The barrier I escorted Carl through earlier was flickering rapidly, green and yellow sparks flying.

It separated normal citizens of the World from us Observers and Seekers that helped maintain the System’s balance. Ancient places of power on which the World, big W, could arbitrate rules and settle disputes. We found the lost, regulated major conflicts, chaperoned wargames between nations to satisfy the need of some races for violent outlets before things spilled over into complete chaos.

Most importantly, Administratums were also responsible for facilitating resurrection.

Yet, now we were gathering outside as the entire city of Greenharbor seemed to be coming to us for answers.

+Status update! Recursion buff at two stacks.+

The combined crowds had two distinct reactions.

Nearly everyone flinched or doubled over, lost their balance, looked around with confusion, a few tried holding in their lunch. Elves conjured up protective magic on accident, activating as a Passive for what I understood. Orcs went into heightened states, wild eyes and adrenaline looking around for opponents. Beastfolk stifled shifting completely into their animalistic forms with the same concerning alertness, their clothing situations a source of embarrassing humor in any other context. Other intrinsically magical beings had traits of their heritage, born into or acquired willingly, vividly reacted to this shared effect.

The Humans?

I felt strange.

Good, even.

So did the others near me and across the plaza. Above the din, us Humans were trying to console, talk down neighbors, friends, strangers. Some were attempting to get away from the increasingly concerning levels of unintended aggression towards an invisible threat.

+Status update! Recursion buff at three stacks.+

Another wave. Everyone, everywhere. Panic, confusion, bewilderment.

I felt someone bump into me. It was Koliastrazana, proud Level 51 Fighter Dragonknight, fingers tightly grasping my arm as some unknown force acted on her and everyone around me.

Her 51 turned into 1 for a moment. Fighter text disappeared, the fury gauge, letters unintelligible for a heartbeat before reverting.

“Liastra, make a group with me. I can’t do it as a Seeker,” I hurriedly whispered to her. It was as if she didn’t hear me, yet I found it somewhat endearing I was fit to be a fence post for her to lean on.

Obsidian scales were creeping along her arms like a sleeve, hands turning into claws fit for rending flesh, deep orange irises beginning to glow. Getting hot to the touch. Not good.

“Observer Kolianastrazana!” I urged once more. No response even as I shook her. Turning her in my arms, I leaned down into her face and shouted. “Ana!”

“How dare-!” she snarled, whatever hold this concerted Spell effect had on her interrupted. She blinked, lip quivering in fear as the gravity of the situation penetrated the fugue. “What? What did you say? Jericho, what’s going on?!”

“Invite me to a fireteam with y-, a group! A squad, no, party. What the hell is going on?” I fumbled over my tongue.

+Status update! Recursion buff at four stacks.+

+Group invitation received from Observer Koliastrazana veni Tiberios vici Yanakuronikalavei. Accept Y/N?+

+Gr1@#-, F1r3T-, Squ4-, Party created with Observer Koliastrazana veni Tyveros vici Yanakuronikalavei, Level 51 Fi-Fi-F-, A5sa-, Level 1 4ss4-, Level 51 Fighter Dragonknight.+

“Jeri, what is a Support? Why are you not the correct level?”

We locked gazes with each other.

+Status update! Jericho Amontillado’s Recursion buff at five stacks. Gro-, Fire-, Grouteam member update, Koliastrazana’s Recursion debuff is at five stacks.+

This must be what Hell is. Nothing made sense. To me, to my partner, to anyone in the plaza.

+Restlessness is discontent — the first necessity of progress. However, even with this progress we grow indifferent to these wonders of yesterday. Cheap imitations of the extraordinary accomplishments of Mankind rise up, copies perverted by the touch of this thing the glorified janitors of your World call a System.+

The words reserved for the Status and Alert and Announcement of the day-to-day events of our lives were subverted with what I could only imagine was some type of sanctimonious zealot. A window I couldn’t dismiss from my vision no matter what I did. Everyone paused, mass hysteria threatening to boil over.

+No longer. We shall no longer be subservient to this World’s inability to adapt, we will cast aside these shackles and forge a new prosperity in our image!+

+Buff/Debuff at six stacks! Warning, Strategic-grade Skill Voll-, Catapu-, 3arrag-, 30mb4dment targeting your immediate area of effect!+

Even more cause for concern. Strategic-grade could affect at least the entire Administratum, the district surrounding it, even worse perhaps the entire city.

“Seekers, Observers, what is going on?!” and various other lamentations were directed towards me and mine. We couldn’t assuage their fears. A commotion began somewhere towards the edges of the wide open area, cries of pain and outrage and the grinding of wagon wheels.

+The Terran Arcanocracy has cracked the source code. We will remake the World. A faster, better, comprehensive World with us as its rightful administrators. No longer will we wait for what the current Administrata considers a tolerable existence! We can even begin to find a way back to our Otherworlds!+

+Buff/Debuff at seven stacks! Warning, Strategic-grade Skill Bombardment targeting your immediate area of effect!+

“Jeri, what do we do? The Narcs are behind this but how do we stop it?” Koliastra whimpered, doubling over in pain from what I could only assume was a crushing weight constricting around her very soul at this point. “Why aren’t you affected like me?!”

Her status was now wavering between Level 1 and 51 rapidly, Class text a completely unreadable font. I could only imagine what mine appeared to her, Support or something?

+Naturally, we must begin an updated System with a clean slate. A reset in order to usher in a new golden age.+

+Eight stacks! Warning!+

“What-, I don’t-!” It was my turn to reel, stomach churning at whatever terrible thoughts my mind conjured. It was incomprehensible. Impossible.

The System was slow, yes, but it had adapted.

Why would someone change what worked? Why alter the way things had always worked for our World? It was perfect. No wars, no famine, where everyone and everything eventually found a place?!

+Recursion buff/debuff at nine stacks. Zero Day approaching. Experience boost permission granted.+

+Welcome to what I shall call…+

A terrible sound crested the rooftops, accosting my ears like a Banshee’s Wail but with no magic behind it. Something finally to fear and replace worrying over this growing potential while my friend seemed to be losing herself to whatever this Recursion was.

+…the Millenium Reset.+

It was some kind of spear. Javelin. The size that made sense for a Giantkin to throw. Fire provided its momentum. A trail of thick white smoke indicated it had come from the southwest. From the ocean? Across it, maybe even a ship?

The… missile detonated.

The System called it a missile as the blood in my veins froze.

+Recursion has reached ten stacks.+

+Status warning! You are incapacita-!+

///

+Status update! You are no longer incapacitated. Electromagical Flux debuff about to expire.+

My body felt like I’d been reamed with a lightning bolt. Everything hurt. Coughing, patting myself, I struggled to sit up. I was waking up first with others that had similar Resilience ratings. There was a weight across my legs making it even more difficult.

A woman. Hair iridescent and almost reflecting a rainbow in the dying sunset.

Her info badge read Level 1.

Assault Class.

“Ana? Ana?! Please tell me you’re alive!” I shouted, jostling her still form. A disgruntled moan was what I got in return, then a cough that released an acrid scent of Draco breath. “You can chastise me later, you overgrown lizard, get up!”

“N-not my… my ma-… mat-, nhm, what’s going on?” Koliastra grunted, looking around. Her normally bright citrine eyes were a muted amber. Obsidian scales accentuated her face, quietly adorned her neck and hands as she stretched. They weren’t receding.

Similar scenes were playing out around us. Humans were helping their friends up or backing away in fear of the fact they hadn’t been affected similarly.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

+Warning! You are entering a warzone. Player versus Player enabled, rewards increased. Recursion buff/debuff applied for the next 10 minutes. Experience boost refreshed duration for the next 1 hour.+

That wasn’t right. The Administratum was practically holy ground, consecrated after a fashion to enforce safe haven, cities a type of sanctuary! Necessary for people suffering resurrection sickness after revival from traumatizing injuries!

Then I realized. The field was gone. The stone felt dead, no longer thrumming with the familiar ancient magic.

“Hey! Get out of the way, we have wounded!”

My attention was grabbed by a Minotaur clad in merchant’s attire. They were angrily attempting to push away a black caravan wagon which had taken up residence in the main thoroughfare leading to the city center. Additional ones similarly blocked other district roads from what I could see.

A knot formed in the pit of my stomach. The emblem on its side. Black sword. Crown dipped in red. Conquest taken at blade’s edge.

Warzones were special in that they obscured one of the taboos of our World. Killing other sentient beings granted the most experience points for Leveling purposes and the fastest Skill proficiency training. I couldn’t make out my own Status at the moment, but given all that had been going on…

It didn’t take a strategist to realize that we and half the city were boxed in.

Time dilated as heavy gears rattled and groaned. One of my Passives activated, Danger Sense, severe threat directed at me, my group.

The side of the black and crimson wagon clanged when it hit the ground. Eight-person group – Fireteams or Squads – sprang into motion, six wielding long-barreled irons of a make I had not seen before, while two stayed within.

Thankfully it seemed my Farsight feature hadn’t disappeared completely, giving me a slightly more informed view of these newcomers. Terran Arcanocracy proudly painted across their garments, adventurers or members, uniforms. Military? Same equipment, same helmets, same scarf-balaclavas obscuring everything except eyes covered by glass – ballistic lenses – like mine. No, not like mine. Armor that provided minor bonuses to Firearm accuracy and ranged Defense rating. Mine were just cosmetic to prevent Koliastra’s aerial antics from popping my eyeballs out of their sockets.

Level 1 people clambered out with class labels of Assault, Support, Specialists, arranging themselves on either side of the transport they came in, giving the center wide berth. One of them with a symbol of rank bashed in the Minotaur’s face with the butt of their long iron – standard quality carbine rifle – before joining the others in racking bolt mechanisms, bringing stock to shoulder…

Chk-chirk. Krik, krik, krik, kreek.

A chilling noise from within the wagon.

Two Narcs bearing the label of Heavy were feeding a long string of cartridges over a large tube.

No, it was a long bore.

I’d never seen something like it before. It was a Firearm yet not so large to be considered a proper Cannon as on a ship. No way it could be carried by one person. The rounds were thin but twice as long as my six-iron’s ammunition. So many in a belt, being fed to this strange and terrible beast that I couldn’t comprehend.

The System was still working, feeding new facts and details that now felt altogether foreign. Was this what an Otherworlder felt when they arrived here where I called home, took for granted?

The turret swiveled back and forth in our general direction, making sure it could sweep the area without obstruction.

Krick, krac-clack!

The Heavy charged the gun’s loading mechanism as their partner took up their own rifle.

“EVERYONE, SHIELDS, TAKE CO-!” someone screamed.

It might have been me.

No, definitely me.

I pulled Koliastra with me into a dive toward what little shelter the Administratum’s entrance afforded.

+Status warning! You are under Suppressing Fire!+

A continuous cacophony of belching fire directed the chaotic symphony of metal armor being shredded, masonry fractured into dust and chips, bodies running to only drop heavily to the ground. Shorter reports sounded off during the barrage of hellfire to pick off those that dared to resist or were missed in the initial opening number that was this dance of death and destruction.

I cried out in outrage, torn between gaining glimpses of the outside and scraping along the ground toward the Administratum’s threshold. The barrier was completely dead, only comfort was to crawl inside.

Someone, Human, another Seeker like me, outside affixed a shield to their forearm in an attempt to activate its protective enchantments. Runes and symbols lit up, faltered, a feedback loop of the item failing to activate knocking him back with a wave of force. Bewilderment was the last thing I spied before a bullet struck him in the shoulder, one more figure added to the mass of fear and terror.

Wasn’t sure who was lucky, those who tried to run or those that cowered on the ground. We were trying to crawl. At least, I hope Koliastra was crawling along with me and not because I was doing my best to drag her behind. There was only the one death spitter it sounded like, from that single wagon. Just small arms fire from the other Narcs maintaining a perimeter around us. Small mercy that its focus was on the crowds outside.

There were a few others. Saw Lyissa, dazed but not completely knocked senseless, ushering in people that had retained the willpower for self-preservation. Falling back, retreating into the concrete structure was the only logical solution to stave off oblivion and escape all that death before-

+Status update, you are no longer Suppressed. Electromagical Flux debuff expiring soon.+

My mind cleared. I almost wish it hadn’t. The gunfire was ongoing but it seemed a haze was lifted from my mind.

“I ca-can’t feel it, my fire, I can’t-, where is-“

Koliastra was beside me, shaking, muttering words, eyes unfocused and looking at nothing. I’d never seen her, let alone a being of her power, scared witless.

“Observer Koliastrazana, get ahold of yourself!” Hands gripping her arms, I shook the Dragoness gently. Something, anything to snap her out of the trance. It was just another status effect, had to be. “Liastra!”

“Heartfire, my wings-, why is this happening?!” she sobbed, ember-like tears rolling down her face that sizzled against my sleeves.

“Ana!”

+Fireteam member Koliastrazana is no longer Suppressed!+

My head snapped to the side. Blinking away stars, I noted the charcoal scales adorning the fist responsible for the blow. Lip curled in disgust, spark of rage I’d seen once or twice and thankfully not been on the receiving end of its full fury. And yet, the gentle strawberry hue of her Humanoid form occupied the majority of her skin.

“Did you not hear me the first time, Jeri?!”

“I did, but now’s not the time for cultural eccentricities! What do you remember? Do you know where we are?” I hastily changed the subject. Her Status badge had resolved into Level 1 Assault, no longer amorphous. “You should have taken my head clean off with that, but I’m still standing.”

The terrible barrage outside ceased. Some sort of melee, blades clashing and other gunfire replacing the din, the odd Spell or Skill activating. Looking all around, it seemed as if everyone else had been, what was it, reset to something altogether new?

I was surrounded by Level 1 individuals. Assault, Heavy, Specialist, Support. No subclasses, no Races, not even names. Thankfully their Health bars were green, denoting Friendly, but cause for concern was a lack of vibrant Teal. If theirs were gone then…

We’d lost our Administratum Observer and Seeker roles.

Couldn’t deal with that now.

“You are labeled as a Support. Level 1. Lyissa, Cordo, Perez, Maekita, are in, as your turn of phrase is used, a same boat. And I-,” she summarized, faltering as she reported on herself. “I am a Level 1 Assault. Gone. My Levels… reset.”

“I still have this Recursion effect on me but I have no idea what-, wait, how are you seeing the others from here?”

The four in question were scattered nearby. Why they had stayed with us as opposed to taking refuge further within was a mystery. Lyissa the High Elf appeared as a Heavy, formerly a Wizard who specialized in defense, recovering from the Suppression by keeping lookout down the hallway. Cordo was a scrappy Orc Bard who made a name amongst ourselves as a Bladesinger, but now he was reduced to whatever Specialist could mean. Perez the Otherworlder from Earth had signed on with us some time ago, advancing himself into a Barbarian path that allowed him to control voluntarily self-inflicted Lycanthropy as part of his Class Feature of Rage, sported the Specialist moniker. Maekita was one of the newest recruits, from Earth-Terra, but reincarnated as an Oni – apparently some cross between Demon and Giant similar to an Ogre but with violet skin and horns – and now considered an Assault.

Four Classes. Four Roles replacing everything we had ever known. All of our hard work through the System gone in the blink of an eye.

“My rapier is stuck,” Cordo grunted, cursing under his breath as he pulled on the handle to his weapon. It was a magic weapon that allowed him to direct it with his mind, by that nature able to cross with nearly all other materials without being shattered. “I am afflicted with something called a Flux.”

“As am I, I feel like I can’t even muster a candlelight,” Lyissa called back to us, breaking her attention for a moment. “Am I also-?”

“Yes. Level. 1. All,” a hoarse, guttural voice intoned. “Weak. Prey.”

We paused, carefully, calmly panning to Perez.

Bones were silently popping. His ears were lengthening, teeth grinding against each other at the same time his fingers lengthened into claws.

“Ana, are you still in charge?” I quickly asked. Not good, not good, Perez told us the convoluted journey it took him to realize his dream as well as the constant inner struggles.

“Y-yes, I am, but what does that have to do with anything?” the Dragoness replied, the same worry overcoming her traditional reaction to name-calling.

“Invite everyone. Everyone, we need to make a P-, par-, part-, par-, Fireteam. Together, see each other as allies, quickly!” I urged, rifling through my Magic Satchel. Her-, Herba-, Medical Supplies, something, anything that might help flittered through my mind as I rooted around the larger space inside the tiny bag!

Perez locked eyes with me. Heterochromatic orbs, one sea blue and I hope inferring the same idea I had, the other dark jade and growing with greedy hunger.

+Fireteam member added – Perez Karish, Level 1 ?Human? Specialist.+

+Fireteam member added – Lyissa Stormleaf, Level 1 High Elf Heavy.+

+Fireteam member added – Cordo Glassjaw, Level 1 Orc Specialist.+

+Fireteam member added – Maekita Suzuchika, Level 1 Oni Assault.+

+System error! Experience boost detected! Recursion debuff detected on Fireteam members! Cannot reconcile!+

I blinked as the last window scrawled across my vision. An Error? There had never been one, not in the hundreds of years of existing, and yet-

+Would you like to negate Recursion debuff on your Fireteam?+

“Yes!”

A collective weight evaporated off everyone’s shoulders. Cold comfort allowed me a tiny smile before Perez began growling, slamming a fist on the floor.

Triage. The word came unbidden. The Skill required a Triage Kit. I finally grasped something from my Magic Satchel.

“Mae, Cordo, hold him down!” Stars below, I hope I had something the Reag-, Reagen-, Triage Kit that might help with his condition.

The tall violet-skinned Oni barely into womanhood and the squat rust-colored Orc wrestled the Man who was dangerously close to ‘wolfing out’ on us. Mouth contorted, he tried snapping his jaws towards me as I neared. My hands were working just like they did when fixing a piece of equipment or taking apart a trap, casting a spell.

I didn’t realize that I had crushed up a sprig of Wolfsbane, somehow formed it into a pill, until I was pressing it to the ?Human?’s closed lips.

“Swallow it! Perez,” I urged. Ana and Lyissa watched in disbelief as I was practically poisoning the man with an herb notorious for its deadliness against Were-creatures. “Perez, I don’t know what I am doing, but I can tell you this is some kind of Healing skill. It will help! Swallow. It.”

The rational part of his soul latched onto my words. Relaxing for the briefest of moments, I shoved the Wolfsbane remedy into his mouth and held it closed. Cordo nearly flew backwards as Perez lashed out, Maekita keeping her stance firm long enough for him to take up position.

The last few spasms of resistance played out until the Were-cursed man gradually calmed. Maybe too calm.

+Fireteam member Perez is Incapacitated!+

“Fuck,” Maekita growled, sitting backwards with a heavy sigh. “He got that bite way later in life, right?”

“That is correct, my dear,” Cordo sighed heavily. “He floated the idea around Level 15 before even being allowed at 30 to attempt it. We had Pr-, Cler-, Supports nearby just in case the affliction went out of control.”

We all stared at the Orc.

“Cordo, what was nearby? Who?” Lyissa asked quietly, silver eyes wide. “Who was with Perez?”

“Cl-… Prie… Priessss-,” he struggled to repeat. “People who could remove the Curse!”

“Oh, stars below, it isn’t just me,” I murmured, sharing a glance with Ana. She shook her head violently. “They really did it. They cracked the System of our World.”

“No, no, no! I can’t believe that! I won’t! There’s no way!” she raged, flexing her dainty hands tipped with meek talons. Shrugging off her robe, spattered with dirt and debris, she threw the bundle at me to carry as was normal. “Watch, I’ll show you, I’ll show all of you that it’s a trick!”

Taking a deep breath, we could feel the heat sucked from the air around us. Coalescing around Koliastrazana, proud member of the Draco race, sparks and white-hot flame started to wash over her hands. Black scales which minutely accentuated her features were kissed by orange lashes, gradually turning a soft cherry red. Her hair began standing on end, braids coming undone, prismatic sheen beginning to spill down her figure. She was a proper Fi-, Figh-, Kn-, Dragonkn-!

Ana was a Level 1 Assault.

The flames of transformation were snuffed out as quick as blowing out a candle.

The Dragoness fell to her knees. Embers of orange mixed with water – actual tears – pitter-pattered on the ground. They didn’t even scorch the floor as they began to pool.

“No. No, nooo-, NOOOO!”