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Class Collector: Survivor's Fall
Chapter 1: The End Already?

Chapter 1: The End Already?

The cell door slammed closed with a loud metallic clang. Fortunately, the inside of the cell was too dark for Greg to see the odiferous liquid he had planted his hands into. Standing up and rubbing his hands off on his vest, Greg tried looking around.

I’m speechless! Fortunately, not thoughtless. Deactivate Ranger class, Activate Thief class. Greg could feel his grin splitting his face while the footsteps disappeared down the hallway. I don’t need the hawk eyes passive as much as I need lock picking.

Sneaking to the door, Greg laid his hand where a handle would be, activating the remote lock picking of the basic thief class. This might take a minute.

Still, I can’t believe President Newhour is an advanced class, and a Dark Lord. I can’t even activate advanced classes yet. And the effer was able to notice me and send people at me from that podium. I bet it’s a strong class. Not like I care about special interests running the government, no reason for an apocalypse to change the way Washington works, Greg laughed to himself. Besides, this is probably the most rare class I got from a political figure.

With a small pop, the door opened. Really smiling now, Greg walked out of the door for a gloved fist to fly into his face.

“It won’t be that easy, bug.”

***

Coming to with a start, Greg found himself in a plush chair next to a roaring fire in a room that screamed opulence. “President Newhour, I presume?”

“What gave it away?” came a voice with a southern drawl.  Newhour walked in front of Greg, the flames in the fireplace darkening into black.

“Typical politician, living in the lap of luxury while the common man struggles. Though the flames changing colors is new.”

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

“You going to try and pretend you didn’t see my class, Greg? And pretend you’re some equal rights proponent?”

“I have done some scout work for the government, but my class isn’t much of one for identifying people.” Greg raised his hands, lifting his eyebrows, looking the picture of innocence.

“I know we’re all still figuring out this class stuff, and this new,“ Newhour listed his fingers in quotes “RPG system we live in now. But while you’re a mystery, my class lets me know when I’ve been discovered before going public.”

“I really don’t know what you’re talking…”

“Greg, don't interrupt me now.” Newhour smiled, leaning towards Greg. “You have one opportunity. You going to accept my brand, leave your old class behind and take on being my secret cultist?”

“Wait now, I have a rare and awesome class…”

Newhour’s hand grabbed Greg by the collar, “the correct answer was yes, son,” and Greg was launched with a surprising amount of force towards the flames. “Can’t kill you, but who knows where that goes.”

Switch survivor to primary class. Greg felt the passives click into place in full force right before he plunged into the flames. Surprisingly to Geg, there was no fiery pain and suffering. Status messages started popping up in the bottom of Greg’s vision.

Demonic Soul flames successfully resisted.

Demonic teleport to lower planes successfully resisted.

Error - Teleportation canceled in the Ether. 

Recalculating…

Cultivation subclass compatible energy node detected, absorbing energy…

Ether corruption resisted.

Ether corruption? The air does burn here, but not in a hot way. Why is the air spicy? Turning his head, Greg could only see a purpley-blue haze all around. I need out.

New coordinates calculated. Do you wish to teleport…

“Yes, teleport me somewhere safe, please!”

Confirmed. Coordinates accepted for the closest fully integrated planet.

“You mean Earth, right?”

Blue light surrounded Greg, blinding him.

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