Nick’s body was too worn out to do any more training just yet. His brain was too saturated to plot and plan until he had taken some time to decompress. In short, he needed to find something to help him unwind and breathe easy, something… recreational. He laughed when he realized that the concept of having fun for its own sake now felt foreign to his existence.
Back in his old life, he would have turned to his trusty computer or started swiping away at the screen on his phone. Fired up the latest animated series or game and zoned out for hours on end. But Nick didn’t have any of those options here.
On a deeper level, he sensed that even if he had a way to access them, they wouldn’t have the same appeal anymore. Too much had changed since the System entered his life, including Nick himself, for him to truly feel nostalgic about those carefree days parked in front of his wide-screen monitor, idling his life away.
Fortunately, what he did have at his disposal was something even better. A cool alien penthouse that was begging to be explored, including an art gallery that he had only taken a cursory glance at so far.
Having decided how he wanted to spend the next few hours, he walked into the kitchen to make himself a snack, hoping that there were enough ribs left to take the edge off his appetite. Much to his surprise, when Nick opened the fridge and stuck his head inside, the contents had changed since the last time he looked. He was going to be able to eat his fill after all.
Shrugging to himself at the mystery of it all, he reached in and pulled out a frosty carafe of orange juice and a ceramic plate topped with sliced fruit and cheese, seemingly of the normal Earth variety. He dragged a comfy chair and a coffee table into the gallery, then spread his lunch across the tabletop. Nick was already nibbling away by the time that his gaze landed on the first work of art. He had known from the start that he would begin with this painting, in part because it was so much bigger than the rest. The lacquered frame stretched all the way from floor to ceiling and was a good ten feet wide to boot.
Nick knew what he was looking at immediately. He had identified the subject of the piece the moment that he first laid eyes upon the canvas. The intricate swirls of oil and ink depicted an experience that transcended any cultural barriers. An ordeal that had been branded upon the collective soul of the human race. Integration. He rose to his feet to take a closer look, his profile outlined against the exquisite rendition of devastation.
Dominating the center of the piece was the shroud of annihilation. The great glowing pillars in all the colors of the northern lights that had erased three quarters of the human population within a matter of minutes. Unmade everything they had built during their reign as the uncontested kings of Earth.
The luminescent beams exuded an air of menace and inevitability, sending a jolt of fear running down his spine at the dark memories they evoked. The top of the painting revealed a storm-wracked sky. Swirling clouds of purple and pink, so vivid that they seemed to writhe their way across the canvas, heralding the destruction below.
Nick gritted his teeth and faced his feelings head on. The terror and anger. Loss and grief. Horror and wonder that Taltos and the System had left in their wake. Eventually, he was ready to move on and lowered his gaze to take in the rest.
Unlike the rest of the masterwork, the bottom of the painting was murky and indistinct. He had the sense of a great city stretching on for miles. Of the millions of people who called it home. But the fine details were inchoate, like the entire city was dissolving into mist. Disintegrating in the wake of this inescapable global catastrophe.
Long minutes later, he turned away from the painting. While gazing upon the gorgeous rendition was deeply moving and strangely cathartic, it wasn’t helping him out much as far as relaxing was concerned.
Nick plucked a wedge of smoked cheddar from his plate and then turned to face the other wall, walking closer to examine a set of three smaller paintings. Each featured a fantastic landscape, rendered in vivid, flowing colors that reminded him of watercolor, although there were subtle differences that he couldn’t quite put his finger on.
After a few minutes of perusal, he decided that this must be an alien version of the four seasons. A three seasons if you will. Each painting depicted the same rugged landscape. Rolling hills, a serpentine river running through them, and a small wooden house in the distance.
In the first painting, lush blue grass covered everything, reaching up toward the sun high above. In the second, the grass had changed color, taking on an electric yellow hue. The area around the homestead had been cleared; the grass rolled up into massive bales upon which furry red creatures were building nests to guard their young.
In the final scene, pink snow was piled high, obscuring the river, and burying the house to the rafters. In this painting, Nick could see smoke rising from the chimney in billowing waves. He stepped forward to take a closer look, hoping to catch a glimpse of the people inside.
It would be his first chance to get a clear look at a member of an alien species, not counting Pax, who had appeared completely human despite her considerable size, the people in the arena, who had been too far away to make out fine details, and Trell, who had been reduced to a decaying wreck of his former self. He had gotten a good look at the statues above the stands, but their features were obscured by elaborate armor.
Nick had seen Taltos twice as well, but he strongly suspected that the vision of the Mad God he had been granted was nothing more than a convenient illusion the deity wore, rather than his true visage.
Unfortunately, he could only make out the vague profiles of the people inside the cottage, but even that was enough to set his heart racing with the excitement of discovery. After finishing the final scraps of food on his plate, he was ready to continue his tour.
Having examined the walls, it was time to move on to the pair of sculptures displayed in the center of the gallery, each resting upon a marble pedestal that came up to his waist.
The first piece was a complex contraption formed from ornate crystal lenses and fine copper wires. Nick stared at it in perplexion, trying to figure out what he was looking at for a good ten minutes before spotting a gemstone mounted to the base of the pedestal.
Jewel-infused control panels were a technology that he had seen several times since setting foot into the mysterious, magical, multiverse. When he reached out and pressed the gem, a section of the wall became transparent. It was set at just the right angle to let an errant sunbeam engulf the first lens of the sculpture, splitting the beam and guiding it to the crystals deeper within.
In the blink of an eye, dozens of crystal surfaces were dividing the sunlight, throwing wild bands of color across the room. Guided by the complex arrangement of fine wires, the lenses slowly rotated, causing the remarkable lightshow to undulate as if it were alive. Nick was surprised to discover that not all the colors were contained within the spectrum of the rainbow. He caught flashes of metallic copper and molten gold as well, twirling alongside hues that he had as of yet no words to describe.
When he saw a shimmering band of silver the same color as his mana dart, Nick realized what he was looking at. The captivating construction was an artistic rendition of the full spectrum of mana, not merely of light as he had originally assumed. Taken together, the scene was reminiscent of the mind-blowing tapestry that Nick had observed the day before.
While this arrangement lacked the raw vitality, the sense of power and purpose he had witnessed while the System attuned his energetic core, it was still hauntingly beautiful and utterly captivating. Nick found himself spellbound, staring on for at least an hour before touching the gem to deactivate the sculpture, ready to examine the final item on display.
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The object in question was an unadorned golden cube the size of his head. Unlike the rest of the art displayed in the room, this piece didn’t exude any emotion, style, or intention that Nick could understand. Shrugging to himself, he decided that he needed to give it some time to sink in, sitting down in the chair while contemplating the cube.
He gave it his honest best for a good ten minutes before deciding that it wasn’t going to click for him, no matter how hard he tried. Oh well. Not every piece is going to resonate with every viewer. We’re members of entirely different species after all. “Better luck next time.” He reached over and gave the cube a friendly pat, wondering in that moment if his prolonged isolation was getting to him more than he had realized.
The instant that his fingers brushed the surface, sound rose to fill the room. A sweeping, haunting melody that was captivating yet consummately foreign in a way that Nick couldn’t define. That was when it hit him. It’s not a sculpture, it’s a music player. It must operate on a different principle than all the gem-mounted devices I’ve run across.
Nick leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes, and let the music carry him away. It blew his mind to realize that he was listening to a tune composed on an alien world. Conceived of by a mind that had evolved along a completely separate path. Performed on instruments with no earthly equivalent. The music kindled a boundless sense of wonder within him, bringing a smile to his lips and tears to his eyes.
He was the first human being to hear this song, this requiem of longing that transcended the space between worlds. He listened enrapt, committing each note to memory, intent on making the most of this strange and glorious experience. He wouldn’t be able to say how long the song had played when he revisited the memory later. He was drawn completely into the moment, entranced from the first note until the final chord faded away.
Fortunately, this was only the beginning of Nick’s introduction to the music of the multiverse. The next song that emerged from the golden speaker was something else entirely. It began with a deep, rhythmic pounding, reminiscent of the clash of steel against steel. Not the measured cadence of a blacksmith working over an anvil, but the clash of weapon striking weapon in a life and death battle. The melody was evocative and entrancing in equal measures. It set his pulse racing and adrenaline flowing into his veins.
More percussive instruments rose to join the clanging beat. Sounds that evoked the slapping of boots against the earth as warriors circled one another, seeking an opening through which to strike, laying their enemies low. Voices rose to complete the melody. A guttural, wordless chanting that summoned images of struggle and loss. Triumph and tragedy. The overall effect was mesmerizing, filling him with manic energy. The need to take part in the music of war. Giving into the impulse, he rose to his feet and began to dance, moving in time with the rhythm of the alien battle chant.
After a while, Nick realized that the music was helping him to become more in tune with the mechanics of his body. It drew his attention to the play of his muscles animating his joints. The feeling of his weight transferring with every step. The balance formed by heels and toes, legs and hips, shoulders and spine.
Lost in the invigorating music, he leapt and spun. Circled, retreated, and advanced, each movement guided by the booming song of war. This experience was completely different from his imagination-fueled shadow boxing. He was responding to emotion and instinct rather than a distinct image of his opponent.
Regardless of how it conveyed the information, he could tell that the music was teaching him something. Deepening his fundamental understanding of the mechanics of motion, the foundation upon which all physical skills are built. The song eventually came to an end, but Nick didn’t stop moving. He adjusted his pace to the rhythm of the next tune and then a dozen more. Hours passed by as he danced, moving his feet in time with the beat, lost in this exquisite trancelike state.
He finally came to a stop when the music ended of its own accord. Nick snapped out of his trance, drenched in sweat and shaking with exertion. He felt remarkably refreshed, despite the fact that he had pushed his body to the point of exhaustion. He wasn’t sure if these songs were infused with some manner of magic, or if his experience had been the culmination of the recent changes he had undergone. Either way, it was a perfect way to end the day.
He opened the display to check the time and saw that dawn was fast approaching. It was time for dinner and a steaming hot bath, then he would be set to pass the fuck out. All in all, it had been an immensely productive and healing day, and he was ready to start working hard first thing in the morning.
Having burned through his body’s reserves, he was rendered ravenous. Ready to stuff his face before slipping into bed with a full belly. Wincing in time with his hunger pangs, Nick walked into the kitchen and opened the blue stone door of the refrigerator, eager to discover what was on the menu this time around.
On this occasion, a fat iron pot covered with a glass lid was the only thing inside. When he set the container on the counter and pulled off the top, he discovered that the pot was full of chunky beef stew, thick with potatoes, carrots, onions, and a hearty blend of spices.
Stomach growling with anticipation, Nick picked up the stewpot and moved it onto the burner. He turned it on by touching the gem, then poured himself a pitcher of water after drinking his fill from the faucet. While he waited for the stew to warm up, he set a place for himself at the table, wondering idly where all the food was coming from. If the System was transporting it from the pieces of Earth it had stolen or generating it from scratch, like a magic-powered Star Trek replicator.
Before long, a savory aroma filled the air, and Nick couldn’t wait any longer. He grabbed a ladle from a rack on the wall and eagerly filled his bowl to the brim. He dipped in his spoon, scooped up a fat piece of steak and potatoes, and stuck the first bite in his mouth.
Delicious, he let out a long sigh of satisfaction, because the stew was so good it brought tears to his eyes. A welcome taste from a home that was so far away. He didn’t bother with his spoon past that point, he just raised the bowl to his lips and drank. In the end, he was scraping the bottom of the pot before his belly was full, his appetite incredible considering that his Survivor trait was effectively doubling the calories he consumed.
He supposed that it made sense when he stopped to mull the matter over. Every day, he was pushing himself far beyond what he would have dreamed possible back in his old life. All that energy has to come from somewhere. Speaking of energy, Nick let out a sleepy yawn and went to take care of the dishes, only to realize that he didn’t need to. That the safe room had been cleaning up after him without him noticing until now. His plate from lunch and mug from breakfast were already back on the shelf, shining and spotless.
This apartment rules. A man could get used to this. It was too bad that the magic housekeeping didn’t extend to his clothing or equipment. He supposed that he would have to wash them by hand in the morning. Blinking back sleep, stomach purring like a kitten, Nick climbed the stairs and ambled into the bathroom, adjusting the knobs on the tub to draw himself a proper bath this time.
As thick wafts of steam rose to fill the air, he turned to look in the mirror. When he met his own gaze, he experienced his greatest surprise of the day by far. The face in the mirror wasn’t the same face that Nick had known all his life. My eyes… what happened to my eyes?
He hadn’t taken a close look at his face last night. He had been too busy checking out his sexy new muscles on top of being fatigued from his recent ordeal. Accompanied by the music of water falling from the faucet to fill the tub below, Nick stared deep into his own eyes. All other thoughts faded away as he took in a pair of irises that had undergone some remarkable changes since he had last examined his own reflection.
The bottom half of each eye, the part below the pupil, was the same greenish hazel that Nick had sported all his life. But the rest was something else entirely. The slice of iris above each pupil had changed, shifting into another color. A hue that he had never seen on any eye before, human or otherwise. There was a band around each pupil that was almost clear, with the lightest threads of silver and green woven within. Above them was where the real changes had occurred. The strange metallic highlights intensified as they rounded the top of each eyeball, forming a mesmerizing sheen of ethereal silver.
These changes were bewildering, magical, and remarkably striking. He suspected that he would turn heads the next time he found himself walking through a crowd. It must have something to do with my new mana affinity, Nick decided after long minutes spent contemplating the dramatic changes to his appearance. The color was the same hue as his mana dart. The silver of pure mana that Nick had beheld after gaining his Force Adept trait.
Now that he knew what he was looking at, he turned his attention to the clear band around each pupil, deciding that it reminded him of the flows of force mana he had witnessed during that strange experience.
While it was concerning on some level to find someone new looking back at him from the other side of the glass, he decided that the overall effect was undeniably awesome. A cosmetic modification far beyond what had been possible back in his old life.
“Nick, meet new Nick.” He took a final lingering look before slipping into the tub, soaking away the stress he had worked into his muscles from his vigorous exercise. He closed his eyes, absorbed by the bliss of hot water surrounding his skin.
Sometime later, Nick rose from the tub, toweled himself dry, slipped between the covers, and promptly fell asleep.