Emma laughed. It was a good sound. She shook her head and said, âYou know, Iâm an EMT in New Jersey. I thought Iâd seen some crazy shit. Little did I know.â
âWhen you get back, youâre going to have so many levels and stat points,â Jack said. âYouâre gonna be the toughest person you know, and youâre going to be able to help all the people you love.â
Emmaâs eyes widened. âSpeaking of which.â She pointed to her temple. âI took the level, but I didnât do the stuff. Iâve got points to assign, and I think maybe I can evolve my class.â
âLet me know if I can help at all,â Jack said. âIâm looking forward to getting there myself.â He shot a slightly wistful glance at my pit trap. From his perspective, it was probably a little too successful. Even with points for healing Emma, he needed to kill a few more goblins before he could level up again.
Although, speaking of doing the stuff⦠stat points? I bit my lip, then peeked at my own status screen. Oops. Iâd forgotten to do that after choosing my ability. Iâd never looked at those mysterious traits, either. Maybe it was time to check those things out.
My attributes read:
Physical
Strength - 2
Agility - 3
Endurance - 2
Mental
Intelligence - 4
Perception - 12
Resilience - 11
X-Factor
Presence - 3
Serendipity - 10
Will - 12
At the bottom of the list, a line read, Free: 2.
I didnât want to scroll around all those messages again, but the numbers looked odd to me.
âHey, Jack. Attribute points. We talked about them before, I know, but quick refresher? Iâve got a line that says, Free, at the bottom and I donât remember that being there before.â
âCool, that means you get to assign some of your stat points. You get to choose which attribute you want more of.â
âGotcha.â I eyed the list again, frowning. The System obviously thought Perception, Resilience, and Will were my strong suit, with some nice Serendipity, too, but I thought it might be good to be a little more well-rounded.
Two points werenât going to take me very far, but without spending more than a few seconds of thought on it, I mentally told the System to put one point in Strength and one in Endurance.
I felt a weird rush, like a little jolt of electricity hit me in the chest and then radiated out through my body.
âMost people go for a min-max strategy,â Jack said. âYou put all your points into your core and dump the rest.â
I shook off the rush. âWhat? How do you know what your core is?â
âWhateverâs most important for your build. Those are your core stats. Like, if youâre a tank, you probably need a lot of endurance. And then you ignore the others.â
I looked at my attributes list again. Iâd added a point to endurance so now I had three of them. âI donât think Iâm that kind of tank,â I muttered.
âOkay, well, strength is probably good, too.â
I wasnât sure I was that kind of tank, either. But itâs not like I knew what kind of tank I was. Maybe I should just move on. I was pretty sure the System wasnât going to allow do-overs, so if Iâd messed up⦠well, done was done.
And didnât one of those traits have a name something like that? Maybe I should take a look at them.
I mentally navigated down to the traits section and expanded it. Four entries appeared.
The first was:
Will (10+)âNo Means No
I focused on it, and an expanded tooltip opened up.
No Means NoâYou are resistant to all mind control, magical suggestion, and forced emotional states. Once per day, you may instantly break free from any ongoing attempt to influence your thoughts, feelings, or actions. Your sense of self cannot be overwritten.
Score! Okay, I officially loved that attribute. Resistant to all mind control? I wondered if Iâd be able to watch Fox News. Nah, probably not worth the risk. But the last line of the trait in particular felt like it had been written just for me.
Although wasnât it a little weird that the System was giving me a trait that would prevent my sense of self from being overwritten while simultaneously messing with my brain? Shouldnât that at least be, âYour sense of self cannot be overwritten unless creepy Santa Claus feels like doing so?â But whatever, I was going to accept it gratefully. No complaints.
The second trait was:
Resilience (10+)âShake It Off
You recover from negative conditions (poison, disease, fear, paralysis, charm, stun) twice as fast as normal. Once per day, you can immediately end any one physical or mental status effect affecting you, no matter how severe. Minor setbacks, distractions, or pain simply donât stick.
Interesting. I wondered if that once per day effect could be used on something like the injured condition Iâd been suffering from earlier. Could this work as a healing spell? Or was it more for things like Emmaâs poison issue? Iâd have to experiment. Although with it working only once a day, it would probably take a while to fully test it out.
I imagined myself turning testing it into a routine, like brushing my teeth before bed. It would be sort of cool, although horribly unhealthy, if I could heal myself of [Sleepy] every day.
Next up, was:
Perception (10+)âEyes Wide Open
You see things for what they really are. You notice what others miss: patterns, tells, and even the shimmer of hidden magic. Once per day, your perception sharpens so intensely that nothing escapes your noticeâno secret passage, whispered lie, or invisible thread of mana.
Well.
If I had read this before Emma and Sam showed up, could I have spotted Sam before he attacked? Would I have seen him entering the sanctuary?
If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
Maybe. Again, done was done, but note to self: read the dang messages from the System when they come in.
Turn notifications on, I told the System silently.
A settings dialog box popped up in front of me, looking just like an Apple notifications window, including a list of options. I almost laughed.
Allow notifications while in combat?
Allow notifications while sleeping?
Allow notifications while in stealth?
Allow notifications while engaging in social interaction? (System interpretation may vary.)
Allow notifications while under the effects of mind control?
There were settings to choose my own alert sound, to control the volume, to set each individual style of notification to visual or aural⦠and on and on.
I got stuck on the one that determined the emotional tone of my System interactions. Did I want brief or detailed, businesslike or supportive, strict or friendly? The creepy Santa Claus in my head was willing to be anything from a faceless authority figure to my new best friend, or anywhere in between, and I was supposed to decide.
I closed my eyes and covered my face with my hands, but of course the dialog box was in my mind, so that didnât make it go away.
Suppress duplicate messages within 60 seconds?
Allow notification chimes to reflect urgency level?
Enable priority mode for life-threatening information only?
Display tooltips over visible enemies? (Caution: May obstruct targeting.)
Allow unsolicited system encouragement?
âWhat is it?â Jack asked. âSomething bad?â
I dropped my hands. âDonât open the settings. Just⦠donât.â
Close window, I told the System. Iâd deal with all that later. Right now, Iâd just stick with what I had and hope that the right messages showed up when I needed them.
Jack, being Jack, opened his settings. I could see him do it. First, he squinted, then his eyes opened wide, then a warm glow of delight spread over his face. âOh my God, this is so cool.â
I sighed. I had one more trait left to look at.
Serendipity (10+)âLucky Break
Once per day, when youâre at riskâwhether in danger, facing disaster, or just needing a little extra helpâyour Serendipity score doubles for the next hour. If something would go wrong, it wonât. If things are already going your way, the outcome becomes even better than expected. Unlikely opportunities or gentle turns of fortune seem to appear just when you need them most.
This time, I really did laugh. It was either that or cry, and laughing felt healthier.
Then I remembered that moment when Samâs strike against Jack missed and Jack had a chance to dive out of the way, and my amusement changed to a rush of gratitude. I was pretty sure Iâd gotten my Lucky Break for the day.
Zelda looked up at me, tail wagging. Play now? Play?
âSoon,â I promised her, before looking up at the dark sky. âWell, in the morning, anyway.â
It was easy to forget that it was nighttime. Leveling up had boosted my energy enough that even two hours of digging and a quick battle hadnât done much to dampen it. It felt to me like it was about lunch time, at most.
I glanced over at Emma. She had a slight frown of contemplation on her faceânot worried, just thoughtful. But she felt my gaze on her and looked over with a smile.
âTough decisions,â she said. âHow did you decide?â
âThe System actually assigned me a class, so I didnât get to choose. I get to be what it told me to be.â
I pointed at the glowing roses overhead, and added, âIâm not complaining. A little defense, a little healing, and a lot of flowers. Itâs okay by me. But can I help you at all? Maybe talking it out would be useful.â
âWhen I picked Ranger at Level 1, I had three choices. I think they were archer, hunter, and pathfinder. I chose pathfinder. It seemed the most useful, and also, maybe, the least violent. I probably shouldâve gone with Cleric, but I am not religious.â
The way she said it made me think there was a story behind her words, but I didnât ask. Someday, maybe, over a glass of wine or a cup of coffee, when we got out of this place, we could talk about how our respective upbringings had turned us against churches. But that was for later. After we survived.
âBut at Level 5, you can make a different choice. You can go back and take one of the classes you didnât pick. So I could become a Cleric now, if I wanted to.â
âWhatâs the catch?â I asked. It sounded almost too useful.
âYou start over at level one. But you get to keep your stat gains.â
âWhat?â Jack interrupted. âThat could be so powerful. You could cycle through the early levels over and over again and get really strong before leveling up.â
âOr,â I said pointedly, âit could be a one-time deal, and you could get stuck with a class you didnât want.â Jack might be an optimist but even he should realize that trying to game the System probably wouldnât end well.
âOh. Yeah, that makes more sense.â
âYour other option is to evolve your class,â Emma continued. âButâ¦â She sighed.
âBut?â Jack prompted.
âTwo problems.â She ticked them off on her fingers. âFirst, you donât get to see your possible class evolutions until after you decide whether to go back and pick one of the original classes or move forward with an evolution.â
âSecondâ¦â She gave a very half-hearted chuckle. âYour evolution options are based on what youâve done with your class while leveling. The System says, quote, âAvailable class evolution pathways have been selected to align with your observable strengths and established patterns of engagement.ââ
I immediately flashed back to that moment when Emma stabbed Sam in the stomach, the single precise blow, and the look on his face as he fell. And then the sound of her scream.
It was the first time Iâd ever seen someone die.
A human being, that is. Goblins were someones, too, werenât they?
But Emma went on. âSo Iâve spent the past day running and watching people get killed. What do you think, my class evolves into Track Star? Sadistic Voyeur? What are my possibilities?â
âIâve cried more today than I probably have in the past twenty years,â Emma continued, the bitterness in her tone becoming more apparent. âMaybe Crybaby? Maybe thatâs my possible evolution?â
Jack laughed. Before I could call him out for being insensitive, he put up a hand, five fingers spread wide.
âWeâre in a challenge scenario for the first people to fight for our planet, and youâre one of the last five people left inside. Me, Iâm still level 2, same as twelve hours ago, because all I did today was lie on the ground and try not to die.â
He pointed at Zelda, who lifted her head and panted happily at him. âMeanwhile the dog killed the goblins, and Olivia hunted for a healing potion to save me. I mean, not to be insensitive, but I donât think the grading scale is going to be hard on you.â
âLast four,â I said quietly. âSam was number five.â
âLast four. Yeah,â Emma echoed me, just as quietly. âOut of twenty-four. I saw five of them die. Killed a sixth with my own hands.â
âAnd he would have killed me if you hadnât first warned me, then killed him. Thatâs hero material, if you ask me. Even if you cry afterwards. Maybe especially if you cry afterwards,â Jack said.
Emma looked between Jack and me, something shifting in her expression. Not quite hope, but maybe a loosening of the self-loathing.
âPlus, youâre the one with the map,â I added. âThe one who knows about the lizard thing and the goblin stronghold. Without you, Jack and I would be sitting here arguing about whether we should go exploring or build a better pit trap.â
âExplore, explore, explore,â Jack said, which earned him a snort from Emma.
âOkay.â Emma straightened. âOkay. Iâm not going backwards, so evolution it is.â
Her eyes unfocused as she navigated her system interface. âLetâs see what the System thinks of my day.â
A minute passed. Then another. Emmaâs frown deepened.
âWell?â Jack asked, impatience getting the better of him.
âOkay, this is...â Emma blinked, refocusing on us. âThis is not what I expected. So the good news is, no Crybaby class. Iâve got an uncommon class option called Wayfinder, which looks like the natural evolution of Pathfinder. Map enhancements, some detection skills, and a choice between a couple of archery abilities. Two Perception points per level, one Agility, and one free.â
She took a breath and went on, with a little smile tugging at her lips.
âThen thereâs Field Medic, whichâ¦â She placed a hand over her heart. âHybrid pathfinder-healer, basically. Still uncommon, with one Agility point, one Intelligence, one Perception and one free. Same map enhancements, plus a triage skill, and the ability is a choice between healing or archery.â
âThat sounds like yours, then,â Jack said, clearly delighted for her.
Emma tipped her head in a wordless maybe. âIâve also got a rare class option. Five attribute points per level, all of them free, and a choice ofâ¦â She counted silently. âSix different abilities. Itâs called Survivor.â
She went quiet again, reading, and I found myself holding my breath.
âThatâs the full name?â Jack asked.
âYep,â she nodded. âI mean, Field Medic is like, hey, EMT, here you go, I see you. But Survivorâ¦â Her words trailed off.