It appeared out of nowhere in my hands, I almost fumbled it.

I examined the blade, a very bland sword with a straight, double-edge which tapered off into a point. No guard, no pommel. It had a handle fit for a two-handed grip with no room to spare and the total length was a meter or so – less reach than I’d’ve liked. It felt weighty but wasn’t all that heavy –a strange sensation.

The odd color struck me, entirely white and the material looked liquid with a gentle flowing glow within. Magic sword. It looked wrong, yet felt right.

My ability to judge swords ended there. I broke my shitty excuse for a stance immediately and took off my winter jacket, then threw it into a corner to get it out of the way. The bone golem didn’t move towards me. Its ‘legs’ had gone rigid, anchored in place was my guess – the ‘arms’ were all menacing though. It chittered.

I didn’t feel particularly rushed and dragged the point of the sword against the ground under its own weight. It dug a slight but visible groove. Sharp magic sword. Plan was to keep it simple, maybe try to get a hit in anywhere and then fuck off. I really wanted to chop one of the ‘legs’ off since it looked unbalanced, but getting there would be the tricky part.

The Errant turned into a hexaped when two of the arms anchored to the sides and it slid forward. Suddenly I felt very rushed. I had maybe 10 meters between us to play with, but almost half of that was the open room. I closed the distance and once I was about a meter out of reach it stopped sliding forwards, then shifted from six legs to four-four. It chittered again.

I swung at the bottom right appendage, claw, without really committing. It was diagonally opposite of the jaw and looked like the second most dangerous. The Errant tried to pull back but I nicked it and cut off the claw tip anyway – didn’t even feel any resistance.

Very sharp magic sword. A rush went through me, my class felt pretty good right about now.

Predictably, the jaw tried to grab my sword. My blade lingered in hopes of slashing it mid-grab. No way could it snatch the weapon out of my hands with no leverage.

Then it reintroduced me to two very hard life lessons. One, assumption was the true mother of all evil. Two, I was a fucking idiot - should’ve kept it simple.

The jaw grabbed the blade all right, I wrenched but the bone golem dropped itself at a slight backwards angle. The tension from pulling combined with its downward momentum jerked me forward. I let go of the sword but it was too little too late. While the talon was out of reach due to the shifted angle, the spiked limb had no such problems and headed right for my face. Mindless reflex and pure adrenaline overwrote my flinch and caused me to shove my left forearm in between.

A sword appeared and intercepted the spiky appendage. I even caught the blow on the flat, which knocked both me and the sword down the hallway a short distance. It was less of a ‘perfect block’ and more of a ‘shitty parry’, if even that. A crash and clang punctuated my maneuver.

I scrambled and picked up one sword while vaguely cognizant that my left bled, but it still remained functional. The pain wasn’t so bad. Yet. I made for my other sword on the floor and...

Oh no.

The jaw grabbed it by the handle and the plummet of my stomach turned into a song in my heart as the hilt exploded and blasted the pincer apart. The clipped sound of bone ricocheting off the walls was like music to my ears. My very sharp magic sword. The sword fragments dissipated in streams of odorless smoke.

I took stock. The jaw had been ruined, while two others were a little damaged. The advantage helped me settle in. I swiped at it while remaining out of reach and only took single step forward before retreating. While quick and overly co-ordinated, the lack of mobility ultimately crippled the monster, especially combined with the damage it had suffered. It attempted to jam my sword between two appendages a few times but it just wasn’t the same anymore and ended up giving me free hits on it instead.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

The ends of the appendages damaged easily but hacking through the spine step by step took ages. Once I’d taken the last leg apart it barely moved anymore. Despite that, I kept hacking and stabbing it both gleefully and methodically. I severed the skull-spine just to be sure, it took a fair few tries. Only after I was done and catching my breath, did I notice how sticky my left arm was – the pain came through now as well. I ignored it, still too pissed off to care. Instead I warily approached the carcass to examine it more carefully - know your enemy and all that.

I jumped and landed on my ass, nearly cut myself on my own sword too. Fucking whispers.

“Think: condense.”

I whispered “personal space”. Good idea though. I stilled and put my ear to the walls, then the ground, trying to hear anything at all. Nothing. Instructions inspired me, to do something else.

I returned to the... corpse? Condense.

A small ugly-ass black and yellow screen popped up. It read ‘Distortion Fragment (1/25)’. Not a bone golem then. Undead still seemed spot on though, despite the lack of supporting evidence.

My interface offered three options. The first was to condense one energy, the second to condense a material - bone meal. The third was to perform a manual harvest. Well, it was something. I picked the energy choice and the remains wafted odorless smoke until only a tiny shiny crystalline shard the size of my pinky-nail was left. It was pretty but alien, with a swirling white fluorescence in the middle of the clear nail - I couldn’t really call it a glow. It reminded me of my sword but not quite as solid... effervescent, perhaps. An idea surfaced and I thought ‘inventory’, apparently in vain.

I snatched my winter jacket off the floor and put the fingernail-shaped crystal in the left pocket - cigs took up the entire right - since that side still had a functional zipper. I grabbed a cigarette too, lit up and set about to review the damage after a coughing fit. My worries settled, function remained and the bleeding wasn’t too bad. It hurt like hell though and constant flinching and swearing accompanied the peeling of my slightly ruined, dark green sweater sleeve.

Figured I might as well try so I thought ‘mending’ at my sweater and again nothing happened. The fight had probably taken a lot longer in my head than it had in practice. There were some scratches on the sides of my forearm which broke the skin but nothing too serious.

Interface.

The class button blinked intermittently. Good. The mana bar was empty. Not good. I could measure time in cigarettes for now so I closed the interface, sat down, and smoked despite my dry throat. I dragged it out a bit on purpose, could hit a good approximation of 10 minutes that way - needed to know the regeneration rate. It had nothing to do with trying my damndest not to think about anything and just be for a bit.

I failed to distract myself with my surroundings. Didn’t notice anything interesting besides the unnaturally smooth texture of it all, apart from the parts damaged by the battle, and the lack of dust. If only my Roomba had been this good… and less vulnerable to cats. Even the creature and my formerly owned sword had left nothing behind.

The stale air quickly downgraded to ‘stale air in a dive bar’ but I couldn’t care less because this was the best smoke I’d ever had. I felt a lot better after taking out my anger on the distortion fra... Errant. I checked my interface for a spell description yet it only mentioned the cost again. The mending cantrip cost ten as well. Goddamnit, I wanted to cry out in frustration. Yeah, alright, breakdowns were scheduled for later because immediate survival had to be the priority right now.

I wouldn’t be sustaining my pack-a-day habit for long and looked around for the other cigarette I’d dropped earlier and found it was mostly there after having gone out on its own. For once I was grateful they did that. I stubbed the lit cigarette and made sure not to smoke the filter, even considered pocketing it. It was a bit dirty now but it was a filter and if my doom-thinking ended up being correct then it was bound to come in handy at some point.

As much as I didn’t want to, should probably break ‘em off before smoking them. I chucked the dirty one. My breathing finally slowed and reality quickly closed in on me again despite my resolution to ignore it, but I still had a distraction or two left.

First up were stats. The System had given my class’ stat boost right after selection and even leveled me up now. My magical endurance had soared to 26 but my manabar still showed empty. That wasn’t good at all. It meant at least 8 hours of waiting for a new sword and a reflexive nudge brought my very sharp magic sword closer. I swung my good arm a few times - definitely faster, but not 40% faster. Then it hit me for the fourth time today. I assumed, but didn’t actually know the baseline.

Well, shit.

I fled my own failures and embraced the blinking class box instead. A new sub tab appeared under ‘Ability’, called ‘Class Skills’. I got a slight dopamine high out of reading that one and promptly selected it, which rewarded me with a prompt.

“Vocalize skill-tag.”

Was a list too much to ask for? I seriously questioned the wisdom of letting people make their own choices. Had nothing against the common folk, but one half was dumber than the other. I wasn’t religious but a prayer for humanity would probably have been appropriate at this point. Then again we’d been smacked by a god-equivalent, so it was probably for the best to avoid drawing any attention from that front.