Until today, Ross hadn't the faintest idea of what it felt like to be flash-fried. He'd always been careful during his treks in the cherry picker. Managing utility poles wasn't exactly the safest job on the planet, but it paid well enough that Ross was capable of living on his own while attending college, so he didn't necessarily mind the risks involved. He knew the safety precautions, the right approach to properly remove snapped lines, and put on all of the rubber his rotund body could hold. Due to all of this, the idea of actually feeling an electric shock was somewhat lost on him.
If he had regularly exercised, he might have been able to move out of the way of the second swinging wire. If he had been listening through just one earbud like he was advised to instead of keeping both in, he might have heard the wild sparking and violent snap that dislodged said wire. Instead, the wire he had been working on removing joined forces with the snapped line that whipped into his gut. Out of reflex, Ross grabbed onto the second line, which was a horrible mistake. The lines proceeded to extensively and painfully electrocute him, the insane voltage causing his arm to curl close to him and prevent his grip from letting go.
If that was the only injury he'd gotten that day, he might have survived.
The co-worker he had been with at the time, Larson, had panicked. Wanting to get Ross away from the wires currently turning him into a slab of charcoal, Larson pulled the cherry picker forward too fast and too far. Ross's clenching hands caused him to slide from the basket, still gripping onto the wire like there was no tomorrow and allowing his body to be swung through the air. Unfortunately, Ross's muscles did not have very much strength, and being just shy of 300 pounds at a measly 5'4", his grip slipped from the wire mid-swing. He tumbled down the road like a bowling ball for a few meters, body seizing. Alas, if that was the end of things, he may yet have survived. Hospitalized and receiving surgery for sure, but he'd be alive.
As Ross careened down the road, flung by a wire after shoving approximately 380,000 volts of electricity through his plump form, his unconscious body bounced directly into the traffic nearby.
Perhaps a smaller vehicle would have treated him better, even allowing him to live in a comatose state for a decade or two longer, though whether that was better than dying was debatable. Instead, Ross's unconscious body was slammed directly into by a moving truck going about sixty-five. Larson looked away as Ross's plump remains erupted like a pimple across the roadway, spreading viscera further than Larson would care to think about ever again.
The most confusing part, especially for Ross, was that he sat in contemplation, recalling the events in perfect detail not a moment later.
Well… perhaps sitting wasn't an accurate term. He lay sprawled out, belly-up and spread eagle. In fact, recalling the events was also poor phrasing. It was more like he was watching the scene replay on a screen in front of himself.
Then he realized. He was watching the scene replay on a screen in front of him. He jumped a bit, the screen seeming to move in perfect synchronization with him. It always remained half a foot from his face as he shifted and bobbed his head, looping the events like a hyper-realistic gif. Gore had never been a huge problem for Ross, but even he had to admit this was overkill. Pun slightly intended.
He shook himself from the stupor and tried to look around past the screen in front of him. It seemed as though he was in a massive, empty, square room with auburn walls, ceiling and floor. It was so uniform that it took him a second to realign himself with his surroundings. He saw he was smack in the middle of the room, the only light coming from the odd screen in front of him. He smirked to himself after a few more seconds as a red X faded into view in the corner of the video, like a free-to-play mobile game ad. He shook his head, trying to poke it with his index finger. His hand passed straight through, but the X had changed color to green and the screen faded.
"Damn…" He muttered. "Weird dream." He'd heard of people having horribly realistic dreams while in a coma, or even just after a concussion. Had he ever really been electrocuted? Had he just fallen from the cherry picker, or maybe just gotten run over? Perhaps he simply had a heart attack while asleep - he wasn't exactly the image of perfect heart health, though he wasn't sure if a stroke would wake him up or not. He felt a hell of a lot of pain if nothing else, so he knew something had happened.
He blinked a few times before rubbing his eyes. It felt like he'd taken a handful of melatonin, said 'fuck it', and slammed whatever was left in the jar immediately after. The grogginess waxed and waned as he continued to take stock of himself, allowing only small glimpses of proper thought, yet the drowsiness somehow didn't allow him to drift off.
After what felt like hours of sitting and nearly passing out but not quite being able to, Ross heaved a sigh and tried to stand. He stumbled at first, landing flat on his butt. He realized immediately that it didn't hurt. He'd fallen before, and with how heavy he'd gotten, he knew damn well any fall was gonna hurt ferociously, but now he felt nothing. Was this just in his head, or was the hyper-dense brain fog preventing him from processing the shock to his system?
Another pop-up startled him out of his stupor. This frameless screen looked to be larger than the rest, font at least three times bigger than it needed to be. Ross tilted his head as the text continued to scrawl across his vision. He stood at once, transfixed, as the odd messages continued to erupt into his view.
[Cause of death: Multiple.
Sub-Causes: Electrocution, Paralysis, Heart Palpitations, Concussion, Gravitational Forces, Lung Rupture, Kidney Failure, High Velocity Impact with a Vehicle.
Preventative Idealization:
Defensive nature +???
Offensive nature +???
Utilizing nature +???
Running diagnostics…
Choosing the proper Trait.
Proper Trait does not exist within the current database. Reloading…
Error. Reloading…
Error. Reloading…
Error. Reloading…]
The last message continued to repeat, quickly filling Ross’s vision with repetition. He rubbed his eyes. Surely this was some sort of dream, right? He couldn’t see any reason why it could be real. Lending to this fact was his mental haze, like something was keeping him from true cognition. Maybe this was a lucid dream? Ross had heard of them, but never had one. Not to say he didn’t try to give himself one, vomiting after one particular attempt advised by a very sketchy chat app.
After a few moments, the same error message stopped. The console on the screen stopped typing, the cursor blinking. Almost immediately, a rapid wall of text erupted over his screen. He took a step back, but the screen kept following him, causing him to once again take a seat unintentionally.
[Error. Reloading…
Successfully reloaded. Attempting Trait Acquisition 2.
Attempting to identify Trait.
Trait identification failed. No Trait present.
Attempting to apply Trait.
No applicable Trait in database. Trait failed to be applied.
Attempting to create Trait for individual {Ross_Olson.}
. . . . .
Attempt failed. Error #13.21.12.20.9.
Trait Selection access: Denied.
Reason: Low clearance.
Error. Trait needed to continue.
. . . . .
Granted individual {Ross_Olson.} access to Administrative Grade Clearance within the
Boundaries of [Trait Inheritance].
Please enter the name of the trait you wish to generate.
Name: _____________]
Ross blinked. Confused, he looked for a keypad for a moment before realizing how ridiculous that log sounded. Was he hooked up to some weird machine? Was some form of life support worming its way into his dream? He shook his head, the haze in it refusing to let him ponder for long. He was getting tired of deciphering his situation, and decided it would be easier to assume it was a dream. To sate any doubts, he pinched his arm.
He didn’t feel a thing.
He nodded, a gesture to make it as official as possible. This had to be a lucid dream. Looking back to the screen, he wondered about what sort of ability name he could want. He thought of some ironic and edgy examples. Lord of Murder, Slenderman and the like. He shook his head, though; if he would be getting an ability, he’d make sure it was one he could reasonably accept. He jokingly thought of Shock Absorber as the name, and a part of his brain pushed it forward a bit. It just sort of felt right.
He heard a ding and realized he had zoned out. He focused on the screen, and just as the text box flashed green and began to fade, he noticed the text in it.
[Name: Shock Absorber.]
He cursed a word under his breath. He didn’t necessarily want that as an ability, whatever it may turn out to be, but after a moment he decided it could be worse. He noted how sensitive this system of his mind’s creation was before grinning. Maybe it would make some sort of immortality, maybe some ability to absorb hits? Regardless, the more he thought about it, the more he liked Shock Absorber. Plus, based on the events that he saw at the start of this lucid dream, it was darkly comical. He sighed with a smile, decidedly content on the title. Shortly thereafter, a new screen of text popped up.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
[Ability Name: Shock Absorber.
Definition parsed from {Earth} and/or {Ross_Olsen.}
Formatting abilities to laws of {Terraegnus}.
Calculating Trait rarity…
Compiling data…
Compressing integral statuses…
Translating biometrics…
Documenting Trait stats…
Converting to {English_Language}...
…
Construction of Trait {Shock Absorber} complete. Please accept the new Trait to
continue.]
Yet again, Ross read through the lines of text, confused. He tilted his head slightly before pressing the button that said “Accept” in large, bold letters. The white box flashed green, then a paragraph etched itself out in front of him. Looking over it, Ross grinned broadly.
[Trait: Shock Absorber
Trait Rarity: ???
Trait Status: Passive, Active, Offense, Defense, Utility, Support, Regen
ERROR: Ability claims all Statuses. Will appear as though it has no Status to
others.
Advancement 1: You gain the ability to obtain Absorption, an alternate energy source. When attacked, you will gain an amount of Absorption equal to the damage taken by any physical source. Your current maximum Absorption value is
ERROR - No parameters set. No comparisons available.
You have no maximum Absorption value. You may use any amount of Absorption to add an equal amount of Kinetic Damage equal to the amount of Absorption used.
Advancement 2: You have gained the Subtrait Immovable Object.
Advancement 3: ???
Advancement 4: ???
Advancement 5: ???
Advancement 6: ???
Advancement 7: ???
Advancement 8: ???
Advancement 9: ???
Advancement 10: ???
SUBTRAITS:
Immovable Object
You cannot be brought below 1 Health by a single attack of any kind. You
are immune to Knockback effects.
Requirements for [1st] Mutation:
* Reach Advancement 10
* 100,000 EXP
* Complete 10 Dungeons
Trait Creation completed. Please press Continue to apply Stat Points, Race and Class.]
Ross chuckled. He figured his brain remembered being unable to unlock everything at once in similar character creation methods, be them video games or TTRPGs. He shook his head, clicking the white Continue button. For a moment, it glitched visibly. This made him jump a bit, which nearly made him pass out. The vertigo he hadn’t known was there reared its ugly head, and he made sure to settle down before re-analyzing the screen.
[Race: ____________
Please select your race from the drop-down menu to continue.
Class: ____________
Please select your class from the drop-down menu to continue.
Stat Points Available: 25
Stats:
STR: 8
DEX: 8
CON: 8
INT: 8
WIS: 8
CHA: 8
LUC: 8
Please fully apply all of your unallocated Stat Points to continue.]
Yet again, Ross stood in contemplation. He wanted to apply his stats first, but the screen wouldn’t let him. It looked like the first requirement was to select a Race. He wrinkled his nose before selecting the blank space. A list of several dozen species popped up in a menu, and without thinking, Ross scrolled as though he were on a tablet. It looked like a vast majority of the options were unselectable. Most of them were monstrous races, though, such as Illithid or Hag. When he saw Firbolg, he actually laughed out loud. He’d never heard of such a weird-sounding species before in his entire time playing fantasy games, and he clicked on it for more information. He wondered if it was some kind of goblin, or maybe-
[Thank you for selecting your race. It has been locked in, and your Racial Stat Points
have been appropriately applied.
Race: Firbolg
Class: ____________
Please select your class from the drop-down menu to continue.
Stat Points Available: 25
Stats:
STR: 11
DEX: 8
CON: 10
INT: 8
WIS: 9
CHA: 8
LUC: 8
Please fully apply all of your unallocated Stat Points to continue.]
He cursed, then let out an agitated breath. Of course it was an automatic lock-in. Why it gave him no additional information in the first place, though, was beyond Ross. The most likely thing he could think of was that it was in his mind from seeing the name a long time ago, and placed it here? He didn’t recall seeing it before, though - that would have to have been a buried memory. He scratched his head, then pressed the blank space next to Class.
[Your stats have prevented several classes from being selected at this time.
Being a Firbolg means you cannot multi-class due to Racial Trait: Hermit.
WARNING: Be careful when selecting your class. It will be the only class you will ever unlock. You cannot change your first class later.
Class Options:
Defender
Berserker
Fighter
Druid]
He let out an annoyed scoff. If he had known the selections would be set in stone, he would have looked at them a lot more thoroughly. Then, he mentally smacked himself. He was getting far too detail-oriented for a mental construct like this. He laughed at himself for a moment before observing his limited options. He decided to look at it like he was playing an actual role playing game, for shits and giggles.
Ross supposed Druid could be fun, and he imagined whatever that Hermit trait was, it’d give him some bonuses. Though a power fantasy could be fun, he ultimately decided against min-maxing. He’d never been a fan of that, and rather enjoyed putting together the puzzle pieces of a class and race not fitting together well.
Fighter was, as for anyone else playing tabletop RPGs, the most basic option. It provided the most possibilities, but very little actual flavor. This was something else Ross didn’t particularly care for; he liked his backstories. Berserker held the same sort of story limitations as Fighter, though it was more promising. He almost clicked on it before remembering the Firbolg bull that hindered his options and thought better of it.
The only class on the list he saw that was at all interesting was Defender. It seemed to be as vague as Fighter, but something about it intrigued Ross. His mind considered the idea of replicating a particular individual who mainly used a shield in combat from a show he started to follow relatively recently. He grinned, and selected the Defender class. His screen glitched for a moment, and not gently. The entire thing threatened to shatter and rip itself apart, and Ross took a step back, yet again falling on his rear. He tried scooting away, but the screen stayed in the exact same position within his view. After a few seconds, it fully froze, then flashed to a new screen. Ross gaped at the information flooding his vision.
[Trait: Shock Absorber has reacted with Class: Defender. New Subclass created. New Class abilities created. New Class abilities unlocked. New Subclass abilities created. New Subclass abilities unlocked.
Finish Character Creation to see details.
Level: 1
Class: Defender
New Ability: Endurance I
New Ability: Armorless Defense I
New Ability: Health Regen I
New Ability: Unarmed Combat I
New Ability: Protector I
Subclass: Full Counter
New Ability: Grazing Blow
New Ability: True Absorption
New Ability: Unheeding Strikes
New Ability: Overwhelming Reversal
New Ability: Kinetic Regeneration
New Ability: Retaliation
New Ability: Full Counter I
Unable to select abilities; Creation of a new Subclass auto-selects abilities.]
Ross shook his head before rubbing his eyes. He stared intently at the abilities listed
before him. If he’d been this creative, how come it hadn’t come up before? He could have gotten a far better job, most likely without going through the hassle of a Bachelor’s like he had been. Mentally smacking himself again, he sighed, clicking the small X in the upper right-hand corner. Returning to his stats, he was finally able to re-allocate them. Grinning, he decided on a build that was well beyond consideration for the average person.
[Race: Firbolg
Class: Defender
Subclass: Full Counter
Stat Points Available: 0
Stats:
STR: 20
DEX: 12
CON: 10
INT: 10
WIS: 10
CHA: 10
LUC: 15
Please press Accept to continue.]
The stats he’d altered seemed very similar to a particular tabletop game he played a ton when he had more time. College tended to strip free time off of him, keeping his already meager social life on the back foot. Though, that seventh one was new. He assumed it was Luck or something akin to it, though what that could mean was beyond him. His brain was getting fuzzier by the moment. He pressed Accept.
[Please imagine any new, purely cosmetic details you would like in {Terraegnus}. Once at least one is selected, please press Accept to continue.]
For the briefest of moments, Ross’s mind wandered to those classic films with fisticuff faceoffs. He wasn’t sure why, but the idea of having a handlebar mustache. He smiled warmly at the memory of sitting with one of his close friends, Sean. The thought made him realize that an old high school friend, Sean, very well should have been the one having this kind of lucid dream. It seemed like the situation was built for a main character, what with new subclasses and custom Traits and such.
Sean was very much main character material. He was built like a tree, with his face always cleanly shaven. His raven black hair was always elegantly brushed back, trimmed to shoulder length. His perfectly tanned skin sported not a single trace of acne, and his cleanly trimmed nails and beard were something to behold senior year. He always had at least half a dozen girls swooning over him, but never seemed to be in a relationship. He leapt at any opportunity to expand his portfolio of experiences, being the captain of three separate sports teams over his high school career. He also worked as the chief editor for the school's promotional videos and was the first person in the history of the county's schools to pass not only the written test, but the field test for driving with perfect scores across the board. It seemed like anything he did, he excelled at.
Meanwhile, the only thing Ross had going for him was his comedy. He had expert comedic timing and social awareness, though due to being shoved out of any circle he tried to enter courtesy of his heft, oily red hair and nasally voice peppered with ferocious acne, nobody really gave him the chance to exercise those traits. He was surprised when Sean approached him, asking Ross to join the popular kids at lunch the first day of that year.
Sean was a year ahead of Ross in college, but you couldn’t tell by looking at either. While Ross himself had looked like a 50-year-old man in a teenager’s body with crow’s feet and bags the size of airliners under his eyes, while Sean looked to be the peak of human evolution. Despite loathing his friend for his exceptional traits, Ross still felt grateful to him for the company he offered.
After a while, Ross’s hazy brain drifted back to the screen at hand, and a single item was marked on it.
[Cosmetic Trait(s): Handlebar Mustache.
Character Creation: Complete.
Now entering {Terraegnus}.]
“What do you mean ‘entering’-” he began, before being abruptly cut off by a falling feeling. The floor gave way to blue skies, the ground below fully wild forests. He’d think it beautiful if he weren’t falling through the air above the cloud layer. This is still a lucid dream. This is a lucid… Dream… he muttered. The haze that had been in his brain was gone. His body felt very real, as did the wind whipping against it. His skin was a shade of gray somewhere between gunmetal and slate, and he could see his now-massive nose obscuring just a bit of his lower vision. If he looked hard, he could see a white handlebar mustache flapping in the wind right in front of his expanded schnoz. He felt a full head of hair flapping in the breeze as well, far more hair than he had before. Luckily for his ears, he couldn’t hear himself screaming over the whipping wind or he might have gone deaf.
It didn’t take his new throat long to become hoarse.
When he realized he had a new throat, Ross truly began to freak out.
This wasn’t a lucid dream or hallucination. Somehow, this was happening. Regardless of laws he’d known of nature or physics, this was happening. Had he been in a better place, he might have stopped to try and figure out more about his current state.
Unfortunately, he was falling at terminal velocity by now and had no way to slow down.