What did I have in mind? I turned back to my window, clearing the line I had previously traced. I looked at it for a few moments, then said, “Well…everyone knows you go deeper-” Jeremy snorted at that. I gave him a suffering look, and he mimed zipping his mouth shut “-deeper, not broader, right? So if I focus on a single tree, I can really maximize my synergy. We can ignore this tree here,” I said, tracing the Bard path. It was almost exclusively centered around buffing others. Useful for a group setting, but pretty useless alone - and with very limited survival skills.
Al cleared his throat, his lips pursed.
"What?" I asked. Then I realized his class was Bard. "You're not seriously suggesting I take Bard skills?"
He shrugged. "I'm just clearing my throat over here."
I looked at him dubiously for a moment before continuing. "The Mage tree has good control skills, but too squishy, don’t you think?”
“I don’t know, man,” Jeremy said. “The Illusion skills look pretty badass, and the survivability isn’t terrible…”
“Now I know you don’t know what you’re talking about,” Al said with a snort.
Jeremy came back quick. “Oh, fuck off!”
“You’re gonna tell me to fuck off in my own man cave!” Al shouted, standing to tower over Jeremy.
Jeremy didn’t back down, though, standing up to square off. “You wanna talk like a dickhead, then get treated like one!”
I was fed up with their squabbling already, so I just shook my head as I walked away. I left the circle to go explore Null Space and get away from the sounds of their bickering.
As I wandered, I examined the skill trees closer. Like I had told them, I had pretty much discounted the Mage and Bard lines. Even the Illusion skills just didn’t have the survivability I needed given my one life in the game. The Rogue lines had some interesting possibilities with abilities like [Smoke Screen], [Second Chance], and [Spellbreaker]. But it relied upon reactive skills to keep me alive - I’d have to see hits coming, be on my guard in order to survive truly devastating blows. I looked at the Druid tree next. It was interesting, especially the shifting skills. It seemed the most versatile, with the ability to shift into a tankier form, or a more agile form as needed. But a closer read of the skill descriptions showed that you couldn’t change forms in combat. So, versatile, but not in the heat of the moment.
As I was walking, I saw an alcove off to the side of the path that was almost like an enclosed study nook. I popped into there and sat down so I could better focus on the complicated skill trees in front of me.
Each tree had seven tiers with three skills on each tier. You had to invest an increasing number of points to unlock each subsequent row. So the second row required three points invested to unlock, the third required eight, and so on, until 50 points unlocked the class specialization abilities, which were the class-defining skills. The flexibility came from the ability to invest up to five points into any single skill, increasing the power with each point. For example, in order to unlock the third tier, you had to allocate eight points. Those eight points could be five points in one skill, and three more into another skill, or you could do two points in four skills, etcetera. The question was, did I focus on a single tree, multiple trees, or dabble a bit in each one? That uncertainty was compounded by the fact that there was no ability to respec - once I locked in a point, it was allocated forever.
It left a ton of room for me to fuck my situation permanently.
There were over a hundred skills spread across the seven different trees, and I hadn’t had a chance to look through them all until now. I leaned my head back against the alcove wall and started combing through the skills one by one. The descriptions were filled with numbers - damage per second, required stat points, required level, cooldown period, range, cast time. After a few minutes, my eyes glazed over, the numbers losing all meaning.
I closed my eyes for a moment. This day had been one of the most draining of my life - I know, I know, dying and being reborn should have that effect on someone. But I hadn’t experienced my death - only the shitstorm of an aftermath - and I was fucking exhausted.
The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
My eyes were so heavy, but I forced them open, trying to find where I had left off in the class trees. The words blurred, and I blinked a few times to clear my vision. But they only grew heavier and heavier, until the effort of keeping them open was just too much.
----------------------------------------
I was back in the tower. My co-worker Jeff was standing there as The Silent Knight. He turned to me and waved, his giant metal gauntlet banging against his vambrace as he did.
“Hey, Ray,” he said, his voice cheery.
I looked around for a moment, my mind not processing things like it should. “’Sup, Jeff,” I said. Yeah, that sounded right. Then I remembered where I was and how I got here. “Heads up, this guy’s a real dick.”
The giant figure nodded his head, the gesture rattling his helmet. “Gotcha. Maybe we should throw him out the window.”
I froze for a moment. “What was that?” I asked.
He turned to me. “I said gotcha, thanks for the heads up.”
My brow furrowed, but I couldn’t gather my thoughts. I felt like there was a shroud over my mind, and every thought had to be forced through. Like there was a resistance in my brain. But I didn’t feel like fighting it, so I fell back on routine, moving to my cue as the client notification appeared.
I listened absentmindedly as the battle raged between Jeff and the client. I couldn’t for the life of me remember the client’s name. The sounds of the fight were strange, distant almost, with an echo effect - like I was hearing it from across an empty football stadium.
When the notification that Jeff had been slain appeared behind my closed eyes, I felt a distant relief. On to the next interaction - only five more for the day. I felt a shaking sensation on my shoulder, like the client was trying to wake me. I tried to open my eyes, but they wouldn’t respond. I tried harder, but it was like they were glued shut. Open, dammit! I started panicking, my breathing coming faster, harder. If I didn’t open my eyes, the client wouldn’t be happy. I’d get a bad review! Have…to…open…
The shaking intensified, and with it, my panic. I needed this job! Oh, god! Why won’t my eyes open!?
“Ray! Wake up, dude!”
I shot up, my head banging painfully against something.
“Ow, motherfuck-”
“Oh, shit! Ray, you okay?”
I opened my eyes, looking around in confusion, my head throbbing. Standing over me was a goddamn furry, a look of concern in her eyes. No, not a furry. I shook my head, and the fog began to clear.
“Jeremy?” I asked.
“Yeah, dude,” he said with a laugh. “Sorry to disappoint.”
I reached up to rub my head, and was shocked by the feel of my own long hair. “Jesus, I was having the worst nightmare…”
His eyes widened in surprise. “I didn’t even think you could dream here. Or sleep, for that matter.”
I shook my head in agreement. “Yeah, me either. Maybe it’s just me?” I asked uncertainly.
He shrugged in reply. “Yeah, maybe. Anyways, Al sent me to find you. We left you alone for a couple hours, but he started getting antsy and told me to go look for you.”
“A couple hours! Holy hell, it felt like I was out for only a few minutes.”
“Yeah, didn’t want to impede on your alone time. You know, in case you were exploring your new body or something…” he said with a suggestive arch of his eyebrows.
“What-no-what? I literally found out that I’m dead only a few hours ago, and you think the top of my list of things to do when I’m alone is…touch myself!?” I shook my head in disbelief.
Jeremy looked away. “I mean…it’s what I would’ve done,” he said under his breath.
I just shook my head and chuckled. Then the reality of the situation came slamming back into place.
“Shit!” I said. “I barely even looked at the skill trees. Tell me you guys made some progress?”
He pursed his lips, then shook his head. “No, we kinda butted heads for like 20 minutes, then said fuck it and played some Tekken. He cheats, by the way.”
I forced in a deep breath, trying not to let my frustration show. They hadn’t made any progress in two hours? Then the realization hit me - I shouldn’t be mad at them for not figuring out my progression path. That wasn’t their job.
“But we did sorta agree on one thing,” Jeremy added after a moment.
“Oh?”
“Yeah, we both agree you should hold off on allocating your skill points. It’s too important, and there are too many factors to make a decision in a couple hours.”
“So, what? I just walk around without any skills or stat points allocated?” I asked, my tone incredulous. “I’ll be sharkbait.”
He shook his head. “No, you should dump some stats. Get your endurance and vitality up to 200. That’ll put you close to on par with a max-level tank - not including the skills, obviously. This way, nothing will really threaten you outside of a group of level 60s in top-tier gear.”
I chewed my cheek for a moment, paralyzed by indecision. Should I just do what Al had suggested at the beginning and build a tank? I felt so lost…
“Come on,” Jeremy said. “Let’s go find Al. He seemed to be in a hurry.”
I nodded, stepping out of the alcove and following Jeremy back to the circled arcade cabinets.
When Al saw us, he stepped away from Tekken, his eyes looking pointedly at his wrist as if to check the time, even though there was no watch there. “What the hell took you so long? You guys get a quick make-out session in or what?”
“Fuck off,” I said in annoyance as Jeremy gave him the middle finger.
“As much as I’d like to, Ray, we can’t. You guys gotta get going.”