Novels2Search
1% Life's Real (a 1% Lifesteal parody)
It seems these days even the most bare necessities cost $500.

It seems these days even the most bare necessities cost $500.

"I need your ID, sir," The grumpy and drowsy hotel clerk droned. It was clear that she stayed in the night shift to catch some sleep and get paid for it, and Robert had woken her up. Robert provided his new ID, courtesy of the ATA. "Mr. Robert Blaze. One star..."

The clerk sprung into full alertness as if she were standing on an electrified pad.

Archhumans were forced to have their advancement information on their IDs, the number of stars they had. As a newly minted Arch, Robert had only one. But even that one star was like the difference between heaven and earth compared to these mortals.

"I'm sorry, sir. Yes, welcome, sir. We have a room that's perfect for you, sir. Complete with privacy wards and defenses against intrusion."

Robert smiled. "It's fine. Thank you."

He winced when he heard the price.

Robert locked the door and admired the hotel room. A good, hopefully clean bed, a two-seat couch, dresser, bathroom, a table with two chairs. Five hundred dollars a day, no meals included. Fucking expensive for the amenities provided, but he needed a place to stay. Panic started to creep around the edges of his psyche but he had to push through it. He would make tons of money once he became a healer and started delving the passages. His available funds should last around two months at this pace.

He had to make it work. He had to learn his spells and practice his tempering techniques. Right now, he was a fledgling Arch, nothing more than a baby in the eyes of the superpowered people. It all started here, with the primer he got from the Association. The book started with the history of the change from the technology-driven society of late XXI century into what they had now, with the discovery of rifts into other realities. These rifts, or passages, allowed people to cross into these realities but also allowed monsters to enter our world.

Robert remembered an incident nearby, where some supermarket clerk stumbled into an extremely dangerous passage. He almost died and the authorities kept the area locked down to this day. Allegedly, people were reinforcing the defenses and preparing to send people through the passage to colonize and exploit the natural resources on the other side of the passage. Some of the top clans were fighting for slots and permits to do so.

It was all way above his pay grade. He kept reading and finished the history part. Now came the juicy details. The energy from other dimensions seeped into ours and changed when interacting with natural matter. The most basic form of that energy were wisps, agglutinations of energy that floated in a parallel dimension.

"Huh. So, the concept of parallel dimensions isn't that alien to us," Robert mused aloud. There was a chance his liminal void wasn't exclusive to him. But if it was consistently timeless across its entirety and everyone who entered was stuck in the same moment, they entered no matter how long they stayed in there, then the odds of two travelers finding each other was close to zero. By several decimal places.

Archhumans needed to harvest those wisps to gain the energy necessary to use their spells, techniques, and powers. Surely the energy would regenerate slowly but gathering wisps was the difference between waiting for days or even weeks and refilling the tank in just a few hours or even minutes.

To enter one's inner Ethercosm, the Archhuman needed to enter a state of deep meditation and introspection. Introspection was as easy to Robert as breathing. Keeping his mind still, not so much. But he had to master this most basic step if he wanted to climb higher and eventually soar.

He sat on the rug and crossed his legs, letting his breathing slow down.

After a long time trying, Robert finally found his way into the depths of his psyche. As felt himself sink into the floor, he descended into a dark place, illuminated by a blazing five-point star. it seemed hand-drawn, with sharp angles and geometric planes. The lines were straight and the facets shone so bright they would burn his eyes if he had any. Inside his Ethercosm, he had no physical body.

Robert had no idea why everything in the nether seemed cartoonish. Whether it was the impression humans had of them, or a way to make the eldritch look more palatable was anyone’s guess. Nonetheless, he knew his star was empty and the space around it had to be filled with the frames for his abilities, spells, and techniques. Just as the tempering manuals would reinforce his body, he had to reinforce his soul with these constructs to advance to the next stage.

The next step was to imagine some sort of exit around his Ethercosm. Instead of going back to the real world, that exit should lead him to the Netherecho. Why "Nether and not "Ether" like the first one? Robert didn't know the answer. The guide said he should envision a passage or doorway. He let his imagination do the job and in just a few seconds he had his exit. But its appearance was very foreboding.

"Why does it look like a dragon's mouth ready to swallow me up?" Robert asked.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

He knew the answer. It was what his mind produced. His best writing sessions were the ones in which he sat back on copilot and let his imagination wander. Most of what came out was nonsensical but he would, in his later days, review the stuff and hammer out a few of the inconsistencies before publishing.

But his earlier works... a shiver ran up his spine every time he remembered what he did while high on the Dunning-Kruger effect. He wanted to tear it all down and rewrite but he had so many new story ideas he had to keep moving forward. He left these available on his profile as a testament to how much his craft improved. It went from smelly crap to slightly perfumed crap.

And now it was all lost because he kept having these anxiety crises and couldn't even think about typing on a keyboard without triggering his panic attacks.

Before it could take over him, he dove into the mouth of the dragon.

On the other side, he was back at the hotel room.

"Hey, I have the good stuff!"

Robert craned his head and looked at the TV set, hanging from the wall. It had a cartoonish face of a stylized man with a top hat and a mustache on the screen. Again, most depictions of ethereal entities seen by humans were cartoons, for some reason. To make the eldritch look palatable to us, Robert thought.

The thing was a vestige. Not a Prime Vestige that could grant people powers but a lesser vestige. If wisps were Ethereal energy attuned to real matter, a vestige was a knot of energy that gained a rudimentary sentience. Vestiges were the lowest of the lowest in the totem pole of Etheric entities. They were weak and not really a threat. But if a vestige gathered enough power, it could evolve into something smarter, stronger, and deadlier.

"Who, me?" Robert pointed at himself.

"Yes, you. I have the 'gooood' stuff. The things you want to see but wants nobody else to know you do. You know..."

The TV was trying to be friendly but with one eye constantly winking.

"Are you talking about porn?"

It curled its line lips into a grin. "Yes, porn! Glorious porn! Fifty-four channels of naked people doing all sorts of things. Name your kink and I'll show it to you!" It boasted, going short of breath at the end. The TV vestige was... panting?

Robert had a hunch that it was the TV vestige who wanted to watch porn.

"I think I'll do it later. It's still day outside," Robert hedged.

"Well, if you want to see the morning news..."

"Later!"

"I'm so bored," the phone said, the keys lighting up to appear like eyes and a mouth. "Hey, why don't you order some room service?"

Robert tuned these vestiges around. At best, they had a child-like behavior, very self-centered and very selfish. They only cared about fulfilling their desires. Looking around, he needed to find Life, Time, or Void wisps to absorb. His star, as shiny as it was, was empty. He needed to fill it with energy from the wisps to start the process. Without fuel in the tank, even the best machines were useless.

He could see a few wisps going about their business. These were not conscious, however. The amount was fewer than the normal because the region was home to several Archhumans. As everyone and their mothers was trying to fill their stars and replenish spent energy, places with high concentrations of Archhumans had lower wisp count due to over-harvesting.

He could see air, water, and some other wisps of unrecognized affinities. The Golden Bard granted some very esoteric affinities and a wisp could attune to anything. He saw one that was probably a mattress or pillow affinity wisp. But no time or life ones. He would have to check out the Netherecho scenery at a place teeming with life, like a park. And even then, most of the wisps there would be tree, nature, or other affinities. As for time, he might have better luck in the liminal void.

Robert tried to trigger his power while in the Netherecho. Nothing happened. He conjectured he had to go back to the real world, enter the liminal void, and then access that part of the Netherecho.

He left his Ethercosm and opened his eyes. Moments later, the world faded to gray as he activated his power. Robert decided that he would go into the liminal void as often as possible, to split the time he had to stay there in the smaller chunks possible. Yet, it was a lot of time. He feared his mind would dissociate itself from the real world and he would become a denizen of the liminal void that only entered the real world for very brief periods of time.

He laid down on the bed, thinking the mattress was rougher and harder than it should be. He stood up and jumped. His bare feet felt like landing on soft polished rock. Bending down, he tried to squeeze the edge of the mattress. It was as hard as a chunk of steel. Just like the glass window of the shop, he couldn't affect the real world. More likely, he couldn't exert any force on the real world. Robert laid back down and did his best to fall asleep. The best way to spend time in this liminal void was unconscious. But he made a mental note to drag a bedroll and a pillow with him next time.

Robert woke up back in the real world. He took a deep sigh. He had no idea how long he slept after returning, meaning he was already accruing time in the liminal jail. Grumbling to himself, he took the backpack with his scrolls and lifted the mattress enough to count as carried by him. He went back to the liminal void. Setting the now-soft mattress on the real-world bed, he laid down and enjoyed his comfort. Letting his mind wander, it went back to the five hundred dollars a day fee he was paying.

Why do people pay for hotels? To have a safe place to rest. But Robert could rest in the liminal void and nobody (except for Mickey Mouse) would bother him. All he needed was his own mattress and bedding. Heck, now that he knew that objects in the liminal void were persistent, he could move his whole house there. It had no weather to worry about so he didn't need a roof.

Damn.

Why was he wasting money on a hotel?

The liminal void was everything he needed. If he made sure nobody saw him randomly teleporting around, he could set up anywhere so long he had twenty-four-seven access to the place. Robert sat up and tried to make his plans. First, he needed to make sure he would enter and leave the liminal void in the same spot, same position, and with the same clothes. He never knew if any cameras were recording him.

He would need furniture. He also needed to know if he could consume food and drinks in there. While he was fairly sure he didn't need them, he wouldn't spend days without these little pleasures.