Zoe glared at the thought.

[Stop the pain. Reject the System.]

[Yes] / [No]

Not a question, but a statement. A dare. The ethereal voice in her head calling her out for daring to question pain.

She didn’t survive a plane crash just to quit now. No matter the agony as the tendrils snaked under her skin. She gritted her teeth and forced out a single word.

“No.”

The unnatural cold left her. The overbearing pain faded into the pulsing heat of the wound in her side.

[Title awarded: Lodestone (+5 might, +5 willpower, metal attunement 200%)]

The cold rush returned. Brief, but strong, as the title forced her attributes up. Almost sickening as it swept through her blood, her bones, her brain. She shivered and the world, the swirling lights, the shifting pines, slowed.

Not just a cold of temperature, but true entropy, as each atom in her body stilled, paused, before once more resuming its dance.

Power pulsed inside her. She gripped the scalpel once more. She was the scalpel in her own grip. She would cut her way through any problem. Nothing could stop her.

She let out a deep and content sigh. Her flesh was her own again. Whatever crucible held her, had passed.

Despite the hallucinatory nature of the experience, she knew it happened from the state of the cockpit. The metal shell looked like someone pulled a loose thread and left it in tatters. Patches of sky showed through the roof. Trees waved through gaps in the walls. And something moved between the trees.

Something huge.

[Phase 3 complete.]

[Monsters spawned.]

A keening wail split the air. High pitched. The bones in her body shook with reverberations. It sounded close. A footstep thudded the ground. Another.

Coming closer.

A silhouette reared up above the trees and blocked out the kaleidoscopic sky.

The beast stomped toward the plane. Each heavy step shook the earth. Broken glass jumped as the cockpit floor trembled. Zoe groaned. She tried to move, tried to crawl away from the shattered and open windscreen.

Each movement caused a fresh pulse of blood, but she refused to stop. The new strength, new focus, that filled her body after leveling up allowed her to move against the pain.

She would take any edge she could if it meant not dying.

And her death stalked closer.

The system called it a monster, and Zoe agreed. Its insectile outline towered above the treetops. Head like a praying mantis, cocked in predatory curiosity, large segmented eyes glinting like cut gems. Seven wings fanned out. Seven membranous blades of frost-laced glass. Their magical blue glow entrancing as the heart of winter.

The wind passed through the wings and grew frigid. Snowflakes danced toward the cockpit. Goosebumps bloomed across Zoe’s skin. Frost branched out across the pool of blood and filth on the floor beside her.

A hand on Zoe’s shoulder, fingers hot, as Bella crouched beside her.

“Zoe, I — oh my god what is that?”

The beast leaned into the cockpit. Chattering mandibles the size of oven doors. Pale blue light pulsed around the wings. A serrated limb reached toward her with practiced finality.

Bella grabbed Zoe under the arms and dragged her back out of reach. The claw swiped the carpet and left a long groove in the metal below. Bella continued backing toward the plane aisle.

Pale blue light flashed. Icicles spiked throughout the cabin. A frenzied carpet of ice swept toward the two women.

Bella shouted and pulled Zoe toward the cockpit door.

The pressure on Zoe’s wound slipped, and fresh blood poured out. Already cool by the time it touched the floor. The ice raced over the ground and covered Zoe’s shoes. Bella tugged, but the ice pinned Zoe in place.

Bella kicked at the ice.

“No!”

Frost coated her legs as she shattered the ice around Zoe’s feet. She tugged. Zoe lost her shoes, but the icy sheathes grew up her legs. Clung to her skin. Bella pulled her free and Zoe’s skin tore.

Zoe hissed at the fresh injury as Bella dragged her into first class and slammed the door closed. The beast wailed and screeched like nails in a blender. Blue light flashed through the cracks in the door. A deep chill emanated from the metal as frost spread across the surface.

Bella touched the frozen sweat in her hair.

“What was that?”

Zoe leaned her head against the plush cushioning of a first-class seat.

“I don’t know,” she closed her eyes. “But we’re trapped in here now.”

Windows trembled as the beast thudded outside. A pale blue light passed from porthole to porthole. Frost grew across the panes.

“It’s circling us,” Bella said. “Do you think we’re safe in here?”

“I don’t know.”

[Phase 4 initiated.]

[Seeding dungeons…]

“I don’t want to know about that,” Zoe sighed.

She closed her eyes, but the haunting words persisted.

Bella crouched beside her.

“How’s your injury?”

“Oh, you know…”

Bella grimaced.

“The medical kit didn’t have sutures, but I found this.”

She pulled a duty-free bag from a nearby seat with a bottle of top-shelf vodka, a bottle of painkillers, and an office stapler.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Zoe laughed and winced at the movement.

"This equipment would impress a few people I know," she reached for the vodka. "If I survive, that is."

Bella helped her remove the lid.

"You'll survive."

"I know. Pour this on the wound."

"You don't want to drink it?"

Zoe frowned.

"Not really the best idea… Actually, you know what? Yeah." She swallowed a mouthful. Vodka dribbled down her chin but she swallowed. Coughed. "Smoother than a bloody mary. Pass me the painkillers." She downed a few pills with another mouthful of vodka. "This feels stupid, but I don't care?"

Bella nodded.

"Just tell me what to do."

"Lift my shirt back. I'll hold the wound together, and you’ll staple it closed. Questions?”

“Can I have a drink first?”

“After.”

Bella swallowed, tried to grin, and picked up the stapler.

“Is this going to hurt?”

“Not you.”

Bella nodded.

“Ok,” she lifted the shirt, fabric stiff with cooled blood, and grimaced. “Oh, this looks bad.”

“Pour the vodka.”

Bella did as instructed. The clear spirit washed over the wound and flushed away the blood and the blackened filth. Zoe didn’t know what that stuff was. She never saw it inside anybody she cut open, and it repulsed her to think it had been inside her at all. A fiery pain overtook her thoughts as vodka cleared the wound.

But not as much pain as she expected.

Was she faint from blood loss, or was there another explanation? Choosing Metal increased her Willpower. Did that mean she felt less pain?

“Ok,” Bella eyed the vodka as she set it down. “Now what?”

Zoe glanced down at the wound. Four long red gashes in her flesh. Starting under her ribs and curving up. Any further up and they would have sliced through her breasts. Cleaned with vodka, the cuts seemed too perfect. Too clean. Slashes of razors, not nails. Zoe experienced a feeling like vertigo, as though she stared at a wound on a screen. This couldn’t be her flesh. She took in a breath, and the wound breathed. She fought down the urge to vomit as she placed her fingers on either side of the topmost cut.

Pain. Push the flesh together. It’s not yours. Agony. Just keep it together.

“Now use the stapler.”

Bella glanced at the stapler.

“This is a horrible idea, right?”

“Just do it, Bella. I’ll get better treatment in that town. I saw a hospital as we crashed through the place.”

“Really?”

Zoe had been too busy panicking to see anything, but she nodded.

“It's easy. Like stapling paper,” she tried to think of something to distract the other woman’s mind. “Are there any other survivors?”

“A few,” Bella placed the stapler against the wound. “They think I’m a hero for landing the plane.”

“Congratulations.”

Bella grinned and pressed the stapler. It clicked, and Zoe winced.

“I’m sorry! Was that too hard?”

“Just keep going.”

But when Bella lifted the stapler she frowned.

“I’m sorry,” she said with a sheepish expression. “I don’t think it worked.”

Zoe sighed as blood started seeping from the wound.

“Try again.”

Bella pressed the stapler down, and it clicked, but the staple didn’t enter Zoe’s flesh. She tried three more times without success before she pressed the stapler against the first-class cushion. It had no issues stapling the fabric.

“I think something’s wrong,” Bella said.

Zoe nodded.

Was it because the stapler wasn’t strong enough? Did her skin and blood gum up the mechanism? Or was it something else?

She chose Metal. That had to mean something. Had to help with something. Some instinctual knowledge scratched away at the back of her mind. Akin to the ethereal voice, but less substantial.

Please, she thought as she gripped Bella’s wrist and guided the stapler onto the wound, please just work.

“Try again.”

Bella nodded, her hand trembling as she pressed the stapler against the wound. Zoe focused on the wound. On the stapler. On the fact she didn’t want to die.

Inside her, something shifted, like a single thread tugging on the core of her soul.

[Skein 50/57]

The stapler clicked. Bella lifted it away and sighed.

“It worked.”

Zoe nodded.

“Continue.”

A few messy and painful minutes later, the wound was stapled closed. The crooked, ugly stitch job filled Zoe with mixed feelings of horror and pride.

“Congratulations, Bella, you just saved my life. Now, I want to test a theory.”

“What?”

Zoe offered her wrist.

“Scratch my arm.”

“What are you —”

“I have a hunch.”

“Ok…”

Bella’s nails slid along Zoe’s skin.

“Do it harder, Bella. Mark me.”

Zoe focused on the tiny thread inside herself. Focused on the thought of metal. Bella dragged her nails down Zoe’s wrist. Nothing happened. Zoe raised her own hand. She felt drained, but not weak, as she dragged her nails down her wrist. Four white lines followed her nails. They faded to pink.

She nodded. A slight understanding of what was happening developed within her. The Metal had changed her.

“Well, something’s up with my skin,” she said. “Did that voice tell you that you leveled up?”

Bella shook her head.

“I got that message,” a man said. “Twice.”

Zoe glanced up as the stranger walked into first class. He seemed a little older than her, early thirties, with a shaved head and heavily tanned skin. His movements graceful as a ballet dancer, despite the ex-wrestler frame packed into his Hawaiian shirt. A shirt stained with the same blackened filth that poured out of her. She knew he wasn’t lying, but the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. He leaned against a chair, not too close, his eyes studying her.

“I leveled up while fighting those… zombies?” he shrugged. “That voice in our heads, it’s changing the world. So it makes sense that it’s changing us.” He glanced down at his shirt. “Definitely don’t recall drinking a gallon of black crap before the flight.”

Zoe pulled her shirt down over her wound.

“Who are you?”

“My name is Anton,” he smiled. “I believe I owe you my thanks.”

“What?”

“If it wasn’t for you, we never would have survived the crash.”

Bella coughed.

“Actually, I’m the one who landed the plane.”

“I know,” he grinned. “But she fought off the zombies, no? That’s when you got the level up prompt, right?”

Zoe nodded. Anton’s stare was like being studied by a fascinated child.

“What prompt did you get?” she asked.

“It told me I leveled up and asked me to select an element. I chose Sky,” he grinned. “Look at this.”

He jumped and floated a few meters through the air before landing closer to the cockpit door. His fingers trailed the metal, and he frowned.

“Ice cold,” he glanced over at the women. “The voice told me I got the achievement Tailwind. Do you think I’ll be able to fly?”

Bella sighed, her breath fogging in the cooling air.

“I didn’t get any reward. No level up. Even though I landed the plane and saved us all!”

Zoe gripped her hand.

“You did great. Now can you get me some bandages and a clean shirt?”

Bella’s eyes widened.

“I’m so sorry,” she opened the plane’s first aid kit and took out the bandages. “Hey, you, Anton, was it?”

“Yeah?”

“Check the overhead compartments. We need some new clothes.”

He gave her a mock salute and opened compartments. Rather than walk from compartment to compartment he swung himself like a monkey, grinning at his newfound power. Zoe watched him, keeping pressure on her wound, and couldn’t help but notice the gore stuck to his knuckles.

If he leveled up twice, it meant he killed a bunch of those zombies before they passed through the safe zone barrier. He fought without weapons. Even though it was a life or death situation, it implied an unnerving comfort with violence.

And unlike her, he was uninjured.

Bella finished wrapping the wound as Anton brought over a few travel cases.

“Some clothes in here,” he said. “I don’t know what size.”

“That’s fine,” Bella made a shooing gesture. “Now give us some privacy.”

He saluted again, his eyes intent on Zoe, before he turned and walked away.

“Oh,” he said over his shoulder. “The rest of the survivors are talking about how to get to that Safe Zone we flew through. You should join us as soon as you can,” he tapped the window. “Seeing as you’re the only two who know why this entire plane is coated in ice.”