, moaning. Struggling to get up. ¡­ Goddamn it! If I stop to help them the skeleton would get away and my chance for an easy victory would be gone. Truly, on this mission, I would have been much better without them. I am ashamed to say I hesitated for a second. Just a brief second. But I ran back after the wraith hollering as loud as I could. The stupid thing was agile, but not fast. It didn¡¯t bother attacking the downed men, but veered and flew up and away. Soon it crested the hill and was gone, its task complete. ¡­ That will not be the last I see of him, I bet. I looked back at the retreating skeleton mage, barely in view. I could still run after it at this point, but it would be the same as killing all these people. I take a second to look at my notifications.
Warning! You have been attacked by instance soul curse! Countdown until death
I cleansed myself of the damned curse and looked down at soldiers sitting up and groaning. ¡°What- What-,¡± O¡¯hara was sputtering, holding his head. ¡°Where are we? What happened?¡± ¡°Oh, Jesus Christ, Lord Almighty! Save me!¡± Jones was whimpering. Nobody else was saying anything, they looked to be in shock. Jeffrey seemed to be handling it the best. After pushing himself to his feet, he slowly surveyed the dreary landscape before turning to me. ¡°Is this inside the instance?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± I reply plainly. ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± Smielnisk asked harshly, ignoring the pain his cracked face was giving him as he spoke. Jeffrey nodded at me with a resigned scowl before speaking up. ¡°Listen up, we are inside one of the black spheres. It''s called and instance and it''s a whole nother world in here. We can get out and return home, Greg has done so before. But it will be hard and we will need to work together.¡± ¡°Jeffrey,¡± I say, turning to the lieutenant, ¡°Do you have any notifications on the top right of your vision?¡± I see Jeffrey eyes unfocus as he locates them. ¡°Yes.¡± I nod my head. ¡°Open them up and tell me what it says.¡± After a moment he answers with a question, ¡°I am cursed? And infected?¡± I nod and look around, seeing similar reactions from the others. ¡°Yes, every day you will be cursed and die within five minutes if not cured. I can cure you though.¡± I reach out to Jeffrey and cast a cleanse on him. It takes more out of me than I expected, but I get the job done. I glance at Jeffrey who gives me a nod. ¡°Other than the curse, this place is also filled with illness and disease. Simply breathing deeply will get you infected. I will need to cleanse you of that as well. It won¡¯t kill you immediately but will slowly paralyze you and then kill you over the course of an hour.¡± I see the dawning horror on each of the soldiers'' faces as they realizations slowly sink in. Some of them looked too stunned to get up. I pull up my status. I haven¡¯t seen it since I attacked the temple a lifetime ago and a part of me is relieved to see it again. That feeling twists in my gut.
Inner Light: (level 17) A unique light attribute class able to learn every light attribute skill and uses mana directly for every skill. Class locks all other potential attributes and skill types. Skill usage limited only to quantity of Mana available
Mana: 30/462.2106472 Regen: 22.8516944 per minute
Skills: Cleanse Clear body of foreign influences
Heal Enhances natural healing
Flare Coat external surfaces with light energy to give a light attribute to object
Edge:Sub-Skill of Flare Coat the edge of a blade with light energy to give a specialized offensive light attribute to object
Barrier:Sub-Skill of Flare Project a corporeal light energy plane to create a specialized defensive light attribute barrier
Just as I remember it. With a little update, apparently I am level 17 now. I suppose my exploits would be worth a couple levels. I move to each of them, cleansing them as the mana comes in, and keep talking. ¡°However, this place, while most certainly is Hell and everything in it is trying to kill you, you should be able to acquire abilities like I do. My healing and flare abilities come from this place, so we will have to see what kind of abilities we can get for you guys until we attack the skeletons, take out the core and return home.¡± Gotta pretend to know exactly what I am doing here. Fake it till you make it! I mean, it is a good plan, but I am used to soloing this, not escorting a group around. It was hard enough for me to survive alone, much less with these millstones. I feel sick, thinking about how many ways these people could die. I reach the last guy, Private Jones. He¡¯s not taking this very well, and I see him shaking while still seated on the ground. I crouched down next to him and put my hand on his shoulder. I am out of juice though, so I will have to wait a little. ¡°How are you doing, Jones?¡± I ask, not sure what else to say. He flinches a little at my voice as if he didn¡¯t realize I was next to him and then looks up at me. His mouth opens and closes with no sound a few times. Then he whispers, ¡°Have my deeds fallen short? Is this purgatory? ¡±This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source. I shake my head. I can understand where this guy is coming from. I remember what it was like, dropping suddenly in this hellhole with no idea what was going on. He then says suddenly, ¡°I am going to die in a minute. Jesus Christ, I should have done more.¡± ¡°No you aren¡¯t going to die, I am going to cleanse you of the curse. Just give me a few seconds to recharge my mana.¡± I try to give his arm a reassuring squeeze, but it doesn¡¯t appear to be helpful. Jeffrey comes up next to me and crouches down with us as well. ¡°You¡¯ll be fine, Private. Greg lived in this hellhole for two weeks all by himself. You are here with him, a fortune unparalleled. Trust him, he knows what to do.¡± I add in and try to grin. ¡°Plus, we¡¯ve got guns this time. This will be a piece of cake.¡± The next half minute is the longest of my life as we stare at each other, the seconds clicking down to his demise. I watch his face slowly twist in horror as he watches the timer in the corner of his eye. ¡°Jeffrey,¡± I say as I reach out with my hands, ¡°I am going to pass out for a bit as I use up the last of my mana. I will probably be back after five or ten minutes, but in the meantime, keep everybody alive. Shoot anything that moves. When I wake up, I¡¯ll stabilize the group, then we track down the mage skeleton and kill it. We¡¯ll need to do this fast, while the instance is weak. If it takes more than a few days I fear we will fall behind too much.¡± Jeffrey nods gravely at me and I cleanse Jones, the warm golden glow enveloping him for a moment before disappearing. A sigh of relief escapes Jeffrey and Jones looks up at me, his eyes watery. ¡°Thank you.¡± he chokes out. ¡°You¡¯re welcome,¡± I say with a smile, exhausted, even as my vision fades away. I feel Jeffrey hold me as I slump over. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Jeffrey freezes as he holds Greg, their savior apparent and only hope out of this miserable place as the guy does his impression of a limp noodle. Jeffrey had read the reports of Greg¡¯s experiences here and had been properly mortified and awed by the words. Many people hadn¡¯t believed the stories in their entirety, or at least thought that the words were exaggerated, Jeffrey included. Now, only being here for a few minutes, Jefferey understood that, if anything, the reports downplayed the horror here. He felt the dead weight of despair in his gut as he looked around the bleak, bleak landscape. Even knowing that Greg had survived, and in his own way, thrived here alone, the oppressive atmosphere of the place caused a feeling of certain doom inside of him. As much as Greg probably thought otherwise, the guy was an insane monster to have survived here alone. ¡°Is he alright?¡± Smeilnisk asked, the panic evident in his voice. Jeffrey didn¡¯t blame him. Taking Greg¡¯s pulse really quick to make sure he really was still alive, Jefferey grunted and replied, ¡°He¡¯s fine, just spent. He¡¯ll be back up shortly, he used all his mana which causes him to pass out. In the meantime we protect him and wait.¡± There was silence for a minute as the people tried to absorb their new circumstances. Jeffrey knew that these people weren¡¯t completely clueless as to what was happening around the world. They had been activated days ago when Greg¡¯s house became a thing, but they had been given the barest details. Supernatural invaders from another dimension? They were not told that explicitly, but essentially, yes. But hearing some reports and being put on guard duty is a far cry from being thrust into the middle of an undead showdown. The same was true for Jeffrey. None of them knew anything about the superhuman Greg either. ¡°Lieutenant?¡± A worried voice came to him. He turned and looked at the Corporal who had spoken to him. The woman was handling the situation well, all things considered. Having half your face and arm almost frozen off isn¡¯t something people shrug off. The Corporal was holding up her burnt black hand though, staring at it in horror. Little green growths had started popping up on it and she eyed them with a detached awed terror. Jeffrey took a quick look at it and blanched, his eyes immediately switching to her face. There, too, on her dead side, the green growths were coming out. Her blank white eye was now crusted. Jeffrey handed off Greg¡¯s unconscious form to Jones, who took him like he was an unstable explosive, and went to Corporal Duncan. Her one working eye stared back at his and he shuddered. Checking his own hands and arms he saw them clear and sighed with relief. He turned and looked at Private Smielnisk who was developing similar symptoms. He spoke as calmly as he could. ¡°Does it hurt?¡± Duncan shook her head, her single eye wide and afraid. Speaking more confidently then he felt, Jeffrey added, ¡°Yeah, from Greg¡¯s reports from this place, we know that while the infection is aggressive and attacks wounds particularly fast. Greg, never had much of a problem with it, his ability neutralized it easily. Don¡¯t worry about it, it won¡¯t be fatal for a while and Greg will be up and at it soon enough and will fix you back up to perfect health.¡± Duncan nodded, putting her hand down and doing her best not to look at it. She brought up her shotgun, holding it as tightly as possible, and peering around the landscape anxiously. Her teeth were set and her face was white. She spoke after a second, tonelessly, ¡°my notifications are telling me I¡¯m infected.¡± If they made it out of this, they would need some serious therapy, him included. ¡°Alright,¡± Jeffrey said, turing to the group. They all eyed him expectantly, guns clutched in their hands. He paused and then added, ¡°While we wait for Greg to wake back up, I¡¯m going to tell you everything we know about what is happening. When Greg comes to, he can provide more details, but for now, this is what we know.¡± For the next ten minutes, Jeffrey did his best to convey what he knew, but the absurdity of it made it difficult. Instances? Game like settings? Skeletons and zombies? Madness, all of it. But true nonetheless. Enemies. True Enemies. Creatures, while maybe not bent on the complete destruction of the world, more than capable of it. The black spheres, as unknowable as black holes, except for Greg who had returned. And now them. And the game. Absurd powers bestowed. Evil incarnate. For what reason? Was it all real, or just a story? Who was behind it? They were blind, but some facts were irrefutable. Like the infections slowly taking over two of the soldiers. They didn¡¯t ask questions, accept for O¡¯hara who had many. His eyes lit up during the lecture. How were classes acquired? What were the conditions for the different classes? Could they gain these powers as well? What was the structure of the parameters of this place? How could he get an awesome class? Jeffrey didn¡¯t have answers for the majority of the questions. Out of the different possible reactions, Jeffrey supposed the enthusiastic embracing of the possibilities was better than despair. It was easier to be excited when an infection wasn¡¯t eating you alive. ¡°Damn!¡± O¡¯hara swore, after a particularly excited questioning. He looked around sheepishly. ¡°I got a lung infection.¡± Jeffrey wanted to slap the guy. He was taking this whole thing too casually. He had gotten the lung infection a while back from all his talking. Suddenly, a shot gun rang out, breaking the unnatural quiet of the landscape. They all were startled, looking over to the source. Duncan stood to the side, her gun still raised. Her infection was looking worse than ever, her left side was almost completely covered. She stood stiff, hardly able to move. ¡°What happened?¡± Jeffrey asked, looking over to the direction she had shot. ¡°Zombie,¡± She said flatly, lowering her weapon. ¡°Single one, ambling up here.¡± she paused a moment and then added as a grunt. ¡°Got a class from it.¡± ¡°You did?¡± O¡¯hara burst out excitedly, ¡°So we just need to kill something?¡± He looked around eagerly, as if hoping a hoard of zombies would appear. Jeffrey frowned and spotted the dead undead zombie, its top half shredded. He nodded and added, ¡°Good work. Keep a sharp eye out people.¡± Greg¡¯s voice spoke up, ¡°What class did you get?¡± Jeffrey turned and spotted Greg sitting up with the help of Private Jones. He looked a little worse for wear, but his eyes were alive and alert. Greg gave them a smile, ¡°Good job staying alive, I was only a little worried.¡± Then he saw the corporal¡¯s infection and his face twisted in surprise. ¡°Judas Maude! Come over here and let me take care of that!¡± ¡°Steady there, man!¡± Jones said anxiously, helping up Greg. Duncan ambled over and Greg reached out with his hand, ¡°Yeah, I guess I am not surprised, The infections easily invade the body when there are wounds. Here you go, I¡¯ll get to all of you here. Heal.¡± The soft golden glow enveloped Duncan and she let out a sigh of relief. Jeffreys saw the ugly green fungus turn to gray dust and then brush away, leaving her clear and bright. Despite seeing it several times already, Jeffrey couldn''t help but marvel at the miraculous sight. ¡°I¡¯ll get to your injuries soon, but let me clear up everybody else too.¡± ¡°Thanks¡± Duncan replied, looking down at and moving her arm again. ¡°No prob.¡± Greg said with a tense smile. Moving to Smielnisk next, Greg made his rounds, pausing between heals to collect mana and offering encouraging words. ¡°So what class did you get?¡± Jefferey asked, standing next to the Corporal. ¡°Kinetic Sorceress.¡± She replied, giving that unfocused look as she reviewed her status. ¡°Holy Shit, that sounds amazing!¡± O¡¯hara exclaimed, now cleaned and ogling Duncan with excitement and envy. ¡°That sounds so OP!¡± ¡°OP?¡± Jeffrey asked, giving the private a frown. ¡°Stands for Overpowered,¡± Greg explained, finishing up on Jones, who was looking up at Greg with worshipful eyes. ¡°It does sound pretty amazing, but don¡¯t forget our enemies also have powers. To normal humans, any kind of power would be OP. What¡¯s the description say, Corporal?¡± ¡°It says, ¡® A class that allows for manipulation of kinetic mechanics though mana usage. Skill usage limited to quantity of Mana available. It comes with two skills. Kinetic Aura, which allows me to create a bubble of space where I can influence kinetic energy and Hard shot, which I can use to accelerate objects I am touching.¡± She looked out over the group with a frown, ¡°It doesn¡¯t seem very helpful.¡± Greg nodded and looked at her, crossing his arms speculatively. ¡°For now maybe. Both skills need mana to use, which you probably have a small pool of. From my experiences though, these skills can scale up with the amount of mana available to use. For now, you could maybe deflect a stone thrown at you, which we will definitely test after this. But in the future I expect the radius will grow as you level up as well as the amount of mana you could funnel through it. It wouldn¡¯t surprise me if you could stop a truck with it at higher levels. And Hardshot can probably shoot out small rocks for now. While your gun is superior, perhaps in the future you can become a mobile cannon. Imagine shooting a sphere of steel the size of a basketball at supersonic speeds at command.¡± Greg grinned at her with that thought and after a moment she grinned back. ¡°Sounds nice,¡± she said. ¡°Yeah, grab some objects and start getting a feel for your limits. It would be incredibly helpful if you can deflect arrows from us with your aura. Just don¡¯t use all your mana or you¡¯ll pass out like I did. Once I¡¯m topped up, I¡¯ll come and see if I can¡¯t heal you up all the way.¡± ¡°That¡¯s so badass!¡± O¡¯hara whined, looking around for a zombie to kill. ¡°I want that class! Do you think I will get it if I blow away a zombie too?¡± ¡°Maybe,¡± Greg replied with a frown, ¡°There might be a correlation with how you kill something and your class, or it might be completely random. I have no idea. Also, everybody getting the kinetic class might not be the best idea, it has a big weakness.¡± Jeffrey nodded, following Greg¡¯s chain of logic. ¡°She probably can¡¯t do anything against the wraiths.¡± Greg replied with a wry grin, ¡°Perhaps later she¡¯ll develop a skill that can, but she also might not. Stacking our group with this type would keep us in the same situation that got us here. As cool as her class is, guns are still a more effective weapon for her.¡± ¡°So if the classes are based upon how the first kill is obtained,¡± Jeffrey said, the gears working in his head, ¡°We should try killing the zombies in different ways to get different classes. Hopefully we can get another one that will help us deal with the wraiths.¡± ¡°Right!¡± O¡¯hara butted in, ¡°we need a balanced party. We can¡¯t all be DPSs!¡± Jeffrey stared at the kid, wondering what the hell he was talking about. ¡°I¡¯m going to get the most awesome class!¡± O¡¯hara said excitedly, ¡°I want to be a pure mage and throw fireballs! Or lightning! Or ice! I don¡¯t care! Maybe I¡¯ll try for some sort of elementalist!¡± Greg gave Jeffrey a bemused smile which he didn¡¯t return. ¡°F***!¡± O¡¯hara said after a second, ¡°I got infected again.¡± As Greg cleansed O¡¯hara, Jeffrey looked around the bleak landscape. Although O¡¯hara seemed caught up in the moment, Jeffrey was glad to see that the rest of his crew was taking this much more seriously. The Corporal was busy shooting off small pebbles into the dead green bushes a ways away, but she was keeping her eyes keen on the surroundings. Smielnesk was doing the same on the other side, Jones was staying close and sucking up to every word that came out of Greg¡¯s mouth, while sweeping the landscape with his eyes. Good. According to Greg, there were many, many things out here trying to kill them. With Greg up and working though, Jeffrey couldn¡¯t help but feel a little optimistic. ¡°Alright,¡± O¡¯hara said, trying to keep his breath calm and focused to avoid another infection like Greg suggested. ¡°When is the next zombie coming? I¡¯ve got an idea for killing it.¡± Greg looked around with a frown. ¡°Probably the freebies are gone, I am afraid. While the zombies are mindless, the skeletons are far from it. They will gather up all the loose zombies as fast as possible. They won¡¯t attack until they feel they have the strength to do so.¡± ¡°We shouldn¡¯t wait for that,¡± Jeffrey said, feeling the bad gut feeling again, ¡°We need to take on the enemies on our terms, not theirs.¡± Greg nodded. ¡°Neither side is ready for a confrontation right now. We need to get you guys your classes and hopefully stabilize the group so you are less dependent on me. We should also move to try and chip away at the skeleton¡¯s forces. Or maybe that black mage is back. God, I hope not, I think I killed him for good. He had a name, unlike all these other spawned creatures.¡± ¡°So,¡± Jeffrey said, gripping his gun a little tighter and feeling his gut twist uncomfortable. ¡°Hunting tactics.¡± ¡°Right,¡± Greg replied, his eyes tight. ¡°We need to keep a careful lookout too. There is another party out there that¡¯s got it out for me, and I suspect it''s very powerful now. I got the notification when I got here.¡± Greg eyes the landscape one more time and added, ¡°Looks like I haven¡¯t seen the last of Pesos.¡± Chapter 29 ~Authentic ¡°We should salvage everything we can from the hotel room,¡± I say to Jeffrey, ¡°Especially any cups. It will be difficult to get water around here, and some sort of containers and cloth is needed to acquire it.¡± I gave him a wry smile. ¡°In order to get clean water, I pull up toxic sludge from the wynot infested creek and then cleanse and filter it to drink. I don¡¯t want to imagine doing it without containers.¡± Jeffrey gives me a solemn nod and organizes the salvage effort, while I thank God that he is here to keep the soldiers calm and orderly. Already the soldiers look at me like some sort of superhero and it''s hard to interact with them. Especially Jones. The poor guy seems to be hanging on my every word and keeps giving me hope-filled stares as if I was the only way to salvation. ¡­ I suppose it''s a little true, without me, everybody else would be dead here already, but I don¡¯t like it. Hopefully, we can get them all some powerful classes for themselves so they can stop worshiping me. Jeffrey doesn¡¯t look at me that way, but he knew me from the little time we spent together on earth. He has the most practical view out of everybody here. The corporal isn¡¯t so bad either, she mostly keeps quiet and stern, herding the privates around when needed like a sheep dog. However, when I finished healing her from the frostbite and restored her vision, I could see some of the tight control slipping. Afterwords, she kept touching her face and hand as if it wasn¡¯t real. Frankly, I¡¯m impressed that none of the soldiers have gone bananas over this situation yet. Jeffrey can be thanked for that I suppose, but having an ultimate fallback healer helps. Jeffrey and I are convinced that a quick decisive battle is our best option to defeat the mage skeleton and escape here, the sooner the better. The corporal¡¯s class is interesting, but ultimately unimpressive for what we need at the moment. As we prepare to head out, I walk over to where the Corporal and Private O¡¯hara were experimenting with the former¡¯s skills. ¡°What about air, sir?¡± ¡°Ohara asked excitedly, ¡°Can you shoot little air blasts? How large of blasts?¡± Duncan gritted her teeth and replied, ¡°I am running out of mana, private. This is the last experiment for now.¡± Lifting up her newly healed left hand the corporal''s face contorted slightly in concentration. A second later a light blue glow emanated briefly from her hand, before a small ¡°hrumph¡± noise sounded out. The foggy green mist wavered slightly in front of her hand, but otherwise nothing else changed. Duncan let out a sigh. ¡°Not very useful,¡± she said dryly, lowering her hand. ¡°But you could do it still?¡± O¡¯hara replied, looking at the agitated green mist. ¡°Was it more difficult to do than a rock?¡± I asked, stepping forward. Duncan nodded back, ¡°Besides being in contact with whatever I want to accelerate, I also need to ¡®visualize¡¯ what I am shooting. Holding a rock is easy, because it''s literally right there to look at. The air was harder to focus on.¡± I nod and reply, ¡°That makes sense. Learn anything else good?¡± ¡°Yeah!¡¯ O¡¯hara replied, rubbing his hands together. ¡°Her aura extends about a meter around her. I¡¯ve been chucking pebbles at her and depending on how large the rock or how fast it is going, she can turn them away before they hit her.¡± ¡°The faster and bigger the object is, the more effort it takes to deflect it,¡± I paraphrase. ¡°Probably not very useful for now, we should probably stick to guns.¡± ¡°Yeah!¡± O¡¯hara nods eagerly, Duncan apparently at ease letting us talk about her next to her, ¡°But I thought of this, imagine what happens when she can accelerate herself upwards at a consistent and steady rate? Like, say 9.8 meters per second?¡± I feel my pulse quicken at the man¡¯s dream. ¡°She¡¯ll be able to float. Or even fly!¡± I say, catching onto O¡¯hara¡¯s enthusiasm. Damn! I want to be able to fly! ¡°Yes! I almost want to take the same class as her just to get it.¡± ¡°It would take a lot of control and mana..¡± I muse. ¡°I know, but eventually¡­¡± O¡¯hara trailed off, a distant look in his eyes. ¡­ Dang! So cool! I look over to Duncan, who was eyeing us both bemusedly. ¡°Get your heads out of the clouds, you two,¡± She butts in, ¡°Don¡¯t forget where we are. We¡¯ll be getting out of here soon, there will not be time to ¡®level up¡¯ my abilities to get there anyway.¡± O¡¯hara gives me a quick look, ¡°but we wouldn¡¯t lose our abilities when we get back, right?¡± I nod slowly, ¡°No, but the only way I know of leveling up is by killing the creatures here. I doubt we¡¯ll get anything from killing animals, or God forbid, people in our world. Keith and I were talking about it and we concluded there wasn¡¯t any way of obtaining ¡®experience¡¯ on earth.¡± O¡¯hara deflated a bit but I could tell he was far from giving up.. Jeffrey and the crew had finished salvaging anything they thought they could use from the remains of the hotel room and so it was time to depart. Time for some hunting. Keeping up with the cleansing everybody needed from the infections was doable, but annoying. Just breathing the air for more than five minutes was enough to infect anybody, but any contact with any objects on the landscape would also result in an immediate infection. Thus, I was constantly moving from person to person, cleansing and healing as needed, including myself. While my new regeneration rate was enough to keep steady, it was still an annoyance that kept me worried. It would mean the death of anybody if they got seperated from me for more than an hour. Our first stop was the sludge creek so we could stock up on ¡°water¡±. I noticed that while many of the features of the original instance were present, they had been geographically randomized, as if a random map generator had been used. Needless to say, as the instance was still new and relatively small, it didn¡¯t take long to find the creek. Oh yay. I get to deal with the flying jellyfish monsters again. ¡°Okay, stay back while I gather the sludge,¡± I say, while easing forward with a refurbished coffee machine. ¡°These things like to jump scare you and the first few times they melted my face off. I¡¯m going to lure them and injure them and we¡¯ll let you take turns killing them.¡± I get solemn nods from two of the privates, and excited bug eyes and maniacal grin from O¡¯hara and a stoic look from Jeffrey. Duncan was on look out behind, her shot gun out and ready to blast anything that would move. I crept forward to the molasse river. Hand extended out. Despite dealing with the wynots for weeks, they still made me jump when they come flying out, I can never tell exactly where they would come from. Somehow, they always manage to surprise me. I was able to get a nice large glop of the river sludge with the coffee reservoir before the wynot jumped out at me. Thankfully, when I fell over with a yelp I didn¡¯t spill the sludge all over myself or break it the container. Not my most impressive moment in front of the soldiers, but to hell with that, these things are terrifying and as horrible as I remember. Squirming appendages, sharp death, gaping maw¡­ God awful! I was able to swat it away and cripple the damn thing with a well placed cleanse. The blasted thing let loose that horrible screeching that they always do when wounded. At this point I would finish it off, but instead I looked over at the soldiers, all staring at the noisy horror with stricken expressions. I grin and shout over the screaming urchin, ¡°Who¡¯s up?¡± Surprisingly, O¡¯hara deferred the chance at gaining a class, his face white. Neither of the two privates seemed eager either. Smielnisk eyed the crippled creature, having a seizure on the ground and asked, ¡°And you ate these things for over two weeks?¡± ¡°Come on,¡± I cooed over the impressive lung capacity of the wynot. ¡°You will too, if we don¡¯t hurry up. We aren¡¯t even certain if this will even get you a class or not, it''s just our theory. You might have to defeat the creature independently to get a class, who knows? Think about trying to tackle one of these things all by yourself.¡± O¡¯hara looked to get even more white, if possible. He mumbled, ¡°I think I¡¯d rather kill a zombie or something.¡± ¡°Come on!¡± I say again, losing my joviality. ¡°We don¡¯t have the leisure of doing that. Who¡¯s up? We need to kill this thing before it attracts too much attention. And remember, the way you kill it might influence the type of class you get-¡± The stand off suddenly ended when Jeffrey stepped forward and brutally stomped the wynot with his touch army boots. The sound got cut off with a sudden shriek, and then there was blessed silence once again. And wynot guts, splattered over me and the Sergeant. That wasn¡¯t nice, and it also sizzled slightly with acid. ¡°Stop dallying,¡± The Sergeant ordered, lifting up his boot from the mess he made, a steel glint in his eyes. ¡°Kill the damned things and then we move on.¡± The three privates were stunned into silence, shifting uneasily. ¡­ Impressive move. After cleaning up the remnants of the acid and filtering the water to restock, I went hunting for more wynots, up and down the creek. Jeffrey¡¯s new class seemed to prove our theory that how the first kill is obtained effects the type of class gained. His new class was Striker, which seemed fitting considering his kill. The description was, ¡°A close combat class that allows for enhancement of users body though mana usage. Skill usage limited to quantity of Mana available.¡± The two skills he got were lunge, a skill that shot him forward unnaturally, as well as strike, a skill that let him hit things¡­ especially hard. Not the type of class that I would have suggested he get, it seems even less helpful that Duncan¡¯s kinetic mage class here, but, again, perhaps in the future it might have extraordinary capabilities. At least the class fits his personality. O¡¯hara was next up for his class and was extremely disappointed that his class didn¡¯t grant him the ability to throw around the force of nature. He tried to be clever and kill his wynot by burning it to death with gun powder he scavenged from a grenade but all that got him was some sort of alchemical class. ¡°A crafter class?!¡± he shouted indignantly at the sky. His skills involved creating compounds out of¡­ practically anything, using his skills to magically alter the way the ingredients interact with each other. It seemed to come with the knowledge of how to create several different ¡®potions¡¯, none of which had ingredients available or provided containers to keep the potions in. Altogether another class relatively useless for what we needed. At least when we make it back to earth his class will give him opportunities unimaginable in pharmaceuticals or chemical engineering. Too bad the guy hated school. We really wanted another class that could affect the wraiths though, so after O¡¯hara got over his disappointment, we put our heads together to try to come up with a plan. The problem was that we wanted to get supernatural powers from a kill that we can only use natural means to achieve. It felt like a catch 22. Jeffrey was getting impatient though, so Smielnisk went next, simply blasting the next wynot and acquiring the Kinetic Sorcerer class like Duncan. I thought it was a waste, but Jeffrey was correct, we needed to get a move on. The last Wynot was more difficult to find, the three new class users were exploring their abilities carefully while still on guard. The sun was showing that it was still early afternoon, but I knew that night came quickly here. Jeffrey and I both wanted to end this before night, we were not sure how well we would survive it. I located the last Wynot and had Jones come up to finish it off, when inspiration struck me. ¡°Wait!¡± I said excitedly, all of us ignoring the wailing wynot. ¡°You think of something?¡± O¡¯hara eagerly asked. Jeffrey just gave us a tired look. ¡°Yeah, Jones, Let me coat you in flare and let you kill it. That might be considered well?¡± Jones gave me a wide eyed look and acquiesced, ¡°If you think it will work.¡± ¡°Yeah!¡± O¡¯hara said happily, then his face shifted, ¡°Maybe¡­ it''s worth a shot at least. It can¡¯t be worse than Alchemist.¡± With the wynot screaming on the ground, I grabbed Private Jone¡¯s shoulder and coated him with flare. I heard him breathe in suddenly, surprised at the sudden warmth, before giving me a nod. ¡°I never thanked you for healing me, or cleansing me of that curse,¡± he said softly to me. Still keeping up the flare I him, I reply quickly, ¡°You are welcome. Now kill this thing.¡± But the Private does not hurry, he continues instead, ¡°Whatever power i get from this, I want to be like you, to help and protect. God put you here for a reason, and I want to be part of that. I want to be able to destroy evil, wherever I see it.¡± ¡­ Okay... Then taking the butt of his gun, also coated in flare, Jones reached out and smashed the wynot. It exploded in unnatural force and Jones flinched back, before giving me a tight smile. ¡°Well?¡± O¡¯hara said, jumping up and down. ¡°Did it work?¡± ¡°I think so,¡± Jones replied, looking out the group. His eyes unfocused, looking at his notification, ¡°I got the class ¡®Transient Ward¡¯. The skills are Causality, and Ward.¡± I give him a look of disbelief. In some ways, I guess I am not surprised, perhaps a correct mental state can also influence an initial class. Somehow, the Private Jones looks bigger, taller and more imposing. His back is straightened and he seems to give off an aura of safety. Maybe he really does, maybe it''s a part of his class. I don¡¯t know. ¡°I have been granted the tools we need,¡± Jones continues, looking at his screen. ¡°Causality appears to give, umm, chaos damage. It looks to be able to give damage to the wraiths at a distance. Small as it is right now. Ward is similar to aura and gives an extra defense boost to my allies.¡±The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. ¡­ Chaos Damage? Ward? ¡­ I suppose that explains the feeling I am getting from him. ¡°You f***ing kidding me, right now?¡± O¡¯hara exclaims. ¡°Jones get¡¯s the goddamn jackpot, while I am stuck with alchemist? How is that f***ing fair?¡± Private Jones turns and gives O¡¯hara a stern glare at his words before saying, ¡°Please, do not profane the air.¡± O¡¯hara just looks at him, agog, and I take a deep breath, ignoring the infection notice. ¡­ Group dynamics just took a shift. ¡­. What the Hell? Was Jones always like this, or is the blasted class affecting his personality? That¡¯s a scary thought. ¡°Okay!¡± Jeffrey adds in, clapping his hands for attention. ¡°Private Jones, figure out the mechanics of your Causality skill, make sure it is what we want. An extra ability to deter the wraiths will be hugely beneficial, but we will be going in either way, we will not be spending the night here. Once you feel confident in it, we are going to track down the temple and get out of here.¡± Jeffrey turns to me, ¡°Do you feel confident in finding the temple today?¡± I nod back, ¡°yes, this instance is very small right now, over the next few days it will increase in size a lot, but it should be relatively easy to locate.¡± ¡°Good.¡± is all the response we get. After the success of Private Jones''s class, the group¡¯s moral takes an upwards turn and I am relieved to see that Jones is no longer eyeing me like the virgin mother. I rustle up a few more Wynots for Jones to test his powers on, as well as level up once, all the while still cleansing people periodically. We also make a plan, albeit a pretty straightforward one. Jeffrey leads the assault and uses the kickass shotguns to mow anything that stands in the way while with Duncan, Smielnisk and O¡¯hara joining in. Jones stays back and focuses mainly on the wraiths. Our haphazard testing determined that his smite skills show an effective range of five meters and up to ten meters with diminishing returns. I can¡¯t guarantee they will be effective against the wraiths, but O¡¯hara and I decided that something like chaos damage is meant to be metaphysical and bypass all conventional defenses. It should help protect against the wraiths. The wynots certainly did not like it, screaming and dying with no visible wound. I would hang back until needed, against the wraiths, mage spells, whatever it may be. With any luck. I won¡¯t be needed at all. There are a couple of wild cards though. The mage skeleton is a new addition by any account. I have no idea where he even popped up from. I would have thought if they were a standard part of the undead legion the crappy black mage from before would have used it. Or maybe they weren¡¯t necessary since he was already a mage. There is so much about these things that we have no idea. ¡­ I say that next time, we just destroy them all, leaving nothing up to chance. Take no prisoners! ¡­ Now I sound like a villain. It doesn¡¯t appear that the mage skeleton has much in its repertoire besides summoning the wraiths, but maybe he has more. Considering he is a relatively low level, I suspect a good shot to the chest will be enough to end that guy, he got lucky with the core in the way last time. The other wild card is Pesos. I know she is here and she will be a tough fight, even for me. I doubt bullets will have much of an effect on her and I also doubt a low leveled spell from Jones will be very effective here. It¡¯s up to me again to face the k-9. I had really hoped it would have been the end of Pesos when I killed the mage, but I suppose that was just wishful thinking. Is Pesos trapped in this instance with me, or will she follow me to a new one, say, like the one in Los Angeles? I hope not, but my gut is telling me otherwise. I had hoped that with the abilities these soldiers could get from this place, they could just be sent out in my stead. However, unless one of them develops the ability to remove curses and infections really quick, I am out of luck. Spook is still in my future. Finding the blasted temple took longer that we would have liked. The sun was nearly setting by the time we located it. The sick green horizon was an ugly sight, and I will not be sorry to see it go. Jeffrey and I looked out over at the clearing the small temple sat in. Just as I suspected, the instance had been reset, the temple appearing like a tall A shaped single room. In front of it roamed several skeletons and a few zombies. A single wraith flew circles around the top, looking around. It wasn¡¯t long before our group was spotted by it, and it ran back screaming, warning its comrades. I let an evil smile grow on my face. Let them raise the alarm. It won¡¯t make a difference. This time will not be like last time. ¡­ That was very poetic of me. At the alarm, the door to the temple opened and out stepped a familiar figure. I let my grin spread more and let out a small chuckle. ¡°What is it, Greg?¡± Jeffrey asks, whispering at me. I point down at the temple, at the new skeleton that had stepped out. ¡°See that new skeleton with the spear? He¡¯s a special guard type. We have a history together.¡± I turn and give Jeffrey an evil smile, ¡°he burned down my house and I stole his spear and killed him. Twice.¡± Then a sudden thought struck me, ¡°I wonder if he even remembers me over the new instance?¡± The idea was oddly sad to me. Jeffrey gives me a strange look before saying, ¡°You seem like a different person in here, Greg. You seem more confident and more yourself.¡± Jeffrey¡¯s comment hurts in an unclear way. I don¡¯t reply. He turns to his soldiers, ¡°let¡¯s go! Stay in formation, do not get outside of ten feet from Greg! Jones, you take rear guard.¡± As we move out with determined faces I add, ¡°And be sure to keep a look out for Pesos, the black greyhound. She likes to jump out at opportune moments.¡± No sooner were the words coming out of my mouth than I spotted the little rugrat. She was just as I remembered too, silent and daring, looking out over our group from the side. The heavy breaths wreathed in flames that Pesos was giving out indicated she hadn¡¯t lost her levels in the change. The whole group noticed her too and I could see a few of them stiffening in surprise and fear. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ll take care of her,¡± I add, moving to the back. ¡°Stay near,¡± Jeffrey commands me, stopping me from chasing after the dog. ¡°We need to be sure that Jones can affect the wraith.¡± I glance back at the group, as we now slowly approach the temple. Gunshots start flashing out as we draw into range, mowing down the beginner zombies. The wraith stays back though, not getting within range of Jones. I shout back at Jeffrey, ¡°I¡¯ll stay as long as I can, but I can¡¯t fight Pesos with you near! She¡¯s too destructive for you guys!¡± I turn to Pesos and see her now sprinting at me, flame tipped feet singeing the dead moldy grass around her. Yup. I leave the group behind and run out to meet her.. I hear the continued fight behind me and pray it ends well. I focus my attention on the poor dog racing at me again. ¡­. I wish I had my spear with me. Instead, all I¡¯ve got is this stupid baton. I gave my police shield away to Jones. Pesos doesn¡¯t attack head on though, but diverts to the side at the last moment, spraying me with her corrosive flame breath on the fly by. It¡¯s not a new trick though, and I have a barrier up before the flames can get me. Minutes went by in this game of keep away. Pesos is too agile for me to catch, while most of my abilities negate her attacks. Her breath attacks are strong and almost constant though, forcing me to erect barrier after barrier unless I want to get coated in the painful magic. A stalemate, as they say. It''s nice not to have skeletons attacking me too, with arrows and stuff. ¡­. My mana isn¡¯t endless, you know. Usually I win by baiting the dog into range of my hands, sometimes getting mauled in the process. Time to score some agro. ¡°I knew you would be here, Pesos!¡± I shout out at the dog, during a lull in the flame attacks. ¡°You just can¡¯t let it go, can you?¡± Does Pesos understand my words? It seems crazy, she certainly never had that ability when she was alive. But my words have always seem to get her riled up and today is no different. The moldy grass is burning around us, the noxious fumes poison with every breath. ¡°I talked to your master!¡± I shout again at her, ¡°And do you know what he said when I told him about what you have become?¡± Pesos howls and growls loudly at my words, pawing at the ground in agitation. ¡°He says you were a bad dog! He was disappointed in you, Pesos, him and and his wife! Both thought you were a bad dog!¡± Part of me feels guilty for saying this to Pesos. The other part of me wants to survive. ¡°You were in the greyhound races for three years? And you never won a race, did you? Such a failure, it was a wonder anybody adopted you. Your master confessed to me, he said he regretted ever taking you in. A failure and a Bad Dog!¡± Ouch. I¡¯m being so cruel. That certainly did the trick though, letting loose a thunderous roar, Pesos leaps at me, her black flames burning. Despite egging Pesos on, her speed surprises me and I can¡¯t get a shield up in time. She collides with me at full force, knocking me back, biting and kicking and clawing at me in the dusty burnt grass. She even manages to rip out my throat, again, before I punch her good in the muzzle with a flared hand, and then again in the chest. She backs off from the engagement, and I¡¯m not sure whose worse for wear. Half her head is gone as well as a portion of her chest cavity while I am covered in burns, gouges, and have blood flowing down from my gurgling throat. I struggle to my feet and I heal myself as quickly as possible while watching Pesos¡¯s black aura condensing and filling in the damaged parts. I hear footsteps behind me and turn to see Duncan and Jones coming up. Looking back, I see a messy battlefield, littered with corpses and bones. O¡¯hara is taking out the stragglers while Smielnisk and Jeffrey stand at the opened door to the temple. ¡°You look like Hell,¡± Jones, says to me with unneeded joviality. ¡°You okay?¡± Ducan asks, looking much more appropriately worried. I turn back to Pesos, limping and glaring at me a little ways away. I cough up the blood that¡¯s clogging my pipes. ¡°You finished over there?¡± I ask. Duncan replies for them both, ¡°Yeah, Private Jones¡¯s ability worked against the wraith, thankfully. Caused it to explode from 7 meters away, it was really weird. The mage got a good shot at Smielnisk though, he¡¯ll need some healing when you are ready. We found the core, but didn¡¯t touch it, like you said. The sun¡¯s about to set though, we were sent to help you out.¡± I stand up gingerly, dusting off my bloody pants. Pesos flinches, but doesn¡¯t back away, growling again at me. I point out at her, ¡°Can you hit her with your spell, Jones? I¡¯d like to incapacitate her, if possible.¡± ¡°Why, sir?¡± Duncan asks, even as Jones lifts his right arm. At the action, Pesos leaps up in the air with a strangled yelp, like she would when I accidentally stepped on her tail. A pitiful sound. ¡°I want to try something.¡± I add, moving in again at her. Pesos backs away from me as I approach, with heavy growling. ¡°Hit her again.¡± ¡°It''ll be my last one.¡± Jones replies. A second later the spell hits again and Pesos cries out in agony like only a dog can. In the distraction, I jump at her, pinning her and then start hitting her with flare, watching as she yelps and slowly dissipates. Before she disappears completely though, I stop and take the wisp that¡¯s left of her. While mostly incorporeal, I¡¯ve found in the past I¡¯ve been able to grasp her enough to work. Taking the wisp with me carefully, I say to the others, ¡°let¡¯s go, quickly! Before more enemies spawn.¡± We run back to the temple, I eye the setting sun, an ominous look, if nothing else. ¡°What are you going to do with the dog spirit?¡± Jones asks on the way. ¡°I¡¯m not letting Pesos remain here for all eternity.¡± I reply back with gritted teeth. ¡°Not if I can finish it, she deserves better than that.¡± It would also be nice to not get attacked anymore by the psycho dog. We reach the temple door after braving the battlefield, and I notice the guardian skeleton¡¯s remains scattered around the temple. Along with a spear. Not as good as my spear, but it would be nice to have a spare¡­ As I pass I drop the baton and grab the new weapon. It feels nice in my hand, the wisp in Pesos in my other. Smielninsk give me an odd look, but doesn¡¯t comment as he holds the door open for us. ¡°Where is the skeleton mage?¡± I ask as I enter. There is no way I am leaving any loose ends. Smielnisk points to the crumpled remains with his left hand, his right one was black and dead looking. I choke back a gut wrench at the sight of his arm. I know that spell. ¡°Did he have a name when you identified him?¡± I ask casually as I come over to Smielnisk. The room is pretty small, so everybody is present at the moment, looking at me. Jeffrey looks impatient. ¡°No.¡± Jeffrey replied, ¡°none of them did. It appears you are right, the original mage was unique. These were all ¡°spawns¡± as you call them.¡± I nod and reach for Smielnisk after handing my spear to Duncan. ¡°How¡¯s the arm? Can you feel anything?¡± He shrugs and replies, ¡°It doesn¡¯t hurt, I can''t move it though.¡± I nod and drag him out to the dying sunset to get a better look. Once on to the steps of the temple I grab the arm tightly as high as the black flesh went and pull. The arms comes off with only a slight ripping sound, the suddenness of it leaving the soldiers stunned. Before Smielnisk responds, I cleanse the remaining stump as much as possible, leaving no blackness on it at all. The arm loses another centimeter in the process. Smielnisk is sputtering at me, unable to form a coherent thought. I grimace and say, ¡°Sorry about that. I know that spell used against you. If left alone, it would have traveled to the rest of your body. Getting rid of the infected flesh was the best option. It wasn¡¯t even difficult as you can tell it was already dead. Even I can''t fix that.¡± Smielnisk didn¡¯t reply to that, just staring down the steps at his arm, now disintegrating before his eyes. I give him a thump on his back. ¡°Better to rip off the bandaid! Don¡¯t worry! I¡¯ll regrow your arm for you, no problem!¡± I turn back to the temple and walked in, not waiting for a response. ¡°Anybody level up?¡± I ask. ¡°I did!¡± O¡¯hara replied proudly, before deflating. ¡°Not that it matters.¡± ¡°We all have,¡± Duncan said next for the group, ¡°Two or three times. My mana pool increases with each level, as well as my regeneration, but that is it.¡± ¡°Yeah, eventually, you¡¯ll get new skills too. More mana is nice though.¡± ¡°I¡¯d like to get out of here, if you would be so kind, Greg.¡± Jeffrey adds in, grumpily. Then he asks, ¡°Will Private Smielnisk be alright? Did you just rip his arm off?¡± I nod back, ¡°He¡¯ll be fine, I promised to help regrow the limb, when we are done. I¡¯ll need to let my mana recharge to get us out of here though, it''s a tough fight trying to cleanse the core, my hands get stuck to it as it tries to eat me. I almost died last time.¡± ¡°What happens if one of us touches it?¡± O¡¯hara asks. I bend down scrutinizing the skeleton mage again. ¡°Don¡¯t. I have no idea. Probably something bad.¡± At my words, the whole group inches away from the black marble. I smile and grab the headdress that the skeleton mage was wearing. ¡°So, how do we divide loot?¡± I ask, holding it up for them to see. They can¡¯t use identify yet, so I read it to them.
Skeleton Mage Headdress: + 2.123 per minute mana regen
¡°Wearing this will increase your mana regeneration.¡± I clarify to those not in the know. ¡°Dang! Boss loot!¡± O¡¯hara expliams, ¡°that¡¯s so cool!¡± The other soldiers were not impressed. After a moment, Duncan asked, ¡°Do you have to wear it for it to be effective?¡± I consider before checking my status. Then I give her a grin. ¡°Looks like it, my regen isn¡¯t being boosted from just holding it. Crazy, right?¡± ¡°Right.¡± She replies back, clearly thinking of never wearing it intentionally. ¡°Just put it on,¡± Jeffrey says with a sigh. ¡°So we can get out of here faster.¡± Dutifully, I put it on, feeling not at all ridiculous. I checked my status and sure enough.
Mana: 169/462.2106472 Regen: 22.8516944 + (2.123) per minute
I give the group a smile. ¡°It works!¡± They just stare at me poker faced, making no response. With a sigh, I turn back to the single control board that the temple has. Given some time, I know that this will expand to a whole new room, but for now, it''s just one board. Looking over the alien controls I give a shake of the head. ¡°Anybody have a phone or camera on you?¡± Jeffrey asks suddenly, ¡°I know keith would give his soul to see these figures here.¡± Nobody said yes, but I rescued poor Keith. ¡°I think that when we teleport back it will take this board with it. It¡¯s close enough to the core, probably most of this room will come too. Than they can geek out over it as much as they want.¡± I look up at the A frame ceiling. ¡°I¡¯ll be sure to put a barrier up, in case the roof collapses again.¡± The rest of the group looks upwards as well, only a little anxiety showing at the thought of the stone falling on them I pour over the board for another minute before Jeffrey asks, ¡°What are you trying to do? ¡°I¡¯d like to save Pesos, if possible.¡± I reply not looking up, ¡°He¡¯s tied to me somehow and maybe also to this instance. I was hoping I could find something about her on this, but I have no idea what these characters mean. I am disinclined to just start pressing buttons too.¡± After a few more minutes, I give a sigh and give up, holding up the Pesos wisp in my hand to look at. Its growing bigger, even during these last few minutes. I can¡¯t bring her back to earth, that would be too irresponsible. ¡°Maybe once the linguists crack the code here we can try to figure it out, but for now I think I need to kill her again before we go home.¡± I give the wisp another wistful look before sighing again. ¡°Yep, I¡¯ll kill her again. It''ll take another day before she comes back, so we will be safe.¡± ¡°Let me,¡± Jones said, stepping forward before I can take action. ¡°There is no need to you to subjugate yourself to this again. I¡¯ll take care of her.¡± I give Jones an eye, before dipping the wisp into his hands. ¡°I know she is just a dog, but I said some really mean things to her this time.¡± ¡°You did what you had to do,¡± Jones replies, heading outside to the steps again. The sun had finally set and only a murky green glow remained out there. Inside, the control board was lit up lightly, giving the room a pale blue sheen, enough to work in. It''s good, because I didn¡¯t want to have to provide light for everybody. Tipping the wisp to the ground, Jones says, ¡°farewell Pesos. You were a good dog.¡± Then he casts his spell and the black blob explodes into wispy nothingness. I feel a little melancholy, but that¡¯s it. A notification greets me.
Vengeance Spirit conquered! Level reset Timer until respawn
¡­ huh. Chapter 30 ~ Prepare for the worst, but hope for the best Ten minutes later I was topped out in mana and ready to challenge the stupid core again, but not before I cleansed the entire temple and even a little of the surrounding area. I get the feeling that the temple is some sort of safe zone, away from the infections, but it¡¯s not a chance I was going to take. Challenging the core was just like last time, the damn thing wasn¡¯t going to go down without a fight. Again, I was victorious against it and just like that, the five of us returned to the real world. Albeit some tossing and bruising. ¡­ Along with us came most of the stupid temple now sitting in the middle of the hotel, but I suppose that¡¯s the military¡¯s problem, not mine. They can overrun this place and finally give me my house back. ¡­ Oh yeah, I guess it is my fault we were here in the first place. I was the one that hid the core from everybody and leading the skeletons up here. And my room at my house is still gone. ¡­ Stink, this sucks! I hope they don¡¯t try to pin this all on me. It''s not my fault the military sucked at keeping the skeletons locked down. They should have just sent depth charges down there like I suggested. ¡­ Right, totally not my fault. ¡­ ¡°We¡¯re back!¡± Smielnisk crowed, opening the stone door out to the hallway of the hotel. Private Jones stepped out as well, falling to his knees and offering thanks to God. ¡°I can¡¯t see my status anymore!¡± O¡¯hara complained, making odd motions with his hand as if to summon it again. I gave him a small chuckle, taking the shriveled core in my hand and handing it over to Jeffrey before I get in trouble again. ¡°The system doesn¡¯t follow us out, but our abilities are still there. You¡¯ll have to try to experiment with them when you have time, O¡¯hara.¡± The control board from the temple came with us like I suspected, but touching the panel proved it to be inert. Not surprising considering we only took part of the temple back with us. Many of the characters from the language were still plastered on the dead board though and the wiring or whatever the magic equivalent of is still there, so Keith should be happy. ¡°I want a big fat burrito,¡± I say out loud. ¡°Extra enchilada sauce and cheese.¡± While we had kept the wynot meat in our packs in case we needed them, we did not, in fact, eat anything during the half day we were in the instance. I am very hungry. There¡¯s a local mexican restaurant on my mind. Jeffrey nodded. ¡°We can grab something out of the vending machine. on the way to the armoured carrier.¡± He stows the core I gave him before giving the room a quick look around and heading out. I give Jeffrey the stink eye. I want a burrito. ¡°I feel disgusting too.¡± I say. ¡°Cleansing doesn¡¯t really get rid of that feeling, you know.¡± ¡°You¡¯ll have time for washing and resting later, first we report to the Colonel. Corporal Duncan, you, Jones¡¯ and O¡¯hara will stay here and secure this area. I¡¯m taking Smielnisk and Greg with me. I¡¯ll get the Colonel to send people to relieve you soon.¡± ¡°Understood, Sir.¡± With that, Jeffrey, Smielnisk, and I walked out of the building, feeling tired but victorious. Marks of our previous fights were still around, a little ice, blood, and bullet holes. Outside, the city still appeared to be in a lockdown, which made sense, since no time had really passed since we entered the instance. While Jeffrey made the call, Smielnisk and I sat next to the carrier. I had most of my mana back and I reached and grabbed Smielnisk to heal him. He gave me a wry grin and said, ¡°I think I¡¯m getting too used to this at this point. I need to stop getting injured.¡± ¡°A wise decision¡± I reply, ¡°Although, don¡¯t look to me for advice on how to do that. It seems like my whole strategy is to just dish out more damage than I take. My healing abilities have given me a certain lack of perspective on fatal wounds.¡± I gesture up to my throat. ¡°Pesos had ripped out my throat this time too. This will feel weird.¡± I activate heal and watch the private squirm under the feeling of his flesh regrowing. It stops halfway, his arm a grotesque piece of human appendage. I laugh at the face he makes, looking at it. ¡°Give me another few minutes, I¡¯ll have the job finished.¡± Still mildly horrified by his arm, Smielnisk doesn¡¯t say anything. We sit there in silence, listening to the sounds of the city, Jeffrey talking indistinctly on the phone, and the tornado alarms still blaring over the wind. Even with the state of emergency, the skyline is a billion times better than what was available in the instance. ¡°Thank you, Greg.¡± Smielnisk says, looking over directly at me. ¡°Thank you for everything. This whole thing is out of control crazy, looking back on it, I can hardly believe it all happened. I am just a reserve called up into action this last week, and now I was put into the middle of ¡­. ¡° he waives his arm indistinctly, ¡°whatever this all is. And now I am a kinetic sorcerer. It¡¯s all unbelievable.¡± He lifts up his functional hand and pauses. A second later a small ¡®humph¡¯ noise sounds out and I feel a small breeze hit my face. ¡°I have these abilities now. I don¡¯t know what to make of it. I¡¯m a warehouseman, you know? I run a forklift and keep materials moving. Now? Does this change anything? I honestly don¡¯t know. I don¡¯t know if I should be happy to have this or not.¡± Smielnisk gives me a troubled smile. ¡°But, whatever happens, I want you to know how grateful I am, and I¡¯m sure everybody else feels the same. Even outside of the healing you gave us, your strength and courage kept us sane in there.¡± I scoff at him, turning my head away in embarrassment, ¡°I don¡¯t know about that, you guys handled those skeletons easily enough. You just needed a little push¡­.. And a lot of healing.¡± Smielnisk just gives me a smile and leans back. At length he says, ¡°I guess it was pretty epic gunning down the skeletons.¡± I give him a laugh and sit back in silence as well. ¡­. It¡¯s only been .. zero time since we entered the instance. It feels like a full day to me, an overstuffed day at that. Heck with that, it feels like a whole week since I talked to my sister-in-law. Smielnisk¡¯s issues are mine as well. I was a small accountant at a relo company. I didn¡¯t go to work today, and I am not even sure I can go back anymore. Its too much. Its too little. After facing life and death situation every minute of every day for so long, the idea of how to send a bill of services to a client a thousand miles away seems¡­. laughable. Yet, it was what I did, it was my job. It¡¯s what kept my mortgage paid and food in my fridge. It was real. Yet, now it seems fake. ¡­ Perhaps I should look into getting some help. Becoming a social recluse, unable to fit into society anymore, is not the path I want to travel. I need a holiday. Jeffrey ends his conversation with the Colonel and interrupts my reverie. ¡°Alright, I¡¯ve given the Colonel a brief report on what happened. They are going to keep the lockdown for a while longer.¡± He looks over and blanches at Smielnisk¡¯s half heal arm. He looks away quickly, ¡°Finish up healing him, then we are going over to your house for a full debriefing. Smielnisk, you will stay here until backup arrives, in which you and the others will be relieved. You and the others will be debriefed tomorrow. I¡¯m sure there will be lots of eager people like Keith, just waiting to get their hands on you. This place is about to get swarmed. Hopefully we can extricate the temple from the hotel¡­¡± His voice fades away as he looks at the building. My room was at the far side of the building, but I can imagine what it looks like, the smooth sleek and comfortable looking wall of the hotel with a section replaced with solid granite stone. It would be difficult to hide that. Quite frankly, I¡¯m surprised the floor held, considering the weight of the stone. ¡°Either way, there will be a lookout for more wraiths and skeletons, but we think we got them all. You¡¯ll be coming with me Greg. We will have a lot to talk about with the Colonel.¡± I swallow nervously. I don¡¯t like the sound of that. I bet he¡¯s still mad about the core thing. Me? I already forgave myself hours ago. Right, it was just minutes ago to him, God, this time thing is hard to keep track of. ¡°Will there be food there?¡± I reply, letting my exhaustion seem into my voice. I reach over to Smielnisk again to finish my healing. He shifts uncomfortably under my care, refusing to look at the ungainly arm grow and fill out, looking more normal every second. Jeffrey stares at the spectacle in morbid fascination. ¡°... I¡¯ll let them know to have some available for us.¡± Soon enough, Smielniesk was the proud owner of a brand new arm. We stand up and he gives me a big warm hug, thanking me again for everything. I hug him back and feel a little melancholy at leaving him. I didn¡¯t know him very long, but I guess our experience is something that transcends standard friend norms. ¡°I wish I could say goodbye to the others.¡± I say wistfully as we get in Jeffrey car, still parked where we left it. ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll see them again.¡± Jeffrey grunts back. ¡°Now that they have these ¡®classes¡¯, I doubt we¡¯ll let them go easily.¡± I frown and look out the window. ¡°I hope the army will treat them fairly.¡± Jeffrey barks out a quick laugh, ¡°I¡¯m sure they will, this isn¡¯t some sci-fi movie, these are real people. If anything, things will be looking up for them. You¡¯ve been treated well, all things considered. They¡¯ll get VIP treatment.¡± ¡°Including you.¡± I add, looking over at the soldier. He merely nods in reply. The rest of the ride is quiet, as I contemplate all the horrible things that the colonel will do to me for keeping the core a secret from him. Looking back, it was a poor and foolish decision to keep that blasted thing. I had no idea what it really was or what it was capable of doing. For all I knew, it could have been spewing out dangerous radiation and everybody at the hotel will be coming down with cancer and radiation sickness over the next few days. I was being childish, miffed by losing my house and my freedom. I pretended to understand the severity of the situation, in fact I spent lots of time arguing for the military to take it as seriously as possible, all the while I played petty games behind their backs for no discernible reason other than I wanted something of my own.If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. We pull into my street and pass by the guards stationed at the entrance. No reporters are there thankfully, the lockdown still in effect. I¡¯m sure they will be out in force soon enough, more fierce than ever before. I have no idea how the military will placate them this time, but again, it¡¯s not my problem. Jeffrey speaks up before we arrive. ¡°Don¡¯t worry too much about getting in trouble. Nobody got seriously hurt. Well, nothing you can¡¯t fix up at any rate. Smeilnisk was correct, we are all very grateful for what you have done, and that will go a long way with the colonel. Although how it happened is questionable, results sometimes outweigh the means and we have learned a lot from this. This whole thing could have gone down completely different. In a sense, we were lucky the stone was so close for the skeletons and wraiths to focus on, otherwise, it would have been near impossible to track them down. The temple we brought back with us is invaluable in an of itself. You have secured a great victory for us.¡± I give Jeffrey a small smile. ¡°It was a team effort. I hated the idea of going back into the instance yesterday, I was¡­ I was really in despair over it. My time there alone is nothing I ever want to experience again. But having you and the others with me, it made it bearable. This instance was a million times better than last time, and having you guys with me was a large part of that. It wasn¡¯t that bad. We got really lucky, I think, anyway. The skeleton¡¯s plan was desperate and only worked due to the wraiths. Once we got a counter to that, it was an easy win.¡± Jeffrey gives me a smile and parks the car in my drive. We step out and are greeted by a couple stooges who escort us in. The place is in an ordered chaos of sorts. Wounded people sporting frostbite in varying degrees are scattered over the place. Keith being one of them, and he¡¯s inside, sitting glumbly on a stool in the kitchen, his arm wrapped and unuseable. ¡°Keith!¡± I say, stepping up to him, ¡°Are you alright?¡± He waives his good arm at me, ¡°How can I be? Skully is gone! My project! Dust! Less and dust!¡± he points to his research trailer out the window, ¡°And my workspace, an iceberg! All my tools! Gone! All that¡¯s left is the vault which we can¡¯t get any answers from!¡± ¡°What about your arm?¡± I ask reach out for it. He eyes it, almost with a look of surprise. ¡°Oh yeah, that too.¡± ¡°Let me heal it,¡± I say and without waiting for a response, I grab it. A few seconds later the warm glow diffuses his arm and then it¡¯s done. I can¡¯t see it under the wrapping it has, but judging from Keith¡¯s surprised face and him testing his arm again, it¡¯s all better. ¡°And don¡¯t worry about Skully,¡± I said gesturing at Jeffrey who had moved on to the living room, ¡°We¡¯ve got some other good things for you to look at. You¡¯ll love it I am sure.¡± At my words his depression disappears and fire ignites in his eyes. ¡°You promise?¡± ¡°Promise, you won¡¯t be disappointed.¡± Then I look over the crowd of soldiers and say loudly, ¡°Anybody who wants healing, form a line and I¡¯ll take care of you. I¡¯ll get to everybody eventually, so there is no rush.¡± My words cause a commotion as apparently, word of my miraculous healing abilities had spread. In fact, the colonel had kept everybody who had gotten hurt from the wraiths around instead of sending them out to the hospitals around in anticipation of this. It would probably help with the secrecy of this operation, or what¡¯s left of it, to know flood the hospitals with soldiers sporting frostbite. Most of the wounds I saw had been given first aid and were bandaged appropriately, I had even drawn a crowd of observers at my antics, giving appropriate awe filled exclamations at my work. The healed were profusely grateful. I withstood their gratitude as best as I could. I know it¡¯s something that comes with the gig, but it¡¯s not something I¡¯ve ever been comfortable with nor have I learned how to handle the attention. I just smile and nod and move onto the next one. Jeffrey rescues me eventually and moves me to the living room to meet the brass. I got a small break to regain my mana and a que of only the injured get¡¯s made and managed outside my view. The rest are pushed away. The colonel sits in a desk chair, surrounded by aids and peers. I see a few men and women on the screens, looking in at the meeting. They don¡¯t speak though, so I am grateful for that at least. ¡°Not everybody looks upon your healing abilities with joy.¡± The Colonel says bluntly at my arrival, gesturing to a chair for me to sit. Keith follows us in, taking up a place next to the Colonel. Jeffrey remains too. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t expect them too,¡± I say after a moment. ¡°iIs a lot of power and influence for one person to have. It makes me dangerous.¡± I try to ignore the uniformed frowns looking out at me from the webcams. ¡°It can also seem too good to be true. I know I would hold suspicion on myself. My father always said that things that seem to be too good to be true generally are, and I agree.¡± The air feels stale at the end of my statement. Nobody says anything and I take a sip from the water bottle I acquired. ¡°However,¡± I say, afterward. ¡°I can¡¯t and won¡¯t stop helping people when I can.¡± The colonel sighs and rubbed his eyes, ¡°Of course you will.¡± He then abruptly changes the subject, ¡°Tell us about the core.¡± He points at the rock lying on his table. I swallow and my eyes dart back to the webcams for a second. ¡°The core in the temple, which I understand to be the hardware powering the whole instance, is about the size of a beach ball. As you know, I tried to destroy it originally, thinking it was the key to getting out of the instance. It didn¡¯t work and eventually I tried using my cleanse skill on it. That seemed to work and I had something like a tug of war fight with the core and I cleansed it. I won out in the end and was able to shut down the instance and return home.¡± ¡°Once I successfully cleansed it, this shriveled rock was what was left over. It doesn¡¯t have any mana signature or anything perceivable about it other than just being a small rock. It didn¡¯t seem dangerous to me at the time.¡± ¡°Why did you keep it from us?¡± He asks frankly. I pause again and say, ¡°Although I understood everything you people have done since I returned as necessary, I felt a little miffed at what I was costing me. I, uhh¡­, I felt this was a small way to get back at you. Petty even.¡± I felt the weight of the Colonel¡¯s disapproval for a few heart stopping moments before he continued. ¡°The skeletons wanted it back though.¡± ¡°Yes,¡± I say, relieved we went off that topic. ¡°I don¡¯t know how they got those wraiths, but when we fought the skeletons, we encountered a new type, a skeleton mage. I think he was able to summon them.¡± ¡°Gregory,¡± one of the voices spoke up from the web cams. She sat at a dark wooded desk in an office somewhere and she had a lot of plates on her uniform. Several people sat around her, obscured by the angle of the camera. ¡°You had said that you are unable to advance your skills or ¡®class¡¯ while on earth and you said the skeletons would not be able to either. Has that changed?¡± I stare at her for a second before shaking my head, ¡°No, I do not think so. That said, I don¡¯t believe that the skeletons advanced their classes the same way that I did, or had classes in the same way we are able to. I considered them more like computer generated enemies with no real identity. It¡¯s just my conjecture believe that their powers and ¡®classes¡¯ come directly from the instance. As the instance grew, so did their levels, despite how many of them I killed. That said, there is very little I know about how their abilities work.¡± I shake my head, ¡°There is little to know about my own abilities and how the mechanics work for that matter.¡± ¡°So you have no idea how the skeletons managed to gain this new ¡®class¡¯?¡± ¡°I have a plausible theory, but that is it. I believe that the skeletons sacrificed a few of their members in order to initiate a, uh, class evolution? Yeah, I like the sound of that, a class evolution. Once they raised up one of their own, the mage summoned their wraiths and they were on their way.¡± The woman snorts slightly. ¡°Are you just making this up, Gregory?¡± I rub my chin for a second and ponder. ¡°Yes and no,¡± I say after a moment. ¡°My experience with the instance and the system that it operates tells me that there is a certain balance in what is allowed and what happens. Somebody getting a random powerup out of nowhere doesn¡¯t fit, there has to be a cost or value associated with the increase. For leveling up, I have to exert effort and kill the skeletons. Creatures like the wraiths are given incredible strength, but also great weaknesses to balance it. While the undead there grew more powerful, it took time. There is a cost for power. I had heard of the skeleton known a Skully disappearing before Keith¡¯s very eyes,¡± I say gesturing to the man. ¡°I know it is little evidence, but it¡¯s enough for me.¡± ¡°My greatest mistake is underestimating the skeletons. I thought they were just sitting at the bottom of the lake, doing whatever skeletons do. But the creatures are more like computer programs, created to perform specific goals. I suspect it was their goal from the start to get back the core and so they retreated, formulated a plan, and then executed it. The odds were against them and it was a desperate move that ultimately failed, but it just goes to show the singular purpose the creatures had.¡± ¡°They have abilities far beyond what we know. We will be discovering new things everyday, but each new discovery is a weapon we can use as well.¡± There was a silence at my words and some shuffling before the Colonel spoke up again. ¡°What happened with the core?¡± Jeffrey and I then spent the next hour retelling our adventure. I got some food in the meantime and also healed a bunch of people as they came and went, the injuries getting less and less serious each time. I suppose this is an easy way to help attone for what I did. If somebody had died though, that would have been something I would not be able to get over so easily. My healing ability can let me get away without facing many types of consequences, but death isn¡¯t something I can fix. ¡­ Yet. That thought alone terrifies me. I¡¯m not sure if such an ability would be good or bad. ¡­ I¡¯ll try to not think about it. During the debriefing there was a lot to unpack. The new classes, the temple, the control board, the revelations as to what the small stone can do. It was Keith who brought up the small bomb. ¡°If we can understand and control the core like the skeleton mage did,¡± He says, holding and starting intently at the core. ¡°We could create a controlled environment with access to this system.¡± ¡°A place to train and level up.¡± Jeffrey adds, at my side. ¡°It would be invaluable. Necessary maybe, if what we suspect about the other instances is true. Sending in no or low leveled soldiers might be futile.¡± The colonel gives Keith a look and Keith nods back gravely. ¡°I¡¯ll make it a top priority.¡± I keep my own thoughts silent, but apparently I am easily seen through. The Colonel looks at me and asks, ¡°Anything to add, Greg?¡± I swallow and say, ¡°Considering a low level skeleton mage able to activate it, I suspect would be pretty simple to do the same. That said, the controls for it are all in a foreign language, until we figure that out we¡¯d simply have possession of a dungeon that we cannot control.¡± ¡°With you there, we can, theoretically, enter and exit at will though,¡± Keith says, looking up at me. ¡°If activating it is as easy as you suspect, you can take a group of my peers with me to give us time to study the temple from the inside and then exit as need be. If the time dilation still persists, it will take almost no time, relatively.¡± The thought leaves me dizzy. Thankfully, the Colonel comes to my rescue, sporting a nice frown, ¡°There are a lot of uncertainties.¡± ¡°But think about it,¡± Keith says, getting excited. ¡°There is so much we can learn, information we need to combat this foe. I shouldn¡¯t have to tell you that we can¡¯t fight an enemy we don¡¯t understand. We have an opportunity to learn and grow with this before tackling the sphere in Los Angeles. Greg¡¯s own words state how dangerous the more mature instance will be. I don¡¯t think we can afford not to take advantage of this opportunity, no matter how risky.¡± ¡°I agree with Keith,¡± Jeffrey adds, give me a somewhat apologetic look. ¡°I am a level three striker right now. That said, I would be no match for this instance, no matter what extra munitions and armaments I am given. Much less the sphere in Los Angeles.¡± I am getting a feeling that my life is spiraling out of my control again. But it is not a new feeling. The woman from one of the screens speaks up again, ¡°So, you want to try to activate the core and use the instance to raise the ¡®levels¡¯ of our men. How long would they need to be in there?¡± ¡°Considering the time dilation, again, almost no time at all.¡± Keith says unhelpfully. ¡°Weeks,¡± I add. ¡°Months, who knows? Time enough to feel confident in the attack on the sphere in Los Angeles. But we can¡¯t just pretend we can activate and deactivate the core as many times as we want. What if there is a limit? We have no idea what powers it, what would be the cost of activating it? For all we know, the next time we activate, assuming we can activate, would be the last and only time we could do so.¡± ¡°So we prepare for the worst and hope for the best,¡± Keith says stubbornly. ¡°Yes,¡± Jeffrey nods approvingly. I can¡¯t help but feel ganged up on by my two friends. It''s stressful and I wonder what I am even arguing about. Their points are valid, I am just feeling pressured. Before I can retort, the Colonel butts in, ¡°Greg, I understand your sentiments. This is all hypothetical, but I want your honest opinion on this. Are you still up for the attack on los Angeles tomorrow?¡± I close my eyes at the question. I try my best to calm down and think rationally. This all depends on me either way and the pressure is heavy. What the hell lead me to this point? I feel like I am deciding the fate of the goddamn world here. Smarter and better people than me should be making decisions like this, not me. I take a deep breath and respond, trying to keep my voice from shaking. ¡°If there is a chance we can level up some people before we attack the sphere in los angeles, we should take it.¡± The Colonel nods and I continue before he can speak, ¡°But there is another thing we should be considering as we try to use this alien technology.¡± I paused for dramatic effect, ¡°The occupants in the instance were building a palace for somebody. Somebody was expected to come and take residence and control of the instance, somebody powerful, beyond our current comprehension. I hesitate to mess with something of his less it brings his attention down on us.¡± ¡°More so than we already have?¡± The Colonel asks with a raised eyebrow. I nod in reply. ¡°We don¡¯t even know what the purpose of the sphere¡¯s are. We would be messing around with something we don¡¯t have any understanding at all. ¡°We¡¯ll just have to take care of it when the time comes,¡± Jeffrey adds, looking confidently at the brass, ¡°all we need to do is become stronger.¡± ¡­ Oh please, it''s going to take a lot more than that. Chapter 31 ~ Alive All my freaking clothes are gone. Again! There has been a disturbing amount of instances opening up in my bedroom! How the hell am I supposed to sleep at night? ¡­ Jokes aside, my clothes really are all gone. What clothes had survived the first sphere by being in my dirty laundry downstairs are now gone due to the second one¡¯s appearance in my hotel room. God damn it! I was drop dead tired after finishing up the healing and reporting that needed to be done and I know Jeffrey was too, even if he was being stubborn and not showing it. We were both sent away to get some rest. Even though it was still mid afternoon, for us it''s been a full, dramatic day. My room is gone again, of course, and although they had all those extra rooms at the hotel available, nobody was allowed to go back in now that the temple is there and I got shafted off to a random hotel again. With no extra clothes. Jeffrey is still with me, which is nice. He took the room next door. Some discreet guards had been posted outside, which I wasn¡¯t sure to be happy about or not. What were they protecting me from? Or were are they there to keep me from escaping? All the same, I did feel a little better knowing they were out there. Human emotions are weird. Jeffrey will be coming tomorrow morning when we try to activate the core again, which serves him right for advocating for the idea. Knowing him, he¡¯s probably not worried at all. I think he volunteered. We had stopped by a superstore really quick on our way to the less fancy hotel so I coud grab some pajamas and maybe a change of clothes for tomorrow morning. The ones I am currently had had gone in the trash. Got some more clemetines too. Also, I lost my phone again. It¡¯s really annoying. ¡­ God, it''s so annoying. After talking and talking, the meeting ended with me agreeing to try out the stupid core thing. If the thing explodes in our faces, I can¡¯t be blamed. I suppose it makes a lot more sense then just going into the sphere, Spook, blindly. I just don¡¯t like it. In fact I hate it. I tried my best to sleep, god knows I was tired. With the lights off and curtains shut, I curled the comforter around me despite the heat and laid my head down on the soft pillow. My heart beats fast and steady as I stare out into the dim room, not able to close my eyes. Scenarios run circles in my head. Bad ones. I die. My family dies. The nation dies. I''m tapped in the undead instance forever. Crows eat my bones. Insects devour my flesh. Pesos is out there, her red eyes peering out from the slimy bushes. The infection breaks out of the instance and consumes the world. I fail to protect the people coming with me tomorrow and they all die and turn into spirits like Pesos, coming after with dreadful hearts. ... Eventually I did fall asleep. I slept for several hours before I woke in a panic, clutching my comforter and cleansing my body of the curse that hadn''t come. My muscles siezed and I threw the suffocating blancket away from me in a panic. It dark and I couldn''t see, so Iimmediatly coated my entire body in flare, lighting up the room like a flare in the night. My eyes darted around the room looking for danger, zombies, mages, spirits, or grinning skeletons with their bone knives. Of course, non are there and I force myself to relax, turing off the flare and sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at the dim light filtering through the curtains from the sunset. ¡­ Yeah, I still get those. Nightmares. Except it''s still day now, so, I guess, daymares. ¡­ I was sweaty so I took a long shower and returned to my bed. But I wasn''t tired. Which is why I am here now, sitting up in bed staring at the flickering TV. The news is on and the nation has turned its eyes to our little city. The speculations are wild, but everybody knows something happened here and they aren¡¯t idiots. People are connecting the dots. They haven¡¯t pinned me down yet, but I think it is just a matter of time. It''s my house the military is occupying and also the same hotel I had been staying at where the show went down. People are bound to figure that out, right? Maybe that is why the guards are outside. Eventually I turn off the TV, there isn¡¯t anything on there I don¡¯t already know. At some point I think the military should start releasing some real info, rather than leaving the world at large in the dark. It''s not like there is an enemy we need to keep secrets from. I suppose they are waiting for a big success they can tote before that. It''s only nine pm, I think I¡¯ll give my Mom a call. I dial in her number I have memorized now, hearing the ringing in the silence of my room. ¡°Hello?¡± she answers, uncertainty. ¡°Hey Mom, it''s me.¡± I reply leaning back in my bed. ¡°Oh, sweetie. I saw your hotel get flooded by the military and you were not answering your phone. We were worried about you!¡± ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± I say, smiling on my end. ¡°My phone got destroyed again, you know. I¡¯ll probably get issued another one tomorrow.¡± ¡°What happened?¡± ¡°I.. can¡¯t talk about it.¡± ¡°Did they make you do something again? I told you you shouldn¡¯t get involved anymore.¡± I give Mom a sigh and reply, ¡°I am involved Mom. I can¡¯t get out so easily. Not anymore.¡± Mom¡¯s voice hardens. ¡°Sweetie, you can, you must. You... you¡¯re hurt Greg,¡± she says, in almost a whisper. ¡°You need rest. They can¡¯t make you do anything. I¡¯m worried for you Greg. You need rest, why can¡¯t they understand that?¡± ¡°They can¡¯t let it go,¡± I say getting louder. ¡°Don¡¯t you see the news Mom? I''m wathcin git right now! People are starting to panic and we need answers. I have to help if I can. And I can help, so I must.¡± I add in quickly before she can counter, ¡°There are good people here, Mom. People I can trust to have my back. I won¡¯t be doing this alone, I¡¯ll have the best with me.¡± There is silence on her end for a bit, before she adds harshly, ¡°Well, I don¡¯t trust them! Them? The military, the government? Whoever they are? What do they know about what¡¯s best for my boy? After what you¡¯ve been through, how can anybody in good consciousness push you on?¡± ¡°Mom, please,¡± I ask pleadingly. ¡°Just, please stop. I didn¡¯t call to get in an argument. I just wanted¡­. I just want to talk, you know?¡± There is a pause on the other end. Then I hear her again, ¡°Of course, honey. What did you want to talk about?¡± ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t know. How¡¯s Shelly doing?¡± We talked for a few hours after that. Sometimes about mundane stuff, others times about my healing of Kalli and Tim. That was news, to be sure. My sister Shelly wass doing well at my brother¡¯s house. Dad¡¯s job at the museum is going well. The irony of knowing more about the spheres than everybody else, but not being able to talk about it. Mom¡¯s arthritis is gone and how wonderful and freeing it feels. My father¡¯s sinus cavities returned after having it removed in sinus surgery before I was born due to chronic infections. Other aches and pains of age removed. Listening to Mom, I have a soft warm feeling that, even for this, it might all have been worth it. Assuming we all don''t die. When midnight hit, I let mom go. I hadn¡¯t spoken much in the one sided conversation, but I felt much better for it. ¡­. I suppose my call was being monitored, but whatever. Par for the course. I went back to sleep and I slept till morning. Better sleep than before, but not great. ¡­ Well, morning at 5 am. Close enough. I feel like I had gotten plenty of sleep this time. I dress in the clothes I had gotten yesterday on the military¡¯s dime. Jeans and a t-shirt. A decent pair of sneakers to go with it. I suppose I can get a new wardrobe with all my hazard pay money later. ¡­ If I survive all this, I¡¯m going to be pretty wealthy, so I have that going for me.Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. ¡­ Also, these are going to be replaced with some real wear provided by the military for me, so whatever. I am just about finished up with my shower and change of clothes when I hear a knocking at my door. Opening up proves my suspicions correct as I see Jeffrey waiting for me, dressed in his civilian wear again. Looking down the corridor I see a nondescript man reading his phone. I¡¯m pretty sure that¡¯s a guard. ¡°Are we getting food on the way?¡± I ask, exiting my room. My amount of personal belongings have dropped to nill lately, so the room is basically how I left it. ¡°Yes, you like hash browns?¡± ¡­ Yes I do. In fact, any kind of salty potato will do me in. We arrive at my house a little before six in the morning. Apparently they decided to fire up the core in the nature preserve. They have the whole place on lock down and it''s pretty secluded as is. Not to mention it is close to the equipment they already have set up. I don¡¯t think there is any military base nearby that we could easily do this in anyway. Barring secret ones. I meet up with Keith and his crew, theyt look both tired and excited. ¡°Did you stay up the whole night?¡± I ask, looking over Keith¡¯s disheveled appearance. He laughs at me, ¡°No. Only mostly.¡± He gives me a wide grin, ¡°We wanted to learn as much as we could about the language and control board before we do this.¡± ¡°Learn anything good?¡± Another laugh. I think the exhaustion is making this man maniac. ¡°No! Just kidding, but really, not much. It will take more than a night to decode this thing without anything to compare it to. But we have a couple ideas moving forward. With a functional control panel, maybe we will have some more data to work with and figure it out.¡± I look over at the clearing made in my backyard, attached to the preserve. Some of my trees are cut down to make room. I don''t recall giving them permission to do that. A veritable mountain of supplies had been shifted into the middle of the clearing, mostly canned food it looks like. Military grade meals and what not. ¡­ Eh, it''s a million times better than dry wynot. Seeing where I was looking, Keith gives a nod. ¡°That¡¯s enough food to last three months, barring any complications. If we supplement it with those creatures, it will last longer.¡± ¡­ I¡¯d rather die. ¡°You are coming too?¡± I ask, looking over at the sandy haired man. He gives me a winning smile. ¡°Of course! I wouldn¡¯t miss this opportunity for anything. Just think about what we might learn here!¡± I give him a frown, but I¡¯m glad he¡¯s coming. Before I can ask anymore questions, we are called into my house. I gett handed an outfit and pointed to my bathroom. Annoyed at being ordered around in my own house, I get changed with a little grumbling. I¡¯ve got nice boots now though, tough durable pants and a shirt and vest. It''s heavy, but feels comfortable on me. While unable to block a wraith, I smile at the thought of the arrows getting stopped by the material. As I stepped out of the bathroom I got handed a complementary helmet too. ¡­ Nice. We gather in the living room and I see random people in the webcams again. Like last time, I try to ignore them. My team seems to have been assembled too. Jeffrey and Keith were there of course, but I was surprised Jones and Duncan there as well. And surprised not to see O¡¯hara. ¡°They gave us a chance to choose to go,¡± Corporal Duncan replied, giving me a handshake and a smile. ¡°Jones and I felt like we could help. We already have classes and experience there, so we had that going in our favor. O¡¯hara was conflicted about coming, but ultimately agreed it would be better for Jones to come instead. Hopefully, if this works out like we want, he¡¯ll get another chance in the future.¡± ¡°I look forward to working with you again,¡± Jones states, shaking my hand with a grin matching my own. I feel warm and fuzzy inside but I can¡¯t help but say, ¡°Coming with me now basically guarantees you¡¯ll be coming with me to Spook, you know? Are you sure you want to do that?¡± Jones gives me another smile, ¡°I am. It feels like something I should do.¡± ¡­ Dang. I don¡¯t feel comfortable handling more people than six for the journey, if the worst case scenario happens and I¡¯m stuck cleansing these folks of the infections and curses all the time. So the other two people are Keith¡¯s assistants, Clarissa and Charles. All of them have volunteered for the mission and I can¡¯t help but feel a little overwhelmed at the gratitude I was feeling. ¡­ I don¡¯t know what to do with my hands. Eventually we are seated and we go over the plans, counter plans, emergency plans, plans B through Z, and more contingency plans. Basically we go through every possible scenario the brass could imagine and a few we came up with on the spot. And the two primary objectives were hammered into us. Find out as much as we can about the instance, its controls, its origin, its language, its purpose, everything. The second was similar, level up. Level up and explore the possiblites of the system. Get strong enough to face Spook, if it''s even possible. This morning the building Spook was attached to finally collapsed, its structural integrity having reached a critical point. Pressure for answers were increasing. The world wasn¡¯t watching us, but everybody in the know was. After finalizing the mission parameters and Jones said a prayer, the seven of us headed out to the clearing. The Colonel followed us out with his entourage. A random man carried over the instance core to us, laid in a metal tray. I pick it up, feeling the cold hard stone. ¡°Learn anything about this?¡± I ask, holding it up in the morning light. ¡°Yes,¡± Clarissa replied, pushing her hair back and adjusting her uniform. ¡°It''s a rock.¡± I give her a suspicious look. ¡°What she means,¡± Charles clarifies, stepping up behind her, ¡°Is that nothing we did indicates anything more than that it is a plain rock. No special properties, it appears to be granite. Accept that we cannot put a scratch or dent into it, I wouldn¡¯t have been able to differentiate it from any other granite rock. I guess that in itself is special.¡± "Right,¡± I say looking at the ugly thing. Together we head down to the clearing. Racks had been set up so as to be as efficient as possible with the space we take with us. Projections indicate a five meter radius sphere gets enveloped immediately into the instance, and we have filled that space with as much stuff as possible. It kinda looks like a cave now. A small generator was included with some fuel, mainly there to keep Keith¡¯s instruments in operation. Not too much space had been reserved for that and some solar panels were included with it to help, but, considering the hazy sky, their effectiveness is dubious. From outside the sphere, the army is going to push some additional supplies in periodically, but we don¡¯t know how effective that would be, if at all. The seven of us stood outside the cave, double checking our gear. I got my awesome spear back too, it was flown in this morning. Considering how ill prepared I was the first two times I entered the instance, I can¡¯t help but feel a bit more confident in our chances. Holding my spear in one hand and the core in the other, I turn to look at the Colonel. ¡°Any last words?¡± I ask cheekily. The Colonel snorts, but answers graciously. ¡°Good luck Greg. We all have the utmost confidence in your success in there.¡± I turn and eye my team. Lieutenant Jeffrey was given operational control of the group, which I agreed with. Ducan and Jones were familiar, proven, and trustworthy, looking hardcore fully decked out in the gear. I knew Keith and hoped his excitement wouldn¡¯t overcome his common sense. I suppose Clarissa and Charles can keep him reigned in. All in all, I couldn¡¯t have picked a team I would be more comfortable with. Perhaps that was done on purpose, but I was glad for it. ¡°Ready?¡± Jeffrey asks me, interrupting my thoughts. ¡°As I¡¯ll ever be.¡± I reply with a small grin. After confirming the same with the others, we moved into the cramped space of the supply cave. Bunched together like sardines, I got more than one elbow in my side. ¡°Ready to see that lovable murder dog again?¡± Jeffrey asks me as I lift up the stone. I smile back at him. ¡°I think so.¡± Then I turn to the group, ¡°I¡¯m going to try to activate it now, be prepared.¡± I hold it up into the optimal spot and try my best to infuse mana into it. ¡­ Nothing. ¡­ I try to cleanse and flare it with no more effecs than lighting up the cave. I switch back to pure mana and push it in. ¡­ Again nothing. ¡°Talk to me, Greg.¡± Keith says next to me. ¡°I can put mana into it, but nothing is happening.¡± ¡°You said this would be simple.¡± Keith responds back, accusingly. ¡°It probably is, doesn¡¯t mean I know what it is exactly,¡± I say through gritted my teeth. I spend an agonizing several minutes doing everything I can think of to activate the damn thing before I breathe out in frustration. It was getting ridiculously hot in here. ¡°Let me try,¡± Keith says, irritably, ¡°Give it here.¡± ¡°You try?¡± I ask exasperatedly, ¡°What are you going to do to it? Meditate on it?¡± ¡°Just let me try!¡± ¡°No!¡± ¡°Give it here,¡±Jeffrey interrupts, ¡°We are not giving up until we all try something. We can take a break in a few minutes.¡± I give Jeffrey the damn rock and watch him struggle the same as I did, if not worse. He¡¯s got a much smaller mana pool than I. Soon enough, the rock makes the rounds and Jeffrey radios out the situation. ¡­ So what is the answer? I don¡¯t know. For all I know, it''s a class specific ability to mages. Maybe only mages can acitivate the stupid instance. But that¡¯s not a helpful line of thought, so I shut it down. Along with all the other dead ends in my mind. ¡­ So if not that, then what else? I think back to my interactions with the core. Mainly, when it was trying to eat me alive. During that time, the stupid thing seemed to be activly trying to fight me, like it had a mind of its own, even after I had killed the dungeon manager. Clearly, its existence was separate from its manager, or guardian. The manager was making the temple for somebody else, not for himself. The core was the base of that operation, like a seed. Perhaps these were the seeds sent to earth to plant the sphere and grow them into what they wanted them to be, properly managed and pruned by a gardener. The dungeon manager. But the instance exists even without the manager. ¡­ Was the instance alive? Was the core alive? Or, alive in a sense? I think back to the fight, remembering the feeling of the core¡¯s mana fighting my own. Black, insidious, and hungry. Alive? Maybe, but a mana unto itself. A unique mana signature. An undead mana signature. Clarissa had the core now but she only gave it a perfunctory glance. Jeffrey let out a sigh and said, ¡°Alright, let¡¯s head back out and get some more ideas going.¡± ¡°Let me try one more time,¡± I say. ¡°I think I¡¯ve got an idea.¡± ¡°Yeah?¡± Jeffrey asks, not impressed. I take the core from Clarissa. ¡°We are putting our own mana into it, but this thing had its own mana. I need to give it mana it can take and keep, and make its own. Maybe give it a jumpstart.¡± There was a silence as they digested my words and I pondered my next move. ¡°And how the hell are you going to do that?¡± Keith asks, breaking the silence. I don¡¯t answer, but start playing with the rock again, trying different mana configurations. I sneak a tendril in, like bait on a fishing line, but no dice. I try to smother it again, willing the core to take it. Lastly, I send a bunch in and then immediately cut my connection to it. ¡­ That last one seems to work, immediately my hand gets stuck to it like before and inside it I feel a foreign presence. It starts sucking in my mana like a hungry newborn and I let out a short laugh. ¡°Success! Everybody hang on.¡± The rock in my hands starts growing, turning black and smooth and I raise it closer to the ceiling where there is more room for it to expand. The stream of mana being taken from me increases to a river and I start worrying about my mana supply, hoping I have enough. Soon, I''m down to a third left. After that, the river turns into a trickle and I feel mana start coming from the now fully grown core, like an engine now under its own power. It lets go of my hand, and I thankfully pull it back. The core defies gravity and stays where I left it, the air now shimmering around us. Weightless hits us next and the last thought I had before we were transported is that I hope the engineers stabilized our supply pile properly. I will be very cross if I end up with the piles falling down on us. Chapter 32 ~ Again Only a few of the supplies fell from the scaffolding during the transition. Looks like the engineers knew what they were doing, so credit where credit is due. Also a positive note, we didn¡¯t die from playing around with an alien artifact we only have basic theories on how it actually operates. Woo. We exited the cave and I spent the next five minutes cleansing everybody from the curses before they all died, all the while wondering why the hell I subjected myself to this instance again. Twice is a coincidence. Three times is a trend. Why? Oh yeah, we are facing, what I believe to be, super powerful creatures in the other instances with potential levels in the hundreds if not thousands. Our guns were effective last time in this instance and I believe they will wipe the floor of any hostiles this time as well, barring more wraiths. But at some point the level difference might make them lose effectiveness. Would a shotgun blast kill a level 100 armored skeleton? I don¡¯t know and we need to act as if they won¡¯t be able to, until proven otherwise. Again and again, I am reminded that there is still so much we don¡¯t know. The instance looks the same though, the ugly green land, sick mossy trees and rotted vegetations strewn around. I didn¡¯t miss this place. At least there isn¡¯t a welcoming party. Jeffrey organizes the group, keeping people close as we unpack the supplies. The core is stuck inside the cave, its new size preventing us from moving it until we clear the way. Also, I got a rad new title in my status.
Inner Light: (level 17) A unique light attribute class able to learn every light attribute skill and uses mana directly for every skill. Class locks all other potential attributes and skill types. Skill usage limited only to quantity of Mana available Instance Manager: Mana is connected to an artificial instance construct
Mana: 45/462.2106472 Regen: 22.8516944 per minute
Skills: Cleanse Clear body of foreign influences
Heal Enhances natural healing
Flare Coat external surfaces with light energy to give a light attribute to object
Edge:Sub-Skill of Flare Coat the edge of a blade with light energy to give a specialized offensive light attribute to object
Barrier:Sub-Skill of Flare Project a corporeal light energy plane to create a specialized defensive light attribute barrier
Getting the title did not come as a big surprise, we had suspected there would be some sort of connection between the core and its activator. Not much information is given to me regarding my new status as the instance manager, but the artificial line in the description is interesting. I¡¯ll let Keith and his team chew on it. While my new abilities aren¡¯t apparent, when I touch the core, instead of my hand sticking to it and being forced into a duel over my life, I am met with no resistance and the core moves easily at my touch. Once we cleared the opening of the cave a little I was able to steer it out. We kept the core clear of anybody else for now, we didn¡¯t want any accidents. Additionally and happily, touching the core brings up a bunch of other screens that I can interact with. The big bummer is that none of them are in english, but are in the unknown language of the Black Mage and Co. Afraid of screwing everything up, I leave it alone for now. I¡¯m not looking forward to learning another language if it comes down to it. Spanish was hard enough. Another thing for Keith and o tackle. ¡­ I¡¯m going to have to write down everything I am seeing, aren¡¯t I? ¡°Artificial?¡± Keith asks, quizzically, taking in the instance like a fish to water. ¡°That might explain why the language isn¡¯t translating automatically for you like the rest of the system. Somebody, or something created this core. That also infers that natural instances are a thing.¡± Keith scribbles down on his notepad, already a page filled with his maniac writing. He stopped and then scratched his chin with his pen, ¡°Although, this brings into question, again, the origin of the system in the first place. Created or natural?¡± The rest of us did not comment. I, for one, was not ready for that question yet. Another issue of import is my personal vengeance spirit. I got the same notification when I came here that it respawned and was out for blood. My blood. I had hoped that with me being the manager I could remove the curse or whatever, but it''s still stubbornly clinging to me. I would be legitimately scared of Pesos now if her level hadn¡¯t been reset. Current theory is that having another person ¡°kill¡¯ her was what caused the reset. An easy enough conclusion and a lucky break going forward. Still, that vengeful greyhound is still out there, waiting, its levels reset, but, perhaps, its cleverness still retained. Perhaps still smart enough to hide and ambush. Perhaps spying on me right now. Even on earth I sometimes got the chill, the feeling that she was out there, waiting for me. A quick turn of the shoulder. A moving shadow at the edge of my sight. A flash of fangs in the corner of the room. ¡­ It¡¯s not paranoia if they really are out to get you. ... Just what I needed. Jeffrey comes over to me after establishing a small perimeter. ¡°My system is back,¡± he says flatly, eyeing the sickly landscape with me. Aye, it is. We had gone through dozens of possible scenarios and had developed contingency plans for each one, one such possibility that without a proper operator of the core the system itself wouldn¡¯t operate. It''s a love hate relationship I have with it. ¡°Yes, good news.¡± I say, not taking my eyes off the landscape. ¡°Pesos is out there?¡± I nod back and we look out over the grim hills, reflecting on my personal poltergeist. The hills are still and unnatural. The undead setting of the instance appears to be hardwired into the core, which is a bummer. A small part of me was hoping I¡¯d get some options once I started the core, maybe get some meadows and prancing ponies. Changing the landscape to a more hospitable setting is still a hopeful possibility, but until we can translate the language, it''s a moot point. So much of what we want depends on translating and understanding the core. So far, little in the instance has changed due to me being the manager. The curse is still around, the infections are still around, and the dead land is still here. Are the spawned creatures, zombies, skeletons, and wynts, going to be here, or was that a setting that needed the manager to activate it? Is the instance going to grow all by itself, or is direct control needed for that? Time will tell. ¡°We need to find the temple.¡± I say, finally taking my eyes off the shadows and turning to Jeffrey. He nods back at me. In all my experiences, the temple was the one place where the infections didn¡¯t come in. A safe zone, it might even block the curse. It makes sense if somebody was going to live there. It was also where the black mage lived. If we wanted to survive here long term, we would need to use that place as a base. Sleeping out here with the seven of us, even with our fancy tents, gives us too much risk. If we can¡¯t find the temple within the first day, I¡¯m going to try to deactivate the instance and return us home. The problem is, was the temple part of the original setting, or is it something the manager would need to create? Jeffrey organized the camp and Jones and Duncan were sent off to find the temple, under strict orders to avoid the creek and return under a half an hour. Communicate over the radio every five minutes. If anything unexpected happens, they were to return immediately. Mitigate risk as much as possible. I am not too worried about Pesos going after them. Besides her being back to level one, all her animosity is geared towards me. Last time she never gave the others the time of day. With a salute, the two are off. Despite everything, I can¡¯t keep the ominous feeling out of my gut. Why am I back here again? I stick close to our supplies, periodically cleaning them just in case. The three scientists work quietly, the oppressive atmosphere of the instance lending to quiet voices. Their words carry over in the green misty morning. ¡°You were stuck here for two weeks?¡± Clarissa asks me in a hushed voice as I help her take down a large canister from the top of the scaffolding. ¡°I mean, I read the reports, but seeing it now¡­¡± I nod my head, wondering how to respond. ¡°It''s much nicer having people with you,¡± I reply back, setting down the canister. ¡°Its obvious but true. I spent half the time wondering if any of it was even real, if I could escape by¡­ you know, ending it.¡± I try to give her a grin, but probably just end up looking unbalanced. ¡°Having people here helps you keep your sanity if nothing else. Also, It helped having somebody to focus my hate on. A goal, you know? A part of me just didn¡¯t want that smug bastard to win. Not when I still had options.¡± Clarissa merely nods her head with a troubled look and moves to the next object in the stack. ¡°Also,¡± I add, trying to paint a better picture, ¡°It wasn¡¯t always this quiet. Right now this is just erie, but, eventually, some creatures appeared and filled the silence.¡±This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. She gives me a face, ¡°Didn¡¯t they all try to kill you and eat you alive?¡± ¡­ Maybe ¡­ ¡°Not the birds!¡± I say after a moment. ¡°They just flew around and cleaned up after the battles. Their cawing really annoyed me at first, but eventually I appreciated their presence.¡± She doesn¡¯t say anything but reaches up for the next item. I doubt what I said was very encouraging and I¡¯m probably not giving her the best picture. We had only met a few days ago anyway. Standard ethics say that hate is a self destructive trait, but for me, it was an emotion that drove me forward. I hated the mage. I truly did. And still do. ¡°Heads up.¡± Jeffrey calls out, shaking me out of my thoughts. I look up at Jeffrey and see a shambling zombie crashing slowly through some brush a ways away. The green fungus covers the thing from head to toe, making the thing a crusty sick abomination. Its half rotten and ridged face points in our direction despite both its eyes missing, filled with hard crusted green growths ¡°Keep a look out behind us Greg, I¡¯ve got eyes on this one.¡± Jeffrey orders me calmly. I nod and turn around, looking out over the rest of the landscape. ¡°Fascinating,¡± Keith exclaims, over on the other side of the supply pile. ¡°I wonder if it is the fungus itself that drives the body, or something else. I don¡¯t suppose we can detain and study?¡± Uh, how about no. ¡°Not the zombies,¡± I hear Jeffrey say. ¡°The risk of infection is too dangerous. We put these down and cleanse them, that''s it.¡± I can hear Keith cluck his tongue, but I agree with Jeffrey. The idea of the fungus controlling the zombies makes sense and frightens me. Would it include some sort of hive consciousness? They¡¯ve never indicated any sort of intelligence, but we can¡¯t rule it out. ¡°How do you want to handle it?¡± I call out, still facing the other way. ¡°Switch paces with me,¡± Jeffrey replies. ¡°Who wants the honor of first kill?¡± He adds dryly. I turn around and take Jeffrey¡¯s place, the zombie making poor progress in the dense undergrowth. A loud silence follows as the scientists debate with their eyes. ¡°There might be other ways to obtain classes.¡± Charles says, bringing up an old argument. ¡°All the classes can¡¯t be based on just killing things, surely?¡± ¡°There is the Alchemist class that O¡¯hara has,¡± I say, ¡°But that was still acquired by killing the wynot. I haven¡¯t seen any way of acquiring levels outside of killing.¡± ¡°How did the black mage level up then?¡± Clarissa asks, stepping up beside me and Keith, eyeing the zombie with distaste. I shrug. ¡°He must have gotten it from operating the instance. Or some other way, there is no way to know.¡± ¡°Until you start getting levels randomly.¡± Kieth cuts in. A silence descends on us as we contemplate. We had discussed this issue yesterday and this morning in length, but we still had no real answers. ¡°Hurry it up, fellas!¡± Jeffrey calls back to us. ¡°If you want to wait for your classes, just have Greg destroy it already.¡± Before anybody else can say anything, a distant gunshot rings over the landscape. Grabbing his radio, Jeffrey calls out to Jones and Duncan. ¡°Status, Corporal.¡± ¡°Just a single zombie we neutralized, Lieutenant.¡± The frank voice of Duncan replies over the radio. ¡°No much else to note. We¡¯ve found the sludge stream and avoided it, but other than a single zombie it''s been quiet. We both have infections, but they are in early stages, we plan to stay out for another ten minutes before heading back.¡± ¡°No sign of the temple?¡± ¡°No sir. We found the western boundary, as it is. It is¡­ interesting to look at. I¡¯m sure when we get settled Keith would like to inspect it. We are turning north now.¡± ¡°Be careful, Corporal.¡± Jeffrey replies back. ¡°No unnecessary risks.¡± I wonder what a necessary risk would entail, but the Corporal merely replies in an affirmative before signing off. The unnatural silence comes back in force at the end of the call. The struggling zombie captures all the attention. ¡°Is it a coincidence that both zombies appeared at the same time?¡± Charles asks, looking around, concerned. ¡°Or is the instance starting to activate its functions?¡± ¡­ I don¡¯t know. ¡°It¡¯s too early to tell,¡± Keith cuts in. ¡°For now, we need to decide what to do with this zombie.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll do it,¡± Clarissa says hesitantly, her voice lacking a clear desire. ¡°How do you want to do it?¡± I reply back, keeping my eyes on the creature. ¡°I¡¯ll electrocute it.¡± She says grimly. She gives the zombie one last look before turning back to the supply cave. We had brought some tools with us for this scenario. What were the ways we could manipulate the system to get useful classes? Bring specialized tools with us to do the job. One was what Clarissa was pulling out now. A powerful taser, overcharged to be lethal. Not a practical weapon in real life, guns would be far more effective. But perhaps a way to get a unique class? Why not? ¡°I¡¯ll incapacitate it.¡± I say aloud and then I wait for the zombie to clear the obstruction he was currently struggling in. Clarissa makes it back before the zombie breaks free and we wait a few moments. ¡­ If she got some awesome lightning powers from this, that would be... awesome. Soon enough, the zombie moves on and I move forward and try to make some precise swings at it. I don¡¯t use flare or edge, but just the blade of the weapon. A couple strokes later the arms are inexpertly chopped off. Unperturbed, the zombies stumbles forward at me, its rancid breath giving me infection notifications. I move back with it and soon enough the legs are gone too. It falls forward on its face, wriggling ungainly on the ground and making soft grunting sounds, muffled by the mucky soil. ¡°All yours,¡± I say dryly and step back a little to give Clarissa a clear opening. I cleanse myself of the infection. Her face a little pale, Clarissa steps close, her instrument of choice in her steady hands. Then she bunches her face up in disgust. ¡°I got infected again. This thing is disgusting.¡± ¡°This is why we won¡¯t keep it for study. I¡¯ll cleanse you and the zombie when you are done.¡± One fried zombie corpse later we got what we wanted. While I cleanse away burnt black zombie and its remains, Clarissa read out her new class for the group. ¡°Torch Bearer. A class that equips items and ideas and moves them forward.¡± I glance at Keith and he holds a contemplative frown. ¡°Not what we were looking for. Kind of ambiguous. What¡¯s that really mean?¡± ¡°What are the skills that come with it?¡± I ask, finishing up my task. ¡°Uh¡± she replies, her face getting that odd unfocused look. ¡°I¡¯ve got Equip, which allows me to take a physical item or weapon and uh, understand it? It¡¯s not clear, but it''s letting me equip this taser thing.¡± A moment later her eyes light up, literally, and she gasps. ¡°Yeah, wow. I¡¯ve got this thing now. I got a notification giving me information about it. Not much new, just a basic understanding of how it works. I can also¡­¡± Her voice fades as she appears to fiddle with it. A second later, she looks up with a smile. ¡°I¡¯ve just linked the device to my mana. I can charge it. Oh wow¡­ I can see it. I can see the taser, I mean, I can feel how it works. Wow. I could probably make repairs to it too, if need be, with just my mana. This seems like a pretty versatile skill.¡± She starts finagling with the taser again as I consider. I tap her on the shoulder and hold out my spear. ¡°Here, equip this and tell me what you see about it. I haven''t been able to identify it yet.¡± With a slight hesitation on giving up her taser, she takes the spear from me. Keith and Charles look on with interest, Keith scribbling madly on his notepad. Jeffrey was still keeping a sharp eye out for more enemies. Clarissa¡¯s eyes light up again, with a noticeable glow, which I assume is a sign she is activating her skills. She gives out a gasp again. ¡°Wow! Just¡­. Wow. This thing¡­ where did you get this Greg?¡± she asks me excitedly. ¡°This was from the black mage?¡± ¡°What can you tell me about it?¡± Clarissa frowns again and peers down, inspecting the beautiful craftsmanship. ¡°There is a lot that¡¯s locked. I think I¡¯ll have to get to a higher level before I can properly see it, but there are certainly a lot of functions built into it. Most are blocked and I can¡¯t see. This thing is a high quality item, it''s designed to be nigh indestructible and can link with a mage to be a conduit for spell casting. An amplifier. I can¡¯t use those kinds of functions as I am not a mage nor am I high level enough. I can do this, though.¡± She points the spear away and it makes a loud whistling sound before a jet of yellow and orange flames burst out of the tip like a flame thrower. The affected lasted only a second before it ended, Clarissa suddenly swaying on her feet. Lowering the spear to lean on it for support, she gives us all a smile. ¡°Whew! That almost used up the rest of my mana.¡± ¡°Holy shit, that¡¯s epic!¡± Charles says, looking at the scorched ground appreciatively. The edges of the scar is still lit with small flames, but eventually the dampness of the land snuffs them out. I have to agree with Charles. Shooting flames! I can see myself roasting my enemies at range already! It''s probably mana intensive, but I¡¯ve got plenty these days. I hold my hands out eagerly. ¡°It is great, but neither of you can use it.¡± Clarissa states, looking at me. ¡°This thing is made for mages and only they can properly activate it. I can do it because of my class, but I won¡¯t have the mana reserves to properly operate it.¡± ¡­ How can this be?? I take my spear back, a sour expression showing on my face. Clarissa gives me an amused laugh. ¡°It¡¯s still a good weapon for anybody, but you won¡¯t be able to use most of the functions. Perhaps Corporal Duncan could use it?¡± ¡°She and Private Smielnisk are technically sorcerers,¡± Charles adds. ¡°It might be a class restriction.¡± Maybe. I don¡¯t know if I want them to or not, even if it does work. I study my beautiful spear mournfully. Why do you hide your secrets from me? Am I unworthy? Jeffrey gives me a look and a grin from across the supply pile. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Greg. Nobody is taking your spear without your permission.¡± I grunt back a reply, still sour. Clarissa was low on mana for the moment so she explained her other skill while we waited for Ducan and Jones to call in. ¡°My other skill is Channel. It says I can copy a skill from another person.¡± My eyes bulge. Are you kidding me? ¡°Can you take my cleanse skill?¡± She considers and nods. ¡°I¡¯ll need to wait a while till I have enough mana to activate the skill, but I think I¡¯ll be able to use it.¡± ¡°That would be incredibly helpful! That skill is the only one that keeps us alive here!¡± ¡°Can you take any other skills?¡± Jeffrey asks. ¡°I can, but at this point I can only have one at a time.¡± Jeffrey nods. ¡°Take cleanse when you can then.¡± Eventually, Clarissa¡¯s mana returns and she takes my skill, grabbing onto my hands and closing her eyes. A moment later I feel it, I can feel my skill with her, like an extension of my ability. I feel I can cut it off too and end her connection to it. It''s a weird feeling and slightly uncomfortable. But ultimately successful. Moments later, Clarissa is a proud user of cleanse. ¡°The target has to be willing,¡± I add once we are done. ¡°I feel I can take the skill back on my end.¡± Jeffrey nods, ¡°Good to know. That¡¯s a convenient class.¡± He looks over at Keith and Charles, ¡°With how powerful cleanse is, we might have at least one of you two take the class as well. It might be helpful in working with the temple controls here too.¡± ¡°Assuming it''s even here.¡± I add unhelpfully. ¡°I could try equipping the core,¡± Clarissa says, looking over at the large black marble sitting off to the side. ¡°We could get a lot of information that way.¡± ¡°No way, we don¡¯t know how it will react to you touching it.¡± I say hastily. ¡°It tried to eat me when I touched it!¡± ¡°But you were an enemy then,¡± she says, looking back at me with a thoughtful expression. ¡°I am an ally.¡± ¡°Does the core know that?¡± I ask rhetorically. ¡°I¡¯m willing to risk it.¡± ¡°You are not doing anything right now, so hold your horses.¡± Jeffrey breaks in before I could reply. ¡°We can discuss that option later. For now, just keep unpacking the supplies.¡± I suppose that¡¯s the best option. I can just see the core sucking the life force out of any poor sap on contact, despite it being under my ¡®control¡¯. I¡¯m not feeling particularly in control right now.¡± Clarisa¡¯s willingness to try her mettle at the core only reinforces my idea that, despite how conventional she and Charles may appear at first glance, both are decidedly abnormal. Normal people do not willingly, nay, enthusiastically, enter a world like this instance, knowing what they are getting into. If I had a choice, I would never have come back here. The soldiers get a pass because they are soldiers. But these scientists? What would drive them to leave the safe confines of their laboratories to come to this place where death threatens with every breath of the lungs? Mad, every single one of them. No additional zombies show as we continue to unpack the cave. Buried in the supplies were parts needed to assemble the trailer meant to carry most of the goods, along with a small treaded engine meant to pull it. Little fuel had been given to it, the contraption was mostly meant to be a one time use to carry all of our food and supplies to the temple. It can be solar powered too, but I¡¯m not betting on the sky clearing anytime soon. I cleanse the supplies often during the process of unloading. I¡¯m not about to take chances with my precious food supply. Soon enough, Jeffrey¡¯s walkie talkie squawks as the soldiers report back. The temple has been found. They were sick and infected though, and said they were heading back, marking the Temple¡¯s location, northeast of here, based on the dim sun¡¯s location in the sky. They encountered another single wandering zombies but no skeletons, not testing the creek for wynots. One other creature they saw though, a black greyhound skulking around, eyeing them for a moment before slinking away into the underbrush. Ghostly black wisps dissipated from where it had stood. I wasn¡¯t surprised, but I still felt my gut drop at the words. Pesos was back. Again. Chapter 33 ~ Worth it When the two soldiers returned Keith had Clarissa use her new cleanse skill on Jones to determine its effectiveness. As far as I could tell, it was just as potent as my skill, she just had much less mana than I at this point. She barely cleaned up Jones, the man was lethargic and stiff from the infection but returned to his energetic ways as soon as the gray dust blew off. I cleaned up the Corporal as well and gave the rest of the group a top off. Having Clarissa as a back up relieved my tension immensely though. We finished packing up as much of the supplies as possible onto the trailers and then carried the rest on our backs. It was heavy stuff, but nobody complained. They had better not, otherwise they¡¯d end up eating wynot meat for the rest of the instance. As we trudged through the mossy ground on our way to the temple, I wondered what was going on out in the real world. Not much, considering the time dilation. There was a plan for the military to push some supplies into the sphere periodically, but I doubt it would even come to that. We might be finished up in here before they even had time to push around another wagon. Besides the pack on my back, I pushed the stupid core around. The thing was light and hovered above the ground, defying gravity, but it was bulky and hard to maneuver. Worse, I couldn¡¯t see over it as I pushed it, making the whole journey annoying as I kept tripping over the land. Nobody could help me either on account they might die. Like it''s the ark of the covenant or something. Charles stayed with me, carrying a pretty heavy pack as well. ¡°So, how did you get onto Keith¡¯s team here, Charles?¡± I asked, trying to make small talk as I slipped on the damp foliage. I try to give him a smile, ¡°What made you pursue a life of alien artifact research?¡± Charles gave me a chuckle, straining under his own load. ¡°It wasn''t my first choice, actually. I had applied to several other laboratories for my doctorate program, but I wasn¡¯t accepted in any of them. I was part of a research fellowship at Sealridge Laboratories, but that project got shut down earlier this year. I needed another gig in order to finish up my doctorate program, but nothing was coming to me.¡± He looked over pointedly over at Keith, ¡°I knew Keith from early on in my grad classes, he was several years ahead of me. He offered me a position with him and I almost didn¡¯t accept it.¡± Charles looked over and gave me a grimace, ¡°Working for the military has its own stigmatism, but, like I said, I needed the gig. That was a few months ago.¡± He adjusted the back on his shoulders and gave me a halfhearted smile. ¡°And now it''s turned into this? Unbelievable, right? The worst part of it is I can¡¯t use any of the material here in my thesis, it''s all classified at this point.¡± ¡°Huh,¡± I reply, not knowing what to say. Charles has been a nice enough guy since I first met him, but it still boggles my mind he volunteered to come to this rotten place. His answer seemed pretty normal, what would motivate a desk researcher to risk certain death? It sounded like the guy just wanted to finish school. ¡°So, any family?¡± Charles shrugs. ¡°Mom lives in Florida, moved down there a few years ago after she and Dad got a divorce. Her parents live down there, so she¡¯s with her family. Dad¡¯s still around, but I don¡¯t see him much anymore. I¡¯ve got a sister, but she¡¯s married and works in Seattle with her husband. They¡¯ve got a cute kid, turning three this year. I¡¯ve met him a few times.¡± ¡°No, er¡­ partner?¡± Charles gives me an eye roll. ¡°I broke up with my ex last year. She was bad for me, you know? Toxic relationship. No kids either. Why do you want to know?¡± I consider Charles before I answer. The guys got brown hair with brown eyes, an easy grin and a carefree attitude. He¡¯s about my age, a few years younger maybe, late twenties. But apparently works hard and gets serious at the right times. Keith thought highly of him and his work. ¡°I¡¯m just curious, you know.¡± I say, keeping the core in front of me. ¡°You seem very normal, I guess, so I don¡¯t understand why you would come on this mission where you have a very real risk of death.¡± Charles gives me a laugh. ¡°I know right? If my mom knew she would kick my ass so hard my cheeks would be red for weeks. No, I¡¯ll be keeping this a secret from her forever.¡± We trudge along a little longer before I come back. ¡°But, why did you come, you didn¡¯t answer the question.¡± ¡°Why did you come?¡± Charles says, shooting my question back at me. I scowled at him. ¡°I have to come. You know that, I need to keep you guys cleansed or else you¡¯ll die. You can¡¯t do this without me.¡± ¡°Sure,¡± Charles replies easily, ¡°but why bother at all?¡± I keep scowling at him and don¡¯t answer. Its a dumb question anyway, how am I supposed to answer that? Charles keeps talking after my non response. ¡°You are an accountant, right? You work at a local company.¡± ¡°Right,¡± I say automatically, ¡°Hershwhile Transportation. On 32nd street.¡± ¡°Yet here you are, even less likely than me to be here, challenging these alien deathtraps, trying to save the world.¡± He waives his hands around, showcasing the marshy landscape. ¡°That¡¯s a lot to put on yourself. How can I step away from this when you¡¯ve put yourself out there so far you''re liable to never make it back to back? You¡¯re just one man, we can¡¯t let you carry all this on your own.¡± ¡­ ¡°That¡¯s how I see it, at least.¡± Charles adds looking off and away. ¡°Anyway, success here means a lot for my career, so there¡¯s that, eh? Plus, I¡¯m part of ground breaking research into the very fabric of reality with tangible subjects to study. It''s hard to say no to that. I know you¡¯ll keep me safe, though, right? I have complete faith in you. Plus, I want to do magic.¡± ¡­ High praise. ¡­ and don¡¯t thank me yet. ¡°What kind of class do you want?¡± I ask, changing the subject. ¡°Clarissa¡¯s class is nice, I might end up taking it too. There¡¯s value in figuring out all the different possible classes we can get depending on the variables, but we don¡¯t have the resources for that. The class that Private O¡¯hara has might be good too. Ideally, something that will help me translate the languages at the temple. If Clarissa¡¯s class allows her to do that, then I am totally taking it. It sounds like it would be helpful back home too, you know? Ah.¡± He paused, coughing. He gives me a weary smile. ¡°Lung infection. Can you help a brother out?¡± I roll my eyes at him and lean over to cleanse him. We make it to the temple without issue, a couple of zombies appeared on our trek, but Jones and Jeffrey neutralized one each. I had identified one of them before it got blasted with a shotgun and saw that it was level one. Pesos hasn¡¯t shown her black snout since Jones and Duncan spotted her, but I know she is out there. At level one her threat is much diminished, but just knowing there¡¯s a spirit always out there waiting to rip your throat out is unbalancing. On the other hand, I think I¡¯ve been unbalanced for a while now. It''s nothing new. The temple is exactly what we expected to see, the granite A frame structure looking over the dead expanse of the instance. It''ll be a tight squeeze for us all to stay here until we figure out how to expand it, especially with stuffing the supplies inside. The core stays outside for now. Judging by the brown earth outside the temple in a ring devoid of the plant matter and other instance settings, I think the whole area is protected. We¡¯ll soon find out. ¡°At last, we meet!¡± Keith coos as soon as he enters the doors, ignoring his two assistants unpacking. He makes a beeline for the holographic board, the blue light dimly illuminating the room. Jeffrey motions over to me at the door and we make our way to the steps together. ¡°Can¡¯t believe we are back here.¡± He says, looking over the landscape. I snort back at him. ¡°No kidding. I¡¯ve been saying that since the first moment here.¡± Silence descends for a few moments while I wait for Jeffrey to continue. He speaks up after a second. ¡°This is a great opportunity for all of us, Greg. We couldn¡¯t have done this without you. You are used to going at this alone and you must hate being back here. But know that you aren¡¯t alone anymore.¡± I look at Jeffrey. He¡¯s got a stern serious face on and I can¡¯t help but laugh a little at him. ¡°Did somebody tell you to say that to me?¡± I ask with a smile. ¡°Yes,¡± Jeffrey admitted. ¡°But it¡¯s still true. With what you¡¯ve been through its important for you to know that people have your back. It¡¯s not Greg versus the world, despite how you may feel.¡± ¡°Thanks Lieutenant,¡± I reply. ¡°I mean it, but I would feel better once everybody¡¯s leveled up some and Clarissa can support everybody by herself.¡± ¡°Agreed.¡± Unpacking and unloading took the better part of an hour, leaving somebody on look out. Not much happened out in the instance, except for a few wandering zombies. No skeletons had appeared yet, assuming they would at all. We also determined that Clarissa could not ¡®equip¡¯ the control board and give herself instant understanding of it, which was a bummer. Keith¡¯s got some theories as to why, but ultimately we don¡¯t know why it works the way it does. That leaves few options on translating, the most likely, brute forcing the issue with trial and error. That seems to me particularly foolish but I decided to leave that issue to Keith and Co. It¡¯s not like I have a better idea. Before we do any of that though, we go wynot and zombie hunting. Clarissa needs some levels and Keith and Charles need classes. We leave Jones and Clarissa behind for the first trip, Charles goes for the safe option and chooses the same class as Clarissa, electrocuting the first zombie we come across with the beefed up taser gun and secures for himself the class. ¡°Astounding.¡± Charles says afterwards, holding aloft the side arm he has been issued. ¡°I¡¯ve had a little training with guns before, but now I understand how this thing works, how its connected, how to clean it¡­¡± his voice drifts off and he aims the weapon off to the side, pointing at a particularly gnarly stump. He ultimately doesn¡¯t pull the trigger though and looks around sheepishly. ¡°The skill can give me the correct form for aiming, but it doesn''t actually make me aim better.¡± ¡°Does the knowledge stay with you if you equip something else?¡± Keith asks. Taking the taser back, Charles equips it and then gives us a frown. ¡°No¡­ it doesn¡¯t. It feels like¡­. A little like a dream, you know? At first the memories are vivid, but the more I think about it¡­.¡± his voice trails off and he eyes the taser. ¡°It costs mana to equip items too, so I can¡¯t keep doing it forever.¡± He looks over at us and gives a smile. ¡°Still a rad class.¡±Stolen story; please report. I see Duncan roll her eyes at him. I give him a shrug. ¡°Maybe in the future you¡¯ll gain the ability to retain knowledge. ¡°Maybe.¡± Charles replies amicably. I let him copy my cleanse skill. Keith wants something different though and he¡¯s convinced he knows the best way to get the type of class he wants. ¡°I need something that will help me interact with the temple. A technology class, you know? What if I build something I then use to kill a zombie. Eh?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± I say thoughtfully. ¡°I kinda feel like trying to get a class is a little bit like giving wishes to an evil genie. The wish is going to be intentionally misinterpreted and you are not going to get what you are looking for exactly.¡± ¡°What if you build a cage and starve a wynot to death?¡± Duncan added in. Uh¡­. ¡°What if you planted some stakes into the ground and then dropped a wynot on them? Or,¡± Duncan asked, mostly to herself now, her hand up to her chin thoughtfully. ¡°What if you ate a wynot to death? What kind of class would that give, do you think?¡± ¡°I honestly don¡¯t want to think about it,¡± I reply with a shudder. ¡°That kind of action seems to be asking for trouble. I think you would die from the poison and acid before that happens anyway.¡± ¡°But you could keep Keith healed while he ate the wynot, so it could work!¡± Duncan insisted, a morbid curiosity in her eyes. ¡°Maybe¡­¡± I reply uncertainty as I look over at Keith. Keith was giving Duncan a horrified expression. After a moment, Duncan laughed at him. ¡°Seriously, though.¡± Keith replied, clearing his throat. ¡°I kinda like the stakes idea. But it sounds like it might give a class associated with making good traps. Not what I am looking for.¡± ¡°I agree.¡± I say, watching Duncan¡¯s grin off to the side. ¡°Gregory.¡± Jeffrey¡¯s voice calls out from across the group. He nods in a direction and I see Pesos crouching among some foliage a ways away, inching her way forward on her stomach. It looks a little comical as she shuffles forward, but I guess her skill that let her turn to mist and reappear a ways away was gone so she¡¯s got to work with what she¡¯s got. Sensing my attention I hear her growl and stand up, abandoning her stealth. She doesn¡¯t run at me though, but stays a ways away making noises. ¡°So that is Pesos,¡± Charles said, looking over at her. ¡°She was your brother¡¯s dog, right?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± I say with a sigh. ¡°Everytime I dispatch her she comes back a day later with a higher level. I can¡¯t get rid of her. When Jones killed her last time her level reset, so I think that¡¯s the ticket. As long as somebody else kills her she doesn¡¯t remain much of a threat, but she was a nightmare for me during the two weeks I was here. I knew it was stupidly overpowered, turns out it had this weakness all along.¡± ¡°Pitiful thing.¡± Charles says after looking at it. ¡°Want me to take care of it for you? I can take flare from you.¡± Before I can respond, Pesos starts backing away, crawling into the bushes again and disappearing from view. I stare at where she withdrew. ¡°Damn. That¡¯s a good idea Charles, but she¡¯s not going to be so easy this time it seems. Last time she just came at me. This new behavior is concerning. She¡¯s weak, but still dangerous. At this level she really is just a greyhound, but she doesn¡¯t need food or rest.¡± ¡°We¡¯ll deal with it,¡± Jeffrey says. ¡°We¡¯ll keep a lookout for her. I know it¡¯s hard knowing she¡¯s out there, Greg, but as long as we are careful she won¡¯t be a problem. Come on Keith, hurry up and get a class. We don¡¯t have all day.¡± ¡°This is literally a life changing decision!¡± Keith protested. ¡°I can¡¯t rush this!¡± We found another zombie on our way to the creek but we let Charles take care of it again, gaining some experience. ¡°How is experience gathered?¡± Charles asked as he cleansed the zombie he had shotgunned. ¡°Is it all based upon the last hit on the kill? That¡¯s something exploitable.¡± I shake my head, ¡°We¡¯ll have to find out. It¡¯s not like we get notifications on it. In fact, I¡¯m just calling it experience for my own convenience, the system doesn¡¯t say anything like that. All I know is that the more stuff I killed, the higher my level got. That said, the mage and creatures of the instance had their levels raised as long as the instance was on, so I have no idea how they managed that.¡± ¡°Another thing to figure out,¡± Keith added, rubbing his hands. ¡°From now on I¡¯ll need detailed statistics on everybody''s levels and well as a transcript of your actions so we can figure out how it all ties together. Got it? When we get back, everybody¡¯s going to get a journal.¡± I scowl at the news, but accept it for what it is. Keith needs data to figure this all out, so data is what he is going to get. ¡°Alright, I got it!¡± Keith says excitedly when we reached the creek. I stare at the green sludge gloomily. ¡°I¡¯m going to choke it to death!¡± I give Keith a double take and he laughs, ¡°just kidding! I want to test out the theory that the state of mind can have an impact on the class we get. I¡¯m going to do what Private Jones did, but try for a different class.¡± I bait a wynot out of the water and Charles and Keith are properly horrified by the grotesque creature as it screeched in pain when I crippled it. Only at the small costs of some acid eating away at the skin on my hand. I hate these buggers. ¡°You ate these for two weeks?¡± Keith asked disbelievingly, his earlier courage gone. He stayed away from the wynot writhing on the ground, its feelers grasping onto my arm and burning the skin where it touched. I flared and healed my arm, making the wynot let go with a loud screech. ¡°You ready or not?¡± Unwillingly, Keith stepped forward at Duncan¡¯s gentle shove. ¡°Remember to have the correct mental image, Doctor.¡± Duncan added teasingly, ¡°We wouldn¡¯t want you to get the ¡°trembling legs¡± class.¡± ¡°F*** you,¡± Keith replied, ¡°I got this.¡± I roll my eyes and hand over my spear to Keith. I hear him muttering to himself over and over again, ¡°technical prowess, technical prowess, technical prowess,¡± as he holds the spear ungainly with both hands. I don¡¯t have much faith in Keith¡¯s idea, and feel my evil genie theory is more accurate. Still, I flare him and the spear up. After a moment of hesitation Keith shoves the spear downward. ... And misses, striking the dirt next to it and sinking the spear tip into the soil a good six inches. I hear Corporal Duncan snickering behind us, but nobody comments as Keith pulls the spear back out of the ground. ¡°Damn, this thing is heavy.¡± ¡°Just try again,¡± I say as soothingly as I can, keeping the flare up. ¡°There is no rush.¡± ¡°Shut up.¡± Keith says, eyeing the screaming wynot. ¡°I¡¯m not embarrassed.¡± I hear Duncan snicker again. Keith takes a few breaths, and I hear him muttering his mantra again. ... ¡°Actually, I can¡¯t keep this up all day.¡± I say after half a minute. Keith doesn¡¯t reply, but keeps trying to build his mental image. ¡°Pesos is back, Greg.¡± I hear Jeffrey state. I look out and see her, standing a ways away on the other side of the creek, barely noticeable in the shadows of a fallen tree she was hiding in. ¡°Let me take flare.¡± Charles says, stepping up to me. ¡°I¡¯ll make sure she stays back.¡± I nod and let him come up and switch out his skill. ¡°Hurry it up, Doctor,¡± I hear Jeffrey growl as the rest of us keep an eye on Pesos. The dog doesn¡¯t make any noise this time, but walks up, directly to the other side of the creek, keeping her black eyes pointed at me. It¡¯s a little unnerving and Charles steps in between us. After a second, a shotgun blast rings out from Duncan and Pesos isn¡¯t even phased as the shots pass right through her, like she was a fog. ¡°Well, that answers that question,¡± Charles says dryly, shifting his grip on his own weapon. After staring at me for a few seconds, Pesos moves. Instead of charging across the stream, Pesos lowers her snout down to the ground and begins sniffing like¡­ a dog, shuffling down the stream as she keeps sniffing. ¡°What¡¯s she doing?¡± Charles asks. ¡°She¡¯s looking for something,¡± Jeffrey replies. She stops moving a few paces away and her sniffing intensifies. After a moment she lifts her head up and howls like a wolf. I feel the hair on my neck stand on end at the erie noise and then she comes trotting back and starts sniffing the ground, heading up the other way on the creeks edge. After another ten feet she stops and howls again. ¡°Doctor¡­¡± I say. Pesos just stares at me some more but a second later Keith thrusts forward again, successfully hitting the still screaming wynot, silencing the creature. ¡°I hit it!¡± Keith said happily. I cancel my contact with Keith and turn my full attention to Pesos who has returned to facing us directly across the creek. Her black eyes stare at me balefully. I¡¯ve got a bad feeling about this. ¡°We should head back¡­¡± I say, stepping back from the creek¡¯s edge. Before I can finish, two wynots burst out of the creek in front of us, tangled limbs flailing and grasping in the air. One aims at Keith, still close to the edge after successfully stabbing the crippled wynot, the other at Charles, who was standing between me and Pesos. As always I am amazed at the leaping abilities of the wynots. Pesos takes the opportunity to leap across the creek as well, bypassing Charles who suddenly has a wynot in the face. I can¡¯t help but think of a line as the unexpected situation exploded around us. Clever girl¡­ Instincts take over me and I flare up my arm and bitch slap Pesos so hard her head explodes into shadowy splinters. I then turn my attention to my two beleaguered colleagues, both of whom are struggling with a wynot on the face, like the creatures from Alien. Panic floods me. I move quickly, flareing up the right hand and grasping the wynot on Charles¡¯s head and exploding it with pure golden flames. Charles¡¯s face looks like somebody melted off the skin and bones, leaving only holes for which he can scream out his agony. I give him a quick superficial heal before moving to Keith. Duncan was on him, trying to cut off the wynot but only succeeding in melting her knife. ¡°Out of the way!¡± I shriek and push Duncan to the side and explode the wynot in similar fashion. Behind me, I still hear Charles screaming in agony. Keith is silent. I heal up Keith as fast as possible and am relieved to see that he is still alive, just unconscious Small mercies. ¡°Get him away from the damned creek!¡± I shout out, as Jeffrey was already pulling Charles away. After stabilizing Keith I leave him to Duncan to drag and I rush over to Charles, the man incoherent and still screaming. I push most of my remaining mana into heal and cleanse, alternating to prevent issues and before our eyes and bones reform on the face of the man grows back. Charles screams stop and he shields his newly grown eyes from the dim sun. Moaning and groaning comes from his lips along with a litany of curses. ¡°Is he going to be okay?¡± Jeffrey asks, looking around the landscape suspiciously. ¡°Physically,¡± I reply, getting up and feeling woozy from the mana drain. ¡°Keith¡¯s going to come out better from this as he was unconscious, but Charles was awake the whole time. It''s not pleasant to experience your face being regrown.¡± ¡°You¡¯ve experienced it before?¡± I sit back down, feeling weak. ¡°Several times.¡± Duncan appears in view, hauling the still unconscious Keith away from the creek. ¡°He¡¯ll be fine too,¡± I saw before Jeffrey can ask. ¡°Once I get my mana back up I¡¯ll heal him fully. Like I said, he¡¯ll be better off for it, having been knocked out.¡± Duncan deposited Keith next to me and looked up at Jeffrey. ¡°We messed up.¡± was all she said. ¡°No kidding,¡± Charles croaks next to us. ¡°I almost got eaten alive!¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t think Pesos could coordinate with the creatures here.¡± I say, my mouth dry. ¡°She¡¯s never done that before.¡± ¡°Still, we should have considered the possibility and taken precautions.¡± Duncan said seriously. ¡°We shouldn¡¯t have stayed near the creek.¡± ¡°We got careless,¡± Jeffrey said with a sigh. ¡°It was too easy last time, and we rely on Greg too much. This won¡¯t happen again. It must not happen again.¡± After a moment Charles speaks up, still lying on his back with his arm over his eyes. ¡°I¡¯m never going near that f***ing creek again. I¡¯m all done with the flying spaghetti monsters. Also, I take back any kind words I said about that dog, Pesos. She¡¯s a bitch.¡± I chuckle and sigh. ¡°Unfortunately, she got what she wanted. I ended up killing her again which means she¡¯s going to become stronger. If she can keep orchestrating circumstances she is going to become a bigger threat. We will be lucky if we get out of this without anybody dying. This is an important lesson to take to heart. If we weren¡¯t taking this seriously, now¡¯s the time to do it.¡± We keep seated for another ten minutes. Once my manas back up I move over to Keith and finish the healing on him. Soon, his face is back and unblemished. Both Keith and Charles are half bald now though, so they are going to have to live with that. Keith remains asleep and Duncan and Charles carry him back to the temple. ¡°I wonder what class he ended up getting?¡± I ask aloud, keeping an eye out on the landscape. ¡°Whatever it is,¡± Charles says sourly, ¡°it better be f***ing worth it.¡±