The world around me went black, and then I was standing near one of the most ubiquitous things in the Shadowmen world, a Stuff House. Why was it called Stuff House? Because it had all kinds of stuff. Just, not very good stuff, and definitely not stuff that was good for you. But it was cheap stuff, and you could get stuff there pretty much 24-7-365.

That last bit wasn’t a lie, either. There were a few unwritten rules to living in this game world. Some of them were mantras boldly repeated to anyone who would listen, like, “Watch your back. Shoot straight. Conserve ammo. And never, ever, cut a deal with a dragon.” But there were some that people just understood, at that deep, primal level, whether they were a barrens rat scrabbling for anything they could get, or a C-Suite executive come down from on high. And one of those was that if the Stuff House was closed, you needed to be somewhere, anywhere, else, NOW!

The Stuff House was open, so things weren’t completely dire. However, from the looks of things, the game had put me down in Tacoma. Not the worst part of the metroplex, by a long shot, but definitely not upscale living, either. Quick check of my gear told me that I had my weapons, and my ‘walking around’ armor set. The ballistic face mask may give more protection from bullets, but that kind of screamed “I’m here to shoot things,” which tended to get the Knights on your ass sooner rather than later.

Iceblade casts Increase Reflexes (Force 3)

Iceblade’s Spellcasting roll: 10d6 = 6,6,5,4,4,3,2,2,2,1 (3 Hits)

Increase Reflexes: +2 Initiative, +2 Initiative Passes

Resist Drain (3S): 13d6 = 6,6,6,5,5,5,5,4,3,2,2,2,2 (7 hits) (Resists Drain)

I placed a hand on the katana at my hip, and focused on my magic, like I’d learned in the beta. The system for this game was a bit complicated. It was based on rolling a number of six-sided dice, but the only numbers that mattered most of the time were 6, 5, or 1. 6 and 5 were ‘hits’, and 1 was a ‘miss’. Whenever you rolled, you were looking to either reach a certain threshold of hits, or you wanted to get more hits than the person opposing you. Bigger dice pools meant a bigger chance of getting hits, obviously, but they also protected you from danger, because there were consequences for getting too many misses.

See, if you rolled more than half your dice pool as 1s, that was called a Glitch. It meant the game system was going to mess with you in some way. Usually, it wasn’t something dire, just annoying or potentially disruptive. It was totally possible to succeed on a task, and still Glitch, which could lead to hilarious outcomes (for those watching).

The big problem was when you glitched, and didn’t get any hits. That was a Critical Glitch, and that meant that big pain was coming your way. Maybe even death. Something bad was about to happen. One of the main uses I found for Edge that wasn’t straight wishing on a star for a Hail Mary pass was spending a point to downgrade a Critical Glitch to just a normal Glitch. You’d still fail at whatever you intended to do, but that was the difference between falling on your ass, and falling on your ass in such a way that you shot yourself in the face. One was infinitely better than the other.

In this case, I was using the Increase Reflexes spell, and sustaining it with my Sustaining Focus. I’d light up to anyone looking at me from the Astral Plane, which was a weird magic dimension that spirits came from, but most people didn’t go around looking in that plane. Hell, most people couldn’t even access it, since it was generally the domain of Magicians, Spirits, and some Dual-natured creatures, like Ghouls. Safe enough, for now, and it meant that I could move at speeds that rivaled a chromed up street samurai with his wired reflexes on. As a bonus, it also meant I thought a bit faster, to keep up with the enhanced speed.

But magic had a price. Casting a spell was like going for a jog, compressed into an instant. The bigger the spell, the bigger the drain. How big the drain was depended on the characteristics of the spell, and the Force you cast it at. Lower Force, lower drain. Problem was, Force capped the number of hits you could get when casting a spell. You cast a spell at Force 1, to minimize the drain? You could have gotten all 6s on your roll, but only one counted. Which was bad if you had a target number to beat, or were doing an opposed roll. On the flip side, if you cast a spell at a Force greater than your Magic rating, that drain turned from Stun, which would just knock you out, to Physical, which could kill you.

So, the balancing act of the Magician was to cast spells at a high enough force that they were useful, but low enough that you weren’t killing yourself with drain. If you had a team with you, then that gave you more options, since if you knocked yourself out throwing down an ice slick to send the bike gang chasing you crashing all over the place, the rigger driving the van could keep going while you slept it off. I actually was the rigger for that exact scenario once, during the Beta.

Looking back at the window, I decided to compress things. I didn’t need to know all the numbers, after all. Just the hits and misses. A quick change in my game options, and that was set.

Feeling better now that I had some extra spring in my step, and managed to avoid taking damage from it, I stepped through the doors of the Stuff House. If you’ve been in one Stuff House, you’ve been in all of them. Literally, every Stuff House had the exact same corporate-mandated layout, with the exact same products on the exact same shelves, with employees wearing the exact same uniforms. Same instantly recognizable and yet unidentifiable aroma. Pretty much the only thing that changed were region-specific promotions, which were always held in the exact same part of the store, on a little stand at the counter.

I didn’t bother looking at the ‘pay-by-the-minute’ simsense arcade on my left as I walked in, with all their flashing lights and sounds to try and get people to pay the 1 NuCred per minute rate. The games on offer were all generic crap, good for kids or those who couldn’t afford better. Same with most of the products in the store, honestly. But cheap and convenient often won out over good for most people.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

My eyes scanned the store, noting the inhabitants and exits, a habit that had become instinct during the beta, thanks to a few close shaves. The human clerk behind the counter was chatting with a pudgy dwarf girl, probably his girlfriend by the way they were talking. Some guy over by the frozen foods, looking at ice cream. Wannabe rocker and his girl, dressed in skin-tight leather making out by the pet food. No threats.

No, scratch that. Human woman, just stood up in Aisle 9, looking at the simsense trids. Cybereyes, with red lenses. Coat with an armor lining, same model as mine. There was a sling under the coat, pinning her shirt between her fairly impressive breasts. Not a purse, that was a weapon sling. SMG, maybe assault rifle. Not a ganger. Maybe a Shadowman, like myself?

Our eyes met. I could see her doing the same scan of me as I was doing to her. I offered her a small nod, which she returned. Neither of us were here for the other, so that was fine. Still, like recognized like. She at least looked like she could hold her own in a fight. Keep her in mind in case something happened.

I made my way back towards the ‘cold food’ area. The ‘homemade sandwiches and meals shipped in overnight’ were a bit more expensive than the soy-based Stuffburger, but they had actual meat in them. Add a couple packets of mayo from the area by the microwave, and it was a decent meal on the go. Plus, the Stuffburger tended to either stop you up or give you the runs if you ate too many of them. But that’s what cheap gets you.

The ‘Stuffed Club Sandwich’ was a simple thing. White bread, ham, turkey, bacon, processed American cheese, lettuce, tomato, cut in half diagonally, to make for easy eating on the go. The expiration date said it’d be good for the next three days, but you never wanted to push that too hard. Two of them made for a decent meal.

I heard the door open, and the sound of a wailing baby. Looked up, and yeah, there was a semi-cute elf lady, who would probably look better if she didn’t have that half-dead, hasn’t slept in two weeks look a lot of parents had with newborns. Looked like the kid was maybe a few months old? Not a threat, so not my problem.

Grabbed a kafsoda from the cooler, and was just ducking into Aisle 15 to grab some cookies for a treat when the world exploded. Well, not the whole world. Just some car out front.

Initiative

Iceblade’s Initiative: 9d6 = 1 Hit, 3 Miss (Init 10, 3 passes)

Berzerker’s Initiative: 9d6 = 5 Hits, 1 Miss (Init 14, 3 Passes)

Stooby’s Initiative: 9d6 = 3 Hits, 0 Miss (Init 12, 1 Pass)

Crank’s Initiative: 6d6 = 2 Hits, 1 Miss (Init 8, 1 Pass)

Fornis’s Initiative: 6d6 = 3 Hits, 1 Miss (Init 9, 1 Pass)

Shaking the ringing out of my ears, I looked towards the front of the store. Lights were flickering, there were a few fires going, and the place looked like shit. More like shit. At least the kid wasn’t crying anymore. On the other hand, three goons with guns were walking in, yelling something or other. Two humans, one dwarf.

First human had an armored jacket that was basically an up-armored and less subtle version of the lined coat I was wearing. Also looked cheaper. Heavy pistol in his hand had the unmistakable lines of a Mars Predator IV, probably the most recognizable handgun in the world, thanks to all the trid shows and movies it was in. Heavy hitter, only semi-auto. Chrome hand holding it meant a cyberarm, so possibly a heavy hitter there, too.

Second human had an armored vest. Lighter and less armored than the big guy, but still pretty good at blocking bullets. AK-97 Carbine in his hands, the modern equivalent of the dirt cheap assault rifle, cut down to SMG size. Rugged, reliable, and crap for anything beyond spray and pray.

Dwarf was an outlier. Only light pistol, couldn’t tell what kind, and he clearly wasn’t wearing any armor. First thing anyone learns living in the shadows was that if someone showed up armed, but unarmored, it meant one of two things. Either they were too much of a bottom feeder to even afford the crappiest armor, in which case they were no threat, or they believed that they didn’t need armor. That meant they were either cybered to the gills, some kind of adept, or a magician. Any one of those three meant they were a major threat, and needed to be dealt with first.

Berzerker’s Attack Roll (Fornis): 10d6 = 4 Hits, 2 Miss

Fornis’s Defense: 3d6 = 0 Hits, 1 Miss (4 Net Hits)

Burst Fire (Short, Narrow): 12P, -1 AP

Fornis’s Damage Resistance: 3d6 = 0 Hits, 0 Miss

Fornis: 12/10 Physical Monitor (Dying)

Berzerker’s Attack Roll (Crank): 10d6 = 7 Hits, 1 Miss

Crank’s Defense: 3d6: 1 Hits, 0 Miss (6 Net Hits)

Burst Fire (Short, Narrow): 14P, -1 AP

Crank’s Damage Resistance: 10d6 = 3 Hits, 0 Miss

Crank: 11/11 Physical Monitor (Unconscious)

Clearly, the other Shadowman in the building had the same idea as I did. People who go blowing up a Stuff House aren’t the type who are gonna get talked down, so they need to be put down, fast. Producing an SMG with an underbarrel grenade launcher from under her coat, she brought it up and fired two tight bursts of three rounds each. Dwarf and SMG guy both went down, as I heard the telltale crack of Ex-Ex Ammo.

Of course, fight in an enclosed space like this, with all the ‘joys’ of a Stuff House around? The two people on the ground weren’t the only casualties. The remaining human got sprayed with what looked like purple, sticky metal, before getting a face full of blue, spongy ‘meat’. Just another reminder that you didn’t want to know what was in any of the products on the shelves in a Stuff House.

Stooby’s Attack Roll (Berzerker): 6d6 = 1 Hit, 1 Miss

Berzerker’s Defense: 10d6 = 0 Hits, 1 Miss (1 Net Hit)

Semi-automatic: 6P, -1 AP

Berzerker’s Damage Resitance: 20d6 = 9 Hits, 3 Miss (No damage)

Stooby’s Attack Roll (Berzerker): 5d6 = 3 Hit, 1 Miss

Berzerker’s Defense: 10d6 = 5 Hits, 0 Miss (0 Net Hit)

Berzerker’s Defense: 10d6 = 4 Hits, 0 Miss

“You fucking BITCH!” Armor Jacket clearly wasn’t happy that two of his buddies were lying on the ground. Probably REALLY wasn’t happy that he was covered in unidentifiable gunk. His pistol barked twice, but even though one of the bullets hit the woman in the chest, I could tell that it did sweet fuck all to her. Definitely armored up.

Unfortunately, all the armor in the world didn’t keep her from ‘enjoying’ a nice coating of purple, smelly plastic that sprayed everyone in the area from the first shot. Worse, the second decided that she was getting off too easily. Not only did she get enveloped in a bloom of yellow metal that somehow looked soft, but she had to duck as several cans of dog food somehow got detonated, and flew past her head!

Iceblade’s Attack (Stooby): 13d6 = 6 Hits, 2 Miss

Stooby’s Dodge: 3d6 = 0 Hits, 0 Miss (6 Net Hits)

Winter’s Breath: 11P, -1 AP

Stooby’s Damage Resistance: 11d6 = 1 Hit, 0 Miss

Stooby: 10/10 Physical Monitor (Unconscious)

I darted forward as quickly as I could, minding my footing as I crossed the exploded puddles of gun. Armor Jacket looked like he wasn’t going to be much of a problem, if the SMG girl had another go at him, but I couldn’t just sit back and let her do all the work. Plus, even an idiot might get lucky and hit someone or something important, if you gave him long enough. As I got closer, I unsheathed my weapon focus katana, which I’d named Winter’s Breath, and cut the man down in a single slash. Not dead, but definitely out of it.

I heard footsteps behind me, and turned to see the other Shadowman nodding as she approached. “Nice moves. Slinger or adept?”

She was asking if I was a magician or an adept. No harm in letting a little info loose, I guess. “Slinger. Iceblade’s the name. Good shooting. Nice and clean.” I offered her my hand.

She smiled, and shook it. “Call me Berzerker.”