Hiro placed the box of supplies on the ground and turned on the floodlights, illuminating the interior of his fallout shelter. It smelt of mold and a hint of body odor. He used to air it out, but now…
His eyes traced over his makeshift altar adorned with photos of his family and his sprawling, jumbled map of Manhattan and the New York Subway System. He felt dirty and would have changed clothes if not for his buzzing phone.
Hiro crouched and looked at the scruffy, bearded man on the screen as text began to appear.
“Oh, great,” Hiro said as the implications were instantly clear to him.
“What’s it saying?” Bianca asked. “The text is scrolling too quickly for me to see.”
“Just give me a moment and I’ll explain everything.”
“Finale?” Hiro echoed.
Hire Hunters? Hiro thought as the horror of what he had been challenged to do came at him in waves. “When does the gate open?”
“That makes it worse,” Hiro said.
“What does?” Bianca asked.
“There’s no timer until the last day.”
More text from his Companion appeared: The avatar morphed into a highly stylized anime woman with excessive cleavage and big round eyes. More text took shape over her breasts.
“No, that’s distracting,” Hiro said hurriedly, feeling the pressure already from what the system had just revealed to him about the changes for the Second Interim.
Hiro’s heart skipped at that last part. “Just… just a black screen with text,” Hiro said. “I don’t want an avatar.”
The avatar disappeared, replaced by text.
Roulette Skill: {Terminal Lucidity}
Grade: A
Description: Bill Bryson once said, “We have become so attached to the idea of convenience that we will put up with almost any inconvenience to achieve it.”
Yet Bryson, clever as he was, never met Alexis Carrel, a French surgeon at the Rockefeller Center known for growing the world’s first immortal gremlin heart, which later destroyed much of Central Park after mutating into a semi-cognizant blob that took the National Guard to put it down.
Carrel’s confidence in creating an immortal gremlin heart stemmed from a side effect of an undiagnosed case of the infamous Turkey Flu. Kept secret for years by the US Government, Turkey Flu was later weaponized during the Cold War against Belarusian forces through Operation Plaguesgiving—locally known as the Feathered Pestilence, or Зараза з пёрам, which was known to produce bouts of extreme Terminal Lucidity.
Now, Survivor, you have it.
The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
You will both love to hate and hate to love this Roulette Skill, which will grant you extreme moments of clarity, but only for a short window. It will triple your speed and strength and may even give you flashes of the immediate future. You could be granted a sudden cognitive surge, amplifying your problem-solving skills, and you might even be able to warp reality with it.
But probably not.
More likely, by using this Roulette Skill, you will experience extreme fatigue and false positives, including misleading visions, illusions of success, and intense migraines with aura. There is even a chance for stat degeneration. The effects last up to sixty seconds in combat, and the cooldown time is one hour.
Care to roll the neural dice? It could turn the tide of a fight—or leave you convulsing on the ground as what’s left of your world crashes down...
“What a fucking shitty Roulette Skill,” Hiro said, another thought striking him: The Doom System will absolutely force me to use this. He let out a deep breath. “Fine.”
His single word contained a multitude of emotions—trauma mixed with sheer determination. I will get through this; I will make it to the end.
Hiro’s eyes drifted to his family tree. Was he doing this for them? No, not just them. For everyone—from Monica to the other Survivors who had died. For hope itself. For humanity.
“I’m not the main character,” he said aloud. Or am I? he wondered. Are we all main characters?
Hiro scanned his stats and focused on the important part.
Hiro Johnson
Level Nine
Current Title: Backseat Philosopher
STR: 1.4 [+0.5 Roulette Boost]
STA: 1.8 [+1 Roulette Boost]
DEX: 2.8 [+2 Roulette Boost]
REG: 3.3 [+2.5 Roulette Boost]
MIND: 4.1 [+3.5 Roulette Boost]
Soul Cash: 1300
Followers: 12,943
Marks: Butcher’s Mark
“Backseat Philosopher?” Hiro asked, noticing that data for City, World Survivors, Monster, and Hunter Counts was now missing. “I have the title because of my Roulette Skill, {Terminal Lucidity}, right?” He felt what he would later describe as a surge of brainpower. He couldn’t quite feel the synapses firing and connecting, but it certainly seemed like it. “The Doom System has made me smarter.”
“Do what?” Bianca asked.
“At the expense of my Strength and Stamina. Yet my Dexterity is higher this time around. My Regeneration, too.”
“What are you saying?”
“My stats. I’m smarter now.”
Hiro popped open the wooden box to find glowing Survivor Tenders. There was also a metal water bottle.
“I don’t remember those normally being bright,” Bianca said. “The jug of water is bright, too.”
Hiro’s stomach grumbled. He ate one of the Survivor Tenders, tossed another to Hachi, and returned his focus to his Companion.
Hiro glanced at Bianca’s shield, which rested against the box of supplies, her tentacles idly twitching. “What?” she asked.
“Not you, then…” He removed the teddy bear from his backpack and saw its updated description.
Legendary Item: {Chronokuma}
Grade: S
Description: Buying a Cybertruck for celibacy maintenance was all the rage until it triggered a tainted version of Lumiere’s Law, leading to bouts of toxic nostalgia and manic chest-beating across the Gulf of America. This sentiment changed entirely once Chronokuma became a living creature—a Teddy Ruxpin horror no chibi aficionado could embrace.
Now, that problem is yours.
Chronokuma’s time-traveling capabilities will be more useful during the Second Interim, but you must feed and care for your new “child” to utilize its powers. The more Chronokuma likes you, the better your chances of survival. A baby sling might help keep it comfy, and you should probably name it, but that’s up to you.
Welcome to parenthood, Survivor.
“Oh no,” Hiro groaned as the teddy bear moved. “You’ve got to be—”
The bear’s black eyes fixed on him and began to sniffle before bursting into tears.
“It’s alive? Awwww! It’s like a living Labubu. So freaking adorable. Rock it or something,” Bianca said. “Fine, I’ll help.” She grabbed the bear and reached for a Survivor Tender with one of her fuzzy tentacles. She fed the bear, placating the crying toy. “Ha! It was just hungry. Also, why am I feeding a teddy bear again?”
Hiro let out a deep breath and explained the situation, including his new ability.
“So you’re super smart and your new power could be based or it could leave you shit-faced?”
“Yes, something like that.”
“And the bear. We have to take care of it. Taking care of it could help us.”
“It could.”
“It could also cry, alerting enemies.”
“Also that. There’s more. I have to eat more this Interim, and our food will slowly be poisoned unless we spend Soul Cash.” The smirk on Hiro’s face was new—one of understanding. What point is the Doom System trying to make?
“So it’s like a tutorial,” Hiro said as Bianca rocked the teddy bear.