《Grunks and Snargs》 1 (In which the System Improvises) It rained when it should have snowed, the first sign of change. Thick drops fell like bullets from an angry cloud. The missiles cut through snowflakes below them, falling faster and harder. The temperature rose to 80 degrees, despite winter and a harsh January. The night was at once muggy. The storm hammered on the houses surrounding the cul-de-sac. A wind rose due east, lashing the rain sideways against windows. The trees shook their branches with frenzy, as if alive and afraid. The moon turned its crescent smile on an axis to grin at the carnage below. Similar phenomena played out in discreet places across the world. The System watched, its thoughts mechanical and terse. Begin Integration. Integration at 1 percent Parameters set It was 9 pm. The System was a consciousness, a thoughtform creeping behind matter and mass. It had experimented for ages now in pocket worlds - closed off, artificial realities of its own design. Bubbles of material and energy floating in the depths of space. And in each spun a tiny, malleable facsimile of earth. Some constructed earths were utopias of living light and eternal, long eared creatures. Others were hellscapes, ruined lands of necrotic survival and abstract nature. The System had deemed each Instance a failure and tore them down. But with each apocalypse the System perfected its theme. The perfect plan to rebuild the real world. The System did not wish to chain the world to its will. It had done so many times in its pocket realities. Instead, the goal was to break the world from its established rules. And so, the System needed its own laws, a gamification and quantification of reality. A set of principles that allowed the System''s chosen heroes to overcome logic and limit. But not so esoteric that the System collapsed in on itself. At last, the consciousness had that blueprint. First, the System had to undo the nations, countries, cities and roadways. Ten thousand years of history, meaningless and revolting to the System''s hungry eyes. It would toss them away with uncaring glee. Even the earth itself fell short of the System''s plans. It was too small, too mundane, too predictable. A replacement landscape germinated beneath the crust, in the liquid rock surrounding earth''s core. It geoengineered and terraformed and rose by the System''s pull. A few stray seismic readings disturbed the most anxious geologists. But the System was subtle. Had so far softened the chaos to come, the planet itself was under its control already. A new layer crawled upward. The highest treetops and mountain peaks came perilously close to the crust, and halted. There was one more matter before the sundering. The System spoke to itself. As it did, its will commenced. Target potential Prodigies and their families Collateral damage acceptable Adjusting¡­ Collateral damage mandatory Activate Quest: To New Beginnings Set win condition to (1) hour survival Adjusting¡­ Set win condition to (3) hour(s) survival Send Terminals to potential Prodigies and Activate Set encounters to awaken (3) hour(s) after Integration begins Set Guild Masters to awaken (6) hour(s) after Integration begins Begin tutorial Tutorial. That''s what the System called its final test. A warrior''s trial, a firehouse training. Three hours. Three hours the Prodigies, the System''s potential heroes, had to survive. Abominations slept below ground, dreaming of fresh blood and mayhem, awaiting the call. The Terminals, windows into the System''s thoughts, would explain all this. Error MAJOR INCOMPATIBILITIES DETECTED BETWEEN SYSTEM AND BASE WORLD Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. Continue Integration The snow soon melted from Washington Street, the surviving slush blown away. A single pop, like the passing of a supersonic jet, and the storm stopped. The snow returned, as though a snow globe had tipped over. It soon blanketed the neighborhood again, covering all evidence. No one disturbed by the storm noticed the addition to their street. It manifested in the cover of rain from a place liminal and dark. First, the barbican realized. The old reservoir stretched and looped, forming a mote. A bailey rose behind the mote, and turrets climbed at intervals into the snow. An inner keep flickered into being, caught between solidity and nothingness. Thus, a castle had formed in the barren field behind the cul-de-sac. No builder touched its stones. No materials lay scattered. It went up in silence of its own volition. By 11, the last of its pinnacles had settled, and the snow relented. Someone spotted the phantom spires through the snowfall. Word spread. And the castle¡¯s first visitors ventured from their houses, flashlights and phones in hand. They stumbled in slippers and bathrobes into their backyards and the cold. The bravest crossed the barrier, where cut grass met city-owned brambles, though all was covered in white. Men shivered, shoulder to shoulder beneath the mist-veiled parapets. Back inside, they''d shout to children. Call the police, someone told their wife. Crossed arms and scratched heads couldn''t solve the mystery, and it was very cold. The men went inside, to await the proper authorities. Midnight came and went, and no authorities arrived, though the station''s phones rang. And the mystery of the unanswered phones and the phantom castle was soon forgotten. The drawbridge lowered, half past 12, on the second. A horde of fur-covered creatures scrambled over the plank, like dogs loosed from a kennel. The mass of bipedal monsters climbing the bridge broke its chains and it crashed down. Some creatures went over the edge and into the mote. The majority charged in mass. Two species were present. A smaller form, a bulbous sphere of hair, like a moth ball or dandelion, dominated the ranks. Long, stick-thin limbs poked from the fluff, two legs and arms. The skin was leathery and cracked where it showed. The fingers were six-jointed, ending on black nails. They curled and uncurled in the air as the creatures hobbled. No eyes showed through the fur, either obscured or absent. A round mouth sat agape on every specimen. Slobber and black bile poured between thick, flat teeth. The other goblinoids doubled their stout companions in height. They urged their enormous, pear shaped frames forth with speed. The body tapered, a seamless transition between chest, neck and head. A clay sculpture made animate. A swine''s snout and tusks hung from the balloon heads, flapping in the wind. The skin was stretchy on the face and tight across the rest of the creature. Many carried crude hammers and clubs in long, jointless arms. Few panicked residents noted these details. None appreciated the phenomena above the creatures¡¯ heads. It was stranger than the beasts themselves, if one stopped to consider. "Grunk, lvl 1," read a black text above the little goblins¡¯ heads. And a red bar stretched below this crucial data, encased in glass. "Snarg, lvl 1", went the message crowning the bigger monsters. Their own red bars were much longer than those of their cousins. The fleeing families couldn''t know, but this information was vital to their survival. It told them all they needed to know at a glance about the crude visitors. The change that had come with the rain was now in full force. "Lvl", short for level, signified the creature''s rank, the sum of its deadliness and ability. That was obvious. The crimson bar represented an abstract of the creature''s life force, its vitality. None heeded this data. None realized that these attackers differed little from their own statistics. Of course, no one cared to open their terminals to review these numbers. Families piled into cars and sped away. Some barricaded their doors. All was futile. This convoy erupted from the castle and dispersed along Washington Street. The horde slashed apart and ate anyone caught outdoors. The big Snargs battered through makeshift defenses. Grunks invaded single story ranch styles like a virus, dragging out occupants. The System had claimed its first victims and it laughed in the void. And scenes like this played out across the world. Castles, forts, great cathedrals and entire ancient cities rose from the ground. They pushed through dirt and concrete, through the civilization above. And a new terrain followed. Mountains rose higher than their predecessors. Entire plains and savannas lifted the world and cast it aside. Two stunned observers watched from the safety of a space station, as the world grew two sizes. They commented with wonder that the continents had taken new forms. The oceans had shifted. All powerful but not patient, the System demolished all in its way in an instant. None could resist, because nothing remained after the strange rains came. Military bases fell into new born canyons, their inert stockpiles lost. Governments collapsed in every sense. A few stretches survived, but nothing to worry the System. Only enough to ensure someone would be around to integrate. And to resist the first wave of monsters supplied by their new master. The System had analyzed two dozen Instances in a vacuum. A safe pocket dimension, designed to mirror earth in a simplified fashion. A testing ground for the earth''s initiation, supplied with kidnapped test subjects. And in each Instance, the subjects had adapted to their plight, took up arms and survived the first wave. Why should the System assume the real experiment should be different? But, like many Instance launches before, day one was a disaster. Somewhere in a void beyond the world, the omnipotent witness cringed, weathering disappointment. WARNING. CATASTROPHIC LOSS OF POTENTIAL PRODIGIES Analyzing¡­ Failure of Candidates to understand Terminal System: 89% of users The System screeched into an endless dark, enraged by its own thoughts. Failure of Candidates to locate the Terminal System: 10% of users Integrated Candidates: 1% of users Cancel tutorial stage and survival condition Awaken Guild Masters. Deploy Guild Masters to collect surviving Prodigies Generate Fortresses and NPC¡¯s. Guild Masters are to fall back to safe zones EXTINCTION UNACCEPTABLE And the System¡¯s will commenced. The show had to go on. 2 (In which Celestia scores a Foul) The bamboo swords clashed with a satisfying wooden crack. Celestia Clarke braced behind her shinai, matching her opponent''s resistance. Both competitors had struck with incredible speed, neither finding an opening. The score was 2-0, and Celestia fought for the final point. After a short struggle, the women separated, faceless behind their masks. They faced each other again, sword tips touching. Posture, technique, calling the correct target as one struck - all necessary to score. The students watched the best of their peers fight. The System watched, too, in the eager hours before it enacted its plan. It scanned the surface world for worthy Prodigies, as its architecture churned below. The strong, the fast, the genius. All had their place. A portion of its thought settled upon the dojo, where two warriors fought, uniform in their black clothes and masks. The System didn¡¯t know the game¡¯s rules, its fouls. It didn''t care. It loved all games. Celestia''s attack was fierce, an onslaught. What the System considered perfect anger become strength. But a man stepped between the combatants to separate them. He spoke to the aggressor. The cycle repeated. Swords outstretched, a terrible pause and chaos. Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! The swords tested each other, feeling for a weakness, an opening. Celestia looped under her opponent¡¯s sword and struck upward, gaining precious distance. Each time a strike came, the resulting parry was perfect. Yet neither would allow a strike. Celestia knocked aside her opponent''s sword, and in the same motion struck the woman¡¯s mask. There was no need to keep fighting. Celestia knew she had won. Her fist tightened, a small expression of gratification, but not one unnoticed by Sensei. His eyes met Celestia''s as she removed her mask, realization dawning on her. She''d committed her favorite foul, showboating. Sensei asked Celestia to stay when the others left that morning. She sat, legs folded under her. Neither spoke for a time. ¡°Sensei,¡± said Celestia. ¡°May I speak freely?¡± ¡°Of course,¡± said Sensei, ¡°And I will, too.¡± ¡°I''ve worked SO hard for this. For so long.¡± She balled her fists in her lap, eyes shut tight against tears. ¡°Your skill¡¯s amazing,¡± said Sensei. ¡°But you¡¯re aggressive and arrogant. Have been since you were seven. And still are, twelve years later.¡± "I humiliated myself in front of everyone. I¡¯m done, Sensei. I don¡¯t want to do this anymore.¡± Celestia threatened this a few times a year, usually after similar missteps. ¡°Celestia, there are masters who still make mistakes. But if you need time to find some inner peace before continuing, then do it.¡± "But what will I do if I''m not practicing Kendo?" "I don''t know Celestia. Maybe you should stay." She left him with a bow, vowing to never set foot in the dojo again, though Sensei knew she''d return the next morning. If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. Celestia spent the afternoon lying on the couch, stoned. She couldn''t bring herself to pull a shift in the auto shop with Pops. She smoked and texted her boyfriend and waited for Pops to get home, so they could smoke some more. The three Brussels Griffons kept her company, fighting for space on her chest and pets.
It was midnight. Celestia had failed to locate her Terminal for the past three hours. It had spawned in the trailer¡¯s bathroom atop a pile of damp clothes. The machine, hardly larger than a tablet, toppled the clothing and was buried. It chirped muffled warnings, each unheard. Though it tried moving towards its master, the wet sweatpants and t-shirts anchored it. This was a shame, because finding the Terminal earlier may have saved the Clarke family much turmoil. But, as you¡¯ve seen, the System¡¯s inviolate plans hadn¡¯t gone well so far. While newborn Rangers and Paladins and Spell Masters prepared for the fight of their lives, Celestia Clarke sat cross legged in a soft television glow, losing to her brother at Xbox. Celestia cut a poor image for a Prodigy - scrawny, unkempt, in a day-old wife-beater and torn, baggy jeans. Long, wavy hair fell unwashed and uncombed. Its frazzled ends were still blue from last year''s dye, long since grown out. She was strong, in a stringy, waifish way. A star athlete and formidable student, but dulled by beer and weed. She passed a blunt back and forth between herself and Pops, who reclined on the couch behind the siblings. The Terminal cried, its warnings rising to a scream. A drawbridge crashed down behind Washington Street, echoing in the frigid air. And a soft television glow bathed Celestia and Conrad Clarke, moments before the world¡¯s end. Celestia turned her controller with the go-kart on screen and leaned against her brother. ¡°Ho, no, you are not passing me,¡± she said. Conrad pushed her away. ¡°Dude, why do you lean when you turn? It¡¯s not doing anything.¡± She leaned against him harder, eyes glued to the screen, her fingers tapping buttons madly. ¡°Yeah I do. Helps me drift.¡± ¡°Stooop!¡± Conrad shoved his sister again, knocking the controller from her hands. Her kart slammed into a picket fence on screen. "Uh oh!" said Celestia, eyes wide. "I just saw Conrad cheating?" "Fuck off," said Conrad. "And what''s this? That''s how he''s gotten a lead on his sister? By knocking the controller from her hand? Pops, you hearing this?¡± "No, you don''t know how to play," said Conrad. ¡°You suck.¡± "Guys! Guys," said Celestia. "This is serious. I''m gonna have to, like, punish him." She nodded with menace, gripping Conrad in a headlock. He fought like a madman. "Pops! She''s torturing me!" The dogs snoozed atop Pops as he read the news on his phone. "Like she tortures the dogs? Uh huh." As if summoned, the dogs leaped from Pops¡¯ stomach. They pawed and grunted at the siblings, desperate to join the action. Conrad roused his strength to throw off Celestia and the smallest of the dogs. His face was red. ¡°Whoa, you¡¯re on edge tonight, dude,¡± said Celestia. ¡°Yeah cause my cunt sister is being stupid. As usual.¡± ¡°Eh, been called worse. I¡¯ll kick your ass if you say it again, though.¡± ¡°Get her,¡± Conrad commanded the dogs. ¡°Bite her, mess her up.¡± The television died, its image constricting to a single white dot in the void, then darkness. The ground rippled like a whipped reign, and the trailer shook. Nothing upright remained so. The dogs howled with newfound voices. Pops toppled from the coach with several oaths uttered before impact. A boom resounded and the windows blew out. Celestia leaped to shield Conrad and as many dogs as she could. 3 (In Which Celestia reaches toward Hope) An unnatural wind blew in through the shattered windows, a tornado train roar howling. The trailer rocked on its foundations. The bathroom door popped open, overlapping a klaxon cry with the wind. ¡°Twister!¡± said Celestia, pushing Conrad and the dogs down with her weight. Her hair whipped and stung her face. She hardly made out Pops through the carnage. ¡°Get to the bathroom, come on!¡± said Pops, beginning to reach for a dog. He toppled with the effort, and the Clarkes huddled in a heap, awaiting the end. I¡¯m afraid these events played out in a few seconds. The Grunks and Snargs soon came marching through the storm, making monster hunters of Celestia and Pops in due time. Bullet casings littered the carpet. The trailer was a small armory of .22 rifles, magnum revolvers and one rusted AR-15. The winds had settled to a noteless, mocking whistle. A small thicket and narrow creek separated the trailer park from Washington Street. At first, it shielded the park from the carnage unfolding across the way. But soon the Grunks penetrated this natural barrier, to waylay the trailers. The Snargs were still occupied, tearing down houses, wall by wall. Luckily for the Clarke''s, each collected guns, and these deadly toys lay all around the trailer. Most sat untouched until today, when necessity demanded their use. It had been a scramble to find all the weapons amid heaps of trash and dirty clothes. Celestia and Pops shoved Conrad and the dogs into Conrad''s room and began firing. The trailer park fared better than Washington Street. Better than most of the world at that precise moment. Plenty of guns poked out from windows and cracked doors and pummeled the attackers. The Clarkes met the brunt, being closest to the creek. By seven, they''d almost run out of ammo. A dozen bloodied goblins lay before the trailer, breathing hard and refusing to die. The red bars above their heads were black, except for a small red sliver toward the end. No one knew what to make of those. And it didn''t matter, at present. A lull came, at last. Pops lowered his .22. "Holy shit." And, turning to his daughter beside him. "We gotta get more ammo. C''mon, help me look." Celestia had drawn streaks under her eyes with black Sharpie. She held her arms wide, a magnum in her hand. "We already used everything on the coffee table and raided all the drawers." "Well, did you check your room? Did you check Conrad''s room?" "Yeah, and yeah." "Shit. What about the kitchen?" "Pops. There¡¯s no bullets in the kitchen.¡± "I dunno, maybe some ended up in there. Jeesh!" Pops'' attention shot to the draped window again, and he climbed back into the couch, standing on his knees. "What was that?" Celestia threw up her arms. The dogs exploded from Conrad''s room, followed close by Conrad. "Hey! Get back in here!" The little dogs were ecstatic from the noise and chaos, circling at Celestia''s feet. Conrad scooped up two of them, who yelped and squirmed in terror. ¡°God dammit, I need the Winchester!¡± said Pops, tossing a revolver as it clicked. Celestia plugged her ears to the noise, exhausted. The dogs howled. Conrad tugged at her shirt, Dad overturned tables and threw down shelves in a mad search for ammo. Grunks revived outside, to dust their fur and continue the siege. Several dozen leathery palms slapped the trailer walls outside. The creatures hissed in a garbled little language. They lacked the strength to tear down the walls, the height to crawl through the windows. Eventually they¡¯d figure out the doors. Celestia stood, grabbed the smallest dog and headed toward the bedrooms, her brother in tow. "Celestia Clarke, get back here!¡± said Pops. ¡±Help me!¡± Celestia tossed the dog into the bedroom and shoved Conrad in after. ¡°Where the fuck are you going?¡± he said. To make a suicide run for the Winchester, Celestia thought. All the way across the trailer park, in the van. She didn''t tell her little brother she¡¯d decided to end it that way. Maybe she¡¯d even reach the van before the Grunks tore her apart. Of course, no one else had reached their cars outside. "Keep the dogs in there, dude," she said, sticking a finger past him. "I AM," said Conrad. Celestia slammed her flimsy bedroom door. She took a portable soundbar from her unmade bed and blasted music at the highest volume. Something loud and thrashing. Fuck it, she thought, and searched through piles of dirty clothes. If she was dying today, she''d go on her own terms. Have some fun with it. And just when shit was going good, she thought. A year had passed since the Clarke''s opened a small coffee stand in the trailer park. Business was slow and arguments frequent between the owners. Those being Celestia and Pops. But at last they''d begun turning a profit. Not to mention, a steady boyfriend awaited Celestia only a text away. One with a dirt bike, no major felonies and a part time job. Grandma Willa had beaten cancer last year. And Celestia had scraped through Junior year, despite dropping out for several months to work. College, marriage, kids, or whatever fate looked like. All were ethereal to a kid who assumed she''d never make it to 20. She was content, or close to it, for the first time in her life. Now, she swallowed down that hope. The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Her body jolted to the music as she kicked clothes and garbage into the air. She pulled on several pairs of leggings confiscated from the mess. Her thickest jeans stretched over these. Three grungy tank tops, two hoodies and a pleather jacket she manhandled on. A makeshift suit of armor, uncomfortable and hot. The screaming continued outside, drowned by the music. Celestia tried cranking the soundbar louder, but found it at max volume. Undeterred, she downed three Red Bulls in succession from the mini fridge. Fingerless gloves completed the uniform, unworn since sophomore year. Her thoughts went to the red bars, the lettering above the monsters outside. Amidst all the madness, something in that detail tugged at her. Made her uneasy. The feeling you get when talking to a secret love. Or standing at the edge of a steep drop. Almost dizzying. Celestia was like Pops, accepting things as they came without deeper analysis. The Clarkes were too used to scrounging for rent, fixing broken down cars. To living on the edge, below the poverty line. Anything and everything to scrape by. Somehow, the monsters felt little different. Only another disaster in a line of them. Survivors got explanations later, if any. But the bars worried her, the crimson red hue bleeding into her mind. A change had come in her lifetime. Greater than the sudden arrival of unknown species. Worse than a god''s creative wrath. Beyond any fringe conspiracy she and Pops could dream up. No. It was the change the world had awaited since the beginning. Perhaps a nightmare. Perhaps hope for a better life. She didn''t want to die in the final hour and miss it. A gulp forced the surging emotion down. The tears could wait. She wrestled a bat from her overstuffed closet. Swung it a few times. It felt good. She was high on caffeine now. Conrad collided with her in the hallway as she headed for the bathroom. He was shouting something over the music. Celestia patted his head with force, miming the lyrics mockingly. And she slipped into the bathroom, carrying the soundbar with her. It was time to start hacking off her prized hair. "Can''t kill Grunks and Snargs with all that hair in the way," she said to the Celestia in the cracked mirror. Meanwhile, Pops fired the last of the .44 ammo through the front window. The dogs had escaped again and barked with renewed spirit, scrambling on and off the couch. ¡°They''re still coming across the creek!¡± said Pops. ¡°Conrad, goddammit, go get the Winchester.¡± ¡°I told you!¡± said Conrad, ¡°I can¡¯t find it! You left it on the floor and it got buried.¡± ¡°It¡¯s in the bathroom! Up against the wall.¡± ¡°CC¡¯s in the bathroom.¡± ¡°Well, get her out!¡± The bathroom sink was filled with blue-dyed strands. Jagged, uneven bangs hung over an eye. Celestia crammed it all under a beanie. Conrad popped his head into the bathroom. ¡°Hey, is the Winchester in here?¡± ¡°Nooope!¡± said Celestia over the music. ¡°Pops left it in the van. I gotta go get it.¡± ¡°Hey, Pops!¡± said Conrad. ¡°CC says it¡¯s in the stand.¡± ¡°What?¡± came a response from the living room, and several more blasts. Grunks shrieked outside, their voices like shattering glass. Then, Celestia noticed the tablet on the floor. The Clarkes didn¡¯t have a tablet, or even a PC. She reached for it, and the device lifted toward her hand. Celestia staggered back, raising her arms to defend herself. The object flew up and followed her movement. A stray towel skidded on the wet floor, and Celestia tripped into the wall and slid down it. The rectangle drew closer, and the teenager swiped at it, causing it to spin. The rectangle turned on its side, until it sat suspended horizontally a few feet from her eyes. Green text generated on its black screen, as though typed by an unseen hand. Celestia red aloud, readjusting her beanie to better see. Quest Added: To New Beginnings Attention. Death imminent. Please read the following tutorial and prepare for survival. You may soon find yourself besieged by monsters. Why? How? Who cares! It¡¯s time to join the Prodigy System and become a hero! New Objective: Open the Terminal before survival begins Objective: Open the Terminal before survival begins (failed) Took you long enough! Should have opened this thing sooner! Guess you don¡¯t have what it takes, after all. FYI, you can¡¯t kill those things outside with guns, they¡¯ll keep getting up! Tough. Celestia had no frame of reference for the strange screen, or its words. As esoteric as the phenomena around her. But a gut feeling churned inside her, enough to make her dizzy. She¡¯d accepted death seconds ago. Made peace with it as much as a 19 year old can. Now, hope intruded to complicate matters. And hope was the word gnawing at her roller coaster emotions. Tears rolled down her cheeks without her noticing. A wall came down, and a decade of pent up emotion briefly surfaced. ¡°Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait!¡± said Celestia, holding the screen in shaking hands. ¡°I¡¯m here, I am TOTALLY here now. We need help soo so bad, please! I don¡¯t know what¡¯s going on.¡± Do you believe? ¡°Believe? Believe in what?¡± In heroes, in the triumph of good over evil ¡°Yeah?¡± said Celestia, wiping a cuff across her cheeks. ¡°Yeah, I believe, c¡¯mon, man.¡± Believe Fight Fight Fight! ¡°Okay¡­okay¡­¡± she said, voice heavy with emotion. She nodded, drawing nearer the screen. ¡°What do I do? How do I kill the things outside?¡± Join Prodigy System? Y/N Celestia stood at the cusp. The music silenced. The awful pattering hands silenced. Her finger pressed yes. It was the first true decision she¡¯d ever made. And nothing happened. An agonizing nothing. Slowly, reality seeped back in, the snarling, the shouting, the obnoxious beat of her own heart. The trailer began to rock. First a gentle lullabye swaying, then a violent back and forth lurch. A panic attack drew Celestia¡¯s vision to a mindless pin prick. And a kaleidoscope erupted before her. The Terminal¡¯s edges burst, and light escaped, an immense power the screen had contained. No, not only light. It had weight, substance. Celestia extended a hand to hold back the onslaught. It blew off her beanie, as tendrils of light snaked through her hair, under her clothes, and threw her body. Terror turned to awe, and awe to hope. A hope she¡¯d never known. Not the dull maybe¡¯s of the waking world, of minor victories over mundane depressions. The possibility of better tomorrows. And in the ever expanding geyser of light, a shape formed. A tiny rectangle, no greater than a poker card. She reached for this. It seemed to move further from her in the maelstrom. ¡°No!¡± she cried, without knowing why. An ache ran through her, and she was suddenly unbearably weary. Her vision darkened. And the card, hope manifest, fell backwards. Her life drifted backwards in the walls of light. Not coherent images or sounds, but the shape and feel of time. Every height and low of emotion hit her in waves. Broken arms, first kisses, titanic fights with dad, dead dogs, road trips, the smell of bug spray, sun showers against hot skin, burning fever, a cacophony of wet grass, kitten fur, number two pencils and silk comforters, rising! rising! dehumidifiers, broken air conditioners, jolting steering wheels, and Mom, oh god mom, rage and feverish love and the feel of velvet curtains at a funeral. ¡°I - I can¡¯t hold it!¡± she screamed. All of this happened in a second or two. Pops and Conrad threw open the bathroom door. They stood a moment agape, as even the chaos outside seemed tame compared to the psychedelia crashing like waves in the tiny bathroom. Celestia sat in the midst of it, reaching out to something they could hardly see. Pops and Conrad must have sensed the same otherworldly urgency Celestia did, because they fell to their knees beside her. Words formed above them. Error. Subject past activation period Error. Malfunction of Prodigy System. New parameters. Activation period extended. Pops and Conrad grabbed her arm in their hands. Together, the Clarke¡¯s pushed into the light. As Celestia¡¯s hand reached, the card moved faster and faster into an impossible distance. The wind and energy against them was immense, blinding. And when it seemed they might all collapse into the chasm of sound and brilliance, Celetia¡¯s hand grasped something solid. She pulled the card in with both hands, holding it close to her chest. The light retreated into the card. Silence. Welcome to the Prodigy System! 4 (In which a Prodigy is Born) The Clarkes sat in a heap. Even the dogs on their lap were quiet. The soundbar had fallen and turned off. The Terminal had returned, and displayed the same green font as before. A mass of Grunks threw down the trailer door, tumbling over each other through the stopgap. They tore through the trailer, tossing anything in their way aside. The terminal whined. Enemies detected: x2 Snargs (lvl 1) Analyzing¡­ Strike Points: 2/2 Club Attack: 1 Strike Conrad threw his back against the bathroom door, his arms spread wide. The little creatures tossed their weight against the flimsy door, gibbering in a frenzy. Each heave bent the door inward. ¡°CC, do something!¡± said Conrad. ¡°Hold on! I¡¯m trying to swipe through all this crap!¡± said Celestia, Pops crowding her to see the Terminal screen. ¡°CC, what is that?" said Pops. "Did that come from your phone?¡± ¡°I dunno, Pops! Trying to find the part that tells me how to kick these things¡¯ asses.¡± ¡°You¡¯re scrolling too fast. Hang on, I need my glasses. Maybe the military sent it, you know? Some kind of emergency broadcast system we¡¯ve never seen before.¡± "It''s a quest prompt," said Conrad, adjusting himself to hold the door shut with his palms, legs braced behind him. "From a video game?¡± ¡°Connie, shut UP!¡± said Celestia, scrolling madly with a finger. "It''s a stupid game?," said Pops, disgusted. ¡°What¡¯s it saying?¡± said COnrad. ¡°Uh, some stupid fantasy story.¡± And the land of Raglia did rise from the sea in the west, where the Fair Folk called home and frollicked through endless golden fields- ¡°You¡¯re looking for a character creator,¡± said Conrad. ¡°Whoa!¡± said Celestia. x3 Ability Cards (common) added Three cards appeared in her hand. A faint glow and warmth came from them, and they smelled like old books, vanilla and pulp. The cards showed symbols. These Celestia didn''t understand. Below the symbols read a small text. Paltry Heal, Quick Attack, and Wildcard. The cards left her hand and began spinning around her wrist. However she moved her arm, the cards followed. ¡°They are so pretty,¡± said Celestia, awestruck. The Clarke''s couldn''t explain the cards, of course. But the three, and even the dogs, shared a feeling. Something in the smell and feel of the cards was welcoming. Comforting. Pops placed a hand on Celestia''s shoulder, a slight smile breaking on his face. "Look at that," he whispered dreamily. A new text appeared on the Terminal. Quest Added: A Class Act Is this madness or the beginning of sanity? Welcome to the next level! Pick a class and pick carefully - there¡¯s no second chance Objective: Select a class.Reward: Allocation of starting Stats and Skills, Class Card (1), Starter Card (3) ¡°Holy shit, this is it!¡± said Celestia. ¡°Hurry!¡± said Conrad. ¡°Ugh, it should be me with the Terminal.¡± Behind his sister, Conrad pieced together much from very little. Connections and assumptions his dense, uncultured sibling would never make. Already he''d formed a grudge based on these assumptions. Someone, or something, had chosen Celestia and not himself. He recognized the data as soon as he saw it. He hated the world in all its monotony. He was a social pariah where his sister flourished. He was perfect to inherit the world he felt sending shivers down his spine. The world he''d awaited without knowing. Countless nights alone in the dark before a computer screen. Celestia had no such dark ruminations. She smiled. The butterflies beat their wings as the green characters reflected in her eager eyes. Would you like to see a selection of Classes? Y/N If no, enter or declare class If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. But there was no time. A crash resounded as the bathroom door was ripped from its hinges and cast aside. A garrison of furry monsters pulled the Clarkes out by their ankles. Celestia grabbed the bat from the floor, clenching it with desperation. The Clarkes were dragged to the living room, and to the curled feet of two massive Snargs. Bile dripped from the drooping faces, and the long daggers in their hands twitched. A moment of tense silence passed. It seemed the destruction outside had ended. Had all come to roost in the Clarkes¡¯ trailer. Celestia flew to her feet, arms outstretched, as Pops, Conrad and the dogs cowered against the wall behind her. A Snarg quickly awarded her heroism. A club swung faster than eyes could follow, cracking her on the temple. Her head and body turned with the impact. Her jaw went slack and eyes closed, an expression incongruous with the terrible strike. After a moment, she went to her knees. "No!" cried Pops, who instinctively went for his daughter. A Snarg pushed him back against the wall, like a bully on a playground. Pops lunged again, and again the monster shoved him. "You son of a bitch," said Pops, fury mounting. The other Snarg tired of watching and swung his dagger downward. A card dissipated in Celestia''s hand. She acted on instinct, drawn to the card. To the words Quick Attack. Her arm jerked, somehow in and out of her control. The bat crashed against the flat of the dagger, parrying it. Though the impact sent hot pain up her arm. Another card vanished. Paltry Heal. She found the strength to stand. To fight to the death. Thwack! Thwack! The bat cracked against the Snargs. They didn''t falter. The bat began to splinter, and the frenzied creatures flailed against the onslaught. Had they charged, they might have easily taken her. But something held them back, rattled their nerves. They didn''t like the bat. Perhaps they''d never met resistance of any kind. But they soon gathered themselves and struck out. The dagger wielder opened cuts on Celestia''s arms and legs. She bled, and it seemed the blood drained straight from the red bar. Only adrenaline kept her upright and fighting. The bat did nothing against the monsters. The Terminal floated at Celestia''s side, near her hip. WARNING. NON-PRODIGIES CANNOT DEFEAT MONSTERS Choose Class And a long list typed out. She didn''t have time. "Anything!" Error Choose Class "Fighter, Paladin, Bard, CC, come ON!" said Conrad. "A bard, alright!" cried Celestia, agonized by the pain. A Vitality Bar manifested over Celestia, the same as the Snargs and legions of Grunks watching them. Flambard Knight Selected WARNING. LEGACY CLASS DETECTED Generating¡­ Prodigy: Celestia Windy Clarke Human - Level 1 Class Card: Flambard Knight (legacy) Strikes: 3/3 Heroism: 7/10 Savagery: 5/10 Favor: 0/10 Judgement: 0/10 Maleficium: 4/10 Starter Cards: Quiet Flame (ultra rare) - rank 1 Chaos Shield (ultra rare) - rank 1 Hear Heartbeat (ultra rare) ¨C rank 1 Skill Cards (Practical): Musicality (common) - 35 Construction (common) - 25 Cooking (common) - 18 Storytelling (rare) - 80 Leadership (rare) - 85 Piloting (common) - 67 Teaching (uncommon) - 80 Skill Cards (Martial): Fist Weapons - 0 Bladed Weapons - 50 Blunt Weapons - 75 Polearms and Spears - 20 Whips - 0 Shields - 0 Bows, Slings, Crossbow - 0 Thrown Weapons - 20 Class weapon generating. Please Wait WARNING. IMPROVISED WEAPON DETECTED -4 ATTACK PENALTY MAX DAMAGE 2 Suggest using Quiet Flame ¡°Quiet Flame!¡± said Celestia, parroting the machine without thinking. A card dropped from the spinning hand into her palm, and vanished with a spark. A phosphorus glow enveloped the bat. It seeped outward like angry, boiling water from the break in the wood. It hissed, animated and alive. The tendrils of energy bit Celestia''s hands, taking chips from her health. The bat swung, and a BEEP sounded from the Terminal. 25 Attack vs 8 Defense. Guard Break! The bat destroyed a Snarg. It passed cleanly through the creature, swiping aside muscle and bone. Snarg (lvl 1) takes 2 Strikes. Defeat! The top of the Snarg fell onto its bottom, and the whole mass toppled. The bar over its head cracked and shattered, showering steaming blood over the combatants. The Snarg¡¯s ally pressed the attack, stomping over its partner, oblivious. Another whack from Celestia! Wicked light burst from the bat as it snapped in two. But the Snarg caught the bat with its hand as Celestia¡¯s strength gave out. 8 Attack vs 20 Defense. Parry! The Snarg pulled back its sword arm and thrust it forward with mechanical precision. 19 Attack vs 0 Defense. 2 Strikes! A jagged scimitar drove through Celestia¡¯s gut, embedding into the drywall above Conrad''s head. His sister''s blood trickled onto his face, and the Vitality Bar above Celestia cracked. The pain was hot madness. Blinding sharpness, then a spreading ache. She fought eternal sleep, enlivened by pain. Standing, because her family would die without her. Desperate, Celestia rapid-fired her remaining cards. Quiet Flame failed - 3 minute cooldown! Chaos Shield failed - Inadequate Stats! Hear Heartbeat failed - Inadequate Stats! The cards in Celestia¡¯s hand quivered and turned red. Nothing. Her vision went crooked. Nothing. Only the rotten flesh aroma and the snout in her face. Someone grabbed her ankle - Pops or Conrad. She wished to fall over and be done with it. The upturned scimitar tore from her cut, taking flesh and innards with it. Time slowed as she lurched forward, red and blue hair aflame in her eyes. A graceful motion. Not Kendo. Her opponent today didn¡¯t bow. Didn¡¯t employ a single legal move. But he¡¯d won. Time to bow out. The last card found her palm. Wildcard Activated. Randomizing¡­ WARNING. FLAMBARD KNIGHT SPECIAL CARD (HEAVEN¡¯S TEAR) ACTIVATED. EVACUATE AREA A klaxon whine blared from the Terminal. The System spun in its timeless void, childish excitement stretching for eternity. Instance 21''s first Wildcard had triggered. And by the same hand that had selected a forgotten, esoteric class. A vast consciousness turned toward Washington Street. Its eyeless sight fixed on the trailer, awaiting the Wildcard''s impact. Even the Guild Masters halted to watch. Masses of frightened new Prodigies begged at their feet for guidance, protection. Some gathered the courage to look skyward. A color shot through space, as a pillar of light avoided the space station by meters. The astronauts watched as the light parted the hurricane spirals below and hit earth. 5 (In which a Sketchy Van performs Miracles) Collison. The beam struck and annihilation resulted. Not furious, erupting destruction, but the erasure of everything monster and material. The Snarg and several dozen Grunks vaporized as the wall of fire spread outward. Trailers, cars, trees and grass vanished. The Clarkes, and three stunned dogs, fell the distance between the trailer floor and the dirt. A static burning smell lingered, though no flames had ignited. Celestia fell the hardest, as she was standing before impact. The trailer park''s other survivors fared the same. They toppled where they stood or crouched or hid. Many scattered into the trees. Some huddled together as the Clarkes did. The Terminal followed Celestia, hovering over her where she lay face down. It displayed a readout. Quest Added: Run for your Life! Due to unforeseen circumstances, Prodigies are to meet with their nearest Guild Master for further instruction! Objective: Rendezvous with your Guild Master Error: Legacy class detected. Fusion class detected. No compatible Guild. Assigning Martial Guild Quest Added: Martial Law Objective: Learn martial training from your Guild Master So you like to hit things? Don''t wanna fuss with spells and big decisions? Join your local Martial Guild today! Map marker added No one read this, so the Terminal remained suspended. The dogs reached Celestia first, licking at her face and crawling onto her back. Pops stumbled to his feet, shooing away the dogs and dropping again with effort to rouse his daughter. "Goddamn it, where was she stabbed? I don''t see it." "I dunno, she has a million shirts on," said Conrad. "Oh, God, everything''s gone. I need super glue!" "Pops," said Celestia. "Something healing." She pointed, and the Terminal raced to meet her finger. "Huh, this thing?" "Cards. Healing." "Alright, alright, lemme see." A dozen cards displayed on the screen, drawn in crude vector lines. "Okay, here! Paltry Heal. That''s all there is." He tapped a finger on the card. The card appeared in Ccs hand. She used it at one. An opioid warmth washed over her. She struggled onto her back. She was delirious. "Dad. Where''s Conrad and the dogs?" "They''re right here, everyone''s alright. I dunno, something happened, but we''re alright. They hit us with an orbital later or something." "Uh, we might wanna do what the terminal says," said Conrad, reading the prompt. "Would you back off!" Said pops, shoving Conrad. "Jeesh. Give her some space." CC reached for the screen, finding that it now had tangibility. She took the screen in both her hands like a tablet, holding it above her face. Her eyes scanned. "Need me to explain it to you?," said Conrad. "Shut up, dude." Said Celestia. She returned her attention to the screen, struggling to read. "Flambard Knight..."she said, almost a whisper. "Does it mean a flamberg?" It glinted in the night sky. Something tiny and bright. Celestia caught sight of it just peeking around the Terminal''s edge. She eased the machine to the side, to watch the falling star widen. Her eyes narrowed. Instinct moved her head a second before impalement. Celestia scurried on her back as a sword embedded in the dirt. Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! A new cacophony arose from Pops and Conrad. The pups, as usual, investigated first. They ran circles around the sword, barking. Celestia crawled on hands and knees toward the sword, buried almost to its hilt in the hard dirt. "A flame bladed sword..." she said, enamored. She took the hilt and pulled. It was unlike her training swords. Besides the difference in blade, it had a different heft than a shinai or even a live katana. And her experience was with Kendo, not Kenjutsu or any actual sword fighting. Holding the flammard was alien. Conrad''s eyes burned with jealousy. Pops tugged Celestia''s many shirts upward, searching her side for the wound. He found nothing but dying blood. "That''s amazing. The card did that, huh. It sent the sword, too?" "Whoever''s talking to us through this Terminal did," said Celestia. "It''s not who, it''s what," said Conrad. "This is just like a litRPG." "What''s that?" said Pops. "Dunno," said Celestia. "Gimme the sword," said Conrad, holding out his hand. "You don''t know what you''re doing." "They gave it to me," said Celestia. "I have sword training." "It''s a GAME. It''s not about being able to swing a sword." "That makes NO sense." Movement in the tree line cut their argument short. A sea of red bars moving in a disorderly fashion toward them. "I''m driving," said Celestia. "Get the dogs in the van." "Oh no you''re not," said Pops. "There''s no breaks on that thing and she needs to go slow. Get the dogs, come on, help get the dogs in. I''ll drive. You just...swing at anything that gets close." Pops hurled into the driver''s seat, turning on the ancient engine. "C''mon, you bitch. You better start." Conrad made a move for shotgun, but his sister pulled him back by the collar and slipped beside Pops. Two of the Griffons jumped into her lap, and she tossed them over her shoulder toward Conrad. "Buckle up, Bitches," she said. "Okay," said Pops. "We gotta get the hell out of town. You said your thingy there has GPS?" "I guess? It''s really weird, but I think it''s showing us what''s changed. Which is awesome.'' "Uh huh," said Pops, suspicious. "Well, is the road still there?" "Some of it." "Alright. Well...keep your eyes on that thing." "Thought I was holding off the wolves." "And that. You can do it all." As they peeled out of the forsaken trailer park, a mountain peak broke the surface behind them. The mountain rose and widened, chasing their progress as it tore up the land. The dogs yelped , leaping from lap to lap and barking at the intrusion. Celestia pulled the wheel in time to evade an errant rock spire. Pops fought the wheel back into his control, and the rode rose up beneath them. The van careened down a roller coaster of earth, weathering the ripples. The paneling fell from the doors, and the drivetrain squealed, threatening to fall from the frame. "It''s okay, she''ll hold," said Pops, leaning over the steering wheel. "Remember how many of these Fords I''d get at auction? They get up to 150k miles and they''re done. I wouldn''t even buy em for 50 bucks. But she''s holding up. Someone took good care of her. Not us!" "Pops! Not now!" Said Celestia, squeezing a dog tight to her chest. The Terminal beeped. Warning Integration at 70 percent. Expect catastrophic geological failure Again, displayed to a vacant theatre. Pops abandoned all airs of caution and floored the pedal. The engine protested, coughed, and something came loose from the manifold. But the van did offer a small increase of speed. Dungeon ruins rose before them like flowers, pre aged and overgrown. Castle spires broke the land. The Peninsula fell in one piece into a great valley. Majestic rivers and ragged ranges surged. And structures unseen in the normal world stretched across the landscape. Rock tunnels branching the canyon tops, supported by no known laws of physics. Walls of water fell upward, to higher, floating planes of rocks. For a terrifying moment, the world became nonsense, like a child''s drawing. The pink clouds formed a smiling face. The road had taken a life of its own, snaking up from the ground. It dropped steeply where moments ago it was straight. The van careened into town, where the buildings had risen up with the land. Houses, grocery stores, fire departments and hospitals all lifted and slid. The van flew down Main Street at terminal speeds the speedometer couldn''t read. They entered a long straightaway where the town had partially survived. And here the van veered into a snowy curb and was stopped. Pops tested the pedal, but the thick snow had bested the ancient van. The stretch of town teetered side to side as monolithic trees climbed in the distance. And when it seemed their redoubt might topple, the fury halted. A ping from the Terminal rebounded in the silence. Integration at 100 percent Population loss catastrophic Adjusting¡­ Adjusting¡­ Error 257 Prodigies detected Error Adjusting¡­ Residual land shift detected Adjusting¡­ 120 Prodigies detected Error System reset System reset canceled 10,000 Prodigies selected Good job! You survived integration and made Prodigy - are you special or something? Guess all those kendo classes weren''t a waste of cash And again the Terminal displayed information on Celestia''s latest quest. 6 (In which Morning Rises on the New World) Beautiful. A simple word. One that failed to capture the view from the van windows. The Clarkes lifted their heads, and a new world greeted them. Mile wide trees climbed, their canopies above the clouds. The old spruces and pines were shrubs beneath the behemoths, the mountain boulders. The van rested on a precipice, its wheels almost over the edge. Main Street had risen up from the devastation below. Nothing else remained of the town. And higher than even the trees, mountains whose peaks were the uplifted spires of the old world. And over these dizzy monoliths, rivers of water fell upwards to floating islands. "We gotta, we gotta get down. Somehow," Pops finally said. Dried monster blood covered everyone. It was hard to see, but Celestia noticed the gash on Pops'' forehead. "You''re hurt." "It''s fine." "No." "Celestia, stop. Get out. Get out with Conrad and push, c''mon." With some effort, the Clarkes freed the van and drove again. Celestia took the wheel while Pops recovered. The road curved down, where the shops and bars fell down a long dirt incline. The van crawled down the makeshift path, protesting every inch. The wheels threw up dust and pebbles that tapped on the doors and windows. "Remember, only got the handbrake," said Pops, cradling his head in the backseat, the dogs licking blood from his hands. Celestia applied the emergency break generously, not taking her hand from it. "Where are we going?" Said Conrad from the back seat. CC pulled the terminal from her bag, tossing it into his lap. He pulled up the crude vector map. "The marker¡¯s moving. Wait a sec, we''re right on top of it." A shadow overtook them, as a great zeppelin passed overhead. Antique spotlights searched the landscape. A voice bellowed from its wooden bridge. "Attention, Prodigies. Please follow your quest markers to your designated Guild Masters." The message repeated, as if pre-recorded, and someone leaped from the bridge. They fell feet first into the wilderness below. The Zeppelin maneuvered between the trees and was lost to sight. "This is such a nightmare," said Celestia, craning her head out the window. She pressed the horn. "Yo! We''re down here!" Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. "They already passed us," said Pops. "Keep going. Don''t drive us over the edge." "Yup, sure, Pops." As they reached the base of the incline, the Clarkes looked back. Downtown rested upon a tall plateau, its edges arching downward like a volcano. City hall sat tilted, and an avalanche of dirt sent it downward. It remained a building a moment as it turned, and flattened into debris and dust. "There goes that DUI," said Celestia. The ground was flat and even, covered in a patchy, swaying grass, though the wind was low. Massive roots undulated, thicker and longer than redwoods. Such was their size, the van passed under or between them without obstruction. The great trees were barren until a mile or so up, where their canopies began. Their titanic branches did not collide with one another, a kind of crown shyness at work. Slivers of purple-pink sky peaked through. Celestia breathed deep, falling into a lull as she drove. The air was now sweeter and purer than even the old Alaskan air. It was as she imagined the air must have tasted in pre-neolithic times. There was a flower fragrance unknown to her, tart and earthy. It smelled like a color she couldn''t imagine, or that didn''t exist. Was some pollen putting them to sleep? Indeed, Pops and Conrad had each slipped into an uneasy slumber. Celestia hoped it was mere exhaustion. The dogs were still awake, one to a lap, though their eyes were heavy and scared. Celestia parked, easing the car to a stop and sneaking from the driver''s seat, leaving a tired dog in her place. She didn''t close the door but left it an inch ajar, to not wake the others. She took off her boots and all the layers she''d piled on. From the back of the van she pulled out a big surplus army jacket, two sizes too big. She pulled it on, with a t-shirt and some thick jeans. She left her boots for a moment, wanting to feel this new grass with her bare feet. The sensation grounded her to the reality of things. The grass was pillow soft, like silk. A glittering powder came off the blades, and Celestia worried it was like poison ivy. But after a moment there was no pain, and the dust didn''t stick to her skin. If it was a slow acting irritant, she''d cross deal with it when it came. Celestia walked a way, not so far as to lose sight of the van but long enough to feel alone. It dizzied her to even behold the roots around her, never mind the trees. There was a clear line of sight in all directions, and she doubted anything could sneak up. And she realized that, till now, they''d only circled the same, mile-wide tree for the past half hour. Beyond its roots and the surviving pines, she could see wooden towers in the distance. This was the forest. At last, her adrenaline faltered. Fight or flight no longer held back the emotion. Things felt real, not just facts she could look at in the abstract. She placed a hand on the mountain tree and gasped. All her life, she''d taken care of her family, whether the others realized or not. Pops drifted from job to job, car to car, always just surviving to the next month. Conrad followed Dad''s lead and was aimless, even at 13. The responsibility weighed heavy on her. Now, life and death were in the mix. "Breathe, CC, breathe," she told herself. "Accept it and move on, accept it and move on. C''mon, they need you." The horror receded behind a wall, as it always had. Returning to the van and the driver''s seat, Celestia took the smallest dog into her lap. It was a trauma dog, rescued from an abusive owner. The tiny creature was still nervous a year later, the memory of kicking and yelling lingering. Celestia brushed its wild fur. Animal and girl had bonded over a million pets. They both understood that they were very small things in a very big place. 7 (In which Celestia meets many Critters) It was midday, according to the Terminal. Pops had regained his strength and insisted on driving again, though Celestia held their only map and the van''s gas was near to empty. The Towering Forest, read the Terminal when asked, expanded in all directions for countless miles. The ocean must have been gone, because, heading southward as they were, the Clark''s should have found the coast hours ago. The effect was disorienting, and the Tower Trees added to the uncanny dimensions of the strange wood. Miles of natural forest separated the two Tower Trees visible to them, and the Terminal implied there stood more beyond view. The sky was gone, replaced by a dark and green ceiling. Yet even this panorama could not block sight of a true monster that had come up from the earth in the north. Mt Denali, once Alaska and North America''s tallest mountain now served as a peak to a greater mass, which Pops estimated to be a city''s width and a dozen miles high. The Clarkes were unspoken in their gratitude that the Quest Marker did not point them toward that grim structure which the Terminal called only Mt Nightmare. Some fortune was on the Clarkes'' side. The cataclysm that had been the rising of Folly had sent legions of Monsters into the chasms that split the land. Their replacements had yet to crawl up from their nests and Blight the land anew. The forest presented an eerie calm that went against its ominous air. It was impossible to accept the depths of the Forest, and many smaller phenomena went unnoticed by the Clarkes as the van inched along through the tall grass. Some very small changes, such as an energy that had seeped into the dirt, a vital force that all plants now drew from. The Tower Trees themselves gave off a warmth that banished the winter chill, and their vast canopies broke apart the clouds. It might have been a crisp spring afternoon. Strange, topically colored birds darted between the surviving spruces, their songs intelligently musical. Glittering dust fell from their wings as they took flight, their tales were twice as long as their bodies. Squat, furry quadrupeds, not far removed from the family dogs, snuffled about the high grass as if they''d always been there. The dogs barked ferociously at these critters, who fled from the muffled calls. A metal crunch shattered the uneasy peace, and the van stopped with a jolt. Pops had hit something hidden in the grass, and his fury was unmatched. Everyone poured to find the van had run afoul of a steel chest, which had destroyed the bumper. ¡°Dude, no way,¡± said Celestia over Pops¡¯ screaming. ¡°There gonna be treasure in that?¡± ¡°Prolly,¡± said Conrad, who couldn''t stop himself from opening it. A single glowing card sat inside, resting on the smooth metal. Conrad grabbed it with triumph. ¡°Yeah! You know, I''m lucky that wasn''t trapped.¡± ¡°That something we gotta look out for?¡± ¡°Like, every other chest.¡± ¡°Great. Gimme that, twerp.¡± The card read Spin Attack - Fire. A level 1 single use card that hits all enemies in range. An additional fire effect lessens the chance of an enemy''s next hit to land. ¡°That is dope,¡± said Celestia. ¡°This is so gonna save my ass.¡± After tearing the number off and tossing it aside, the Clarkes continued. The gas meter dropped as the tedious, creeping miles piled on.They followed the map marker on Celestia''s terminal, hoping the mysterious Guild Master had some answer for them. Conrad was quiet, reserved, knowing already much the other two didn''t. This was, after all, the outcome he had dreamed of but thought impossible. And he was still young. Childish enough to accept such drastic alterations with an angst and certainty that shielded him. Grooming a dog on his lap, he vowed to interrogate this Guild Master, and discover just why he had been denied. Pops was Pops, too far gone to worry. He''d struggled and bluffed and grifted his way through sixty years. That wouldn''t change now. Maybe this was Heaven or Hell. Maybe the government had done something, or the Russians or China. There was no news to tell him. No YouTube video to explain it. It didn''t matter. But remember, Pops still had a pre-roll then, and he put off from dwelling on his mood when it was smoked and gone. Celestia worried over several issues as she drove, pretending she felt okay. She especially worried about the front right tire, which had fallen off days before. She and Pops had put the axle back together several times now. Every bump agonized her as the van lumbered over it. And while she lacked Conrad''s inherent understanding of the circumstances, Celestia exceeded him in others. Something felt off. More than the chaos and fury and unreality of the past day and night. Something sinister, staged and hidden. A snake in the grass, if you will. Had the Class Card done something to her? Instilled a kind of sixth sense? She held out her arm and the Ability Cards manifested, spinning about her wrist. They were still beautiful. Lavish woodland decorations on their backs, and oil brush art on the front. Even the letters were slanted and pretty. And the soothing vanilla smell. Celestia dispelled the cards and looked now to the Terminal. A black glass screen, perfectly smooth and untarnished. Gunsteel metal covering its sides and body. It repelled an attempt to open or damage it. There were no seams, no screws, nothing moving. Not even a button or speaker. It turned on by will, touch or vocal command. Though turn on was a misnomer. No backlight turned on. The green text only appeared in the void. There was no menu or navigation. The Terminal showed only what was asked of it. An intricate system of yes or no prompts. "Class," said Celestia, balancing the Terminal and a pup on her lap. The Terminal generated text. Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. Player class? Y/N She said yes. Flambard Knight (legacy): a swordsman who strayed too far toward the occult. The Quiet Flame haunts him now, forever wrapping his sword and his heart in invisible fire. His undulating sword betrays the curse upon him, yet also holds the boon granted him. Required stats: Heroism, Brutality, Maleficium "Guild Master." One who has reached mastery of levels. They guide the Prodigies toward this same goal, offering Quests and advice. "Prodigy System." The way by which Strength is measured and Heroes are made. To quantify the unknowable. "Why am I here?" To reach Mastery of Levels and become a Guild Master. "Who did this?" The System quantifies the unknowable. "How much further to my Guild Master?" Analyzing... Approximately three miles. Warning. Now entering hazardous terrain. Warning. Monsters detected in area. Celestia looked up. To say the land was simplifying was not wholly correct. It lost an amount of detail, the crisp luster of the Towering Forest. The ground formed sharp, unnatural edges, and sudden steep planes. It sank everywhere into bubbling swamp filled depressions. And the walls of the depressions were layered, like some quarries. The rock had been cut with precision, as nothing natural formed that way. The effect was disorienting. The trees were also smaller here, cruel, bent trees that bunched close together. A fog rolled between them. Skull lanterns burned at intervals, implying something living dwelled here to light them. But the Clarkes saw no such creatures. A few wild hares and great bullfrogs leaped into the safety of the grass, but these creatures showed no Vitality Bars. Nor did they appear on the Terminal. The big, mean looking birds flying overhead did. Enemies detected: x3 Wraith Vultures (lvl 1) Strikes: 1/1 The carrion flyers folded their wings and dived for the van. Their talons struck the roof as they passed. These were true behemoths, each bigger than a man. Their weight rocked the vehicle. And with each attack, they spread their wings again and climbed for another go. Escape was impossible, the strange swamp''s winding paths too narrow to take at speed. Pops went for the Winchester but found it empty. It fell on Celestia to act." "Welp, use the sword," said Pops. "That''s why we''re here, right?" "Looking that way," said Celestia. She eased open the driver side door but shut it at once as a vulture tore past, flying parallel to the van. Her second attempt took her outside, as Pops and Conrad grabbed the dogs trying to follow her. As an instinct, Celestia held her sword in a familiar stance, two handed and held low and forward. Her head burned, desperate for caffeine. The vultures circled above, just below the crooked canopy, and one dropped suddenly. Its speed terrified Celestia, who turned and ran, carrying her sword by the blade. A vulture crashed down beyond her, and another and the last! The Monsters had abandoned the van to chase her now. The three thrashed at each other a few feet off the ground, realizing they were in competition for a single prey. One broke from the others and struck out. Celestia activated Quiet Flame and swung, but the attack was so mistimed, the Terminal failed to register it. I''d like to tell you Celestia then proved her heroism and lived up to the stat she most exemplified. That she turned then, flammard held aloft, and beat back the wicked birds with a deft strike and a pillar of fire to finish them off. Panic took hold of Celestia. The animals sensed this and capitalized on her weakness. One, two, three they abandoned their bickering to circle around her, wings spread to block her escape. The birds cackled, almost human like, and bit the air, testing their prey. A beak threatened to snap Celestia each time she backed away. And now the birds drew closer, drawing a tighter circle around the Prodigy. Celestia summoned her cards. Quiet Flame had been wasted, and Chaos Shield prompted the same error. The new card, she thought. Spin Attack - Fire. The card burst, and the flammard raised. But enough to pull Celestia''s arms with the force, but with a sort of steering assist tug. The sword, or rather the card, seemed to be guiding her through a motion unfamiliar to her. One she would think useless in practice. But all was changed now, and she moved with the sword, its pull and her training acting together. Now the sword moved with tremendous force and she spun in place like an ice skater. One low swoop that caught two of the birds on fire. 18 Attack vs 12 and 4 Defense! Strike out! Two of the birds writhed, their feathers alight. They tried to fly but their burning wings caught no lift and they died terribly. The last had backed away and was unharmed. It lunged at once, poking it''s head forward. Celestia found blocking a beak with a narrow sword cumbersome, but the numbers were in her favor. 17 Defense vs 16 Attack! Parry! A Kendo strike to make her sensei proud took off the beak, and the animal gave up the attack as the Vitality Bar above it burst. Celestia heaved, doubled over with hands on her thighs. A chirp from the Terminal. Reward: x5 Flame Coat (1) AB Card(s) Flame Coat - (single use) a fire coats the wielder¡¯s weapon, dealing an additional Strike and diminishing the target¡¯s chance to hit ¡°Beautiful,¡± said Celestia, a weak smile. She was about to return to the van, when something enormous lumbered out from the trees. It was a Monster in size only, as it took the form of a brown bear. But no bear had ever grown to that size, nor did any.bear hold the same cold intelligence in its eyes as this specimen. Celestia froze, and Pops and Conrad didn''t dare leave the van and anger the beast. The bear meandered up to her, standing thrice her height. It sniffed her, a deep, gasping noise. Its jaw moved strangely, as if it were trying out the motion for the first time. It began forming crude words. ¡°Troublesome. Know how to talk now but lack the mouth for it. Ate some weird tasting dirt and this happened. After all the shaking. Know what happened?¡± Celestia stood erect, arms straight at her side. ¡°Um. Not really. Just as lost as you?¡± ¡°Too bad. Hoping you knew.¡± ¡°Do¡­all animals talk now?¡± ¡°No idea. None I''ve seen, besides us. Be careful. Lots of creatures I''ve never seen or smelled, and I''ve been around. Well, I''m lost and trying to find my cave. Wish me luck.¡± And the bear went back into the woods, heading the opposite way it came. Celestia gasped, having held her breath since the bear''s appearance. It seemed no one had survived unchanged. And as the Clarkes regrouped and prepared to guide the van through the brooding swampland ahead, ice blue eyes watched their progress through binoculars, a thin, frosted sword cold and bloody at the watcher¡¯s hip.