Wrote this for fun on saturday: Generic System Apocalypse (Patreon)

Ever read a system apocalypse and think to yourself, 'i could write that better,' or, 'why didn't he choose magic, that dumbass?' well, i was reading From the depths like two weeks ago and yelling at the screen. wrote 9.4k for fun on saturday for stress relief, beating my all time high of 8k in a day. yay me.

Here's what I wrote. (I currently have no intention of mass publishing this one, just writing it for fun.) Also i'm not very good at writing a vet, so...if i did it totally wrong, we can change some details.

“Holy shit, Frank, this is like…” Jeb’s head lolled on his neck as he glanced around the room. Behind his eyelids, his veins were moving in geometric shapes, and the air itself seemed to be wrapping him up in a hug.

He felt loved. Like everything was gonna be okay, no matter what.

Jeb was laying on a bed, flanked by a nurse and a psychiatrist. They were doing underground testing on MDMA and its effects on PTSD.

Jeb didn’t mind being a lab rat if it meant he wouldn’t have to feel like the only way to get away from the swirling fear that seemed to stalk him behind his every thought was to eat a bullet.

He told Frank about how it felt, but Frank didn’t say much in response other than smile warmly. The therapist probably hadn’t tried the stuff himself, but he knew how it worked.

“Tell me about the attack.”

“Ah,” Jeb said, the memories washing over him without an ounce of their former bit.

“So I got off duty, played some video games in the rec room with Tyler, then turned in for the night, but I must have drank too much, ‘cuz I had to take a piss in the middle of the night. I got up and went to the head, and then…”

The memory of the explosion, its earth-shaking power, washed over him, completely defanged, the horrible fear unable to penetrate the glowing positive vibes of the drugs. He remembered running back to the dorm, seeing the caved in ceiling…and the drops of blood on the ground.

The human body doesn’t bleed a lot, not when they’re crushed under a ceiling.

Jeb was recounting his experiences in a sort of stream of consciousness word vomit, when his ears began to resound with some other voice.

It was a voice, but also text that seemed to float in front of his eyes.

>>>The System has Been Installed<<<

Earthlings! The gods of Pharos have touched your plane of existence and found it wanting. Your planet will be merged with their own, but you must be found worthy to join.

In a few moments, you will be teleported to your Testing Zones, but first, you must choose the difficulty of your tutorial.

Easy is a good choice for children and parents, Above that level, the rewards are increasingly greater, while the danger rises to match. Be sure before you choose.

>>>EASY

>>>NORMAL

>>>HARD

>>>IMPOSSIBLE

Jeb blinked.

“Ummm…Is this part of the drugs?” Jeb asked, peering between Frank and Alice. He wasn’t sure what was going on

“Umm…” Frank said, glancing at the tablets on the countertop. “I don’t think it is.” the bearded, bespectacled psychiatrist glanced at his somewhat dumpy assistant who monitored Jeb’s vitals.

“I see it too,” She said, frowning before shaking her head. “There’s no way.”

“Jeb, don’t move.” Frank said, standing. “I’m gonna go see what’s going on outside.”

Frank rose to his feet, and reached out to get his glasses from the cabinet.

The psychiatrist burst into glittering light, vanishing from their sight in a matter of seconds.

“What the hell? Frank!?” Alice called, rising to her feet. She rushed over to where Frank had vanished, her eyes wide with panic, reachign out to where the dark-haired man had disappeared. A moment later, she disappeared, too.

“Guys?” Jeb asked, glancing around.

They’re probably fine. Probably.

Hmmm. He looked at the four choices again.

What does this even mean?

>>>EASY

>>>NORMAL

>>>HARD

>>>IMPOSSIBLE

I’m still not sure if this is real or not… Jeb thought, looking over the choices, carefully considering, fighting through the vague haze of the drug, unable to feel any particular apprehension for any of the choices.

Are the rewards for higher difficulties worth it? He thought to himself.

Each Reward for higher difficulty tests is exponentially more valuable than the last, granting the User a greater power to use to survive and thrive in the world of Pharos.

30 Seconds remaining.

29 Seconds remaining.

28 Seconds remaining.

…If I finish the impossible test, will I be able to help people? Jeb thought.

Millions. Billions. More.

13 Seconds remaining.

12 Seconds remaining.

11 Seconds remaining.

Well, Jeb thought, the Ecstasy dimming his anxiety. The math works out in my favor on that, doesn’t it. He was a soldier. It was his goddamn duty to do everything he could. There were thousands more Jebs out there, and if even one of them survived the Impossible difficulty, they could singlehandedly save the world. Or something like that.

It was practically irresponsible of him not to choose impossible.

Man, everything is spinny.

5 Seconds remaining.

4 Seconds remaining.

3 Seconds remaining.

Make the right choice.

2 Seconds remaining.

1 Second remaining.

He tugged his hand out from the warm blanket the shrinks had wrapped him in and poked the >>>IMPOSSIBLE<<< button hovering in front of him.

You have selected Impossible!

Scanning Host.

Host is in an altered state, Attribute Quantification impeded.

Removing toxins….Done

Quantifying Attributes….

Jebediah Trapper

Body 5

Myst 0

Nerve 8

The warm fuzzy safety blanket of the drugs was ripped away from him, and all that was left was the dawning horror of realization. Impossible meant he was guaranteed to fail. In this case, failure might mean death.

“Hey WAIT A MINU-“

Teleporting

Between one blink and the next, The roof above his head vanished, replaced with blue skies as bold and natural as any he’d ever seen.

The air went from musty hotel to natural earth and plant scents in a fraction of a second. The light shifted.

Jeb was sitting up in the middle of a forest, with no idea where he was or how he’d gotten there.

Why the hell did I pick impossible!? Jeb thought, eyes wide as he glanced around the forest.

Welcome to the Impossible tutorial!

Your sacrifice will not be in vain!

You are currently in the Death Wilds of Pharos! In the Crates behind you, you will find supplies to help you complete your trial.

Jeb glanced over his shoulder and spotted three crates behind him. Each of them looked like they were five feet on a side with open tops. Jeb could see metal bits coming out the tops of the crates.

You are currently in a Safe zone. Monsters are unable to enter or attack the Safe Zone. Safe zone will expire in 14 days. Tutorial will be complete when the boss has been defeated. Once the tutorial is complete, you will be teleported back to humanity.

To better prepare you for the Impossible tutorial, you have been awarded with fifteen free Ability points. Use them wisely.

Jeb waited for anything more. Any more words to reverberate through his mind, but all was quiet, and so he clambered to his feet, tossing the pink blanket off of himself.

“Hey, can I change the difficulty? I was making those choices in an altered state.”

No answer.

Worth a shot, Jeb thought, gaze falling on the crates.

Bits of forest poked him through his socks as he made his way to the supplies.

The leftmost crates had weapons of every conceivable kind, with the sole exception of firearms, but if it killed things, and it was powered by muscle, it was on the list.

He even spotted an African throwing axe and an Atlatl complete with a dozen darts halfway between the size of a javelin and an arrow. Needless to say, there were plenty of spears, swords, bows, crossbows, axes and knives.

Is this thing bigger on the inside? Jeb wondered, putting his hand into the box and reachign toward the wall of the crate. His hand came into contact with the wall a good foot further out than the side of the crate should’ve been.

Well, that’s fuckin’ weird an’ magical.

Jeb moved to the next box. It had armor of every description, from police riot gear, to full medieval plate armor, to armored bikinis.

Upon finding an armored bikini in the box, Jeb raised an eyebrow. Finding this here meant a couple things: Whatever aliens had done this shit to him had been trawling through comics and art to figure out what ‘armor’ should look like. It also meant whatever superintelligence had been doing it either wasn’t paying attention to human physiology or didn’t care that fantasy tit-protectors didn’t actually stop arrows.

Or….

Given that he was currently in a fantasy world with fantasy rules, there was a slim chance that metal bikinis were actually as protective as full plate.

God, I hope so.

Although, that opened up an entirely different can of worms that begged the question of intent-based physics, or whether everything was an abstract simulation.

Let’s not overthink it. Jeb thought, tossing the bikini aside. Better safe than sorry on the armor front.

The one thing he’d learned from the few time he’d let his younger brother drag him to the SCA sessions, was that actual armor looked…kinda goofy.

He found what he was looking for: a brigandine, heavy leather plated pants, and a decent shield.

Any soldier had to take weight into account when they were choosing their gear, and this was no different. Jeb set the armor he’d chosen up against a nearby tree as he inspected the next crate.

This one was a gold mine.

MRE’s, water, a shovel, toilet paper, rope, matches, med kit, super glue, salt, even a bottle of morphine and some needles…Goddamn. There was even a G.I. stove that looked like it had been ripped right outta someone’s WWII memorabilia. Just fill with something flammable, pump it a few times, and it’s good to go. No electricity or nothing required.

Well, at least I’m not gonna starve immediately, Jeb thought to himself, idly grabbing the shovel and tossing it beside the armor.

Once he’d pulled out enough gear and assembled a kit, he went back to the weapon bin.

What’s the smart choice here? He thought, scanning through the choices.

Crossbow with a sword and board seemed like the go-to answer.

Over the next half an hour, Jeb put on the armor, made a rope sheath for his sword, tied the first aid kit onto his back, made a shoulder strap for the crossbow and harness for the bolts. Then he used the matches to start a fire.

Before he left, he tossed a couple armloads of green wood overtop the merrily burning fire.

For the next hour or so, he would have a nice smoke signal to orient himself on. It would be the stupidest thing he could imagine to get lost in the forest outside his safe zone and get murdered.

Assuming they were telling the truth about the safe zone.

There was an added benefit: if there were any humans in the woods, they would be attracted to the smoke. Together they would have a better shot of killing this ‘boss’.

Alright, Jeb thought, blinking. Is there anything I’m missing?

You have been Awarded with Fifteen Free Ability Points. Use them wisely. Jeb recalled the voice telling him that.

Ah yes. Is it like a game mechanic? How do I spend them?

“Character sheet?”

“Spend points?”

“Upgrade!”

“How I shoots web!?”

“Ability points?”

Ability Points are received as a reward for outstanding achievements, gaining levels, and certain consumables. They apply to a wide range of the User’s physical and magical traits, boosting their average performance, measured by the user’s Abilities.

The available traits are:

Body

Myst

Nerve

Applying points to one of these traits will raise the average performance of hundreds of associated traits.

Body will raise a User’s strength, toughness, healing speed, resistance to poisons and so on.

Myst will boost the User’s connection to the Myst, Affecting the Draw Rate, Range, Storage and Output Capacity of Myst, as well as sensitivity to its presence, and so on.

Nerve raises the signal clarity, speed and refractory period, etc, of the User’s nerve cells. This is associated with increased intelligence, reaction time, hand-eye coordination, emotional intelligence and mental stability, and so on.

To apply Earned Ability Points, Say or think, ‘Status’, then manually select where to spend your Ability Points. When you have achieved your Class at level 20, you may switch from manual to mental Ability point distribution, although it is not recommended.

Whoah.

Status.

Jebediah Trapper

Body 5 +

Myst 0 +

Nerve 8 +

Hmmm… what the hell is Myst, and why don’t I have any of it?

If Jeb’s well-maintained post-military body was a five, then dropping the extra fifteen points into Body would make him like…The Rock on steroids?

Who am I kidding, The Rock probably does steroids.

Jeb didn’t see the justification for having an 8 on Nerve. Maybe it had been the Ecstasy talkin’.

It was a fun idea to dump it all into Nerve and suddenly become some kind of Brainiac who could solve all his problems with relative ease.

Work smarter, not harder. A quote his dad had quoted religiously to his eldest son.

The smart choice, though was probably to put four or five points into Nerve, to get him up to hawkings levels of cognitive function, then dump the rest into his Body. He would be smarter, with the physical power to act out his plans.

The only thing scarier than a big angry slab of beef is knowing that you are also staggeringly mentally inferior to aforementioned slab of beef.

Jeb tapped his fingers on his elbow, looking at the choices.

Myst kept calling him back.

He had no idea what it was.

He had no idea how to use it.

But given the circumstances… Magical teleportation to a magical forest by magical means with magical crates and magical status windows.

I think you would think what I think.

Yeah, Myst is definitely magic, or magic-adjacent.

Jeb, an average human, having zero aptitude for something he’d never even heard of…it stood to reason.

What if I had fifteen?

This tutorial is labelled as impossible. A Kobayashi Maru. Will simply being smarter and stronger get me a win against impossible odds?

How did Kirk win the Kobayashi Maru?

‘Change the circumstances of the test.’ Another one of his dad’s mantras.

Jeb thought back to his drug-addled brain that had decided to do the impossible test, and further back, to his PTSD that had made a bullet seem more appealing than braving the street or closing his eyes for any length of time.

There were going to be hundreds, nay, thousands of people who chose to attempt The Impossible, and they were mostly going to make the smart decision to balance their stats and do as well as they possible could.

You can’t beat an impossible test by following the rules of the test.

Before he could talk himself out of it, Jeb jammed his finger through the plus sign to the right of Myst, tapping it fifteen times.

Jebediah Trapper

Body 5 +

Myst - 15 +

Nerve 8 +

Confirm?

Jeb covered his face with his palm and hit the confirm button.

Well, if the rate of failure is 100% either way, who wouldn’t want to blow shit up with their minds at least once before they bite the dust?

Jeb was not prepared for the headache that followed. It felt like his head was being driven into a railroad track by a pair of well-muscled trackworkers with sledgehammers.

They even had a rhythm set up, which was strangely similar to the panicked beating of his heart.

“Ow, OW, FUCK!” Jeb shouted, clutching his skull in the hopes that he could alleviate the pounding nail being driven through his skull through some kind of pressure or massage.

Didn’t help.

The world flickered, popping briefly into the riot of colors those people with four cones say they see, before flickering back to dull greens and browns of the forest.

Then it happened again, accompanied by a tearing sensation that went from the back of his skull to the sockets of his eyes.

“Motherfucker!” Cussing makes things hurt less, according to popular wisdom, but it didn’t seem to be helping a whole lot.

Underneath the riot of colors, were moving squiggles, along with a mist-like vapor in the air that Jeb hadn’t seen before. Then he started smelling and hearing them, accompanied by similar tearing sensations in his ears and nose.

It was at this point that Jeb thankfully passed into blissful unconsciousness, his brain’s natural defense mechanism protecting him from more trauma.

….

Jeb sat up with a gasp, his hand immediately going to his head.

No pain. He felt fine. Better than before actually. He could see little spirits of small forests creatures flitting back and forth, fairies staring at him quizzically, weird snake things swimming through the air in the upper branches of the canopy, gently brushing the leaves aside like an errant gust of wind. It might have actually been a gust of wind.

The trees seemed to have faces. Not faces, faces, but he could definitely read their mood. They weren’t a big fan of the fire.

Jeb glanced over at the fire, and noticed it was out, having exhausted all of its fuel.

There was a tickle under his nose, and Jeb idly wiped at it, coming away with a hand covered in blood.

To his horror, he discovered that his brand-new brigandine had been covered in blood from a monster nosebleed, tracing the wetness upward, he noticed a track where tears of blood had rolled down his cheeks from his eyes.

“Goddamn,” Jeb muttered, groaning as he pushed himself to his feet.

He grabbed a washcloth from the supply bin and heated up some water over the stove before washing his face and his armor, all the while glancing around the suddenly wondrous and magical forest.

Was this all here, and I couldn’t see it? Jeb thought to himself, watching silvery droplets form on the trees leaves before falling to the ground like a gentle rain, evaporating up into the white mist that seemed to penetrate everything.

There were weird bug things that seemed to prey on each other. One of them with a thick carapace and crushing mandibles lunged out of the tree above him to pounce on one that was sipping on a little silver pool on the ground.

“These things aren’t monsters are they?” They looked pretty aggressive, but when Jeb tried to poke them with his sword, the sword simply went through them, and they ignored him completely.

Well, okay then.

I guess we gotta deal with the fairy in the room, Jeb thought, eyeing the half dozen or so winged people who watched him from the safety of the tree.

“I know this is a long shot, but do you guys understand English?” Jeb asked, looking straight at them.

They glanced at each other and pointed at Jeb, then to themselves, seemingly debating something. Then they shrugged and one of them flew down and waved its tiny little hand in front of Jeb’s eyeballs.

Jeb flinched backwards.

“Holy crap, he can see us!” the creature shouted, voice high pitched as you’d expect.

The other five insect-winged people flitted down to him and began preforming their own testes, tracking his eyes movement, poking at his sensitive bits. There didn’t seem to be anything malicious to it, like a doctor assessing a patient’s condition.

“Full physical integration. His Myst must be above twelve.”

“I can hear you too.” Jeb said, gently brushing one of them away from his eyes.

“Astounding. The nutter must have dumped all his points into Myst.”

“Yeah, that’s right,” Jeb said. “You can talk to me instead of at me, you know.”

They flew away from him and whispered to each other in hushed tones, before seemingly deciding on something.

One of them flew away, while the other five hovered in the air in front of him, their arms crossed.

“Human, you find yourself in the presence of greatness. We are the Mossy-oak-in-the-clearing clan, and given the proper tribute, we would be gracious enough to allow you to stay in our demesne for the time being. Perhaps given a humble enough entreat, we would be willing to sell you useful information.”

Jeb glanced at the mossy oak in the center of the clearing, then over to the MRE’s he’d stacked next to it.

“You guys like M&M’s?”

****Later***

“Sweet Ambrosia!” the leader of the Mossy Oak clan moaned, eyes rolling back in his skull before shoving an entire M&M into his mouth. Their previous haughtiness forgotten, the entire clan gorged themselves on a single handful of the candy-coated chocolates, laying on the grass, moaning with painfully distended bellies.

The individual candies barely fit in the creature’s mouths, but that didn’t stop them from trying. They went bananas for it.

He still had two thirds of the bag left in its original container. A tiny snack for a human was enough to feed a clan of fairies three times over.

“I’m glad you like it,” Jeb said, holding the bag aloft and swinging it back and forth. The fairy’s oversized eyes followed the treats like a hungry dog. “I was actually considering parting with a few more of these, but I want something in exchange.

“Anything!” The head fairy shouted, dropping to his knees, his lips smudged with chocolate. “Anything you need, great dispenser of M&M’s! Do you want my son’s life!? I’ll happily sacrifice him to you, M&M-Lord, but for one more taste of that heavenly concoction!”

Whoah, that’s a little intense.

“What would I need- “ Jeb rubbed his eyebrow. “Answer me these questions three, and receive an M&M…free.”

“Of course, of course.” The leader of the fairies said, nodding and rubbing his hands together gleefully. “Ask, ask!”

“How do I level up?” Jeb asked.

“When two creatures engage each other in a life or death struggle, the System takes note, and awards the victor a share of the defeated creature’s Fate. Once the User has accrued a certain amount, they level up.”

“So, standard RPG rules.”

“What?”

“Nothing,” Jeb said, shaking his head. “What are the rewards for leveling?”

“An Ability Point.” The fairy said, beginning to salivate.

So I got the equivalent of fifteen levels at the beginning of the test and it’s still considered impossible? Goddamn, this is gonna be tough.

“How do I beat this tutorial?” Jeb asked.

“By defeating the World Tortoise, of course,” the fairy said, gleefully holding out it’s hands and making a ‘gimmie, gimmie’, motion.

Jeb gave him an M&M, which it immediately shoved in its mouth.

“Anybody else interested in answering three questions?” Jeb asked, shaking the bag.

The leader fairy gave a groan of indignation, but he was still stuffed with an M&M, so he couldn’t protest too hard when the others came forward, jumping up and down eagerly and waving their hands.

By going through the rest of his M&M bag, Jeb was able to play twenty questions, getting the lay of the land.

The World toroise was the boss of the tutorial, and it was a kaiju-like tortoise that stood some five hundred feet tall, a walking fortress immune to any and all physical, mental and magical attacks. It was so huge, that one of the faries said they’d seen a master pyromancer’s empowered fireball splatter against the side of its nostril like a popping zit.

The World Tortoise’s shell was riddled with hives for vicious symbiotes that defended their homes to the death, numbering in the tens to hundreds of thousands. Anyone that tried to go all inner-space on the thing and stab it’s heart directly got torn to shreds in a matter of minutes.

Well, this is hopeless.

When asked what level it would take to kill something like that by himself, the answer was somewhere in the mid two hundreds, with plenty of skills and equipment.

When asked how long it would take someone to reach that level, the answer was somewhere approaching three hundred and fifty years of dedicated training, assuming rejuvenating elixirs were consumed to keep the User young.

Well, that’s not good.

The forest itself was normally crawling with the tortoise’s parasites, but due to the Safe Zones, they were less than usual. Once the Safe zone was gone however, the woods would be overrun with monsters spawning indefinitely from the creature’s shell. Those creatures could be dealt with on an individual basis, by someone ranging from level ten to fifty.

They rarely moved individually, however.

The good news was that there were more Safe Zones, and therefore more humans out there. They could join forces at some point to try and take the tortoise down.

North, the direction he was originally planning on going was littered with sticky trap plants that, once they seized a man, wouldn’t let him go until they’d been pulled underground and digested. There were also aborigines with poison darts to contend with, a not-so-charming combination. A moment’s inattention could lead to being eaten by a tree or poisoned by frog-people.

To the west were stealthy raptors with steel-shearing talons that ambushed their prey and cut them to pieces before they even knew what was there. Past them were rocky mountains with jets of fire and earth and fire elementals that would crush you or cook you. Possibly both.

To the south was a lake with sirens in it which would lure you to your doom unless your Nerve was above twelve. Even if it was, they possessed elemental magic that made them deadly combatants anywhere near the water, which they never strayed from. A good way to get drowned.

To the East…boars. Or boarlike creatures. Big lumbering masses of meat that charged you as soon as look at you. Physically dangerous, but not particularly smart.

Forewarned was forearmed. South, west, and North were out, so he would go East, toward the boars.

Jeb changed his loadout, grabbing a couple of the biggest spears he could find, the biggest crossbow he could find, a shield and a short sword.

If he could spot the big animal before it spotted him, a bolt to the heart might drop it before it had a chance to gore him.

He remade the fire, despite the tree’s general unease around the blaze, and dropped a bunch of green wood on the flame, creating another rally point.

Let’s try this again. Is there anything I missed this time?

Oh right.

Jeb focused on the pile of MRE’s and held his hand out, focusing on the Myst around him. Move, you fucker, move, you fucker! With a mental grunt of effort, Jeb tried to move the Myst over to the MRE and have it carry the tan package of heavy plastic over to him.

Move, move, MOVE!

Nothing.

Damn, well, it was worth a shot. Telekinesis was the go-to superpower. Jeb supposed he’d have to find out more about what the hell Draw and Output capacity were through trial and error. He couldn’t sit around not doing anything, though. For now, he needed to go get some levels.

Still, it wasn’t like his Myst was completely useless. He’d bartered for a ton of information for the low, low price of a travel bag of M&M’s. In a situation like this, knowledge was power, and his Myst had gotten him plenty of it.

There were probably hundreds of humans getting lured into the lake or pulled underground by venus flytraps right now.

Ignorance kills. Another one of dad’s favored quotes.

Jeb dropped his hand and walked over to the MRE’s, grabbing as many as he could carry in his backpack and heading out.

Why carry so much food offsite?

Because he didn’t trust the fairies not to try to get into them while he was gone. The plastic was tough and he doubted they could get it open, but still. Plus, he didn’t want them to come to the conclusion that All MRE’s had candy in them – they did, but he didn’t want them to know that –. Once he had reached an acceptable distance from the clearing, he started opening them one after the other, taking the different candies from each MRE and jamming them in his pockets before shoving the food back in his backpack.

It they wanted to call him M&M-Lord and dedicate their lives to serving his whims, who was Jeb to argue with that?

Future bribes secured, Jeb crouched back down and began creeping through the woods, as silently as he could, given his armor and weapons.

It was just silent enough, as not five minutes later, he heard a snuffling sound in the distance.

So close to the safe zone!

He crept closer and peeked out from behind the tree that was concealing the creature from him.

Some fifty feet distant, a boarlike creature was digging into the roots of an emerald-green, faintly glowing plant, crunching away at them and grunting loudly enough to cover the sound of his approach.

Boar-like because it didn’t have tusks, but instead a wicked horn jutting out the front.

More like, a pygmy rhino, I guess.

It was faced to the side, and its ribcage was perfectly perpendicular to him.

Not gonna get a better shot than this, Jeb thought, slowly and carefully pulling out his crossbow from where it hung on his waist. He brought it up tight against his shoulder and aimed at the creature, where he expected the vital organs to be.

Just behind the shoulders. A couple years of his childhood spent shooting at foam cutouts of deer were not wasted.

He gave his aim a tiny bit of vertical height, and squeezed the trigger. The yellow fletching streaked across the distance between the two of them and lodged itself deep in the vital zone right behind the shoulder.

Nice!

Fun Fact: The wild Krusker can live for hours with a hole in its lungs.

What the-

“EEEEEE!” the magical pygmy rhino gave a squeal that echoed through the forest before turning to fix Jeb’s dumbstruck face with a pair of furious beady eyes.

“Shit.” Jeb didn’t waste any time reloading the crossbow, tossing it aside in favor of the bigger of the two spears he’d brought, putting it in front of him and putting his foot down on it, driving the wood into the earth, crouching down behind it to keep the spear low and present a smaller target.

Jeb assumed that was the proper boar-hunting posture.

The spear itself was big and gaudy, like it had been taken from someone’s drawing of a spear. It looked like it belonged in an anime convention, but it was solid enough. He’d placed it over a couple rocks and jumped on the shaft several times in full armor to make sure it wasn’t a flimsy dowel covered in paper-mache.

It was solid, didn’t even budge.

So you can imagine Jeb’s surprise when the head of the spear jammed deep into the creature’s chest before snapping off.

“BWA!” was about all the words Jeb could get out before the shaft of the broken spear caught the creature in the chest and sent it squealing up and over his head like a pole-vaulter.

Most of the way over his head.

The creature must have out-weighed him by a substantial margin, because halfway through its epic flight over his head, the shaft snapped again, dropping the creature directly on top of him.

Jeb was instantly crushed to the ground, feeling like he’d just had a disagreement with a linebacker.

The creature squealed and kicked out, one of its hooves crunching his ankle.

“Gah!” Jeb screamed as he rolled out from underneath the creature’s mass, fumbling for his shield and short sword, diving toward them. His right leg crumbled out from under him in a wash of pain, but his left leg picked up the slack, propelling him forward.

He grabbed both his shield and sword and managed to put his back against a tree moments before the creature charged him again.

He interposed his shield between himself and the – what was it called? – krusker, intercepting the sharpened point of the creature’s goring horn.

His shield splintered alarmingly as the horn pierced several inches through the wood, his back was shoved against the tree with enough force to knock the wind out of him.

“Die, you fucker!” Jeb shouted, reaching over the shield with his short sword and stabbing desperately at the creature’s eyes and neck, its horn wiggling in the space between his arm and the shield, bruising his forearm.

He couldn’t quite see what he hit, but after a handful of wrist-shaking impacts against solid bone, his sword slipped deep into something, and the krusker’s squeals went up an octave, it’s thrashing intensifying.

He felt another wave of pain and a ripping sensation from his right leg as the krusker’s hooves scrabbled against the ground, desperately trying to shove its horn through him.

A couple seconds later, the beast went limp, collapsing on top of his lower body.

“Gah!” Jeb grunted as he tried to lever the creature off of him, finally bracing his shoulders against the ground as best he could to finally roll the thing away from his legs.

What he saw chilled him to the bone.

His left leg was trampled thoroughly, but the reinforced leather pants had managed to keep it intact. His right foot on the other hand…that was about two feet further away from his ankle than it should have been, torn off by the creature’s hooves.

“Oh god, oh god,” Jeb panted as the itching pain in his leg began to come into focus.

Squirt! In front of his eyes, a jet of crimson blood shot out of the stump and into the green forest floor.

Shit!

Through the haze of endorphins, Jeb realized that a severed limb was a great way to bleed to death. He’d seen it a couple times, even.

“Oh god, oh, god,” Jeb chanted, tugging off the rope he’d used to secure his makeshift sheath and wrapping it around his right calf, right above the wound. People tend to wax religious when in shock. That or call for their mothers. Whichever.

***

Jeb woke up, cold as a witch’s tit and shivering violently. He peered through groggy eyes at the safe zone.

He was sitting with his back against the mossy oak in the center of the clearing, a trail of blood leading back out into the forest. There was a used syringe of morphine sitting next to him, an empty bottle of antiseptic and coagulant, along with a bundle of bloody bandages.

His foot –scratch that, stump – was wrapped in bloody rags that were only showing a bit of red from oozing blood.

If he weren’t quite so freaked out, he might have given himself a pat on the back for doing such a good job with the wound care despite the morphine burning a hole through his short-term memory.

“Goddamnit, half the MRE’s are gone,” a man’s voice called from the other side of the tree, causing Jeb to stiffen up and hold his breath.

“Looks like most of the weapons and armor are still here, though.” Another voice joined the first.”

People!

Jeb leaned over, battling a sudden dizziness as he crawled around the side of the mossy oak.

He almost faceplanted before he managed to drag himself back into a seated position facing the seven humans rummaging through his crates.

“Oh, would you look at that!” the biggest one, an oversized man with a shaved head and a great bushy beard said, turning to face Jeb. He was wearing heavy armor which exposed thick, bulging muscles arms, and wore an oversized axe on his back.

“The corpse wasn’t a corpse after all.” He gave a meaningful glance at a nearby man, slender with receding hair, wearing just a leather cuirass.

“I’m sorry boss,” the man said, throwing his hands up. “I’m not a doctor. I din’t feel no pulse.”

“Well, whatever,” the boss said, glancing Jeb up and down. “He’s not a corpse yet. Come on, Kyle, pack up the food,” he grabbed an extra backpack and tossed it to a younger looking teen who kept casting uncertain looks at Jeb.

“Are you…robbing me?” Jeb asked,

“I don’t think of it as robbing, so much as not wasting the resources on people who’ve got Less’n a snowball’s chance in hell.” The leader said, unconcerned by Jeb’s stare.

“Why, you gonna try and stop us?” The leader asked, glancing over his shoulder at Jeb.

They both knew the answer to that.

“Maybe we should grab the sword, too. It looks solid.” One of the seven said, a short man with wispy hair, looking over at Jeb’s blade.

“Try it,” Jeb growled, holding the blade out. “And lose some fingers.”

He was absolutely sure he didn’t strike a very intimidating pose with his back slumped against the tree, missing a foot.

One of the seven, a woman with piercing blue eyes, pulled out an arrow and aimed it at Jeb’s face, heedless of the fairy sitting on top of it, waggling its feet.

They can’t see them?

“Naw, Everyone, calm down. I’m a firm believer that everyone deserves a shot.” The big man said with a grin. “Not that kind of shot. A chance. We’re not gonna kill a guy for a blade when we’ve got so many to choose from already.”

True, they looked pretty well armed already.

“Now get over here and pack up, our friend there knows we’ll kill him if he moves away from his tree.”

The icy-eyed woman put the arrow away, forcing the fairy to take flight or fall.

“Do the bikini armors work?” Jeb asked, raising his voice to cut through the din of people sorting through his shit, deciding what to take based on weight and relative value.

The bald mammoth of a man chuckled and shook his head, eyes twinkling with mirth. “No, they do not.”

“Damn.” Jeb briefly considered offering them a trade, medical supplies for information on the layout of the forest, then decided against it. He didn’t want to give these mercenary fucks anything more, especially not something so valuable as information.

His hard-won information.

Besides, I’ve got an idea for how to get some of what I need back.

In another half-hour, they left him alone, treading into the west, toward the raptor part of the forest.

They’d left a few of the less useful supplies behind, things that were heavy, like sledgehammers, or functionally useless as a weapon, like the garrote wire.

Hah, they left the atlatl. Took the arrows and spare bows, though.

Most of the bladed weapons were taken, leaving Jeb’s shortsword and a left-handed cleaver. All the medical supplies were gone –assholes– along with the food and sundries.

Assuming he didn’t get gangrene and die, his next concern would be dehydration, followed by starvation, and then finally finding something to wipe his ass with.

Still, I’ve got a solution for some of these problems.

Jeb detached the shield strapped to his arm and dug into his front pocket with his shaking left hand, pulling out a bag of M&Ms and shaking it in the air.

“Who wants to earn some M&M’s?”

“Ooh, me, me!” fairies literally came out of the woodwork, jumping up and down in excitement.

There were a lot more than last time.

That one fairy who left must have brought more.

“Now, the person to steal the most of my shit back without anyone noticing gets a whole M&M! Hard candy coating with that perfect crunch, and a soft chocolaty center. These have been warming up in my pocket, so you know the insides are soft and delicious.”

The fairies lost their damn minds.

“Hey bossman,” Jeb called after the fairy leader, who was about to streak through the sky at his bidding. “I’ve got a better offer for you.”

“Really?” The fairy said, flitting down to sit on his wounded leg. Jeb resisted the urge to swat him off.

“Yeah, do you know how Myst works?”

“Of course.”

Jeb felt like facepalming.

“And could you teach me how to use it?”

The fairy boss of the tree scowled, looking Jeb over with pursed lips. The Fairy realized he had the upper hand, now.

“This is powerful knowledge, of great value. For fifty M&M’s I will teach you this.”

“Five,” Jeb said, holding up his fingers. The morphine was starting to wear off, and the pain in his legs was rapidly getting worse, but he couldn’t let this little bastard overcharge him.

Objectively, fifty M&Ms for the secrets of magic was probably an insanely good deal, but Jeb wasn’t the type to let someone set their own price.

“Foolish human, you have no leverage. Without this knowledge, you will die, and we will pick your corpse clean. The M&M’s are practically ours already.”

“Oh, really?” Jeb asked. “What if I did this?” Jeb tore the top of the bag off and slid a mouthful of M&Ms into his maw, crunching down on them with a satisfied groan.

“NOOO!” the Fairy squeaked with outrage. “You villain.”

“Carefull, I’m getting hungry. I might have to…” He made to tilt the bag into his mouth again.

“Fine! Thirty M&Ms, and not a single delicious morsel less.”

“Fifteen.”

The fairy boss’s lower lip trembled, and Jeb raised his brows, tilting the bag up toward his mouth.

“Fine! Fifteen M&M’s for the knowledge of Myst….But spells cost extra!”

“Deal.” Jeb glanced at his leg. Damn, I wish I had thought of this before I charged out into the wilderness like a dumbass.

Eh, fuck it, how was I supposed to know a shot to the heart and a good spearing was a half-measure? I did as well as can be expected for a normal guy with a normal Body.

Jeb was lucky to be alive, foot or no foot.

Now that he knew exactly how bad off he was, he was going to take every advantage he could possibly muster.

***Jessica Stile***

“So, what did he do after we left? Any hidden stash or anything?” George asked as Jessica got back from observing the injured man. Her Nerve was higher than the others, enhancing her senses and pmental processing power. It made her quite good as a scout.

“No, he just sat there, talking to himself and threatening to eat a bag of M&M’s.” Jessica said with a shrug. It was behavior that she’d never seen short of raving lunatics on the street corner.

“I knew it, he’s one of those crazies that raised their Myst. Explains why he got wounded fighting those easy-ass boars.”

“Either that or a suicidal diabetic.” One of the team chimed in.

The rest of the team chuckled, but Jessica was unable to shake an odd sense of wrongness. Unlike a typical crazy person, his conversation had been entirely coherent, if only half of the puzzle.

Do you know how myst works?

And could you teach me how to use it?

Hmmm…

“Hey, which one of you took my knife?”

Chapter 2:

Luck favors the prepared.

-Louis Pasteur

***Jeb****

Draw the Myst in… Jeb visualized the Myst being drawn into a fiery core at the center of his being, the flames slowly being stoked as they were converted to…something else.

Draw was a measure of how quickly he could bring fuel into the tiny sun that he’d kindled at the core of his being, Storage was a hard limit on the size of the little sun, and output capacity was the speed at which he could pull magic out of it.

Of course, it wouldn’t do to draw too much out of that little sun just under his lungs, because if it went out, he’d have to start growing it again from scratch…and that had been a bitch.

Nearly a week spent meditating and trying to breathe in Myst before he’d settled on the image of burning it, rather than using it as sustenance, or bathing in it’s essence, or using it to lift his consciousness to a higher plane, or whatever the flowery language was at the time.

He was a twenty-first century boy, after all. Burning thing for fuel appealed to him.

And so he wound up with this little star of golden light that was slowly growing inside him, rather than a root that joined heaven and earth, whatever the hell that meant.

Once he had the image down, it was just a matter of sucking the golden energy out with a straw. The straw represented his output. The size and how close it was to the star inside him were all factors.

After meditating with next to no blood for six days, eating nothing but MRE’s and bound up like a bear in winter, He finally did it.

He drew in Myst, burned it, and siphoned off a bit of that glowing orange energy, pushing it out into the real world, and knocking over his blade, which was leaning up against the tree.

Telekinesis, motherfucker!...Probably.

He was pretty sure the sword wouldn’t have fallen over by itself. Pretty sure.

Let’s try something lighter.

He grabbed a pebble off the ground, held it in his palm, and pushed the orange energy out, forming a small, but dense platform underneath the rock.

The rock floated up into the air, buoyed by the magic beneath it, and Jeb felt like he could kiss someone. Anyone.

I have made fire! Look at what I have created! The scene in Cast Away where Tom Hanks pounded his chest, celebrating his accomplishment could not have done the sensation any more justice.

“Fuck yeah!” Jeb pumped his fist in victory, which made his shoddily crafted pegleg slip off his knee, jamming into his still-healing wound and dropping him into the dirt with a howl of pain.

“Worth it,” Jeb groaned into the dirt, before rolling over and checking his bandages. There was a little bit of seepage so he changed them out the bandage and continued. It hadn’t gotten infected, so there was a reasonable chance he could survive.

At least until the end of week two.

The loss of the Safe Zone was, for all intents and purposes, Game Over.

For now.

Rather than try killing an enormous turtle that dominated the forest sky when it passed by sometime in the next six days, his time would probably be better spent ensuring that he could survive once the Safe Zones were no longer safe.

That meant he still needed to get levels.

Not even that first kill that he lost his GODDAMN FOOT to get had netted him a level, and he needed to get twenty of them before he got a class. A class which, according to Acorn –he’d bothered to learn the boss fairy’s name – should provide him with a boost in power and the ability to specialize.

Specialization meant the ability to choose a focus that leaned away from foot-based combat arts like swordplay, archery, javelin throwing…pretty much anything that required muscle power had been compromised by lacking a foot.

He needed twenty levels, and he needed them fast, or else he was limping duck.

Which was why he’d decided to industrialize.

“Alright, pick up the pace,” Jeb said as he clomped back and forth along the defined edge of the Safe Zone, where a horde of fairies were using magic to dig a pit trap for Kruskers, tiny beads of sweat beading on their tiny brows as they concentrated on moving dirt with spade-like projections of Myst.

“Only closers get M&M’s. Are you a closer Leaf-Wind?”

“Yes sir, M&M lord!” Leaf-wind shouted, redoubling his efforts, flinging more dirt up and out.

“That’s right,” Jeb said with a nod. He’d taken the arguably unethical approach of paying the fairy with the most productivity an M&M at the end of each shift, leaving the others to stare on jealously, balling up their fists with impotent rage.

Unethical, but cost effective.

He’d heard about employers giving large bonuses to the top preforming earners as a way of paying a relatively small amount while squeezing extra free labor out of their entire work force by making them compete.

Too bad fairies don’t have unions.

“Wait, isn’t he just paying us one M&M for all of us to work as hard as we can?” one of the fairies asked. “Don’t we, on average, earn a tiny, tiny fraction of an M&M per shift?”

Oh, crap!

“Kid, I like you,” Jeb said, approaching the fairy. “What’s your name?”

“Smartass, M&M-Lord.”

“Listen Smartass. I like you. You make a good point, but you failed to point out that…” Jeb said, holding up a delicious chocolate confection. “One of you could have the whole thing.”

“My pile’s the biggest!” One of the fairies said, standing proudly on a pile of dirt almost at tall as Jeb’s waist.

“Not if I have anything to say about it!” another shouted, throwing himself into digging, throwing shovelful after shovelful of dirt onto his own pile.

Good old capitalism.

Jeb turned his gaze back on the fairy giving him the stink-eye.

“Smartass, smartass, babe, your talents are wasted digging,” He said, taking the fairy over to the other side of the safe zone to negotiate.

It was there that he introduced Smartass to the sweet, sweet world of bribes and croney capitalism. All in exchange for being the voice of reason for the other fairies, keeping them competing against each other and not bothering thinking about difficult things like average payout and employee compensation.

I feel pretty bad about all this. If the fairies are anything to go by, humans are going to tear Pharos a new asshole.

Once his rule over the little folk was assured – he had enough M&Ms to last a month, conservatively – he applied himself to learning how to use his new magical powers more effectively, copying what the Faries were doing and creating a phantom spade to literally shovel the dirt up and out with his mind.

After a little bit of experimentation, he found it was more efficient to seep the orange glowing magic evenly into the ground, freeze it in place, then yank it out in a great big chunk of earth, rather than use the magic like a shovel.

After a day, he was moving earth faster than the fairies, hollowing out chunks of ground about two feet deep and one in diameter, and growing.

Breath Myst in, Burn it, siphon the glowing bit around the star out, careful not to take from the star itself. He needed to keep growing the orb inside him, until the amount that he siphoned off of it without damaging its glow was substantial enough to be practically useful.

But when is that day coming? Because my time here is dwindling.

Between him and the fairies, it only took two days to get the holes dug, one more day to carve the wooden stakes and put them in the traps, and only a couple more hours to cover the holes reasonably well. A human might be able to tell something was up, but a krusker in the heat of a charge wouldn’t notice anything…hopefully.

Only gonna get one shot at this.

“Alright, next mission, people,” Jeb said, clapping his hands together. “Whosoever leads the most kruskers into the pit traps gets….a candy bar!” Jeb pulled a Snickers out of his pocket. It was the tiny sized one that comes as a side to the mac and cheese, but it was absolutely gigantic compared to a single M&M.

“It’s mine!”

“No, I shall be the one to obtain it!”

The fairies scattered in every direction, and in a matter of minutes, Jeb was confident he’d have experience coming to him rather than having to risk life and limb to get it.

All he had to do was wait for them to fall into the hole, then stab them from above until they stopped moving. If he understood the way Fate or experience worked in this system, he’d be one the fast track to making up for a week and a half of lost time.

Doing things the smart way is often boring, Jeb thought, fetching his finishing spear made from his shortsword and a nice thick sapling.

“It was you!” A familiar, masculine voice shouted, dragging Jeb’s attention to the far side of the Safe Zone.

“Crap.”

It was the dude with the shaved head and the big, bushy beard, along with the severe blue-eyed lady with the bow. The two of them looked worse for wear, covered in blood and superficial wounds. They were also alone, the rest of the crew seemingly dead or gone.

Between Jeb and old redbeard was a huge pile of pilfered goods. All the weapons, medicine and food they’d stolen from him, and more besides. The Fairies weren’t paying a lot of attention, so they just grabbed….everything.

“You stole all our gear!” the brawny man shouted, spittle flying out of his lips, vein bulging on the side of his head. “Men died because of you!”

A manic giggle bubbled out of Jeb at the complete absurdity of the man’s hypocrisy.

Old redbeard did not take kindly to Jebs’ giggle, lowering his head like a bull and charging, axe drawn.

“Whoops!” Jeb turned started stumping away at full speed, aiming for the covered pits, using his spear as a makeshift crutch.

Clomp, Clomp.

“AAAAAARGH!”

Clomp, clomp.

It was a close race between the seasoned warrior and the cripple. Jeb had to cover about ten feet, while redbeard had roughly two hundred to clear.

He almost got him, too.

The man’s Body must have been raised well into superhuman territory, because Jeb felt the axe whiff past his spine in less than three seconds as he pole-vaulted over the pit-trap, tumbling to the ground on the other side.

Redbeard’s next swing turned into confused flailing as the ground gave out from beneath him.

You have gained a level!

You have gained a level!

You have gained a level!

You have gained a level!

You have gained a level!

You have gained a level!

You are now level six!

Jeb pushed himself to his feet….foot, leaning on the spear as he hopped closer to the pit. Let’s see if you get levels for subduing people…but I doubt it.

“Redbeard? Buuuuddy? You okaaay?” Jeb said, peering over the edge of the pit before sucking in a breath through his teeth. “Ow, that looks like it hurt.”

Jeb had packed the spikes in there nice and tight, and redbeard had gotten one through the eye and neck.

And groin.

Yikes. Well, at least we’ve got a proof of concept with a charging boar. Pit still looks plenty usable…and I’m standing on the wrong side of it. Any minute now a stampede of Kruskers were gonna come through here, and Jeb needed to be inside the Safe Zone.

“Don’t move!” Came a woman’s shout.

Jeb’s attention was drawn up, making eye contact with the icy blue eyes of the woman with an arrow drawn, bead on his heart.

“Well, this is awkward.”

“Don’t move,” she said in a more subdued tone as she approached, shuffling toward the pit to glance over the edge.

Jeb didn’t really get a chance to inspect her the first time they met, other than her eyes. He’d thought she was older when they first met, but that seemed to be a result of the stress and the grime.

Mid-twenties, probably?

She had natural strawberry blonde hair and freckles under the dirt, soft cheeks and a slightly pointed chin.

Her figure was concealed behind a layer of padded armor, but judging by her forearms, it was…athletic.

Jeb wasn’t quite able to read her expression as she looked in the hole, arrow still aimed at his chest.

It seemed like a mixture of relief and hopelessness, Which Jeb found odd, until he considered the circumstances, breaking down the situation in his head.

Pretty girl in a group of guys, biggest meanest guy there lays a ‘claim’ on her. At the same time, biggest meanest guy is also the best shot at getting out of the impossible test alive. And now he’s dead.

Relief, and hopelessness.

“I really need to get on the other side –“

“Shut up.” She said, raising the bow again and glaring at him, eyes crazed. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

“Ummm…”

“I’ll tell you what you’ve done, you just killed our best shot at getting out of here! George was level thirty-five! He was the closest thing we had to someone who could kill the Boss!”

“He wasn’t my best shot of getting out of here,” Jeb said, waving his hand dismissively.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t shoot you right now!” She said, nostrils flaring as she tightened her grip on her bow.

Jeb breathed in, burned Myst, then siphoned energy out, forming a scissor-shape with the orange power and snipping the bowstring.

The bow’s arms exploded outward, whipping the remaining string across her face and sending the arrow tumbling into the grass. She reeled backward, landing on her ass, hand clasped over a bloody nose.

“Your bow’s busted,” Jeb said, limping around the hole and back into the Safe Zone.

Chapter 3:

***Jessica***

He’d done something.

She didn’t know what, but in that instant, she knew he’d done something.

George was scary, sure, but he was a definable threat. If he got mad, he’d cut you in half with his axes. It could be avoided by avoiding the axes… but what this man had just done…she couldn’t perceive it at all.

Myst. That trait no one focused on because those that did started seeing things, and no one wanted to be physically weaker than everyone else in exchange for going crazy.

The man’s found some way to use it.

She held her hand over her bleeding nose. The string had put a gash up the middle of it, emerging above her right eyebrow.

She could probably still take him… She was level twenty-two with the Assassin class, with twenty-five Body and thirty Nerve, and he was a cripple with baseline physical stats.

By all accounts she should be able to walk over and snap his neck…but she didn’t know what he could do in response, and that made her hesitate.

“Let me ask you something, miss…” The green-eyed cripple asked, leaning on his spear and watching her with an exhausted gaze.

“Jessica.”

“Jessica?” I knew a Jessica in middle school once, we didn’t get along.” He stared out into space, his jaw slack. No you can’t have one, you didn’t bring me anything! Fine, if you fix the trap you can have one. One!”

Jessica considered making a dash for it as the crazy man argued with the air, but a fraction of a second later, she heard a rustle behind her. When she peered over her shoulder, the sticks and leaves covering the pit trap were beginning to reassemble themselves, as if by magic.

No, it’s definitely magic. This guy can move shit with his mind.

Jessica began weighing her choices.

“You were going to ask me something?” She prompted, and the haunted looking man refocused on her.

“Right.” He wiggled a finger at some of the bandages on the supply pile, and they shot through the air, landing in his hand. If she had any doubt about what he could do, they were assuaged. “Is there anyone else left?”

“Everyone else is dead.” Jessica said.

“So if you killed me, it would just be you,” he said, offering her the bandage with an outstretched hand.

“Yeah, I guess.” She took it and quickly wrapped some around the cut over her nose. She’d long since gotten over giving two shits about petty flesh wounds.

“So, wanna work together?” He asked, hope written plainly across his face, along with an undercurrent of desire. She’d been around long enough to spot it, even when men tried to act nonchalant. At this point it just meant they weren’t gay.

Still, after George…

“How do I know I can trust you?” she demanded.

The emaciated man frowned.

“Well, I suppose if at any point you’re not happy working together, you can just…” He tapped his gimp leg. “Walk away. A brisk walk would probably be enough.”

Despite all the horror she’d seen over the last week, that still managed to wring a laugh out of her. It was so funny she cried.

***Jeb***

Jeb knew he had her when she started laughing.

Get ‘em laughing, as grandpappy used to say.

Then she started sobbing, and Jeb was not so sure.

Then she started laughing again, and Jeb was pretty sure she wasn’t laughing at his joke, but rather the sheer horror and futility of it all. What else could they do but laugh when the world was going crazy?

That got a chuckle out of Jeb, and pretty soon he was cry-laughing too.

I haven’t spoken to anyone except Redbeard in a week and half. God, this is exactly what I needed.

In the blink of an eye – literal fucking blink of an eye – Jessica was on top of him, with a knife pressing into his throat. She moved many times faster than he could react.

“I’m not having sex with you.” she said, brilliant blue eyes narrowed.

“Unless I miss my guess,” Jeb said, looking down at the knife that had disappeared under his chin. He could still feel it, though. “You could probably rip me in half. So…coercing you seems like a bad idea.” Lots of squishy parts in tearing range.

Her eyes narrowed, and she held up her other hand.

“Twist my hand, hard as you can.”

Jeb did so, but it felt like trying to arm wrestle a bear made out of solid marble.

“Guess you’re right. You don’t have any freaky mind-powers, do you?”

“No ma’am. Your leg armor is pinching my skin, though, so if you could-“

“EEEEEE!” the sound of dozens of angry kruskers stampeding through the underbrush grabbed their attention.

“Shit,” Jeb cursed, scurrying to his feet – foot – as she stepped off of him, scanning the woods.

“What level did you say you were?” she asked with a frown.

“Including the six I got from that guy?” Jeb asked, pointing at the now-covered pit-trap.

“Yeah.”

Status

Jebediah Trapper

Unclassed, Level 6

Body 5 +

Myst 15 +

Nerve 8 +

6 Ability Points remaining.

“Six,” Jeb said with a shrug, hesitating a moment before dropping all six points into Myst

Jebediah Trapper

Unclassed, Level 6

Body 5 +

Myst - 21 +

Nerve 8 +

Confirm?

“Oh god, we’re gonna die.” Jessica said.

“Oh god, I hope this doesn’t hurt as much as the first time,” Jeb whispered before poking the Confirm button hanging in the air in front of him.

The good news was that it didn’t, in fact, hurt as much the second time around.

The bad news was that meant he didn’t pass out, instead having to sit through what amounted to an icepick headache worth writing home about.