Ethan Bishop’s shaking, bloody hands clutched the small black box to his chest. He was panting, gasping for air, which–despite the altitude halfway up the mountain–tasted sweet and rejuvenating. Though perhaps it was just the contrast to the hot, fetid atmosphere of that terrible place he’d just escaped.
Try as he might, he couldn’t banish the images that flashed through his mind. The red skies, the twisted landscape, and…the creatures. The twisted, awful creatures. It was quickly becoming a blur of horrors all mixed together. Running, climbing, hiding, doing everything in his meager power to keep ahead of his pursuers. Always wanting to look back, but dreading what he would see.
After what he’d experienced, anywhere would feel like paradise. Still, the land that stretched out before him seemed to be exactly that. He felt his pulse racing, and the adrenaline still pumping through his veins, and forced himself to look out at majestic scenery, hoping it would bring him some much needed calm.
The sun’s rays were shining down from behind picturesque white clouds, illuminating a verdant green valley. Mountains of remarkable height stretched off in either direction, snow-capped even in the pleasant warmth of summer. They seemed to circle this place like a shield, as if understanding that the land they contained was so pure as to be worthy of their eternal protection.
Glancing down at the fresh wound on his leg, and remembering the appalling creature that had inflicted it, Ethan considered he might be exaggerating the vista’s splendor by contrast. The world seemed to take that as a challenge, however, as he spotted an unlikely waterfall on a neighboring mountain. His gaze followed the water’s journey through the idyllic landscape, swept up by the scene.
The burgeoning river carved through stone to reach fields of grass, which soon gave way to lush, dense forests. Ethan recognized various evergreens, as well as the more diverse, leafy types that he’d grown up with. They seemed to create patterns and waves of textures and colors, pleasant to look upon.
Despite their pristine appearance, he couldn’t help but stare at the woods with suspicion. He’d never see trees the same way again after what he’d experienced. He could still feel the slithery, writhing root in his hands, and a shiver passed over him. Thankfully, these ones seemed content to move only with the gentle breeze, and at last he allowed his gaze to move past them.
It was getting difficult to make out details beyond the expansive forest, but he thought he could spot something man-made, possibly even a small village in the distance. He was distracted as a shadow passed over him, however, and he looked up to see birds of some kind soaring overhead.
They were backlit by the sun, disguising their appearance beyond vague shapes, but he was certain their size was unusual. Still, after the things he’d encountered on the other side of the rift, he felt compelled to search for more threats. While he couldn’t see much more from this height, once or twice he did catch sight of shapes moving ominously through the woods, and finally he made himself look away.
He glanced again at his bloody leg, then began tearing at his shirt to create a bandage. It was far from the best use of his medical degree, but he had few options. Inspecting the wound, he considered how lucky he was that only the creature’s pincers managed to catch him.
What did that woman call it again, a scorpiursi? Ethan winced as he tightened the knot, considering that he very well could have been poisoned if it had been the stinger that connected. Or worse, that horrific mouth–no. He banished the image. He could wait for the inevitable nightmares to see it again.
What remained of his climbing gear made soft metallic sounds as he regained his feet. He’d been quite well equipped for a journey into the Rockies, and after his first year practicing medicine, the vacation had been exactly the release he needed. Indulging in a hobby he’d been forced to ignore for a few years, climbing mountains had been invigorating–up until the blue-white light had ripped him away.
What came next was a recipe for life-times worth of therapy in only a few hours. The things he’d seen in that other place…the blood-red landscape, the beasts he could only describe as monsters, and those strange people, all lined up in formation. They had to be an army, right? If he hadn’t already checked himself for concussions, brain injuries, and general lucidity, he’d be sure it was all an elaborate delusion.
Ethan was still irritated that he didn’t have more time to talk to the woman in silver. He had thousands of questions, not the least of which was how she managed to kill that impossibly large, ape-like creature, that seemed to be at least partly comprised of stone. He’d swear that ‘King Kongcrete’ actually dissolved into snow when she touched it, but all she’d revealed was that it was something she could do because of ‘her Familiar’.
So many questions, but she was convinced that place was killing him–Potentia she called it. A gentle name considering it had nearly convinced a man of science that he’d died and gone to hell. Ethan looked down at his yellow shirt, orange harness, and bright blue climbing shoes.
“Imagine spending the afterlife dressed like a complete douchebag,” he muttered. His own voice sounded ragged, but it was pleasant to hear something other than the low whistle of wind. It made everything feel more real somehow, as if staying silent were giving this world permission to be a dream.
“What did that woman think, seeing me in this outfit? I guess she was in armor though, so we were both making bold fashion choices.” Again he considered his torn shirt and tight shorts, which looked ridiculous out of context. “I guess this could pass for women’s armor in some of the games I’ve seen.”
He sighed, hearing Dean’s voice in his mind. You’re stalling, idiot, shut your mouth and get to work.
“I’ll agree to half of that,” he said to the specter of his older brother, then made himself focus. “Alright, I’m stuck on a ledge, hundreds of feet up a mountain with no climbing gear. All I really know about this place is that this shoe box is supposed to keep me alive here. Oh, and that I’m not supposed to tell anyone I’m a doctor–maybe that word means something else here.”
He shook his head in frustration. He had so many questions, all he could do was hope the black box held answers. He laid it carefully on the ground before searching for a latch, not wanting to risk anything falling out and tumbling down the mountain. The box had a few symbols carved into it, swirls and patterns not unlike the tattoos the woman had possessed. At last he found some kind of clasp, and the container opened with a satisfying click.
“I don’t know exactly what I was expecting, but this isn’t it,” he said. “I could use a first aid kit, dinner, and a bazooka, and I get a bunch of funky stones. Typical.” He ran his hand over the dozen or so strange objects secured in the so-called survival kit. They were mostly black, like the box itself, but with more symbols written on them in different colors.
“She called this ‘a world of violence,’ with my luck I’m supposed to chuck these at threats.” They were uniformly smaller than the palm of his hand, with a single exception. By instinct he reached for the largest stone, which inexplicably managed to feel heavier than the entire box. Before he had time to consider this oddity, the book-sized rectangle of stone melted in his hands.
“What the hell?” he said, caught between a reflex to try to catch the liquid, and also hurl it away from him as far as he could. In the end it didn’t matter, as the ink-like substance disappeared into his flesh in an eyeblink.
Ethan may have freaked out then, swatting at his own arms like a madman, and only his climber’s instincts prevented him from tumbling from the small ledge to his death. He could feel the stuff moving inside him, cold and questing, flowing through each of his limbs before it seemed to gather at the underside of his left forearm.
He watched with disturbed curiosity as black patterns began to dance and swirl around in an area no larger than the tip of his thumb. It only took moments to resolve into a series of three, connected spirals, which lit up with a cool blue glow. The light poured out of the symbol, like fast-moving smoke, to form a small rectangle, hovering in the air like a hologram.
Ethan stared at the oddly familiar image, only then recalling the mysterious woman’s words as she handed him the box. “It was made by someone who visited your world. He’s a bit eccentric, but it should make sense to you.”
He shook his head in disbelief. This was definitely a little piece of home…circa 1991. The cool blue square belonged in any number of interfaces now decades old. He had to admit though, after getting past the initial shock, the nostalgia was somewhat comforting.
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Master Arturo Dalton’s System activated!
Scanning current world…Identified!
Welcome to Nexum!
Scanning world of origin…Identified!
Warning: Terra currently inaccessible! Dimensional tides not in alignment!
Scanning current magical matrix…complete!
Familiar Bonds: 0/3
Abilities: N/A
Rank: Pre-Dawn
Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.
Physiology: Basic (human)
Codifiable Skills: 3! Congratulations!
Dalton’s Survival Recommendation: Consume Skill stone!
Consume now: (Y/N)?
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Given his exhaustion and the increasingly mind-shaking experiences of the day, Ethan found himself reading the message several times before he was able to make sense of it. “Wait…Master Arturo Dalton…M.A.D…She gave me a ‘Mad’ system?” After considering the terrors of where he’d been, and the endless unknowns before him, he chuckled. “Alright, that tracks.”
He looked back to the message, focusing on the part he thought he understood. “The silver lady did mention Nexum, and warned me that she didn’t know how I could get home. I guess that part, at least, isn’t really a surprise,” he sighed, resolving not to think about it.
Focus on what you can control, not what you can’t, his brother’s voice echoed through his memories. “Yeah yeah, you even need to be right on a whole different planet, don’t you?” To forestall the imaginary argument, he turned his eyes to the second half of the message.
“Familiars…just like she said.” His mind almost refused to picture the enormous, flying creature the woman had been riding, as if the impossibility of it compared to the world he knew made the memories suspect. But it had been real.
He remembered the feeling of profound insignificance as the gargantuan beast had appeared from behind the red mountains. The dim colors and earthy tones of that place had made the vibrant silver, white, and blue stand out even more. Its two sets of enormous wings had barely moved, as if it were swimming rather than flying, and despite where he’d been, he’d felt lost in its undeniable majesty.
It had been reminiscent of an eagle, though that felt like comparing a house cat to a tiger. A giant, godlike, magical tiger, no less, if he could believe what he’d seen. Ethan glanced at the sky again. “I saw some large birds, but nothing close to that. Maybe I’m supposed to start smaller?”
His mind immediately conjured an image of the horrific scorpiursi, looking like an unholy cross between a scorpion, a tarantula, and bear. It had indeed been quite a bit smaller, and he considered the idea of keeping one as some sort of pet. “Hmm, I think I’d rather die,” he said without irony.
Knowing it was a question for later, he finally turned his thoughts to the last part of the message, the confirmation still waiting. “Codifiable Skills, eh?” Again he considered the dangers he’d experienced, and that the woman who gave him this kit had little to gain from deceiving him. She’d saved his life in more ways than one, and trusting this box was effectively the same as trusting her.
“Fine, let’s do this. Uh…Yes? Codify me…please?” The Mad system didn’t respond directly, instead, one of the stones from the box lit up. The symbols on it glowed with a soft yellow, and he hesitantly picked it up, expecting what would happen next.
As before, the stone liquified, then disappeared into his skin. Ethan shook his head as he felt the somewhat familiar experience of cold rushing through his veins. “I’m going to be one more jackass with a bunch of tattoos in a language I can’t read,” he remarked sadly. This time he felt symbols forming on his left temple, right hand, and right calf.
The one on his leg formed first, and truly did look a bit like Japanese characters. “I’m going to find out later this means something like ‘Princess Duck Lover’.” He paused, “Actually I’ll be lucky if it says ‘Duck’.”
A moment later the symbol on the back of his hand completed, and he was surprised to see that it was something he recognized. A tiny bow and arrow were encircled together, once more in black ink. At first he was confused; he definitely had no familiarity with archery, but then he recalled how he knew the symbol.
He’d been young when he’d chosen to become a doctor. Young enough that he’d done some childish things, like look up gods of healing and drawn their symbols in his notebooks. This one belonged to Apollo, more famous for his work with the Sun, but with a solid side hustle in healing.
Ethan obviously couldn’t see whatever had appeared on his temple, so he turned his attention back to the system window hoping for more information. Interestingly, the image had remained stationary, despite him moving the arm and tattoo. Sure enough, it had more to say.
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(3) New Skills Codified, Congratulations!
Skill # 1: Wall Climbing (Dawn Rank 0: 0%)
Your mastery of climbing techniques has been transposed into Wall Climbing! You may adhere to any non-organic, non-magical surface, regardless of friction or traditional holds.
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“Holy shit, I’m Spider-man,” he said, before moving to inspect his own hand. It looked unchanged, but something felt different. When he considered his knowledge and memories of climbing, they weren’t missing exactly, but they somehow seemed compartmentalized, and organized, like they were isolated from the rest of his mind.
He was excited to try out the new skill, but his mind immediately snapped back to the mark of Apollo, and the implications of a skill connected to healing.
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Skill # 2: Hand of Apollo (Dawn Rank 0: 0%)
Your mastery of internal medicine, injury, and disease, has been transposed into Hand of Apollo! You may heal wounds and afflictions that would have been possible with your previous medical knowledge! (Note: may not target self).
Skill # 3: Apollo’s Gaze (Dawn Rank 0: 0%)
Your mastery of medical diagnoses has been transposed into Apollo’s Gaze! You may evaluate injuries and afflictions by sight alone! (Note: Apollo’s Gaze must be used on a target to enable Hand of Apollo!)
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Ethan leaned back again, looking at the symbol on his hand. This had been what he was afraid of, years of medical school and training somehow changed in a way he didn’t understand. He hastily tried to access that knowledge, again feeling like it was somehow partitioned in his mind. He struggled until he considered a specific problem–like the wound on his leg–which finally provided easy access to everything he’d been taught. Strangely it almost felt like opening a book in his own mind.
“How the hell is this helpful for my survival?” he said. “I could already diagnose and treat other people’s injuries. A bag full of medical supplies would have been more useful, and those I could at least use on myself.”
Ethan got to his feet, anger rising up even as his brother’s voice echoed once again. Use what you have, little brother– “Shut up, Dean! I’m allowed to be pissed sometimes.” He sighed, calming himself. “Okay, okay, I’ll use what I have. Supposedly I can climb this extremely dangerous mountain now. That’s something, I just need to–”
He stopped, looking down at the unfortunately large black box that still had numerous mysterious objects contained within. “Right. You. Maybe I can strap you to my climbing harness or something.” As Ethan leaned down to pick it up, he noticed the small interface had followed him as he moved, and it had a new message.
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Dalton’s Survival Recommendation: Consume Inventory stone!
Consume now: (Y/N)?
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Ethan read the message, then looked down at the large open box. “At least this one seems self-explanatory. Fine, yes, consume the thing.” Once again a stone began to glow softly, this time with white light. Used to the process now, he picked it up and felt it melt almost immediately. This time it didn’t make much of a trip as it gathered below his right wrist, mirroring the first tattoo from the Mad system.
Again, the symbols were stylized, but clearly formed a familiar picture. “It’s like a little treasure chest,” he said, running his hand over it. Immediately light coalesced into a new window of the same general color and style as the one still floating to his left. It was a plain, empty grid, but still pleasantly familiar after a lifetime of games.
As he closed and lifted the black box, Ethan wondered exactly how much more terrifying and disturbing this would all be if he hadn’t started his day on Potentia: world of living nightmares. “Apparently a quick jaunt to hell will really open your mind,” he thought bitterly. Not knowing quite what to do, he touched the box against his tattoo, and smiled as the same white light wrapped around it hungrily.
A second later it was contained in one of the neatly arranged slots. Finding the novelty of the process entertaining, he quickly did the same with his climbing harness, and the small bag that he refused to call a fanny pack. He hesitated briefly before touching the tattoo in an attempt to close it. Thankfully it dutifully obeyed, rather than sucking his entire body into a small square.
Wanting to maintain his momentum, he closed the interface in the same way, then moved closer to the edge and looked down the sheer drop. Fortunately there were other small ledges on the way down, but he doubted he had the strength to climb hundreds of feet after the ordeals he’d been through.
Instead he focused on a small outcropping about thirty feet down, considering it the safest test of his new skill. There were just enough proper cracks and handholds that he figured he might make it, even without whatever the skill was giving him–provided the wind remained friendly.
Finally he leaned against the mountain, feeling the cool stone beneath his fingertips, and tried to put himself into the zen-like climber’s mindset he tended to use. Belatedly he considered that he might need to tap the symbol on his calf to activate it, which would be extremely inconvenient.
However, when he looked down, he saw that it was already glowing with a soft yellow, and when he tried to move a hand to touch it, he realized that hand was already stuck to the wall. “Damn, I am Spider-man,” he said. “Well, without the webs, or strength, or spider-sense…okay, I’m basically just some bug, but this is still awesome.”
It took a couple of minutes of experimentation to find out how to release his hands at will, and how to balance the weight so it wasn’t all on his fingertips. He was also very grateful to find that it worked for his feet without removing his shoes. “I think there was a comic that explained that, but I never read it,” he muttered while slowly moving himself out past the ledge.
He tried to pick a route that would allow him to switch to regular holds if necessary, but after a few moments he was reveling in the ease at which he was able to move down the mountain. It was addictive, exciting, and…joyous. He needed this, far more than he’d realized.
He felt a sense of freedom and renewed hope that he’d worried might be lost. He felt purposeful and alive, as the wind rushed through his hair and the sun warmed him. Optimism, long since atrophied, seemed to blossom once again, and with it came conviction.
“I’m going to make it off this mountain. I’m going to find people, and I’m going to warn them that there’s an army at their door,” he said as he methodically shifted his weight. “Then I’m going to get home...somehow. Hell, maybe I’ll even get a magic ferret or something.”
There was a small smile on his face as he looked down, seeing the mountain fall away seemingly forever beneath him. As he placed his right foot, his eye was caught by the tattoo that allowed him to experience this miracle.
“Huh, I don’t think it’s glowing as brightly as–”
Dr. Ethan Bishop, born-again optimist, fell off the mountain.