Brief author’s note: This is not a story for children. The opinions expressed by the characters in this story do not reflect the opinions of the author.
When Miss Mckenzie spoke, it was with a happy, high-pitched voice, as if she were entertaining preschoolers instead of teaching history in an IRL community college. When she spoke to me, it was with the tone of someone scolding a puppy that just shat on the couch.
Classes had ended five minutes ago and there was no way in hell that I was going to stay in that dumpy building for a minute longer. Unfortunately, the five-foot-nothing bint was waving her finger in my face and standing between me and freedom.
“Mr Reid,” she began. “Mr Reid, I respect your right to have an... opinion in my class. Nonetheless; you cannot mock other students. It is disrespectful and rude. If you want to express your opinion so much you can jack in at home and take classes from there. The reason this kind of class exists is so that you can spend time with actual people. That won’t last if you keep acting the way you are.”
“I know, but they’re so,” I paused, pressing two fingers and a thumb to my mouth like an Italian chef looking over a masterpiece. “So stupid,” I finally said.
Her eyes flashed dangerously. “That may be Mr Reid but--”
“Wait, wait, did you just admit that your students are stupid?”
I watched in equal parts fascination and glee as the last bit of the conversation replayed in her mind. She flushed and poked me in the chest. “Mr Reid. You are a bright young man. Perhaps one that ought to learn to control his tongue a little better, but bright nonetheless. If you only applied yourself a little more and spent less time insulting your classmates--”
“But it’s so easy,” I whined, cutting her off mid-sentence. “Also, it’s fun. Speaking of fun. Class ended a few minutes ago. I wanna go home, eat, do my homework, then watch some kinky porn while touching myself. I’ve got shit to do.”
She sputtered, face reddening as she stood just a little straighter. “Mr Reid, you’re not in high school any more. I could have you punished for such insolence.”
“Oh, punishment huh?” I winked at her. “Well damn, I guess I’ll be looking up teacher-student kinks tonight. I’ll be thinking of you!” I called over my shoulder as I brushed past her.
“M-Mr Reid! Mr Reid, I wasn’t done,” she shouted down the corridor.
A few students glanced my way, but I ignored both them and the pissed off teacher as I walked along. The streaming mass of young adults gave way and I found myself walking onto one of the open floors of the college building. It was one of those little ‘parks’ where the roof was high enough to accomodate a few dozen trees and maybe a footballfield’s worth of actual grass.
It was one of those days where the ecologists decided to turn up to artificial sunshine to kill off the last of winter’s chill. Short skirts and brighter clothes were the order of the day. There was a festive scent to the air as the student body got used to being able to stay outside for more than a minute without getting frost bitten.
There were, of course, the usual groups. Some polo-wearing bastards were flinging a frisbee on the lawn. The STEM students were looking around with narrowed eyes while rushing to get back indoors. And, of course, there was a small flock of kids around the school’s most popular student.
Dean Michaels
Metalsmith
The words floated a foot or so atop his head, easily visible above the crowd of gawkers and groupies. And it was authentic, none of that blurriness that came with a hologram or a projection, he was the real deal, an honest to god Awakened.
I’m not the sort of guy that wants to hang around those that are popular, nor do I care much for gossip and whatnot. Still, even I had to admit that I strained my neck to take a look at Dean. For every ten thousand or so people in North America, there was one Awakened.
The Awakened were almost all miniature celebrities and not just because they were the only ones that could fight off the Insanity. There were Awakened gang-leaders and politicians, firefighters, criminals and sponsored heroes; anything little kids wanted to be when they grew up but kicked up to eleven. Every corp from Walmart to Amazon to Utopia Industries wanted their hands on the Awakened.
I kept moving and reached the outer edges of the campus. I walked off the main pathways and through a little alley that lead down and to one of the public transfer stations. There were still students here and there, talking, texting or going on about their day, but there were far fewer. Enough that I noticed the three boys following me after only a few dozen steps.
I stayed quiet for once, a small smile gracing my lips as I hitched up my bag and tried to place the faces of my new fanclub. They were in some of my classes, that much I knew. The tubbiest one was definitely in the history class I’d walked out of. I had vivid and pleasurable memories of asking him if he was the cause of the last famine. Shaking my head and putting the thought aside, I began to veer off the and towards a parking lot when a hand grabbed me by the elbow.
“Come on, Richard, we’re heading this way,” the tallest of the boys said. I recall seeing him playing for the school’s hockey team a while back. He was a big fellow and it showed as he pulled me along after him.
“You know, some people say that holding hands is first base. Hands. That’s my elbow. If you want to progress this relationship you might want to start on the right foot... or hand.”
“Shut up,” he said before picking up the pace. A few folk glanced our way, but they were quick to ignore us. It wasn’t any of their damned business what happened to a stranger. Campus Security would take care of things if they got too violent, or they would had I still kept up my premium payments. I was starting to regret bushing off all their ads.
I’m not one for panicking, but when you’re dragged into an alleyway and shoved up against a waff back-first, well, it was enough to get my heart racing. So I did what I always did when I was nervous, I smiled. “Ah, shit. I forgot my rape-whistle at home. Can I have a raincheck?”
Tall dark and muscly poked me in the chest, hard. “Shut up. We’re going to have a conversation, and by that I mean I’m going to talk and you’re going to listen.”
“That’s not much--” I tried to say, only to reel back as a firm hand slapped me across the face.
I blinked a few times and reached up to touch my sore cheek. It wasn’t the hardest slap I’d ever gotten, but it sure as hell shut me up. One of the boys, not tall and dark or tubby, but the extra, snorted, pulled out a can of LVL-UP and popped the tab. “This is fun,” he said before taking a sip.
“I walked into Mrs McKenzie’s class and she was crying. Turns out you were a right asshole to her. I don’t mind when you talk out of turn. Hell, sometimes you’re even funny. But you’re starting to go to far, Richard,” Tall and dark said.
“Yeah, and I want you to apologize,” said tubby. “You made fun of me in front of everyone today. That shit’s not cool.”
I blinked a few times, eyes going from one boy to the next, then pointed at my mouth and raised one eyebrow. “Yeah, you can speak,” tall and dark said.
“Oh, cool. Love speaking. One of my favourite hobbies. Now, I don’t know what sort of crush you’ve got on the history teacher, but I can understand. She’s almost cute. Still, I’m not open to threesomes when it’s two dudes and one milf.”
I would have gone on, but tall and dark slugged my across the jaw and I found myself on one knee, the world spinning around me. “She’s my mom, you stupid shit,” he yelled at me. Bit of a miscalculation there.
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I spat blood.
“You,” I said, my voice raw, “are a right bunch of assholes, you know that? Christ, you made my jacket all dirty and shit. I’ll need to get it dry-cleaned now.” I hacked a cough to suck back some of the blood that trickled down my throat. The three boys across from me didn’t seem impressed by the display. Maybe it was because they outnumbered me. Maybe it was because I was cornered, steel walls raising up on either side and behind. Maybe it was because, even after getting slapped around, I was still talking shit.
“Richard,” The history teacher’s offspring said. “Couldn’t you, I don’t know, shut up? Come on, we’ll bring you to the nurse’s office, get your jaw checked out.”
“Just ‘cause I said all those things about your mom,” I said, my face twisting in a grin that showed off bloody gums. “And that one thing about tubby’s obese ass.”
“My name’s Tim.”
“Shut up, fatso,” I shot back. “Your betters--and by that I mean me--are talking. Where was I before tubby interrupted?” My rhetorical question was met with three darkening looks. “Oh right, just because the lot of you have whores for mothers, and you,” I pointed at Tim. “Think that Twinkies are part of a balanced diet, doesn’t give you little shits the right to push me around.” I twisted my head to one side until my neck clicked.
“God. We’ve dealt with your shit since middle school. When the hell are you going to grow up?” He started to walk forwards, hand balling into a fist at his side.
“Wait, wait, wait,” I said, hands raising up in surrender. “Just, hear me out guys. I... I’m sorry. I had a tough life, okay? My dad left me and my ma’ alone years back, and I’ve been trying hard to keep things together at home, you know?” I swallowed, and looked down, eyes brimming with unshed tears. “I’m smart, you all know it. And if I rub it in sometimes, it’s because deep down, under this beautiful face, I’m hiding a deep well of insecurity and doubt.”
The boys paused, the two at the back sharing a quick glance. “You’re sorry?” Tim said.
“Yeah,” I agreed. “I’m sorry that I have to deal with little two-bit side character, NPCs like you on a daily basis. I’m sorry that you’ll never be as pretty or as clever as me. I’m sorry that, when you look back in twenty years after beating your third wife for not microwaving your chicken nuggets enough, you’ll remember the times you spent in the same room as me as the best moments of the sorry excuses that pass for your lives.” My grin returned. “And I’m sorry that you’re dumb enough to believe half the shit I spou--”
My words cut off with a grunt as a hard fist rammed against my cheek.
With a startled cough, I sprawled backwards and onto my side, hands scraping on the alley’s uneven ground as I scrambled for purchase. My backpack had torn open, spilling out notebooks and papers everywhere.
Before I could find my feet, Tim stepped forwards and kicked me in the ribs. “Oh, shit, Timmy, you kick like a fatass. Don’t skip gym class,” I said between pants. It earned me another kick, this time in the stomach.
“You’re a dick, Richard. A real piece of work,” Tim shouted down at me.
“Please, you wouldn’t know work if it walked into the room with a bag full of timbits.”
Tim pulled his leg back for another swing, but one of his friends grabbed him by the elbow and stopped him. “Leave him. We’ll get into enough trouble if they find him like this,” the boy said.
“Aww, are you concerned for me?” I said. I was pressing a hand against the tender spot on my side, right below the ribcage. That was going to leave one hell of a bruise. Tim had some weight to him, and that translated well to kicks. “You know what, next time I’m humping that whale mother of yours I’ll remember your generosity. I’ll nut inside her, just for you--”
I was cut off by a boot to the face. “Shut the hell up!”
There was a snap as something broke and I found myself blinking away tears while blood streamed down my face and into my mouth. There was another blow, this time right in my kidneys. I couldn’t bite back the scream that tore out of my throat. “You ath. Ah gonnah fuch you hup!” I shouted, words mangled by my broken nose.
“You dick, don’t you know when to stop?” Tim said before stomping down on my side. “You’re a bully, a... an ass. No one likes you, Richard. Just, just shut up!” His next blow hit me on side of the head. “You’re insane!”
My skull cracked against the pavement and I saw a flash of black and white, stars filling my vision even as creeping dizziness washed over me like a rising tide. For a few seconds I thought that was it, that I was going to die in some dirty alleyway because I’d poked fun at someone’s mom. I opened his mouth to retort, to insult him one last time even though I was having difficulty stringing the words of an insult together. Instead, I retched, vomiting a mouthful of blood and saliva that dribbled down my chin.
The boys argued behind me. One of them thought they’d gone too far, that they should call for help. The others weren’t so sure, they said that I hadn’t learned my lesson yet.
Me, learn my lesson? Those three little shits. I didn’t even know two of their names. They were specks; unimportant background characters.
Tears mingled with the blood on my face as I cried, then started to laugh at the same time. It was a nasally laugh that had blood draining down my gullet. I swallowed back to clear my throat, to make sure my next words would be heard loud and clear. “You’re, you’re all mediocre!”
The world went quiet.
I paused, blinking back tears. I was in a vast ocean of nothing. Not white, not black, an absolute absence that I couldn’t quite fathom as anything other that ‘nothing.’
I still hurt, my mind was still spinning, but it was as though I was separated from it all. “What?”
Something whispered in my ear and mind, a voice neither male nor female that came from everywhere.
“For it is on the battlefield that the closest of bonds are forged.
Through the fires of Faith, the numbness of Hope and the Infinite Sleep, we watch as you stand before what you know to be True.
Your Faith shall falter, your Hope will wither, you will Awaken; and by these actions we will release your soul and leave you unbound by death.
We are one with the will of the world.
Awaken, Richard Reid, Paladin of the Faithless.”
I gasped, the world, the alleyway, coming back to sharp focus. My ribs ached, there was a throb in my lower back with every heartbeat, and every breath I took sent a wave of pain through the mess that was my nose.
For all that, though, I felt a little lighter, a bit stronger. It was as if I was submerged in deep water, made weightless by my own buoyancy. Blinking up to the sky, I took in the grey words floating a foot above my head for all the world to see.
Richard Reid
Paladin
I laughed, a triumphant, gleeful sound that cut off whatever conversation the nearby boys were having.
I was one of the Awakened. For every ten thousand normal, mediocre idiots there was one of them, one of us, those that could fight back the creeping Insanity and who could grow to become more than just human.
My laughter only grew louder when I saw the shock writ large on the faces of my would-be assailants. Twisting around to push myself up, I got up on shaky feet and grinned. “Would you look at that. I am better than you after all.”
Author’s note: First and foremost: I don’t like author’s notes when I’m reading a story, so this will probably be the only one barring unforeseen exceptions. So, since it’s the only one you’ll see until the end of this first arc, I’ll make it nice and informative.
The idea for this story has been floating around in the back of my mind for a while now, and after writing a few ‘first’ chapters I decided to just up and post what you see here. I’m in no way a great writer, so please forgive any foibles and errors I have made and will make in the future.
Now, onto what you can expect if you decide to move on. I dislike stories, especially in the LitRPG genre, that end each chapter with a skill list and stats. They’re dull and serve as little more than padding. Don’t expect them here. In fact, stats being hidden and viewable only by the person having them will be a plot point moving on. Yes, this will mean that you’ll have to use your memory once in a while because Richard won’t be checking his stats every chapter or even every other chapter. The same for skills, abilities, and passives. Very little time will be devoted to min-maxing.
This is, primarily, an exercise in world building, and is set in North America sometime after 2030 and while the story may touch politics, it won’t do so in any way other than to speculate on how politics would be affected by random people suddenly gaining superhuman abilities.
There will be swearing (if you haven’t noticed it yet) and maybe some light sexual content though nothing pg.18 (or explicit) will appear in this story. If I decide to write something saucier I’ll link it in an author’s note.
Comments are appreciated, criticism will be taken in the spirit that it is given, and attacks on my person or on anyone else in whatever passes for a comments section will be reported. I’m here to write pretty words, not babysit petty fools.
That being said, if you have any questions, feel free to toss them my way and I’ll answer as promptly as I can. I don’t mind spoiling my own stories since that kind of discussion usually helps ideas grow. On that note, I’d appreciate it if spoilers were kept discrete.
On a final note: this story was inspired by Worm, by John C. "Wildbow" McCrae, Forged Destiny, by Coeur al’Aran and Snow Crash, by Neal Stephenson. I’ve done what every writer has done and stole some of their best ideas to see what I could do with them. If any of you sees this, then you have my greatest thanks; your works made me step back and look at things in a new light, I only hope to be half as good as you one day.
Keep warm; stay cool
Edgar A.