[Player Log Start!]
[Player: Jared Caliber]
[Level: 1, Sub-Level: 01]
He was in dire straits, locked in a tiny cell in that ramshackle house. People sometimes walked by, but none lingered long enough for him to get his hooks in. He tried to catch the person who was meant to be giving him food or water, but he passed out before that happened.
The situation seemed hopeless at this point because the clock just kept on ticking away.
[Status Effect: Air Poisoning!]
[8 hrs Before Death]
[(Status Effect: Air Poisoning is Slowed due to Reduced Exposure to the Poison.)]
Dammit. He’d lost a lot of time asleep.
He chewed bitterly on the scraps of stale bread, waiting for someone to call out to.
His chance finally came in the form of screeching hinges and rippling smoky light, as the entrance gate was thrown open. A cacophony of thumping footsteps sounded down the hallway, disorderly and uneven in attempted silence.
A small group of people must be approaching. He could snag one of the outliers if he looked pathetic enough. Jared hurriedly wove his hands through his hair to brush it out and spread grime across his cheeks.
Finally, the group turned the corner and walked past his cell. Except… it wasn’t a group.
[NPC has entered the Field!]
It was a singular, twisted amalgamation of metal that came together to form a spidery machine that scampered through the hallway, with a tiny person perched on top of it.
All his hopes were swept away. No way would someone like that take a break to listen to him. They were simply too high up to pay attention to him.
Against all odds, the machine ground to a halt, and the legs bent inward to lower the rider to eye level. She was a woman, dressed in overalls and a peaked hat. Wisps of blond hair framed her face, and a layer of coal dust over his skin.
“Hello, chap.” She nodded, her accent lilting. Rusty hazel eyes ran over his entire body in an analytical manner. “What has you thrown into the rotter?”
“No idea.” Jared replied, leaning backwards to try and mimic the same easy confidence she was giving off, “I was just looking around for supplies and stuff, and then they had guns pointed at me? Very intense.”
He was mostly fishing for information. Putting as much of himself out there as he could risk, and then waiting for her to give him a reaction he could build off.
Theatre was long gone by the time he had reached the age for it, but he had read books about improv and it sounded like something he would enjoy
The woman threw her head back and let out a laugh like cut glass.
“And you expect us to believe that?” She asked, tilting her head, “I admire the audacity.”
So, most people here are already affiliated with a group. He was such an outlier here that it was practically impossible.
“What would you know?” He taunted back, lolling his head sideways, just a shade too mocking.
“A far bit more than you, Thorny.” She replied, hands clamped onto the armrest. Good, she was getting angry. She must be important, then.
“Thorny?” He asked, opening his eyes innocently wide, “What’s that mean?”
“It means you have a tumblethorn accent.” She replied, “Wild child, are you? Ran away into the desert for a little giggle and now come crawling back to rejoin civilization? Well, sorry to break it to you, but the world has no space for you anymore.”
She refused to pull any punches, huh? He could respect bullheadedness like that. Verity had given him enough exposure to this type of aggression for him to know how to make her dance to his own tune.
“Seems like you’re talking from experience.”
A flinch. He’d been right. Now, he had to back off and endear himself to her. He was younger than her, and in a weaker position. Pushing her too far would only drive her away further.
“Sorry.” He ducked down and fixed his gaze onto the splintered floorboard, “You’re just the first person I’ve talked to you in hours. And I- I-”
She softened, backing off reluctantly. Pretended to be mean, but underneath, it was all fluff, “We are not so bad, if that is what worries you.” She offered up as a mild comfort, “You make yourself useful, and everything will come turn out alright.”
“I don’t have time to make myself useful.” He whispered, curling into himself in a calculated move, “I’m going to die in hours.” To highlight his point, he let out a raspy cough.
The girl gaped at him, “You were outside without breathing guards?”
He nodded, a pathetic little nudge. It didn’t take much to fake, as the minutes went down faster.
“I will rectify this immediately.” She promised, hands wandering over to the controls on her chair to propel the machine through the hallways again. The second she was out of sight; he heaved his hand into his pocket and pulling out the Card of Compulsion. A simple tap, and one of the green panels was appearing.
[Item: Card of Compulsion]
[Status: Active]
[Affecting People in Range: Lucky Paine (NPC) (20%)]
Damn, he hadn’t had the time to latch onto her as much as he wanted her to. Not even halfway to complete control. He needed to track time better during one of these conversations.
But finally, he had a name to attach to the face. Lucky Paine, huh? How unique.
He wished that he could pull out the Console and find her profile to analyze, but it was out of reach right now. Even without the Console, he had abilities of his own, and would manage to get through this. There were people surrounding him now for him to feed off and direct.
Lucky Paine would grow to be a great ally, he was sure about it. He would keep chipping away at her, feeling out her psyche and mannerisms, until he had complete control over her. Keep the meter filling up in the Card of Compulsion, until there was nothing left.
A beefy guard covered in camo cloth from head to toe stomped up. Jared backed away from the edge of the cell so that the guard wouldn’t try to stomp on his fingers. Instead of walking past, though, he came to a stop in front of his cell.
The food slot in the door clanked open, and a small white capsule slipped inside. Jared lay still, not wanting to appear too eager, before standing up to go grab the capsule. Woah, spots were filling his vision. The poisoning had done more damage than he had thought.
The capsule was white, and it held inside it a tiny bottle of water and some small clear pills. Did they expect him to drug himself?
“Poison cure for the smog.” The guard mumbled, standing stock still at the door, “A gift from Lady Paine.”
She really must be important, then. Jared had gotten lucky now that he had her at his fingertips. That was, however, if the guard was telling the truth. They could easily still be poison and the people he had been captured by were probably shitting themselves with laughter as he did the dirty work himself.
This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.
With no other choice, he opened the canister and picked up the two pills he had been given and swallowed it dry with little difficulty. The next few seconds were spent in nervous anticipation, until finally, the green panel appeared with a cheerful ding.
[Status Effect: Air Poisoning Cured!]
[Recovering Damage… (3%)]
For once, that sound effect wasn’t wildly out of place. Euphoria flooded through him, the force of it nearly knocking him backwards. No, wait, he was being knocked backwards. He was on the floor now. When had that happened?
[Exhaustion Taking Hold…]
[You are Losing Consciousness!]
He no longer liked that stupid panel.
The wooden floor was rough under his cheek, and his neck was stretched at an uncomfortable angle, and he wished he could move himself into a more comfortable position, but already his vision was blacking out. He let his head be pulled underwater this time without a fight, confident that he would come back.
[Recovering Damage… (29%)]
[(35%)…(54%)…(76%)…]
[Recovered Damage (100%)!]
And he did eventually fade back into reality, feeling grimy and stiff.
Warm, smooth metal pressed against his skin when he tried to push himself up, and that made him freeze in place. He had been moved at some point. And he hadn’t woken up.
Years and years in a world ravaged by fear and madness gave you some instincts. Especially regarding sleep and food and any other situation that left you vulnerable. There was no way he could have been moved unless there were external factors involved.
Factors like recovering from intense poisoning that was hours away from killing him. That would do it. Maybe he should cut himself some slack. It might turn out okay if he managed to get his feet back under him. Where was he exactly?
It was hot, he was on a metal countertop, and there were loud clanking sounds coming from all around him. Some sort of blacksmith area?
The alarm of that idea was so hard, his eyes snapped open, and he yanked himself upright. It was a small, tight space he had been crammed in, with a forge nearby, and pneumatic tubes surrounding them, all hissing with harsh pressure.
“Hello, boy.” Lucky Paine nodded to him from where she was working nearer to forge, “I offered to keep an eye out on you in case you attempted a little disappearing trick.”
“I wouldn’t do that.” Jared replied, dropping his gaze in deference.
“Let us pretend I believe you.” She smiled, making complete eye contact with him despite his desperate attempts to avoid it, “You have that look in your eyes. The kind that says you need to be watched. Very carefully.”
“Is that so?” He cocked his head, “And who’re you to say things like that?”
She leaned her hand backward to shift one of the legs of her spider-machine so that it pointed aggressively towards her chest, “May I introduce you to Lucky Paine, the greatest train engineer this side of the Merry Tracks. Bandits will try to pull one over me all the time, but it. Never. Works.”
Except until now, he grinned to himself and resisted the urge to check the Card of Compulsion.
“You’re keeping an eye on me, then.” He surmised, crossing his legs on top of the counter, “Why?”
“Because you happen to be a useful resource.” She answered, reaching for a hammer to continue whatever she was working on. When it turned out to be too far to reach, she unthinkingly got the spider-legs to do it for her.
“But I thought I looked like a rat?”
“Even rats have their uses. I did, after all.”
“You did?” He parroted, trying to sound surprised without coming off condescending. Of course, it was difficult, but if she wanted to have her ‘common ground’ reveal now, who was he to stop her?
“The Gunnersons are not known for their magnanimity.” She advised him, “But they are fair. If you are a valuable enough resource to them, they will give you whatever you need to survive.”
Silence rang between them. For once, Jared was thrown for a loop.
“What did you call them?” He croaked out.
“Gunnersons?” She replied with a frown, “Have you not heard of them before? Or, I suppose the more probable question is that have you heard bad things about them?”
“No, no, I’ve heard of good things. I worked with them before.” Before. In another dimension. Maybe this was simply a coincidence? Gunnersons was a very basic name. Two different groups of gun-toting hooligans could’ve come up with it, he supposed. This was the right answer, though, as Lucky straightened up and gave him a curt nod.
“Well then, you know what to expect. You fight their battles, you carry their loot, and in return, they shall give you the medicine, the weapons, and the machinery to keep you useful.”
“And when do I get the wicked spider chair? Is there a level-up option? Some achievement that unlocks it?”
She laughed, a raw bark in comparison to her glass-sharp chuckles before, “This?” She gestured at her chair, “This is my baby. I built it myself, with hard work and effort. No amount of bootlicking is going to get you one of these.”
Right, of course. She was an engineer. This was what she did.
“It’s impressive.” He looked at it for the right amount of time to come off properly impressed. She was placated with that, glowing brightly at the praise. Good, crisis averted. Now… he needed to find the totem and get out of here.
“I’m going to take a walk around.” He announced, “You mind if I do so while you work?”
She looked like she was about to argue, but then her eyes glazed back over, and she went slack.
“Of course.” Lucky agreed, with barely even a thought.
Jared heaved himself off the counter, wincing as the braces pressed uncomfortably into his skin, and limped out of the engine and into the rest of the train. His hand absently pulled out the Card of Compulsion, tapping on it to reveal the stats.
[Item: Card of Compulsion (Lv. 2)]
[Status: Active]
[Affecting People in Range: Lucky Paine (NPC) (100%)]
Hook, line, and sinker. He had an in.
He just had to be careful to not move too far out of range, or she might recover her memories full force and attempt to pummel him to death. Those spider-legs looked like they could stab deep. A shiver went up his spine at the thought and he forced himself to persevere.
Jared was looking for a Survival Totem. What was a Survival Totem? He wasn’t entirely sure. He just knew that it was important. Or it could easily be a very plain-looking object that he had to spend ages looking around for. No, no, that was needlessly cruel.
Think, he had to think. What would be considered important in this world. Something that would define this world. A key item.
It couldn’t be a train. It couldn’t be smoke. It could-
Wait a moment. The smoke! People needed a way to offset the smoke, using protective gear. Survival gear. That gear was probably a Survival Totem. Now, where to find one of these smog-resistant breathing pipes?
“Are you looking for something?” The cut-glass accent of Lucky Paine broke into his thoughts. He whirled around to see her many-legged chair scampering up to him, a stony look in his face. She had broken through the compulsion, even at a 100% full force. How? He definitely hadn’t let her slip out of his range.
“Sorry, did I run off?” He asked, running a hand through his hair, “I told you I’m looking for a breathing mask, didn’t I? It’s getting real muggy and I don’t wanna risk anything.”
Her eyes shifted, clearly suspicious. But he could see the cracks of doubt spreading over her face as clearly as any tapestry. He could tell the exact moment her resolve crumbled, and she put on a tired smile, “Yes, the smoke is toxic to everyone. Especially me. I carry around oxygen tanks in my chair if you require one?”
He nodded, not even trying to hide the desperation that was gnawing away at his gut. One of the spider-legs retreated into the chair, and returned carrying a heavy metal canister, with a tube connected to the lid that had a mask on the other end.
Jared fumbled a little as it was handed to him. Not only was it unwieldly, but it was also heavy. He wasn’t made for heavy lifting, unlike all his friends. That’s part of why he kept them around, even. He strapped the mask to his face and turned the knob ever so slightly to let clean, pure oxygen into his lungs for the first time in days. A victorious panel appeared in front of him, just as expected.
[Survival Totem Recovered]
[You have earned 2,000 Exp!]
[Return to Level 1?]
[{x} Yes { } No]
Lucky Paine guided him back to the engine, and he let her, keeping a tight hold on the canister. The panel floated alongside him, a perfect exit. She turned her back momentarily to stoke the fire, and he hurriedly pressed the [Yes] option, engulfing himself in the blinding pixels.
He saw her turning, staring, mouth wide open as he was dissolved into nothing, but at that point, he didn’t care. Jared had won the round, and he would never meet Lucky Paine again, anyways. What did it matter if she ratted him out to her fake-Gunnerson supervisors?
He rematerialized on soft, fertile soil and patchy grass. Instead of tripping over himself like all the other times, he managed to only have his knees buckle a little before he was straightening back up and looking around him.
The sky was green, the birds were chirping. Everything was right in the world.
[You have Entered Level One!]
[Realm: L-31 | ZombieWorld]
He looked around himself, only to find the area completely devoid of human life. Not even a single Zombie. How disappointing.
Even as he tried to keep up a nonchalant front, he could feel the nervousness building up inside. Had he been out of range for too long? Had Michael and Verity and all the others realized how sketchy and manipulative he was and had withdrawn to somewhere he couldn’t reach? Had he been forsaken to the undead?
“See, Asad, I told you he was here!” Michael cried excitedly, his voice carrying over the distance to Jared’s ears.
Jared looked up hurriedly to see his two friends charging across the field to come meet him. His eyes crinkled into a smile almost involuntarily, and he raised his arms wide to display the oxygen tank of a Totem he had brought back.
“I won, you guys!” He cheered, joy pulsing through him as surely as blood, “I really won!”
And he did it all by himself, too. Just him and his wretched talents. That was what was going to save the worlds.
[Player Log End!]