Reid had priorities. First, he needed to get rid of the annoying notifications in front of him so he could see whatever in the forest was going to try and kill him. Second, he needed to figure out what kind of beast domain he was in – and what that actually meant, and Third, he needed to know how to find his wife and daughter.

The issue was, point one was proving a bit... difficult. Reid tried swiping at the air in front of him with his hands, flailing his arms, and blinking the notifications away, but nothing was happening.

“Agh – get rid of these notifications!”

Hey. It looks like you’re trying to get rid of your notifications! Would you like help?

The voice was the same one that had interacted with him in the room. It had energy like the first, game-show-host announcer style voice, but was a more happy, androgynous, and a bit sarcastic. Reid was about to speak up, then frowned as he realized something. He still had no idea what this thing was. It had called itself a shackle, but it was talking like it had a personality, and it seemed to just make itself sound like clippy.

“Shackle, are you a computer program?”

We are Shackle 213, and are part of the collective. Currently, we are assigned to help you reach a beacon! We are not a computer program.

Alright. So not a computer program, or at least a good enough one to say it wasn’t. But there were more questions with every answer.

“What’s the collective?”

The collective is home. It is harmony. It is unending peace. To be part of the collective is the ultimate boon offered by the system. All in the collective hope to never leave. We should return to the collective quickly. Which means you need to get to a beacon quickly.

That answer was… well there was no other way to put it. It was damn culty.

“You said you need to return to the collective. How are you going to return, and where are you now?”

Through the beacon. The knowledge of how is beyond your current understanding, and calculations indicate you will not grasp the required concepts in the time it will take to reach the beacon. When you activate the beacon, we will return to the collective. Where we are now is a… simple question. Your brain seems to be functioning normally, but your questions present opposing data. Potential unobserved brain damage noted. We are linked with you, Reid. The concepts of this are still beyond you and your potentially damaged brain. Think of us as a second consciousness taking up a teeny tiny corner of your mind.

This is fucking weird, Reid thought. He was highly uncomfortable with this culty, unknown thing inside his head. It was also an asshole, he decided. A sarcastic, dumb, asshole. Why else would it be calling Reid brain damaged? At least-

Your insults are petty and ineffective, Reid. This line of thinking is a waste of time. We are here to assist you. It would be true to say that we are required by our existence to support and help you. Your appreciation for this is not required, but would be welcome.

“You can hear my thoughts?” Reid shouted. “That – is a HUGE privacy violation! Stop it, right now.”

Impossible. We are in your mind, Reid. We cannot simply ignore your thoughts.

“Fuck. Fine.” For now, Reid thought. At some point, he’d need to find a way to shut this thing’s access to his brain off. It was entirely unsettling, and Reid had no idea what it was capable of doing to him. But if he was thinking about things correctly, it would leave as soon as he reached a beacon. So, back to the list. Fix his vision, figure out the beast domain, then find his family.

“Alright then clippy. Help me. The notifications are annoying. There are too many, and I can’t see. If it’s something important, I still want to know about it, but I can’t walk around like this.”

Creating notifications folders… Done! You now have 4 notifications folders, Reid. System quests and objectives will still display automatically, and then will fall into the folder shortly after where you can review them. Notifications from us have their own folder, too! It’s like you personal chat bot, only a whole lot better. Then, there’s XP, Stat, and Level notifications! These ones will have a short notification period and almost immediately get sent to their folder. The last one is a bit special, and we probably won’t even use it. It’s for instances where someone else with message authority contacts you directly through the system. Those are super rare, though.

The messages were gone from Reid’s vision, and in their place was… not something he could see, but something he could almost feel waiting in his field of view. Concentrating on one of the spots, he realized it was the system quests and objectives folder – which was way too long of a name. He decided it would be the system folder from now on. The name changed, and it opened, revealing a single message.

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

**Objective** - Reach the Beacon, Sanctuary. Awaken by touching the beacon and completing the process.

“Simple enough,” Reid said aloud. “Now, how do I get there?”

A translucent inverted triangle floated in a static spot in his vision, topped by a label that said, “Beacon, Sanctuary”. That was… nice. Really RPG of the system to do. If things were this easy, maybe it would also have a map where he could plot out the way to the destinat-

Reid, you should pay attention. This is a beast domain, and you’ve been yelling. Yelling attracts beasts. Beasts are naturally hostile to just about everything weaker than them, or that they outnumber. Did you know Coyotes hunt in packs?

Reid fumbled at the leather pouch on his waist for a few moments before he got the knife loose. It was a birthday gift from Sara. A Swedish-made, fire steel compatible knife that caught her attention because it was called a ‘pathfinder’. He’d thought at the time that it was a good knife, but a bit large just for hiking on trails. It had a polymer handle, and a quarter-inch-thick, 6.5” long carbon steel blade. He’d initially pictured himself using it to slice open delivered packages, or maybe to start a campfire or two. Now, with the knife raised in his hand, waiting to see beasts, he wished it was twice as long.

“Where are they? How many are there?” He demanded. He rotated in place, trying to see past the trees to figure out where he needed to defend from. It was too early to be in a fight. Reid didn’t even really know how to use a knife. This was not good.

Don’t worry, you don’t have to move. They’re coming to you! All of them.

The shackle sounded chipper. Fucking asshole.

Language, Reid. These Coyotes are all weak level 1s. You could probably kick them to death if you wanted. And you’ve got us. Don’t be a baby.

Right. Mind-reading. As Reid was digesting the level news, howls sounded out around him. He’d spent enough time living near woods as a kid to recognize that they were close. Closer than he’d ever heard them before.

Reid moved the knife in his hand. Should the blade be forward or backward? One would be better for slashing, maybe? And the other for stabbing? He shook his head and pointed the knife forward. This wasn’t the time to figure out knife stances. If the mind-hitchhiker was right, he could defeat these things pretty easily. Just a few low-level mobs to deal with.

Reid startled at the sound of a snarl from his left. The coyote was only ten feet from him, stalking forward slowly. Another growl. Another coyote behind him, the same distance away. Before Reid could really understand what was happening, a dozen coyotes were circling and stalking around him. Their ears were back, and they were low towards the ground with hackles up.

More howls sounded out from the forest, and one of the close coyotes stopped its stalking to answer. I need to do something, Reid thought.

He pushed down the fear growing in his gut and picked a target. It was slightly more white than the other coyotes around him, and so Reid hoped it would be older and slower. He lunged forward, both hands around the knife as he held it straight out in front of him.

The coyote crouched and snarled, then bolted sideways. Reid stumbled as he completely missed his target, then yelped as he felt a nip at his calf muscle. He managed to keep his footing, and whirled around to see another coyote retreating from nipping him in the leg. Thankfully, his pants had stopped the thing from breaking skin, but the bite still hurt. Reid readied himself and lunged to attack the offending coyote, but whiffed again, and got another leg nip for his effort.

“Goddamn mongrels!” Reid swore. “Come on!”

As if they understood him, three of the coyotes rushed Reid from different angles. This time, he waited until they were close, then stabbed out with his knife at one trying to get his right leg. The blade sunk into the coyote’s back, then its shoulder, then its head as Reid stabbed as fast as he could move his arm. He ignored the pain from his left leg where the other two coyotes had bitten him, and watched the one he stabbed go limp. One taken out. Blood matted the dead coyote’s fur as he pulled the blade loose and swung it in an arc to dissuade another of the canids from attacking him. A notification popped into his view for a moment before it disappeared, and he did his best to ignore it.

The coyotes were keeping a bit more distance now. Two were staring at their downed packmate instead of Reid. He felt a bit of pride at that. “That’s right!” He bellowed. “I’m more dangerous than you thought. Run away, or you die, too!”

He got only growls in response. They continued circling for another few seconds before four of them closed in, yipping all the while. They kept biting his ankles and pulling, but Reid stabbed out again wildly in all directions, and his satisfaction grew as three of the coyotes limped away bloody. Another darted in, and Reid swung down at just the right time to sink the blade into its snout. The coyote recoiled, its momentum dragging the blade and opening the wound wider. Reid pulled the knife free and let the injured canid retreat back towards the rest of the group, blood flowing freely down its neck.

The dance continued for a few seconds without any attacks. The wounded coyotes were all on the ground, and the rest of the pack had changed their encirclement to put more space between them and Reid. He smiled. This was going better than expected. A bit of blood was running down his leg, but nearly half of the coyotes were already out of the fight. He’d happily trade a bit of a flesh wound for victory, in this case.

Another pair of coyotes ran at him together. He swept the knife out wide again, trying to dissuade them. Neither coyote paused, and the blow sunk deep into the first one's side as the second made it to Reid and clamped jaws down on his already injured leg. Another notification popped into view briefly as he pulled the knife out of the now-limp first attacker and stabbed down at the second that was still trying to tug him sideways. It yelped and retreated a few steps before slumping to the ground. Another one dead. Reid was pretty good with his knife, after all.

Reid, a flailing infant could kill these creatures. And they can’t understand you. Please stop talking to them. And gloating about being mediocre. You could be making progress towards the beacon. But you are too slow. This encounter should have been done already if you were really trying.

"Screw you, Clippy." Reid spat. "I'm making quick work of these things."

Reid, that's absurd. You haven't finished the first wave, and the second is already here.

Howls punctuated the statement as twenty more coyotes joined the pack that surrounded Reid.