Evolutionary Studies, An Introduction - Darren Harlowe (B) Ph.D. - New Amsterdam

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The System brought evolution to our world in new and wondrous ways. The two primary routes are forced evolution and voluntary quest-based evolution.

Forced Evolution is the route by which most mutants have been altered by the environmental factors surrounding them. Evolution among mutants is a fascinating field that we will only touch upon in this class. There are several routes in which mutant evolution has been triggered, and all of them are outside of the normal evolutionary process which has happened on this planet for billions of years. Suffice it to say that mutant evolution follows a theme far closer to Darwinian evolution once the catalytic factors introduced into the natural environment have been deduced.

Quest-based evolution is entirely a thing of the System. The System assigns quests to individuals in order to motivate a person to evolve. These evolutions are based on level and rank and forcibly bring an individual closer to the pinnacle of perfection. The mode to evolve one’s species and reach the greatest heights is to advance one’s occupation levels.

Once a sufficient number of levels has been reached, the system will offer a quest based on what it perceives to be a deadly but passable challenge to the individual. The culmination of this quest will then evolve the species of the individual.

Advancing an occupation is difficult. Experience is needed to enable one to advance, but the cost of each advancement resets the counter to zero, and then the cost of the next level is much greater. The higher the rank of the occupation and the price increases even more.

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I trudged home towards the city. A pair of scavengers moved to accost me, but I think the smell and amount of gore covering my pants, hands, and most of my face deterred them. I needed to wash my whole self. I needed to get clean anyways. The weight of killing a man sat heavily on me.

Inside the city, I stopped at the bounty station outside the guard station. The old building was once a drive-thru fish place, but now the signs had been replaced. A five-pointed star badge mimicking the badge worn by the local constables was painted on the window. I walked to the drive-through, and an officer came out and counted the tails I was there to turn in. Rotters had bounty too, a thousand credits for a left hand, or equivalent. No one turned these in, as that meant carrying a Rotter’s hand around.

Five thousand six hundred credits slid into my account, enough to keep me going for a while. Lina had a good job and got paid 300 per day of work. Not that either of us really needed money. Tukey was rich and was free with his credits. He had also raised us both to be strong independent people. Relying on him for everything was out of the question.

Outside our tenement, I borrowed Davon’s hose, sprayed off the gore, and sluiced myself in the ice-cold hose water for as long as I could justify. She looked at me, shook her head, wrinkled her nose, and helped me get the chunks of rat and Rotter off the back of my legs.

Mental Note: Get Davon something nice and keep a change of clothes and some plastic bags at her place.

She didn’t ask about the how or why, and I didn’t want to share. She knew me well enough to see that I was emotional but not ready to share. Dripping through the halls, I went inside my apartment. Tukey let me in, I could phase through the door, but we didn’t display our variant nature to the world all that much.

Tukey took one look at me and rolled into the kitchen. I trudged, dripping, to the shower and laundry. I sat under the hot water till I was physically clean. I scrubbed myself three times till I was raw. My regeneration kept me from staying raw, however. Afterward, I headed to the kitchen. On the table was a bottle of real whiskey and two glasses, and a note for me to join Tukey in the workshop when I was ready.

I took the bottle and glasses into the workshop. Tukey set aside the technical manual he was reading and pointed to a stool. I sat.

“You alright, Izzy?” He asked, concerned.

“Not really,” I replied, pouring two fingers into each glass.

Tukey eyed the pour but shrugged. He took one, and we clinked glasses. “Care to tell me about it?” He asked after taking a satisfying sip.

I tasted mine. Rich and dark, it burned down my throat and churned my empty stomach. “I killed a Rotter today,” I said quietly.

“Okay.” Tukey said, “What’s so bad about that?”

“I killed a person, a real person. Not some animal, but a person.” I said forlornly.

“Debatable, but I see what you are saying. This was your first time killing a person. That is a big deal.” Tukey said, trying to empathize.

“I was defending myself. I didn’t want to kill him.” I said, grief and guilt starting to bubble up in my throat.

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“It is a hard thing to take another person’s life. It should be significant and not a little thing.” Tukey said seriously. “It changes a person, a little bit of you dies each time you do it.” He continued. “You shouldn’t take it lightly, and I see you aren’t. That’s good.”

“Good, how? I feel terrible.” I said, looking him in the eyes for the first time. He had tears in his own eyes to match mine.

“My boy, if you don’t feel it each time, you become a monster. I didn’t raise you to be a monster. If the path you choose is one of fighting, you need to be prepared for the consequences. These feelings and the fact that death waits for you on your doorstep is another.” He said, taking another sip.

The whiskey scoured my mouth and throat, warming my belly. “I just feel guilty. I could have let him take the tails.” I said.

“Why don’t you tell me about it? The whole story?” He said, not understanding the context.

So I did; I told him about hunting rats and then my encounter with the Rotter. He nods and makes the appropriate noises to keep me talking the entire time. By the end, our glasses were empty, so I refilled them.

“Sounds like an issue we need to do something about,” he said.

“What can I do about this?” I asked.

“There are a few things. The first is to get good and drunk. That helps a tiny bit. The second is to forgive yourself. If you hadn’t killed him, he would have come after you, and then things would have gotten really bad real quick. Lastly, there is a technique I’ve used over the years that helps some.” He said evenly.

“What’s this technique?”

“Close your eyes.” I did. “Now picture the face of the Rotter.” I did. I had a hard time not throwing up there and then. The whiskey was not playing nice on my empty stomach, nor were the feelings I was having. “Now picture the image growing darker and shifting to black and white.” I tried, and it took me some time and Tukey waited patiently. After a minute, I nodded. “Now take that image and push it away, make it smaller and further away. He waited a moment before continuing, “Keep pushing it away until it is really small and tiny. Say to it, ‘I forgive you.’ And make it disappear.”

I whispered, “I forgive you.” Then caused the image, the tiny speck so far away, to be gone.

“Now, before you open your eyes, say ‘I forgive me’ and mean it.” He instructed.

“I forgive me,” I said and felt the weight on my chest lift a little bit. I felt it lighten enough to breathe again.

“Wow, that really helps,” I said, tears rolling down my face.

“Yeah, it helps. It will never go all the way away, but you can forgive yourself and move on.” I finished my second glass of whiskey, and so did Tukey. I felt the world spin a bit as I stood.

“Now go get some sleep. That whiskey should help.” Tukey said as he dismissed me. “I love you, kid, you’re going to be all right.”

Tukey’s words carried me back to my room and the old leather couch. I stumbled into it and lay down. Sleep was not far away.

I woke up late at night, two am or something. I ate a snack but kept quiet. The day before had been traumatic, and exciting, and all things in between.

I checked my stats.

Name: Izack Hopper

Species: Human, Variant (E)

Occupation: Survivor (F) Level: 3

Occupation: Explorer (F) level: 2

Basic Statistics

Strength: 32

Toughness: 28

Dexterity: 29

Agility: 29

Intellect: 23

Cleverness: 34

Perception: 24

Presence: 20

Free points 0

Available Experience: 13112

Experience to Raise Survivor to level 4: 4000 Spend Experience [Y/N]

Experience to Raise Explorer to level 3: 3000 Spend Experience [Y/N]

Whoah, 13k experience from one day? I did some math and figured out that the Rotter was worth about 7k, more than all the rats combined.

I spent the 4k to raise my survivor to 4, then another 5k to raise it to 5. I felt the stats apply and felt better. The free points I left unallocated for now. I felt the notification hit for something new.

***Ting***

[Occupation: Survivor has reached level 5, skill available]

Please select one skill.

1. Rapid Recovery (F)

Cost: None

Duration: Constant

Recover stamina and willpower at +50% rate, and recover hit points at +10% rate. Cannot regenerate lost limbs or total destruction of physical form.

2. Danger Sense (F)

Cost: None

Duration: Constant

Gives a warning of impending danger. Time of warning is 0.01 seconds x perception.

3. Heightened Resistance (F)

Cost: None

Duration: Constant

Increases value of resistance trait by +50%

Only three skills to choose from, but these were free. Each had its own benefits that would be useful. Right now, my recovery rates were acceptable, so that one was out. Regeneration also covered much of that, so it was somewhat redundant. Maybe it would combine with my regeneration and upgrade it? I didn’t know for sure, so that one was tabled.

Danger sense seemed like a no-brainer, but a quarter of a second to react wasn’t much. I could see this being extremely useful if I dumped all my free points into perception and got more than half a second to respond. But what sort of warning?

The last was a bit more difficult to understand. I clicked on my Resistance under the Derived Attributes.

Resistance: 25 (Average of Toughness+Intellect+Presence) This is a measure of how well the user can resist on-going effects. This included damage-over-time (DOT) physical effects, mental trauma, and other psychological effects. It also measures physical resistance to environmental effects, toxins, chemicals, and other non-direct damage effects.

I then clicked down to my Willpower as it was a direct extension of my Resistance attribute.

Willpower: 174/250

Willpower measures the mind’s ability to withstand mental attacks, psychological trauma, and emotional attacks. Willpower is also used to fuel some skills and abilities.

The words that stuck out were psychological trauma and emotional damage. Were guilt and internal turmoil a function this could resist? I decided to find out. I dumped four free points into presence and four into intellect. I felt the guilt and internal pain reduce as my resistance and willpower went up. I selected the skill of Heightened Resistance. And felt my resistance shoot up to 42, and my willpower got to 415. The guilt and weight from killing a man slid away, reduced by a significant amount. I also felt the lingering effects of the alcohol disappear, both inebriation and impending hangover.