《Surviving The Myraid Worlds》 Shoe to Drop, Part 1 Dante did not think he would ever get used to places like this. After all, he would never fit in. He could just feel all the judging gazes on him from all the velvet wreathed windows on the street, then probably drawing those curtains and locking the door. A nervous drop of sweat rolled down his face and he fought the urge to hunch. He risked a glance, raking his eyes over the lush green lawns and the immaculate facades of nearly identical houses. Must be the work of an HOA, places like this always had them. Contrary to what his expectations, no eyes met his. It had all been in his head. One of the pillars of a nearby house caught his eye and he squinted at it. Was that ¡­ marble? It was always marble with the rich, no matter how gaudy it looked to everyone else. This place just speaks money, he thought while eyeing what looked to be a brand new Mercedes-Benz. Of a make and model that he did not recognize ¡ª and he had seen a fair few. He reckoned that it was worth easily a hundred grand. He allowed himself to imagine for a moment just how that leather clad steering wheel would feel beneath his fingers, the air breezing through his hair. Bliss. Now, If it was a few years ago I would ¡­ he would what exactly? Even in his prime, he knew better than to target such neighborhoods. This is where real power lay, and you just did not mess with that. At least that fantasy took the edge off. He breathed out a sigh of relief and ¡° ¡ª You lost sonny?¡± Dante jumped and snapped his attention back to the road where a car had pulled to a stop in front of him. This one wasn¡¯t quite the gem that had caught his attention before, but was still a classic antique. Driving it, was an old woman who likely was older than her vehicle by an order of magnitude. She was gazing at him through tortoise shell spectacles in a manner reminiscent of a disapproving librarian. She cleared her throat and said rather pointedly, "It isn''t that long until the curfew hon, shouldn¡¯t you be getting home to your parents?" The old harpy gave him a meaningful look and Dante repressed yet another sigh and pushed down a familiar surge of irritation. He had even worn his best slacks, dress shirt, and cleanest pair of sneakers just to try to avoid this situation. Wasted effort it seemed ¡­ ¡°Thank you for your concern maam¡± he said, not meaning a word of it. ¡°However, I am not underage so the curfew ¡­ ¡± He trailed off as he saw her disbelieving look and resignedly reached for his wallet, flipped it open, and showed her his license. What a nosy old bag, he thought as the old woman leaned out of her window to peer skeptically at the card. Dante wrinkled his nose as he caught a whiff of a strong floral perfume applied way too liberally. ¡°I¡¯ll be darned, so you are 23. You don¡¯t look it.¡± She gave him a sidelong glance. ¡°If that''s the case, then why are you here? I certainly don¡¯t recognize you and I know everyone on the block¡± Of course she does. ¡°I am here to visit my sister. In fact, I am now quite late. Now, If you don¡¯t mind?¡± Dante began walking off, fully intending to leave this fossil behind before feeling something snag his sleeve. A wave of burning anger swept through him and, fighting to keep a snarl off his face, he turned around to see that the women had taken hold of his sleeve with a surprisingly strong grip. He had given black eyes for less. His breath came in short and fast and he almost made that mistake before he caught himself. I am not that man anymore. Something of his struggle must have made its way to his face despite his best efforts as she gently let go of his sleeve. ¡°Look I just want to make sure that you are for the right reasons, if you would just say who you are going to ¡ª ¡± Dante interrupted her, just about out of patience. ¡°The McClellans place, I believe their house number is 1467?¡± The woman blinked rapidly, obviously caught off guard. ¡°Yes, that¡¯s correct. I see that ¡ª ¡± Dante did not hear the last of what she was saying as he had already turned around and started walking away. Checking his phone, he cursed. Half an hour late! She is never going to let me live this down. Now that he was away from that encounter, Dante now felt a pang of regret. He could have handled that situation better. She had been the one to escalate things when she had touched him, but he knew that was no excuse. Now it was just going to be awkward every time he visited this neighborhood. Now he knew for sure that there was someone who disliked him here. He just hoped the old woman did not spread any rumors. It hadn¡¯t helped either that his new Demesnes & Daemons game with Ray had run overtime, as nearly always happened. Really, who could have expected that necromancer had hidden zombies in the swamp water and that baseline zombies were THAT strong. Battle rating one quarter his ass, just six of the bastards had taken down him and half the party before he had excused himself. Dante wouldn¡¯t be surprised if they were still at it. He shook himself out of his reminiscing. He had to be careful as the first time he had visited the house he walked right past and had gotten lost so badly that his sister had to fetch him. If I remember correctly, the house should be around here. Let¡¯s see ¡­ 1463 ¡­ 1465 ¡­ There, 1467! In front of him lay a house much like any other in the neighborhood. It was a rather large house, bordering on a mansion, that was primarily made of white stucco, brick, and marble. It fit in perfectly with the aesthetic of the neighborhood. Personally, Dante thought that spoke to a lack of taste. The grounds in front ¡ª it was much too large to be called a yard ¡ª bore an extensive garden full of blooming flowers, landscaped trees, and even an artificial stream. Even the air smelled better here, laden with that fresh cut lawn smell and blooming flowers. All together, it gave off the sense of a natural oasis that Dante knew for a fact was the result of many thousands of hours of painstaking care. He had seen the gardeners at work. Was it any surprise that he always hesitated there on the threshold? In that moment, he realized that something had changed since his last visit. A sign had been staked into the landscape where it was easily visible from the street. Dante squinted in the twilight to read it. Protected by ¡­ Vantage Security Systems? Seriously? He began the rather long walk to the house entrance and wondered if he should bother informing the McClellans about the massive mistake they¡¯ve made. Honestly it was quite like them to fall for the advertising without doing their research. Even a cursory search would find that they had been under a number of lawsuits concerning just how ineffectual their systems are. Problems that he knew for a fact were never fixed. There were even some criminals that targeted only marks with Vantage Security. They did have effective advertising though. Any further considerations were cut off as he neared the oak and wrought iron door. Well this was it. Dante took a moment to try and straighten his now unruly hair and quickly realized it for the futile effort that it was ¡ª his curls could be so fickle. Not giving himself a chance to overthink, he depressed the doorbell and heard its crystal chimes resonate through the house. Just as he was wondering if he should press it again he heard quick footsteps on the other side and then the sound of the latch opening. Please, please, please let it be Sis and not ¡ª The door swung open to reveal a tall man with a rather severe expression on his face. Him. Reginald McClellan was a broad man with sloped shoulders and a generous gut. His black hair , peppered with white, revealed that he was well into his sixties. He looked every bit the college professor that he was with his casual slacks and a sporty dress shirt with a half done tie. It was likely that he had just arrived home. After all, Dante had planned to arrive at the house just before he was slated to return home simply to avoid such a situationSupport the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. Mr. McClellan eyed him sternly, looking him up and down. His gaze caught on Dante¡¯s right hand, as it always did, and Dante subconsciously covered his two missing fingers. Dante had never quite figured out why this always happened and would probably never know. He certainly was never going to ask the man. Looking up, he nearly missed a flash of something on Mr. McClellan¡¯s face ¡ª was it sympathy? ¡ª before the perpetual frown replaced it. A frown that he leveled straight at Dante. ¡°You are late Mr. Embry.¡± ¡°Sorry Sir, my ¡­¡± Dante hesitated. Likely talking about the encounter with that nosy woman would color Mr. McClellan¡¯s view of him even further. ¡°That is, I missed my first bus. Because I overslept, because of the new job.¡± The frown deepened and Dante winced. Smooth. ¡°Well, not that it seems to matter, Sofia is still getting ready.¡± Mr. McClellan eyes flitted from his sweaty face to his untamed hair, his expression hardening. ¡°She wants to look good for her brother¡¯s big day after all.¡± ¡°Ah I see. That¡¯s a relief.¡± With that, the silence that he had been dreading descended upon the two of them. Is he not even going to invite me in? Dante gazed from the still mostly closed door to the fact that Mr. McClellan was hiding most of his view of the house with his frame. Dante had only ever been inside that house a couple of times, he should not have expected today to be any different. Still, this is so awkward. Dante shifted from side, fighting the urge to peer over the man''s shoulder. Is Sophia seriously not ready? Well I can¡¯t just stand here and stare down her father. C¡¯mon think Dante think, there has to be something that you can talk about with him! He racked his brain for anything that they shared in common and quickly came to the conclusion that he knew nothing about the man. It wasn¡¯t like either of them had the desire to ever make an effort to get to know the other. Still, there must be something. So caught up in his thoughts, Dante nearly missed it when Mr. McClellan was the one who broke the silence. ¡°That job of yours going well?¡± Dante stared at the man for a second. He had never shown any interest in his personal life before. Maybe he was finally getting to him? ¡°Oh yeah! Just started last week. I¡¯ve already been putting in quite a lot of overtime hours. After all, it¡¯s a bit harder for me to type quite as fast as my coworkers.¡± He wiggled all three of his fingers on his disabled hand. If it had worked once today, why not try again? He really needed all the points that he could have with the man and he was not above using all of the cards at his disposal. Mr. McClellan''s gaze zeroed in on his hand, then looked away almost guiltily. ¡°That¡¯s ¡­ ahem ¡­ good. Very good.¡± Dante hid a smile, so even that man could be flustered. Though it certainly was not the most dignified way of doing it. ¡°You were fortunate to get a job like that, given with ¡­ well everything.¡± Mr. McClellan coughed again and maintained his gaze over Dante¡¯s shoulder. ¡°That is to say,¡± he continued, ¡°That you¡¯ve done good, kid. Certainly made your sister proud. Make sure to keep it up.¡± Dante was so stunned that the jab at his past didn¡¯t even register. This was new territory, never before had either Mr. or Ms. McClellan ever showed anything close to approval for him. Though of course he had to add an unspoken ¡®or else¡¯ to the end, he thought and smiled wryly. The silence stretched between them again, though perhaps one not quite as uncomfortable as before he thought. Still ¡­ Where is she? He was so late and yet she wasn¡¯t ready. Though he supposed he should be grateful that he hadn¡¯t had to endure a conversation like this for half an hour or more if he had arrived on time. It wasn¡¯t like the place he was going to take her too was THAT fancy. Almost as if summoned by the thought, he heard the pitter patter of quick footsteps, saw Mr. McClellan make a half turn as a shape darted by him. ¡°Brother!¡± He only had a second to get ready before Sofia tackled him. All the breath left him with an emphatic ¡®oof¡¯. Despite being in her second year of high school, she was already taller than him by a fair few inches and weighed about the same. Not that he would ever mention that fact in her presence. He had learned that lesson a while ago. ¡°Hey Soph¡±, her energy never failed to put a smile on his lips. He reached up to pat her red hair and she immediately scowled, pushing his hand aside. It was then that realized that she had actually grown taller since he had last seen her. Also ¡­ She really looks like mom now. Not that she would remember. He barely did himself these days. ¡°Come on bro, I am not a kid anymore. She drew back from him and reached out her fist and looked at him expectantly. ¡°Let¡¯s do something like this from now on¡± ¡°What a fist bump? No. Come on, it¡¯s not the 2010¡¯s anymore.¡± She continued looking at him expectantly and he sighed. Dante lackadaisically drew back his fist and knocked it against hers. ¡°Boom!¡± Sophia exclaimed and drew her hand while wiggling her fingers and eyebrows. He snorted despite his best efforts and she returned his grin. They were interrupted when Mr. McClellan cleared his throat. ¡°You will be back before eleven, no exceptions. Don¡¯t make me regret this.¡± Mr. McClellan said, staring unblinkingly at Dante, who did his best to meet his gaze without flinching. ¡°Oh my god Dad, he gets it already. Besides, I¡¯ll be there to remind him.¡± Soph walked past him and tugged him back towards the street. ¡°Come onnnn, we don¡¯t have a lot of time left and we don¡¯t want to miss the bus.¡± Sophia pulled him at a brisk pace back the way he came. Dante turned back one more time before they left the sight of the house and found Mr. McClellan was still watching him, who took the opportunity to mouth ¡®I am watching you¡¯ while pointing two fingers at his eyes then back at him. Apparently they still had a long way to go. Dante fell into a quick walk besides Sophie and noticed that his sister had really gone all out. A nice dress, hair down and straightened, and makeup to top it off. It threw him off a bit if he were to be honest with himself. He was much more used to her dressing in stained jeans and a ratty t-shirt. If she hadn¡¯t acted so much like his sister he might not have recognized her at first glance. ¡°What¡¯s all this?¡± he asked, gesturing to his sister in general. ¡°Desmond¡¯s Steakhouse is a pretty nice place but nothing like that.¡± She looked over her shoulder to flash a snarky grin at him. ¡°What? A girl can¡¯t look nice every once in a while? Besides, what if the server is cute or something?¡± She cackled madly at the expression on his face. ¡°Nononono¡± Dante shook his head emphatically. ¡°You are so NOT doing anything like that. Not while I am there!¡± Sophia¡¯s laughing just redoubled and Dante just shook his head and picked up the pace. A good many minutes passed before she spoke again, this time she sounded contrite. ¡°So I hope Dad didn¡¯t ride your ass too hard. He thinks you''re a bad influence on me or something.¡± Damien snorted at that. ¡°Just the usual amount. Although ¡­ I think we might finally be making some progress¡± he said, still not quite believing it. ¡°Wait, really!¡± He looked back and saw that she was beaming at him. A look that he returned in kind. ¡°Yeah it really caught me off guard. We were having the usual awkward standoff when he up and complimented me.¡± Dante hesitated for a second then added belatedly. ¡°I know it¡¯s not much, but baby steps right?¡± Sophia nodded vigorously. ¡°That¡¯s right! I guess we now have two things to celebrate tonight!¡± She stopped suddenly and before pointed to the bus stop ahead of them, an alarmed expression on her face. ¡°Shit bro, that¡¯s our bus.¡± He followed her finger and saw that the bus was indeed already at the stop. Dante grabbed his sister''s hand and broke into a jog. What followed was a madcap dash to the bus, all the while hoping it wouldn¡¯t pull away. They climbed aboard, out of breath and Dante swiped his pass. He said to the driver, who was an older gentleman wearing a ball cap and a grand white mustache, ¡°Thanks for holding up, don¡¯t know what we would have done if we missed this bus.¡± The driver shrugged, ¡°Not like this route is busy at this time anyways,¡± and gestured to the interior. Dante could see what the man meant, they certainly had their pick of seats. The only other passengers were a teenager wearing a hoodie bobbing his head to his own beat near the front of the bus and two uniformed school girls at the back. They elected to sit together between the passengers, and the bus rumbled into motion. It seemed that they had managed to board the bus just in time, as the pitter-patter of rain against the roof soon sounded out as a light rain started. Dante could remember when that would mean a miserable night. It was hard to stay warm on the streets with no roof over your head. All the good spots were always taken and you would likely have to sleep like a half drowned rat. Given how much it rained here, that was a lot of days. ¡°You know sis, if it weren¡¯t for you, I don¡¯t even want to know where I would be now.¡± He yelped as he was poked in the side. He turned and leveled a glare at his sister who wagged a finger at him. ¡°None of that bro. We promised nothing too mushy tonight. We are just here to celebrate you getting your new job.¡± Dante massaged his side, he always hated when she did that. ¡°Yeah I know, but don¡¯t act like this wouldn¡¯t be possible without you helping out. You¡¯ve always been there for me Soph, never lost faith no matter how bad things got. Kept me sane.¡± His voice was trembling and he had to pause to dab at the wetness at the corner of his eyes. ¡°This whole thing ¡­ I just want to let you know how much you mean to me¡±. Sophia huffed, looking away. ¡°C¡¯mon Dante, you¡¯re embarrassing me.¡± She was rolling her eyes at him like only a teenage girl could, though he could spot a small smile despite her nonchalant act. ¡°I know, I know.¡± he laughed, ¡°Mushy stuff over now.¡± He poked back at her, eliciting a squeal and said: ¡°The real question is what you are going to order tonight! Don¡¯t hold back now, this is as much your celebration as it is mine. Also I got my first paycheck now and man is it waaay more cash then I¡¯ve had, so don¡¯t worry about price or anything.¡± Soph started to respond, but then her gaze fixated on something behind him and her expression transformed into one of abject horror. Dante looked over his shoulder, and had just enough time to see that grill of an 18 wheeler mere feet away. In that one eternal moment, he locked eyes with the sallow eyes of the driver. The man had a six o '' clock shadow and dark bags under his eyes. There was a cigarette dangling from his lips and he appeared to slumped sideways and was clutching his chest. Then Dante¡¯s world was upturned and became nothing but pain. Shoe to Drop, Part 2 The next Dante came to, he was aware of nothing but that pain for a while. He was laying on his back. He hurt everywhere, though his right side most of all. He had been on a bus, there had been a crash, and right next to him was ¡ª Sophia. Dante¡¯s eyes snapped open to reveal vision that was blurry and tinged red. His head throbbed and he raised an arm to wipe at his face. It came away wet, and he could now see that it was streaked with blood. Past that, lay a bank of windows. The side of the bus he realized. It was framed by a row of seats to his left and right which stretched above him for about 5 feet. The bus must have flipped. He tried to rise but grimaced as there was a spike of pain on the right side of his chest. Something feels broken. He gritted his teeth and pushed past the discomfort, managing to flip onto his side. The movement caused the tinkling of glass and he noted duly that he had been lying on a broken window. There was scraped pavement beneath that. Pain lanced up his back at the movement and he reached a trembling hand to feel it. Sharp nubs met his fingers. Shit, I think some of that glass is in me. He refused to think about that and, not wanting to lose his momentum, climbed to his feet and surveyed the bus interior, desperately searching for his sister. It was nearly unrecognizable. Just a few feet away, where the bus driver had been sitting, there was an amalgamation of twisted metal where bus and truck had become one. The thick, acrid smell of fuel and chemicals burning wafted from that direction. Of the kindly bus driver, there was no sign. It appeared that the entirety of the bus had been bent and twisted around to the point it resembled the letter ¡®J¡¯ more than anything else. Just about every window had shattered and many of the chair rows had been detached and lay strewn across the cabin. It was then that he spotted his sister, bent over one of the loose seats. ¡°Sophia!¡± He yelled and staggered over to her. To his immense relief, she moved at the sound of his voice. She cracked open one eye and her unfocused gaze found his. ¡°Dante! What ¡­ what happened?¡± She shifted and a grimace flashed across her features, then clutched one arm to her chest. ¡°Shit, my arm. I ¡­ think it¡¯s broken.¡± Dante gave the offending arm a once over and saw a quickly growing quilt of blue and black. That ¡­ and there was a definite bend. He sucked in a breath, not quite sure what to do. It was probably not safe here, but he remembered hearing something about not moving someone if they are heavily injured. There was a sudden flare of heat and the burning smell redoubled. Dante looked up to see that the fuzed section had caught fire. An unidentifiable liquid was leaking into the cabin in spurts. On its surface, a fire was catching that was quickly growing into an inferno. Well that answers that question. ¡°Come on sis, we need to get out of here.¡± Dante took a hold of her uninjured arm and gently helped her to stand. Even with her participation, Dante was alarmed that he had to do most of the work and by the end of it she was panting heavily. Dante supported her and they shuffled away from the blaze towards the mid-section of the bus. Dante scanned for an exit. The door at the front was no longer existent. The back window of the bus seemed to be pressed up against something, a building he thought, so that was a no go as well. Which left ¡­ He looked straight up to the series of shattered windows above. Bingo. ¡°Hold on a second, I think see a way out.¡± he said and let go of her so that he could climb up. However, his sister did not relinquish her grip. He looked back to see that she was looking at him with a familiar stubborn expression. ¡°Hold on, we need to go help them¡± Sophia said, iron in her gaze and pointed towards the back. Dante followed her finger to where the two school girls had been sitting. One appeared to be unconscious underneath a detached section of seating and the other was on the ground next to her yelling something into her phone. Then, he turned the other way to where the flames had begun to escape the cabin and were spreading along the ground rapidly. The smart thing to do would be to get him and his sister out of here. Dante did not owe these people anything and he would be damned if anything happened to Soph. Resolving himself, he reached down and grabbed tightly onto her wrist. He hoped that she would be too weak to fight him. ¡°Dante, please.¡± He looked back into her big eyes, so filled with trust and all of the expectations in the world. It was suddenly clear to him at that moment that if he made them leave now something in that gaze would die forever. Dante made his decision. ¡°Go and see if you can find that boy, I¡¯ll go help them.¡± At his words Sophia¡¯s face lit up and his heart ached with how proud she looked in that moment. Dante released his death grip on Sophia¡¯s hand and paused for a moment when she wobbled and grabbed on to a nearby chair. Fortunately she stabilized and began gingerly making her way up the cabin towards the fire. His instincts were screaming at him to go with her, but he forced himself to turn and go to the school girls.If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. On his way, he surveyed the situation. It appeared like the chairs in front of them had sheared themselves free and had pinned one of the girls to her seat. He could see a not insignificant amount of blood dripping from the seat beneath her. Fortunately she appeared to be conscious and was surprisingly rather calm. Her friend on the other hand ¡­ ¡° ¡ª everything is on fire and she¡¯s bleeding all over the place! We need help right now!¡± The girl spoke in a rapid staccato, hardly pausing for breath. ¡°I think the driver¡¯s dead and ¡­ and,¡± she paused as the operator on the end finally seemed to get a word in edgewise. ¡°Our location? Uh ¡­ we are ¡­ uh ¡­ on ¡­ on¡± she looked around wildly, trying to spot any landmarks through rents in the bus. ¡°128th street, near the Smartway¡± Dante said, before gripping the wreckage and giving it an experimental heave with all of his strength. It shifted slightly and the pinned girl let out a little gasp of pain. ¡°Shit¡± he muttered. He had been afraid of that, brute strength had never been his strong suit. He would need something more, like ¡­ leverage. He cast his gaze for anything that could work. There. It was one of the vertical metal poles that passengers could grab onto if all of the seats were full. Fortunately, it was already nearly detached and when he pulled on it with all of his body weight it came free. Dante took it back and kneeled to be on the same level as the pinned girl. ¡°Hi there, what¡¯s your name?¡± The school girl looked at him uncomprehendingly, his casual manner seemingly taking her off guard. She started to say something, coughed, swallowed, and managed to get it out the second time. ¡°It¡¯s ¡­ Emily.¡± He noted that Emily was deathly pale. ¡°Glad to meet you, Emily!¡± he said and placed the pole underneath the bench before looking back at her. ¡°Look, we don¡¯t have much time. I know you are hurting right now, but we have to get you out of here.¡± He laid a hand on the obstructing seating. ¡°I am going to have to move this ok?¡± Emily nodded, and he attempted to smile reassuringly. It didn¡¯t seem to work. ¡°But I am going to need your help, ok? When I say ¡®Go¡¯ I am going to need you to push up.¡± She nodded again and Dante turned to glare at the phone girl, who was still babbling away. ¡°You!¡± he barked at her, causing to jump in surprise before turning a wide eyed gaze back at him. ¡°Give me a hand with this.¡± Her gaze was blank, then comprehension dawned on her face as she saw the improvised lever. She hurried over to take a place on the other side of the pole. ¡°Ready?¡± ¡°Alright, let''s go on push. 3 ¡­ 2 ¡­ 1 ¡­ PUSH!¡± Dante pushed down with all of his weight and the phone girl did the same while Emily pushed upwards feebly. The cabin filled with the sound of groaning metal and the pole flexed to the point that he was afraid that it would bend. However, the chair did not budge. What is it going to take to get his damn thing to move! Dante let go of the pole, took a couple steps back, and then dived into it. He screamed as something tore loose inside of him, but the pole gave with a shriek of tearing metal and the bench shifted off of Emily. A new wave of pain hit him a moment later, causing him to stagger and nearly fall before he caught himself. He watched as phone girl rushed to Emily and hugged her, which seemed like a monumentally bad idea to him but it was over before he could stop it. He noticed that Emily still seemed to have a fragment of the chair in her gut, which he was certain was very not good. Dante tried to rise but was forced to rest against the wall again as dizziness hit him. That maneuver had really taken a lot out of Dante and he found was having difficulty forming coherent thoughts past the pain and the heat. Especially the heat ¡­ Thats right, the fire! He turned and, thankfully, saw Sophie and the teenaged boy with the hoodie ¡ª who seemed relatively unharmed all though a little singed. He was also glad to see that some color had returned to Sophie and that she was looking more stable. Close behind them, lay a thick sheet of flame that was ever approaching closer. Where is all of this coming from? Just what was the truck hauling? Whatever the answer may be, it was clear that they were out of time. Dante pointed at the teenage boy and said, ¡°You, go up first. We need someone to pull up the injured.¡± The boy started, looked like he was going to object, met Dante¡¯s glare, and then began climbing. Once he reached the windows above, he paused to eye the jagged glass shards. He bunched his hoodie up at his hand and began pushing the shards out of the way while the rest of them watched the flames approach. ¡°Now you!¡± he said to phone girl the instant the boy climbed through. ¡°We need you to help pull Emily up!¡± She nodded and made her own way up, thankfully much faster when the boy offered a hand. Now for the hard part. ¡°C¡¯mon Sis, let¡¯s get Emily out of here.¡± They hurried over to where she had been laying and found that she was limp. Fortunately she still appeared to be breathing. Well, that¡¯s going to make this harder. He took one of Emily¡¯s arms and Sophia followed his lead. They dragged her beneath the window, though he was doing most of the work. ¡°I¡¯ll lift her the best I can Sophia, you just make sure that her arms are straight so that they can grab on.¡± Dante waited for a nod before shifting his grip to under her armpits. Then he began to lift. Chest screaming with pain, he strained to get Emily past waist level. His sister helped the best she could, but she only had one arm after all. Then, Dante could feel the heat intensify. He risked a brief glance down and saw that the flames were quite literally licking at their heels. Ice plunged through his veins and he tapped into a reserve of energy he didn¡¯t know that he had and lifted Emily higher with primal roar. Suddenly, the weight disappeared and he looked up to see that the pair above had finally grabbed onto her hands and was pulling her up. There was no time to waste and Dante began climbing after her. He paused midway and extended a hand down to Sophia, which she took. He helped her keep her balance as she climbed up to where he was. The seats that they were standing on groaned ominously as it bore both of their weights. ¡°You first!¡± he shouted over the low roar of the flames. Something of his unwillingness to yield on this matter must have bled through because she complied after only a short glance at his face. As soon the pair helped her through, he went to follow. As he pushed off the chair there was the shriek of tearing metal and its support disappeared from beneath him. Dante flailed about for something, anything that could arrest his fall. Finding nothing, he was engulfed in the torrential flames beneath. The pain was instantaneous and overwhelming and he screamed out. ¡°Brother!¡± Through the surrounding flames, he saw Sophia above being held back, though she was fighting hard. She had tears and snot running down her face and her yells had quickly devolved from anything sensible. He locked eyes with the teenage boy and tried to say, Get her out of here! But there was no air in his lungs. Something of his message seemed to get through as the boy nodded and then pulled Sophia out of sight. Dante tried to crawl through the flames and reach upwards but his muscles refused to listen to him. Instead they contorted then contracted, and he curled into the fetal position as all moisture began to be cooked out of them. It was a small mercy then when there was earth shattering BOOM as something detonated. All pain was replaced with oblivion. But it was not the end. Coming to Terms, Part 1 Awareness returned to him in degrees. First, there was a sensation of drifting. There was no direction to the drifting as far he could tell, as none of his senses remained. By all logic he should not be feeling anything, not that he had the capacity for such complex thoughts in this form. But drift he did for an indeterminate amount of time. Then he stopped. It was not a natural coming to rest, it was more akin to someone grabbing the collar of your shirt while you were sprinting. It was a brutal sensation that interrupted the state of tranquility he had been in for all of his limited memory. It also inspired his first thought since coming here. What am I? He grappled with that question for a while before he was disturbed by the pulling again. Though perhaps it would have been better described as yanking, as each bout of it was quite uncomfortable. He yearned for the soothing stream-like sensation of before. It was then that he became aware of a new sensation. Swiftly approaching, he could detect ¡­ light? No, that wasn¡¯t quite it. Warmth? Closer. Perhaps ¡­ Connection? That was the closest word he had for it, though he felt It was all three of those words and more besides. The most important thing, he realized, was that there was something else on the other end. That was equally aware of him. In fact, there were many things that were aware of him. Many thousands of them. They appeared like a sea of stars to him. Each independent being like an infinitely complex pool of lights. As he drew closer, and then entered, amongst them he now realized that he had an answer to his earlier question. I am Dante. A human being. He had ¡­ died. Memories of his former life flashed through his mind. Watching TV as a toddler, his parents screaming at each other in the background and then a resounding smack. The back seat of a car, his Dad had been driving, the screech of tires, blood everywhere, his Mother crying. His first home after, the one with the peeling wallpaper, his sister''s tiny fist in hand. A prison cell, hard to tell which one exactly, they all looked so alike. That was it huh? he thought, That was my life¡­ It had been a pretty awful life, if he were to be honest to himself. He had done so many things that he now regretted. Dante was not surprised that had ended up in a place like this. The only constant that had made it bearable for a while had been his sister. She had really helped him turn it around at the end, though it looked like it had not been enough. That¡¯s right, Sophia! It felt like a fog across his mind had cleared now. Of the bus crash, the frantic moments spent saving the passengers and his sister, and of his agonizing death in fire. She had been standing pretty close by the bus when the explosion occurred. If the shrapnel flew off in the wrong direction it could have ¡­ no ¡­ he ¡­ could not think that. Soph was fine, she had to be. That boy certainly got her to safety. Though ¡­ he knew that her heart would be broken by the fact that she made them go back into the wreck. She always held herself up to the highest standards ¡ª impossible ones by his measure ¡ª even when she could not possibly change anything. It was one of her greatest flaws. He was sure this would be no different. Something was wrong. For all that those facts should bother him, he felt nothing. Dante felt that he should be more concerned about all that had happened. He remembered every agonizing moment of being burned alive in visceral detail, but he couldn¡¯t even muster anything beyond a faint pang of discomfort. Even that seemed more like a memory of discomfort rather than the true thing. It was more of an intellectual understanding if anything. Perhaps it was a result of not having a body? Still, the thought of his sister ¡­ Dante wasn¡¯t one to pray, but he prayed to anything listening that his sister was alive. If so, he hoped that his sister did not blame herself for making him turn back. It had been his choice, and it had been the right one in retrospect. And that was that. Dante found it disturbingly easy to accept that and move on to different more pressing matters. Afterall, he might have eternity to revisit that issue. Where was he anyway? The afterlife? He had never been much of a believer, always seemed to have something more important going on then pondering such questions, but this scene didn¡¯t match the afterlife of any he had heard of. Though Dante supposed that maybe it was some small, relatively unknown religion that had been right this entire time. He surveyed his surroundings again. If so, then this was probably not their heaven. He noticed something new at the edge of perception and refocused his attention. Was that another light that had just appeared? The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. It certainly was, as he noted it was getting closer in spastic bursts. Much like he had been brought here. Then, yet another one. It was like they were being gathered. Dante began to count them. It wasn¡¯t like there was much else to do here after all. He nearly faltered when one of the lights he had just counted had its connection to him ¡®flare¡¯. It was the only way he could describe it. Somehow, he felt as if this meant that they were taking more notice of him as well. He tried to send a message back by refocusing his attention on it, focusing on something else, then going back to it. After a moment, he felt it do the same. He felt a moment of excitement, at least as close as he could in this state. It was possible to communicate with others! He would just have to ¡­ what exactly? It wasn¡¯t like he knew morse code or anything and even if he did there was no guarantee that his partner would either. It didn¡¯t stop him from sending pulses to his new friend though, who would always respond after a delay. It was something to do after all. Their little game was interrupted when he felt something else approach. Something different. It was impossible not to notice with his new sense as it was ¡­ something more. Something near undefinable. It was like they were candles before the sun. The connection he felt to it was different as well. More ¡­ Alien. It felt impossibly ancient and like there was a gravity around it. It felt like this whatever this Being decided, simply was. Was it a god? Or angel? Something divine? Dante found that he could easily believe it was any of those. Whatever it was, the being settled amongst them all. Dante could feel all attention was riveted on it. Then, tendril¡¯s seemed to unfurl from it. They snaked out towards every presence around it. One was coming for him. A fact that he found was dimly disturbing to him. He willed himself to move, but that did not change anything. He could only wait for it to arrive. When it did, it wasted no time diving for the ¡®core¡¯ of him. If he had a mouth, he would have gasped as he felt it alter something that was integral to him. It was a violating sensation, one that would have been as disturbing to him as burning to death had been if he still had the capacity to feel. As it was, he could only wait until the process was done. Eventually it lessened then stopped entirely, but the tendril remained connected. Not that he cared for the moment, as a ¡­ screen filled his mind.
Name: Dante Embry Race: Human Class: Unclassed Level: 1 Attributes
Alacrity 9 [+] Endurance 13 [+]
Charisma 6 [+] Fortitude 11 [+]
Cognition 13 [+] Perception 8 [+]
Constitution 12 [+] Strength 7 [+]
Dexterity 12 [+] Willpower 14 [+]
Skills
Brawl 2
Deception 1
Lock Picking 4
Logic 4
Menial Labor 3
Sleight of Hand 1
Stealth 2
Abilities
[Selections Available]
Traits
Fickle Fate MAX
Human Tenacity 4
Coming to Terms, Part 2 A character sheet? Of him? At this point why not? Though it did raise the question that perhaps this wasn¡¯t the afterlife after all. At least not one he was meant to stay in. Dante wasn¡¯t unfamiliar with the concept of reincarnation or ¡®Isekai¡¯, as some of his more nerdy friends called it. One of his close friends, Daniel, loved the genre and often raved about it. To get closer to him, Dante had read a couple works so they would have something in common. He could recall more than a few in which character sheets or status like this one were a thing, with not too dissimilar features to this. Dante remembered that a lot of them had been pure wish fulfillment, which really bode well for his future. Though ¡­ his life up to this point had been any indicator, then he wouldn¡¯t bet on it. As if he would get a happy ending ¡ª It was as if lightning struck him as he realized something. In a lot of those stories, the hero would return home after accomplishing whatever task they were summoned to complete. Dante could very well see Soph again, as well as the few friends he had begun reconnecting with. Hell, he would even be happy to see Mr. McClellan again. For most things Dante needed rigorous proof, but for this one jump in logic he would make an exception. He vowed right then that he would complete whatever task he was assigned to accomplish and then return home. Perhaps save a world while he was at it, if he was lucky. Though ¡­ there were a few discrepancies with what had happened so far that poked holes in his theory. For one, there usually would be an explanation for what he was being reincarnated to do by a god or some such. The quite possibly divine being that was still blazing across his perception would count as such a figure, but at the moment they did not seem interested in providing explanations. Perhaps that would come later? He scanned the character sheet again feeling slightly ¡­ unsettled. To think the entirety of his life, who he was, and what he accomplished could all be represented by a single sheet. It was degradingly reductive. Dante now apparently had attributes, of which there seemed to be ten. Some of which he was familiar with from RPGs, games, and web novels. Attributes such as strength, dexterity, constitution, perception, charisma, and willpower were classics in such media. Though Dante wondered just how much he could infer from his previous knowledge. The rest of the stats ¡ª that was endurance, alacrity, resistance, and cognition ¡ª were less conventional. He could hazard a guess what they did for nearly all of them, with the exception being alacrity. Dante wasn¡¯t even quite sure what the word meant, though it brought to mind images of speed. Though he thought that would have been covered by dexterity. Dante also had no idea what exactly each stat would change. It was one thing to know that leveling charisma would likely make him more convincing but it was all together ambiguous what it would actually accomplish. Would it make him more attractive? Or, more frighteningly, would his words become more convincing then they otherwise should? Which would be tantamount to mind control. Damien pictured lords or kings able to change the mind of their subjects with but a few words. Truly dystopian. Assuming that the baseline for these stats was ten, which was an assumption that he felt safe in making given the other stat values, that meant ¡­ he wasn¡¯t that bad with people was he? Dante had friends after all. Not very many of them, but good ones. Though supposed he had never been good with women. He fought the sudden urge to dump points into it. He should wait to distribute any stats or talents until he had a more solid idea of what he wanted to go for. Though it certainly was tempting. Later, he promised himself. At least his cognition and willpower were very good. Actually, given that the most average person would have ten in every stat and that there were ten stats, then the baseline should be around one hundred stat points. He had one hundred and five stat points, which was a little flattering. The pluses next to them reminded him of the few RPG¡¯s he had played, though it was odd that there was nothing to indicate how many he had to distribute. He decided to leave that alone for the moment. Inspecting the skills ¡­ Dante concluded that they certainly reflected his past. He had to admit that he was slightly dissatisfied with that fact. He had no desire for that part of his life to define him so heavily. He was certain that he had gotten the logic skill from his recent computer science degree and resulting job. He could have a worse selection of skills he supposed, he could not deny that things such as [Stealth] or [Brawl] would be helpful in his new life. Dante was also surprised that he had so few skills and that they were so low level. It seemed like acquiring them was probably a time intensive task. Which brought him to the abilities section, which was empty except for a blinking tab that read [selections available]. As soon as he wondered how to use it, another window opened.
Abilities
Place Mark
Recall
Imbue Flower
Grow Epidermis
Command Steel
These options were certainly varied. Who would ever want to grow an epidermis? In fact, there seems to be no guarantee that you could remove the epidermis. Maybe there is a way to get more information? There certainly had been in the stories he had read. There didn¡¯t seem to be a button for this, so he focused on the name. This didn¡¯t seem to have any effect. Perhaps, there is a command? Information? Details? Stats? No response from any of those. He kept trying with every other relevant word that he could think of to similar effect. Was he really meant to select some of these without really knowing what they did? Dante HAD to be missing something. He would have to come back to this later. Moving on, he focused on another thing that had caught his attention, a scroll bar at the side of the list. With another thought more options were revealed. Curious, he kept scrolling down and options kept appearing. After some browsing, he quickly came to the conclusion that there was probably a skill for everything, if you spent enough time looking for it. Fortunately, there were more conventional abilities such as the traditional [Fireball] or the boring [Piercing strike]. Given the near total deprivation of all of Dante¡¯s senses it was hard to keep track of time in this place, but he scrolled down for quite a time and never found the end. In essence, these options are practically infinite. So that''s something at least. The main barrier is simply going to be my patience. And my memory ¡­ That''s enough of that for the moment, there was one last section. The traits section which only had two entries, [Human Tenacity] and [Fickle Fate]. Of the two the second, [Human Tenacity], seemed the easier to parse. Was something that he got purely from being human? He had no idea what it affected either, as tenacity could refer to many things. His character sheet didn¡¯t seem to yield any details. It was probably useless to speculate beyond that. It was the other one that was more interesting to him, [Fickle Fate].Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. So it involved fate, probably his? Does that mean that it had the ability to change the future? And what did it mean for it to be fickle? It sounded unreliable at best. Was it possible for a trait to be bad for him? Also ¡­ Whoever created this ¡­ System ¡­ Has the ability to control fate? Focusing again on the quite possibly divine being amongst them, he could believe it. He couldn¡¯t say he liked it. Dante paused as he realized that something had changed while he had been focused on the menus. The entity was now broadcasting something else to him through the tether, a single number. 9,752. Cryptic. As he continued to watch, it ticked down. 9,741. Well, that''s just concerning. What could the number possibly represent? Was it how much time they had left? It didn¡¯t seem to tick down at a consistent rate, but he also had nothing to compare it too. Maybe it¡¯s a currency of some sort for the skills or stats? That seemed more likely, but he had no way of confirming that unless he purchased them. For a split second, he had the urge to immediately start spending his points but managed to rein it in. Panic would not help here. Which meant that he needed to get to it and come up with a strategy for his new life sooner rather than later. Taking stock, there were very few things he knew for certain. He had been saved from certain death, probably for a purpose. No such thing as a free lunch and all that. It seemed certain that there was going to be ¡­ something after this that would involve the use of a character sheet and likely the associated mechanics that would follow. Likely, his next life would be similar to some of the media he had read on the topic. Though, he was leery about placing too much faith in those tropes. Everything else, it seemed, was up in the air. Such as what exactly his purpose in this other world was going to be. In most of the literature he read, it would be to save the world. Usually from the Demon Lord or some other great evil. Though even this was no guarantee. The status screen certainly wasn¡¯t going to give him any more information. Which brought up another point entirely, the fact that this System seemed to be supremely unhelpful. It explained nothing, which meant that he was forced to make these choice¡¯s blind. This would make mistakes inevitable and Dante had no way of knowing if he could change any of the choices. Why would it ever be designed this way? It truly stumped him. Perhaps, it was a test of some sort? Though the thought of his future life being treated as a test did not sit right with him. His feelings about it didn¡¯t change the possibility however. Likely an unanswerable question for the moment, so Dante decided to put it aside and focus on finding a strategy. Any ¡°build¡±, to use an RPG term, would work best if it followed his natural talents so it was time to consider what he already had. Dante summoned the stat sheet again.
Name: Dante Embry Race: Human Class: Unclassed Level: 1 Attributes
Alacrity 9 [+] Endurance 13 [+]
Charisma 6 [+] Fortitude 11 [+]
Cognition 13 [+] Perception 8 [+]
Constitution 12 [+] Strength 7 [+]
Dexterity 12 [+] Willpower 14 [+]
Skills
Brawl 2
Deception 1
Lock Picking 4
Logic 4
Menial Labor 3
Sleight of Hand 1
Stealth 2
Abilities
[Selections Available]
Traits
Fickle Fate MAX
Human Tenacity 4
If he were being honest with himself, it seemed like his skills really favored more of a cloak and dagger style. It was what he had done in the past after all. As far as he was concerned though, that was not going to work for him. He had promised to Sophia to put all of that behind him, new life or no. Fortunately, it seemed that his attributes told a different story. His high cognition ¡ª which he assumed was analogous to intelligence ¡ª and willpower would seem to favor a caster type build. This resonated with him far more. Also, If he was going to a fantasy world, he was going to use magic. No question about it. He had seen some pretty interesting abilities in that list afterall. Although ¡­ Dante hesitated, remembering an incident that occurred a few years prior. It had been about four years earlier, he had just gotten out of his latest stint in prison and was really trying to get his act together for once. Afterall, as his sister had reminded him, next time they would try him as an adult. He had been playing his first campaign in Demesnes & Daemons and it had been one of the first times he had met Raymond, who had originally been Sophia¡¯s friend. Dante had decided to play a wizard and even back then, he liked to optimize. That is to say that he maxed every stat involved in spell casting at the expense of everything else. Dante had done this despite the many, many warnings that he had been given. It had been a few sessions in and they were in their first dungeon. They had been beaten and battered and had just reached the bosses lair. The villain, a necromancer, had cast a fireball straight into their midst. He had failed his save due to having low dexterity and it had utterly vaporized him. Literally. Near full health to ashes in a moment. The rest of the party had been fine. He still remember staring dumbly at the game board in utter silence before Ray had slapped his back and said, ¡°That¡¯s rough, but no worries. We will get you right back into the fray.¡± Ray had then passed him a new character sheet. Some probably would have stormed out of the room, but for Dante ¡­ the stakes had just risen. From that point onward, he found every encounter to be more engaging as there was actual risk involved. Needless to say, but his new character ¡ª a sorcerer ¡ª had much more constitution. The same core idea applied here, but the stakes were real this time. Dante had already died once and he had no desire for a repeat performance. He was definitely not going to waste his second chance. Coming to Terms, Part 3 Becoming a spell caster meant that he would have to be vulnerable. He would likely have lower health, lower defenses, and his magic would take time and concentration to cast. While he was sure that there were types of magic that were good defensively, he had nowhere near enough information to build towards that. There was a reason that mages were often part of a party after all. There was no guarantee that he would have the space, resources, or talent to be a mage. That was assuming the fiction he was drawing from was accurate ¡­ Besides, he had to take into account the fact that he had absolutely no information about the other side. If he was fortunate, then he was going somewhere peaceful and no one knew he was coming. Then he could have all the time in the world to deal with all of this and make his decisions. Given his experience with the system so far, he was not optimistic about his chances. The disaster scenarios were just too numerous to account for. The one responsible for the summoning could be on the other side and they could have certain ideas about debts. Or perhaps he was about to be transported straight into the den of a monster. He could even be born again, which was really horrifying for another reason entirely. All bets were off really. No matter what the circumstance, he just had to make sure that he survived it. Everything else came later. There was also the fact that he was starting off at level 1. This meant that he was at the absolute bottom of the food chain, so to speak. No matter how strong he was able to make himself, it would be meaningless if he went against something with a higher level. As for a general strategy ¡­ While he would love to create a hyper-focused build with synergies between every ability, it was far too risky. Especially given that the system seemed determined not to give him any information. The opposite strategy, trying to cover every base, was also not going to work. It was spreading himself too thin and was too reactive besides. Sure such a strategy wouldn¡¯t have a weakness, but it would always lose in some way to anything more focused. A balanced strategy would work best, though one weighted towards a theme. And that theme? Survival. Dante would withstand any test for a chance to return home. That would be enough for him. Besides, surviving is what he did. In his experience there was one thing that trumped all others when it came to survival. information. You had to be able to react to a threat to survive it after all. Conversely, noticing and getting the first strike on an enemy could end a battle before it even began. So increasing his perceptive ability would come first. Which reminded him ¡­ Dante focused his attention on the mysterious number again and was surprised. 8,130 It had dropped far faster than he had expected. Well, it was time to test if it related to how many skills or attributes he could take. Steeling himself, Dante placed his intent on the plus next to Perception. +1 to [Perception]. Dante didn¡¯t feel any different after this increase, but then again he didn¡¯t have a body. He quickly focused back on the number and found that it was still the same. The blinking pluses next to his attributes remained as well. It seemed he still had more points to distribute. Well, it¡¯s time to test the other side of that theory as well. When he had been scrolling through the ability list before, one of them had caught his attention early on. He was sure that he would not regret picking it up and that it would serve as a test nicely. [Sharpen Senses] acquired. Once again, there was no change either to the mysterious number or to his perception. After a quick scan through the first couple dozen ability list options, it didn¡¯t seem like any had disappeared. So it seemed like he was mistaken that the number did not represent the points that he could spend. Well, at least it meant that he could search the ability list for as long as he wanted. Well, for up until that number hit zero. If it was indeed a timer. There was a sudden distracting pulse from the edge of consciousness and Dante turned his attention towards it. He was happy to see that it was his friend from before, the one who he had been ¡®communicating¡¯ with before. Dante sent a pulse back, but the response seemed unchanged. After a period of listening, he realized that there was a pattern. It was Morse code, he was fairly sure ¡ª though he didn¡¯t understand it. It went something like: Long, 3 x short, 4 x long, 3 x short, 2 x long, 4 x short, 2 x long, and 4 x short before repeating. Dante wasn¡¯t quite sure how to respond and just sent the same message back. Shortly after, the messages stopped. Perhaps his friend had given up on him. Which was a bit lonely, but he couldn''t blame them. It¡¯s not like the could have an actual dialogue. No two ways about it, Dante was going to have to sit back and search through this ability list for anything that fit his criteria. Given its apparent length, this was going to be an exercise in patience more than anything else. Good thing that he apparently had a sixteen in willpower¡­ ------------------------------------------------------------------ Dante had no idea how much time had passed at this point, but he was certain that he had gone through thousands of these abilities ¡ª perhaps even tens of thousands ¡ª and had not reached the end of the list. He doubted that there was an end. Though many of the abilities were worthless. Who would ever take [Perspire Adhesive] or [Mana to Cheese]? And he couldn''t ever see a use for [Sprout Fingers]. Nothing that would be worth that price anyway. Besides those, he had come to realize that there were, in fact, many many abilities that dealt with magic. They spanned from something as generic as [Basic Pyromancy Affinity] to the awe inspiring [Chronomancy Savant]. There were even supportive abilities such as [Mana Battery], [Enhanced Mana Regen], and [Arcane Sight]. Dante had no idea how useful each of these were, but at least they confirmed that magic was going to be a thing in this new world. Dante was sorely tempted to buy one of them. What good was reincarnating in a magical world without magic of his own? But, he was a complete stranger to how magic worked. For all he knew, all spells required something beyond mana or were prohibitively expensive. That was without considering that he knew nothing of how important something like affinity was compared to mana regeneration. It was an exercise in futility even considering magic for the moment. The remaining abilities seemed ¡­ freakish to say the least. Many seemed to change how the body worked at its fundamental level, things like [Steel Bones] or [Pneumatic Muscle]. These had the advantage that they were the easiest to understand what they did. But on the other hand? Dante imagined viscous talons on his finger tips, thick scales emerging from his skin, extra eyes. All of which were abilities he had found on that list, a mere finger tap away. He shuddered. That would be a sacrifice that he really did not want to make. Could Dante even call himself human after selecting something like that? Though, if he were to be honest with himself, the idea did not disturb him as much as he thought it would. Some of them seemed quite good. It would be easy to build synergies as well as it was quite clear what they would do. Though, he had no idea how the new world would react to such features. Humans were famously intolerant of anything different, even something as small as skin color. Dante had no desire to be a social pariah. So no extra limbs or anything that would be readily apparent at first glance. Some were just so obscure that he didn''t think he could justify picking them without more information. There was no possible justification to pick an ability like [Precognitive Hemetics]. Dante was not even sure where to start with that, though he was certain it had something to do with blood and the future.Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. Though it was impossible for him to feel fatigued, Dante was quite sure he had hit his limit. He had been having to scroll back up the list and reread sections more and more. Continuing beyond this point would only see him forgetting viable options with no guarantee their replacement would be as good. It was time to choose. Now that Dante had upgraded his ability to notice incoming threats with [Sharpen Senses], he now needed a response to said threats. He would be going with a strategy he was familiar with. If you can''t fight a threat, hide from it. Which, in turn, would assist him in ambushing any would-be attackers. Dante would never fight a fair fight if he could help it. With that in mind he selected [Chameleon], then checked the list once again and still found it unchanged. Either I have a lot of selections available or I¡¯ve only picked weak abilities. Either way, it wouldn''t change things. Afterall, something would always go wrong and he would need to be prepared in case he was spotted. Dante¡¯s first instinct was to select something that would protect him, like [Impenetrable Skin]. But, after thinking it over, he instead selected [Split Second Reactions]. Hopefully it would let him identify, react, and dodge threats. By his reckoning, it was better not to be hit at all. Especially when that blow could kill him in a single shot, defensive ability or no. Dante returned his attention to the list and was startled to find that there had been a change this time. The vast majority of the list was now greyed out. He attempted to select the aforementioned [Impenetrable Skin] but was unsuccessful. Guess my luck finally ran out. Which meant that this next ability was likely the final pick. Every ability that he had liked, and even the ones that he had been considering, was now off the table. Which meant it was back to the searching. Great. If only there was an option to ¡ª as soon as Dante formed the thought, the unavailable options disappeared. Well, at least there¡¯s that. If Dante was honest with himself, he wasn¡¯t sure how much list searching he had left in him. Just until the first option that doesn¡¯t sound awful, he promised himself. Then, he got to it. --------------------------------------------------------------- Honestly, some of these would be more harmful than helpful, Dante thought while considering [Partial Self-Detonation]. Without mitigating powers, that one sounded like a good way to get yourself killed. Besides, it sounded extremely painful. Just about every ability at this price point had either been like this, with enormous drawbacks, or something only mildly useful. Currently, his favorite pick was [Mana to water]. At least he wouldn¡¯t have to worry about dehydration with that. While Dante was wrestling with that decision, one other entry caught his eye that gave him pause. [Warding Flesh]. That sounded ¡­ promising? It was the first even vaguely defensive sounding option that he encountered ever since his options became limited. It wasn¡¯t quite clear what exactly it would ward against. Perhaps some form of magic? Dante recalled fantasy stories where wards were used in a magical sense. If it was the same case here, then the ability sounded useful. However it sounded like it might make some change to his flesh, which was certainly not ideal. It was a risk for sure but, for whatever reason, he had a good feeling about this one. Before Dante could second guess himself, he locked it in. What''s the worst that could happen? [Warding Flesh] Acquired. The list abruptly closed and he found himself staring back at the character sheet, now complete with his new abilities and absent the [Selections Available] line. Seems like that''s the end of that. Dante was ¡­ not entirely disappointed. He had gotten a decent number of selections and he was mostly happy with the ones he got. There were a few glaring gaps that he would have liked to cover, like some sort of healing ability if he ever did get injured. Hopefully he would get the chance to fix that later. Though I can partly fix that now, he thought while inspecting the pluses next to his attributes. Fortitude and constitution were a given. In fact, he was tempted to spend however many points he had on just them. Though a few points in endurance would also be good, all of his other stats and abilities would be no good if he was too tired to use them properly. Perhaps a 3 fortitude, 3 constitution, 1 endurance ratio? It would certainly work well enough for this first level up, he just hoped he had enough. Hopefully he wasn¡¯t making a massive mistake here. Bracing himself, Dante put one point into those three attributes. +1 to Fortitude. +1 to Constitution. +1 to Endurance. Seems like I still have more. +2 to Fortitude. +2 to Constitution. Oh I still have more? Well certainly not going to complain about that. Maybe I have more than I thought? +1 to Fortitude. Immediately after placing that last point, the [+] next to his attributes disappear. Shouldn¡¯t have gotten my hopes up ¡­ Immediately after he had that thought a small window popped up over his [Status] which simply read: [60] As he watched it ticked down to 59, then 58. This at least, Dante was sure, was a timer. Likely one that counted down until the beginning of his new life. That ¡­ was not a lot of time to prepare himself. Less so, now that Dante realized that he hadn¡¯t yet thought about what he was going to do when he got there. Not that he had any idea what it was going to be like. All he could do was watch the clock count down and take one more look at his [Status]. 3 ¡­ 2 ¡­ 1 ¡­ Initializing Dimensional shift.
Name: Dante Embry Race: Human Class: Unclassed Level: 1 Attributes
Alacrity 9 Endurance 14
Charisma 6 Fortitude 15
Cognition 13 Perception 8
Constitution 15 Strength 7
Dexterity 12 Willpower 14
Skills
Brawl 2
Deception 1
Lock Picking 4
Logic 4
Menial Labor 3
Sleight of Hand 1
Stealth 2
Abilities
Chameleon 1
Sharpen Senses 1
Split Second Reaction 1
Warding Flesh 1
Traits
Fickle Fate MAX
Human Tenacity 4
Rude Awakening, Part 1 The instant the timer hit zero, Dante was elsewhere. Sensation returned in a burst and he was immediately overwhelmed. After that eternity in the void even a breeze was sandpaper across his skin. There was an instant feeling of vertigo, then he impacted a sucking surface on his stomach. Dante gasped as he felt an immediate bracing cold and his mouth immediately filled with brackish water. The sweet taste of decay followed shortly after and he spit it out. He rose to his hands and knees, still coughing. The next breath was fortunately free of obstruction and all he could do was to greedily gulp down air. He remained like that for a good while, simply trying to bring his shaking body under control. During this time Dante came to a few simple realizations. He was quite naked, wet, and very cold. In fact, he realized that his spastic shaking had been replaced with shivers. Where in the hell have I been sent? Dante cracked open his eyes and observed his surroundings for the first time. He was currently resting at the bottom of a shallow pit which had unnaturally smooth sides, the bottom of which was already filling with dirty water. It was as if a perfect spherical part of the world had been deleted, which very well might have been what happened he realized. Even in the short time since he had come here the sides of the pit had begun to slump inwards in a slow moving tide of mud. Dante looked upwards and realized that it was night. The stars above looked much like the ones back home with the exception that the moon was ¡­ shattered. A fact that was nearly immediately pushed to the back of his mind considering what else lay in that sky. Nearly half of it was taken up by a ¡­ web of sorts, made up of many many blue strands that stretched from horizon to stratosphere. Many of the threads formed smaller geometric formations which were framed by characters that were perfectly readable even from this distance. Furthermore, the formations were constantly shifting and forming new arrays with no pattern that he could discern. Despite it all, no section seemed to interfere with its neighbors. As if there was an order to the chaos. This had to be magic, at a scale that was almost dizzying to comprehend. Each of those strands had to be easily the size of a highway. In total, the construct had to be dozens of miles wide and extended far beyond the limits of his sight. The other side of the sky was no less impressive. Opposite the barrier, it seemed like the sky was bleeding fire. What appeared to be numerous small blazing stars trailing flames arced from somewhere unseen towards the barrier. As one of the stars neared the construct, there was an immediate reaction. The shifting of the barrier grew even more frenzied and the patterns ever more intricate. Spectral threads began to extend out from the barrier and weave together. In a matter of seconds a second, much smaller, barrier appeared to intercept the projectile right before it struck the first. There was an immediate bright flash and Dante was forced to look away, a large after image imprinted in his sight. He looked back just in time to catch the sparkling remains of the smaller barrier dissipating and a rolling sheet of flames spreading across the first. Though it bent at the point of impact, the barrier held. This same scene played out at dozens of locations across the barrier in the next few seconds, all except for one. The fireball struck as the sacrificial shield was still forming, scattering the arcane energies like wisps of fog, and impacted against the main barrier. There was a sound like a million windows shattering and Dante had to slap his hands over his ears. A section of the great barrier shattered and the fireball continued unopposed. Moments later, there was muffled ¡®THWUMP¡¯ and an enormous plume of flames lit the sky. It wasn''t until he saw the fire reach the clouds that Dante realized the true scale of that blast ¡°What the Hell?!¡± Never, even in his wildest dreams, had he imagined that he would be transported to ¡­ what had to be a war zone! If one of those blasts landed anywhere near him, there might not even be ashes left. Dante HAD to get out of there. Dante swallowed nervously, and then forced his uncooperative limbs to stand. He slipped near immediately as the soft mud gave away and fell back onto hands and knees. Resigned, he scrambled at the side of the pit on all fours and dug deeply into the loam. It was a constant struggle against gravity and the softness of the mud didn¡¯t offer solid handholds, but Dante eventually managed to get an arm over the lip of the pit and pull himself over. Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. He immediately flopped onto his back and took deep breaths to calm his racing pulse. The mud seemed to accept him easily enough, but pulling anything from it took everything he had. Dante was sure that, if he wasn¡¯t careful, that it might never let him go. Now that he was out of the pit, Dante was able to get his first good look at his surroundings. The first word that came to mind was desolutation. There was no green here, only the same muddled browns and blacks. It was disorientating to the eye as the landscape seemed to follow no natural patterns. Just many craters of various sizes and the ruins of what appeared to be trenches. This stretched as far as his eye could see, which wasn¡¯t that far, given the sheets of rain that continued to blanket everything. Dante would not be surprised if he had been transported to hell. Now what? He had to go somewhere, this area wasn¡¯t even slightly safe. Just, did he go to the barrier or where the spells were originating? Or perhaps he should take his chances and try to walk through this no man''s land? From an immediate danger perspective, going away from the explosions seemed like the better idea, but he just had no idea if the spell throwers would be friendly towards him. Then again, he had no guarantee that ¡­ Motion in the corner of his eye caught his attention and he looked up to see that a new barrage of spells had begun. Now that he was a little more calm Dante was able to spot that, while certainly the most visible, the fireballs were not the only spells being thrown. There was also what appeared to be a small mountain careening through the air as well as a spear of utter darkness that seemed to absorb all light. Which is just wonderful. One of these spells in particular, a glowing orb that crackled and snapped with large bolts of energy, caught his attention and Dante squinted at it. This one was lower than the others and time seemed to slow as he traced its path. It was coming this way. Dante staggered to his feet and began taking sucking step after sucking step towards the nearest trench. It was agonizingly slow and he was still a few steps away from the trenches edge when he felt every single one of his hairs stand on end. He threw himself into it with everything he had. Mid-air, he was caught by a wave of scorching air which pushed him farther than he expected and straight into the back wall of the trench. He impacted on his side and all breath whooshed out of him as he fell to the bottom. Before he could begin to recover, a wave of glowing light round the corner of the trench to his left and rushed towards him. It looked as if the neon from a sign had leaked out and lightning arced from the glowing tide. All Dante could do before the wave reached him was cover his face and close his eyes. He screamed as his left arm lit up with pain. It was as if a molten rod had been inserted into his arm and Dante convulsed, bending backwards as lightning flowed through his veins. He would have screamed had his jaws not been locked together. The heat was almost a secondary concern, though he swore he could feel his flesh crack. Then it was over and Dante collapsed back to the ground. He opened his eyes and gave himself a once over, fearful at what he might find. His skin was a bright angry red, as if he had suffered the worst sunburn of his life. On his forearm was a large black patch from which blood began to drip. Emanating out from this mark was a strange fractal network of bright red scars that climbed towards his chest, still steaming. He tried to flex the arm and, aside from a jerky shudder, failed. Dante ran a trembling hand over it and felt the carbonized hairs there flake to dust. A quick brush through his hair revealed a bald scalp. He felt like a plucked and roasted chicken, a thought that drew a gasping laugh out of him. His cackles echoed down the trench, utterly incongruous with the constant background of explosions. He couldn¡¯t help himself, this was complete and utter bullshit. He should have died there ¡ª he was surprised he hadn''t. Why had he been rescued from death and imbued with power only to be thrown into a meat grinder? Was whatever had rescued him observing like some kid with a magnifying glass, observing him as he tried to avoid the beam? Whatever the reason, it was clear to him now that he was utterly on his own in a brutal that was currently doing its best to kill him. A not so distant explosion drowned out his humorless laughter and provided a stark reminder of his circumstances. Dante couldn¡¯t stay in this trench forever, no matter how much he wanted to. He staggered to his feet with his wounded arm hanging by his side and took a deep breath. First, he should take stock of himself to see if he had more injuries. Dante began examining his body, looking for any obvious bruising and feeling for any pain. Almost immediately he stopped and raised his right hand with its 5 fingers before his disbelieving eyes. Trembling, he curled them into a fist and reveled in the sensations of his renewed ring and little fingers. It had been a fair few years since he had lost them doing that slaughterhouse job and Dante had almost forgotten what that felt like, though the phantom pain had done its best to remind him. At least the compensation money had been good. A theory occurred to him and he sat down to look at the bottom of his foot. Yep, that scar from when he had accidentally stepped on broken glass was gone. The slight crook in his arm from when he had broken it was also gone. Dante checked every old injury that he could remember and found that they had healed without exception. There was no other conclusion, he had come to this world completely healed. It was hard to describe what he was feeling right now, but at least some of it was gratitude. For the second chance and the miracle cure. On the other hand ¡­ He gazed at his burnt and limp left arm. Complicated indeed.