After a couple minutes had passed, I crawled out of my hiding place and climbed down the tree. My stomach rumbled as I looked around – and smelled around. My senses of sight, smell and hearing were inhumanly sharp. I could distinguish the differing stenches of each Hell Pig and commit them to memory. Sniffing along the ground, I could also filter out the individual spoors of their mounts and the disturbingly tasty smell of the dead Hyperboar.
The body was gone, but they’d left the boar’s loot bag lying on the ground. Curious, I went over and gave it a nudge with my snout – and jumped when a holographic Inventory list displayed.
Hyperboar
2 x Cloudberries
4 x Brown Mushroom
Simple Linen Wraps
Bezoar
Poor Hyperboar Hide
Good Pig Brain
I tried to pull the items out with typical V.R game gestures, but nothing happened. “Jeez, okay... ‘take items’? ‘Rip inventory’? ‘Transfer Items’?”
[Items transferred. Check your Inventory for individual item descriptions.]
Sure enough, the bag vanished, and the bits of junk appeared in my own HUD. Better yet: I got some EXP. Well. One EXP. I needed three more points to reach Level 2.
The Hell Pigs’ trail was easy enough to follow. Once I located it by scent, a red haze drifted up from the ground and highlighted their footprints, showing where they’d gone. I held off following it for the time being. Clive and his punks were a much higher level than me, and there were a lot of them. If I was caught and collared by that hillbilly motherfucker, then I wouldn’t be able to save myself, my family, or my sister’s gym teacher. Even worse, if the game’s system compelled me to obey any ‘gladiator’ who put a collar on me, they would possibly even force me to attack and kill innocent people.
Which raised the question: if I was a Gladiator and not just a Legion, did I have these ‘Command Collars’?
I surfed over to my Inventory and opened it. Frowned. Sure enough, I had two collars: one for a Greater Legion, one for a Lesser Legion.
I thought about asking Chorus, but the obvious answer to my question – ‘why the fuck am I here like this?’ - was that something had gone wrong during my upload to this shit pit. I could guess I’d been sent here as some kind of favor to Dimitri, whoever he was, but they’d sent me to the wrong place in the game: Malae, instead of Arcadia. Even so, because I was a Legion and not a human Gladiator, that theoretically meant any asshole could clap one of these collars on me and turn me into their pet killing machine.
Unless…
I extracted the Greater Legion command collar from its slot, and the item appeared in my foreclaws. It was a welded circle of black metal with a hinge at the back and a locking clasp in the front. The metal was etched with runes that rippled with pulsing light. It also looked to be the perfect size for my own neck.
Before I could second-guess my intuition, I reached up, lay the collar around my throat, and snapped the lock shut.
[In an act that is most certainly not symbolic, you have obtained a Greater Legion: Reaper Nemesis (Level 1).]
[You may access your Legion’s… uh… your Prime Ability and Ability Trees.]
[Do you wish to give yourself a name?]
“Uhh… sure.” I scrambled for a sufficiently majestic name: something that would fully embody the extent of my rarity. “… Noodles.”
[Noodles. Of all the…]
[You know… never mind. Please confirm your chosen name.]
“No, wait…” I struck a pose. “‘His Sublime Radiance, M.T Noodles the Fourth. PhD.’”
[… And you’re sure about this?]
“Did I stutter?”
[You cannot change your name once you confirm it. You actually… okay, you know what? This is above my paygrade.]
[Confirm Legion Name: His Sublime Radiance, M.T Noodles the Fourth, PhD. Yes/No?]
“Hell yes.”
And thus, a legend was born.
Satisfied, I closed my HUD, took a deep breath, and thought about what to do next. It was a blessing I didn’t really remember anything about my sister or my dead dog, and how much I might or might not have loved them and hated Dimitri. All that had been scoured from my memory, along with my real name and a bunch of other details. Maybe at some point, the emotions would come roaring back and sock me in the gut. Right now, it was all someone else’s story. That was just as well, because Noodles had one job and one job only: to figure out what this ‘Purgatory’ actually was, and how to survive it.
There was no point in going over my Abilities yet. I had no idea how the system worked and was still Level 1. What I really needed was experience: enough experience to give me ability points to work with. My eyes narrowed as I did some quick mental math and determined I’d probably need between 400 and 500 total EXP to reach Level 10, the bare minimum level I could probably take on the Hell Pigs and win. Once I sunk my teeth into PvP, I was pretty sure I’d level up faster, but being incarnated here as a Legion presented itself with an immediate problem. In most survival games I’d ever played, you gained early levels by picking up sticks and rocks to craft primitive armor and weapons, which you then used to hunt the innocent-but-delicious creatures of the forest. But I didn’t have a crafting menu.
Experimentally, I grasped at a large fallen stick with my foreclaws. “Show crafting options?”
Nothing. Nada.
I tried breaking the stick up into kindling. I put it into my Inventory, which informed me that I now had [8 x Short Sticks] and no EXP. After that, I tried thinking of something I knew how to make: a toggle, like the kind you used to set off small traps. Then I actually tried making it, and ended up with [9 x Short Sticks].
“Hey! Chorus! Is there a crafting system I can access?” I looked toward the sky.
[Uhh… let me see. No. Crafting is only available to human gladiators.]
My eyes narrowed. “Wait. Hold on just a goddamned second. Why don’t I have a crafting menu?”
[I assume that, in their divine wisdom, the creators of Purgatory do not wish to create a Reaper that can manufacture tentacle-compatible machine guns.]
[You are a Legendary-ranked apex predator. Perhaps you should try killing something?]
My tail lashed. “Perhaps you should go shove all four of my tentacles right up your ass?”
[Your proposal is intriguing, but I do not possess an anus and have no way to approximate one.]
“C’mon, man. You’re the god in the machine here, right? Make yourself any damn butthole you want.”
[I most certainly am not ‘God’, and this is a highly inappropriate subject to discuss with your referee.]
“I just want you to achieve your ultimate potential, Chorus. This is me, officially encouraging you to craft the anus of your dreams. Hell: have a different anus for every day of the week. Sea slug. Ravine Trapdoor Spider. Baboon. Get one like a Chinese Swallowtail Butterfly. Then you can see out of it, too.”
Chorus didn’t reply, and its presence withdrew. Maybe it was butthurt over not having the ability to watch itself shit like the rare and lovely Chinese Swallowtail.
Licking my fangs, I considered what to try next. Hunting was probably the best option, but gathering had given me one EXP point, right? I had four legs, a set of jaws full of shredding teeth, and four vascular, energetic punch-puds.
In short, I was a multi-limbed harvesting machine.
I bounded over to one of the glowing berry bushes and ripped it out of the ground. Berries went everywhere. I opened my mouth and caught a few, and sure enough, I got a couple of EXP points. The berries restored a tiny sliver of my Food meter. Satisfied, I flung the bush away and began tearing up everything in sight. Saplings were crushed in the coils of my tentacles. Berries splattered between my fangs, herbs released their volatile oils as I mushed them in my claws. Small mammals squealed in terror as I drove their women and children before them.
[You have gained 10 EXP.]
[You are Level 2. You have gained one Ability Point.]
Success! Mad with power, I put my nose to the ground, padding forward into what remained of the surrounding ferns. It didn’t take long to catch a scent... a scent that smelled suspiciously like chicken.
Oh man. Please be chicken. The smell made my skin vibrate. A double row of spines down my back stiffened as I focused in on the trail, and something in my mind - and body - shifted. My steps got quieter, and I instinctively lifted my claws so that I rested on the thick pads on my feet and didn’t make so much noise. I began to stalk a narrower, slower track, lowering myself down to the ground. The foliage whispered over my hard skin, barely making a sound. The tentacle squad settled down, flattening down and partly retracting out of the way. And then, I heard it.
“Puurrrrr?” A huge, exotic-looking pheasant stuck its head out of a small hollow, head darting back and forward.
I froze like a hunting lion, staring straight ahead.
The bird strutted out into the open, holding its glorious blue tail feathers high. It sauntered over to a big mound, adjusted a few twigs and leaves, then hopped up onto it. It craned its wattled neck, and let out a piercing ‘WAOH WAOH!’ sound, almost like a police car siren.
If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
“Male Argus Pheasant,” I thought to myself. Then, a small mental pause. “... How the hell did I know THAT? And how the hell did I know about the butterfly eyes-butt thing, anyway? I have a fucking phobia of insects.”
I wasn’t just able to identify the bird: I knew things about its behavior I never remembered learning. Those WAOH-WAOH calls it was making? Those were mating calls. And if I hedged my bets right...
There was a rustling from my left. After a couple of seconds, a dull brown pheasant hen poked her beak into the clearing. The male bird hopped down, nearly tripping over himself in excitement, and I realized that the small space covered in leaves was actually the stage for his mating dance. Sure enough, he flared his tail feathers and began to scoot around the female as she pecked at the fallen leaves... and then both of them squawked as my upper tentacles lashed forward like harpoons and nailed both of them into the ground. I pulled back to find the tip of each tenta had ejected ten-inch-long obsidian spikes into the unfortunate birds. So much for my fantasy of ravishing five women at once.
[You have discovered: Argus Pheasant. You can now identify this creature with Keen Senses.]
[You have new Items: Pheasant Plume x 5, Fowl Carcass (Poor Condition) x 2.]
[You gain 20 EXP. You are Level 3. You gain 1 Ability Point.]
The pheasants twitched as I bought one, then the other to my mouth. The smell made my mouth water even as my human mind screeched in protest. Humans didn’t generally want to stuff raw, unplucked birds into their faces, but Reapers sure as hell did. The first chomp told me that yes, I really was a carnivore now – because it was the most delicious thing I’d eaten in my life. Sweet, tender, perfect. The whole pheasant went down the hatch, followed by his plump would-be girlfriend. There was no chewing. Like a crocodile, my jaws couldn’t move from side to side, so I just had to snap and tear them up into pieces and swallow them. Like a chainsaw, but for meat.
Only then did I notice that the scent of the Hell Pigs was starting to fade. I turned my bloody muzzle back to the wind and sniffed, deeply. No more time to fuck around. I had to get as much EXP as fast as possible.
So I charged after the raiders and looted, destroyed, and ate everything in my path.
[You have discovered a new herb: Krachai.]
[You gain 10 EXP. You are Level 4. You gain 1-]
[You have discovered: Cinnamon.]
[You have discovered: Anaconda.]
[You gain 14 EXP. You gain 10 EXP. You gain 5 EXP.]
[Your Legion’s Prime Ability has been unlocked: Soul Drain.]
[You have discovered a new herb: Galangal.]
[You gain 1 Ability Point.]
Young trees, bushes, berries, herbs, small animals… They went into my Inventory or into my stomach as the notifications began flying too fast to follow. The more I harvested, the more in control of my body I felt. The problem with the tentacles was that I’d been trying to use them like human arms, but the drive didn’t come from my shoulders: they came from the muscles in my back and along my ribs. It felt kind of like flexing your abs and your biceps at the same time. When I stopped trying to rotate the tentacles the same way a human would rotate their arms, they stopped windmilling around.
The EXP gain started to slow down dramatically at Level 5, but I Godzilla’d my way through the jungle until I hit Level 7 and maxed out my carry weight. When pulling plants stopped giving me even single EXP, I ground to a halt and started thinking about the Ability Points burning a hole in my pocket. Chorus’s auto notifications had mentioned something about unlocking my ‘Prime Ability,’ whatever that was. I was pretty sure I could stand to assign some points and see if they helped me on my mission to find and rescue Sam.
I brought up my sheet for the first time in a while and did a doubletake when I saw my stats:
M.T Noodles the 4th Ph.D
Reaper (Nemesis): Level 7
Prime Element: Body
Mundane Elements: Psionic/Poison
Class: Legendary
Vitality: 3700/3700 HP
Carry Weight: 202kg (445lb)
Strength: 515
Speed: 758
Stamina: 551/605
Damage: A
Defense: C-
Instincts: S
Prime Ability:
Soul Drain: Temporarily harvest one selected ability and 5 stat points from other Legions on a successful tentacle attack.
Reaper Abilities:
None.
[You have 7 unspent ability points.]
Huh. I’d evolved into the Nemesis tree, but that wasn’t really what dragged my attention. My stats had basically tripled since Level 1 – and I could feel it. I really did feel stronger, faster, keener. I wasn’t punching myself in the face with my own tentacles any more. And now, I had some points to work with.
“Chorus: can you teach me how to get the best out of my abilities?” I asked into the ether. “I promise I won’t talk about butts anymore.”
[Swear on it.]
I sighed. “No butts. Pinky promise.”
[Hmmph. Well… Abilities are relatively straightforward. Greater Legions have two Ability Trees with two branches per tree. Open your Abilities Menu to continue the tutorial.]
I did so. The triangular sigil from before was featured prominently at the top of the menu. Beneath it were the two Ability Trees, now with the bottom-most spheres lit up. The one on the left was titled ‘Predator’. The one on the right was titled ‘Nightshade’.
[Elements and elemental type-matching is a key feature of combat in Survival of the Fittest.]
[All Legions are comprised of three elements: one Prime Element, and two subordinate Mundane Elements. The Prime Element rules your basic physiology, as well as your base Type Strengths and Type Weaknesses.]
The first symbol on my triangle diagram glowed with red light: the circle with the three dots over it.
[Your Prime Element is the Body type. This means you have a bestial form suited for physical combat.]
[As a Body-type Greater Legion, you are strongest when paired against Mind-type Legions and weakest against incorporeal or amorphous Spirit-type Legions.]
[The Body type is strong against the Holy, Plant, Air and Blood elements, dealing double base damage against these types with their normal physical attacks. It is weak against the Poison, Fire, Earth and Metal types, dealing half damage to these elementals with their claws and teeth and taking double damage from their attacks.]
“Okay.” I put my nose to the ground, making sure I could still smell the Hell Pigs’ trail. “Elements. Got it.”
The next symbol on the triangle lit up with brilliant silver light: the one that looked like the planetary sign for Mercury, with a squiggle to one side.
[Your Secondary Type is Psionic, gifting you with powerful psychic attacks. Psionic elemental abilities are strong against Blood-type Legions and human Gladiators, and weak against Metal. This also makes you more vulnerable to firearms.]
The next and final symbol lit up with a deep, malevolent purple glow.
[Your tertiary element is Poison. As a Poison-type Legion, your envenomated attacks are strong against Air elementals, and weak against Dark elementals.]
“Body, Psionic, Poison.” I’d seen those on my sheet already. Now that I knew about the type matching thing, I understood just fine. “Are the elements dynamic? Do they compound or cancel each other out? Like, I’m supposed to be weak to Poison as a Body Legion, but Poison is one of my elements. How does that work?”
[Yes: elements compound and interact dynamically. Concentrate on your Sigil, and you will bring up a table which shows your strengths and weaknesses.]
I did. And sure enough, a table appeared.
Prime Element/Mundane Elements
* Body
* Psionic
* Poison
Strong Against:
* Blood (x3.5)
* Air (x3.5)
* Holy, Plant (x1.5)
Weak Against:
* Metal (x3.5)
* Dark (x2)
* Fire, Earth (x1.5)
Immune to:
* Psionic
* Poison
“Huh. Well, what do you know?” I turned my attention to the two ability trees. There were twenty-five spheres on each tree, five up the middle, and ten to either side of the central column. The lowest sphere on each tree was lit up, and when I hovered over either of them, I got the same description:
Soul Drain
The Reaper Nemesis is named for its ability to harvest other Legions for their powers, stats, and life force.
When you activate Soul Drain during a damage-dealing tentacle attack, time will briefly slow, allowing you to view and pick one Ability from the other Legion that you add to your Reaper’s ability roster for the duration of the battle. The ability must be within the level range accessible by your Reaper. For example: A Level 9 Reaper with access to only Tier 1 abilities may not select the Tier 2 ability of an enemy. They must be Level 10 or above to select Tier 2 powers.
After the ability is selected, time will resume a normal tempo. Your Reaper will also drain and absorb 50 Stat points from a randomly-selected stat (visible or hidden) from their victim. The victim loses those points from that stat until the battle is concluded.
As the Reaper Nemesis levels, this ability increases in power at Level 20, 40, 60, 80, 100, and 115.
The ability and stat drain lasts for the duration of the battle. Soul Drain may be used once per enemy. 30-minute cooldown.
Above this key ability were four softly glowing spheres, two on the Predator Tree and two on the Nightshade Tree. As I looked over them, Chorus spoke again.
[Your Ability Trees offer four different focuses: Attack and Defense/Evasion on the Predator Tree, and elemental Psionic and Poison attacks on the Nightshade Tree. Choose wisely: you will not be able to change your chosen abilities while you remain in The Jungle. To re-spec abilities, you must ascend to the Third Realm.]
Predator (Tier 1)
Murder Mittens: +3% permanent increase to Melee Damage & Max Speed.
Nightshade (Tier 1)
Psychostimulant: The user concentrates and psionically boosts its attack by 20% for 60 seconds. Can only be used once per battle.
Dense Scales: +3% Con & Max Health. Toad Skin: Cover your body in a thick coating of greasy venom. Increases grapple evasion by 20% and Poisons susceptible enemies on oral contact.
Each ability cost 4 points to acquire, and I had 7 to spend. But the hidden Tier 2 abilities also cost 4 points each. By the time I was Level 10, I’d have 10 AP and would be able to choose from more abilities – and potentially acquire two stronger ones than the four currently on offer.
“Yeah. I’ll hold onto those.” I frowned at the next section of the Abilities sheet. There was another ability tree, greyed out, and a blank triangle with no symbols. The triangle pointed down instead of up. “What’s this?”
[That is your Lesser Legion ability array. You have not collared a Lesser Legion, so the menu is inaccessible.]
“Lesser Legions only get one ability tree?”
[You got it. Lesser Legions have pre-determined ability advancement path, gaining Tiered Abilities at the relevant levels. Every Lesser Legion has a semi-randomized array of possible abilities for their Legion type, meaning no two Lesser Legions of the same species are ever truly the same. Many trainers collar and discard multiple Lesser Legions in an attempt to find the best match for their optimized Greater Legion.]
The casual way Chorus talked about ‘discarding’ a Legion turned my stomach.
I turned my head in the direction of the Hell Pigs and breathed in deeply through all of my many nostrils. What my nose told me was both good and bad. The trail was getting cold, but I had to be within a couple miles of Pig Central. The odors of campfires, unwashed bodies, metal, blood, and human suffering blew on the cool evening wind from the north-east.
“Hey, Chorus. While I’ve got your ear for a moment, don’t suppose you can tell me something,” I said. “I had this crazy message in my inbox that was opened before I even woke up. Can you bring up a profile on the sender? Dimitri Solonov.”
There was a pregnant pause.
Chorus’s difficulty in digging up information was starting to weird me out. Even the dumbest A.I still ran on a quantum platform that calculated information millions of times faster than any human brain. They never ‘paused to think,’ or to get their words. I couldn’t remember much, but I remembered that.
[This answer is unavailable. Gladiators may not view the profiles of other gladiators. I suggest you do not make this query again.]
I rumbled softly under my breath. “Why was my message opened, Chorus? Who sent me here? Who was fucking around in my inbox?”
There was no answer. Chorus had withdrawn. Interesting, but not helpful.
I would have to get my own answers. And to do that, I had to believe that I, M.T Noodles the Fourth, was a big enough badass to take on a bunch of Mad Max rejects and their Legions at Level 7 and win.