Skylar contemplated the idea of death. If there was ever a decent time for it, this seemed to fit the bill, she thought, grimly amused.
Three Days Earlier
Entering the knife shop, Skylar Newsome couldn't help but ponder her late mother's likely disapproval of her peculiar hobby. Imagining her mother's penchant for frilly dresses and flowers, Skylar smirked inwardly. There was no denying it: her interests wouldn't have won any favor with her mom. But that was just how it was. With a growing grin, she strode toward the counter.
"Gunther! You got my package?" she called out to the burly man behind the counter, startling both him and the customer he was assisting.
"I do, Sky, though you can see I'm helping someone?" Gunther replied, his voice tinged with amusement.
"Oh? They can take a look at my stuff too; it's pretty cool," Skylar retorted.
Reaching beneath his counter—a task not easily managed at his height of 6'4"—Gunther retrieved a case. "What the heck is that?" the other customer asked, taken aback by both the size and weight of the case.
"That, my friend, is the 7-piece Red Mayhem knife collection. It's been on backorder for over a year," Skylar declared, her eyes sparkling as she opened the case. Inside, seven knives of various shapes and sizes gleamed.
"I see... I think I'll come back later!" the newbie declared, practically fleeing out the door.
"How many times are you going to scare off potential clients?" Gunther exclaimed.
"Who cares? You made a big commission on this order anyway. Besides, don't you want to see what these bad boys can do?" Skylar quipped as she turned to head to the back of the shop, where the tactical gym awaited.
Skylar was well aware that she was an 'odd bird', as her late father had once called her. Standing at 5'9", she was a lithe athlete with dark hair and eyes that many had described as unsettling. From as far back as she could remember, she'd been a fan of action novels and tactical warfare. She'd shed tears when American Assassin didn't get a sequel, and her college degree was in Film and Media Studies—an excuse, essentially, to watch as many action films as she could. She had fallen in love with knife fighting over the last half-decade, following her parents' passing, which left a void that visceral combat readily filled. The few friends she had didn't quite understand her; Gunther was the only one who got her. As a retired bodyguard, he had the experience and know-how to train her to take a hit and give as good as she got.
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In the tactical gym, Skylar opened the case again, her arms shaking with excitement, and began to pull out her new pride and joy. First, the M48 Liberator Trench Knife, including its spiked knuckle buster handle. Next, the Honshu Spartan Sword—a wickedly sharp short sword perfect for her mid-range reach. Then, the M48 Cyclone and Push Knife—twisted daggers designed to decimate opponents at close range.
"Isn't that enough?" Gunther grunted, clearly growing impatient with Skylar's slow display.
"Not even close!" she exclaimed, pulling out the next blade. This time, the Tactical Kama, styled like a short reaper’s scythe. "Saved the best for last," Skylar murmured, pulling out her two favorite weapons—the karambit and the axe. Holding the karambit in a reverse grip, she brandished the axe in the other hand and assumed a crouched fighting pose. Skylar grinned, excited to finally train with the weapons she'd been eyeing for a year. Film Studies wasn’t the most lucrative degree in the world, after all.
"Yeah, yeah, okay. Let me grab the practice gear—we won’t be using these to fight!" Gunther exclaimed. As he turned, ignoring Skylar's good-natured complaints, the floor began to shake.
"Whoa," Skylar exclaimed, quickly repackaging her blades. "What's going on?"
"No clue, kid. Let's go find out," Gunter replied, leading the way to the door. But just as he stepped outside, the floor disappeared beneath them.
"SKYE!" Gunther yelled, reaching back, but she knew she was too far. "See ya, Gunther!" she yelled, "It was fun!"
Summon Initializing...
Traveling...
Traveling...
System Assigning Class...
ERROR
ERROR
ERROR
Summon includes non-organic material - removing…
"No!" Skylar yelled, fighting against the monstrous force trying to rip the case away from her. "If I'm going to die, I'm doing it with my stuff!"
Summon attached to non-organic material...
ERROR
ERROR
System creating solution…
"Solution? What solut—" Skylar's scream was cut short by soul-rending pain that wracked her body. She felt as if she were on fire, every ion vibrating as she fell through the portal. Then, all at once, it stopped.
New (Unique) class created: Arsenal.
The System welcomes you to Zephyria.