Since the situation was so odd, Chuck wasn't entirely sure it was real. He stared at the woman until she cocked an eyebrow and said, "Hello? Is this thing on? Usually, people are a little more excited when I ask if they want to receive a gift and fight some evil."

Chuck blinked at the little woman, whom he quickly pegged as some type of fairy. She certainly looked like a fairy, given her size and wings. "Sorry!" he exclaimed. "I, uh, this wasn't what I was expecting."

The fairy continued to stare at him quizzically. "You took the pill, no? What did you think would happen, if not this?"

Chuck shrugged. "I guess... I don't know. Do you appear to everyone who takes the pill? I'm wondering if you met my friend recently: tall, brunette, chose a power called Deadshot." That's what Meg had said it was called, right? He thought back, remembering her words--yes, that was it.

The fairy clucked her tongue sympathetically. "Honey, I'm not even here. I'm a... how should I put this?" She tapped her chin in thought. "A manifestation of an idea. You're imagining me. Your mind needed some way to comprehend the magic you've just tapped, so..." She opened her arms wide, which had the pleasant effect of making her breasts jiggle. "Here I am!"

"Oh," Chuck said. But in his mind, he still wasn't bought in.

I'm imagining this, he thought. Still, it's pleasant. Might as well play along.

"So what happens now? How do I choose this, uh, gift?"

The fairy nodded agreeably. "How would you want to choose a gift if this were your superhero origin story?"

Given the amount of time he'd spent considering this question, Chuck actually had an answer. "I always thought it'd be cool to get a power from an ancient spell in some dusty old book," he said. "Nerdy, I know, but I don't think that's been done before. Radioactive spider, alien who gets powers from the sun... that's so cliché. Powers from a mysterious book discovered in the recesses of a forbidden library would be awesome. Either that, or I'd want to win a power on some crazy game show."

"What is it? Dusty book or game show?"

Chuck considered. "Dusty book," he said, and no sooner had the words left his lips than the fairy held up her hands. Clutched between them was a tiny book no bigger than his thumbnail. However, as the fairy handed him the book, it suddenly grew into a leather-backed volume so covered in dust that he couldn't read the title.

"Whoa," Chuck whispered. He knew he was imagining things, but the pages felt so real. "Do I get a random power? Or do I get to choose?"

The fairy smirked at him. "You can choose," she said. "Within reason. Tell me what might interest you, and I can guide you to something the magic can actually give you."

"This is... wild!" Chuck said. Not for the first time, he thought of all the superpowers he could have. Super strength and super speed. Enhanced flexibility, durability, or stamina. Enhanced senses. Teleportation. Precognition. Flight. Invisibility, shapeshifting, or mimicry. The ability to read minds. The list continued, and he found it impossible to choose just one.

But... maybe that was the answer. Perhaps that was the way to get the best of all worlds.

"I like building things," Chuck said. "Is there a power that would give me access to a list of common powers and then show me how to build tools to yield those effects?"

Again, the fairy tapped her chin. "That's cheating. It's like wishing for more wishes. And yet--" She held up a hand before Chuck could protest, "--there is precedent for something like that. It's called artificing."

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

"Artificing." Chuck turned the word over in his mouth. He hadn't heard it before but liked how it sounded. "How would it work, exactly?"

"Coincidentally, it'd work similarly to the process we're going through now." The fairy pointed to the book in Chuck's hands. "You'd get a big ol' dusty book, just like that one. When you want to make something happen, think of an effect, open the book, and bam! You build what you see."

Chuck looked down at the book. Even though this was all imaginary, he felt a hint of suspicion. The fairy made accessing every superpower he could imagine sound a little too easy. In Chuck's experience, pain came with gain. Like building his body, it took hard work to see any appreciable change. But here, he could pop a pill, decide what superpower he wanted, open a book, and... get it?

"What's the catch?" Chuck asked, turning a suspicious eye toward the fairy. As he suspected, she shrugged sheepishly.

"Well, you are committing your soul to everlasting torment," she said. "Kidding! I'm kidding. Initially, the effects you get from whatever you build won't be as powerful as those wielded by a specialist. For instance, if you want to shoot flames and build a flamethrower, the flame won't be as hot or shoot as far as someone who comes to me and says, 'Beautiful fairy, I'd like to shoot flames from my hands.' Does that make sense?"

Chuck nodded. "But you said 'initially.' I can make myself stronger over time?"

"That's generally how improving one's strength works," the fairy said. "With repeated builds of the same type, you'll eventually become more proficient and stronger, as you said. Your handy dandy magic book will keep track of your progress. I can't tell you how long it'll take for your flamethrower to reach the same proficiency as someone who specializes in throwing flames, though I can say that magic--as a force--skews toward balance. You're trading the ease of mastering one effect for the ability to wield many."

That made sense to Chuck. "It seems like a good choice," he said finally. "Are there any other limitations I haven't considered?"

The fairy hopped to her feet and paced across the word 'magic,' which was still emblazoned across Chuck's monitor. When she reached the final letter, she returned to the 'm.'

"Not a limitation, per se, but I want to ensure you understand," she said. "Have you ever heard the phrase 'jack of all trades, master of none'?"

Chuck nodded. "Sure."

"And what do you think about it?"

Chuck shrugged. "I think I'm okay with it," he said slowly. "In video games, I've always preferred characters with more versatility than specialization. It might not be as flashy as, say, shooting flames from my hands, but I think it'll work for me. And it's all moot because this isn't real. Right?"

The fairy rolled her eyes. "Right. As long as you know the limitations and are comfortable with them, I'd say artificing is a strong choice. What do you say? Want to lock that in as your gift?"

"I'm in," Chuck said.

The fairy flashed him a smile. "Awesome! We're done, then. You should be able to read your new book once the pain subsides. Oh! And you'll probably want to take a bath, too. The magic in this pill will open your mana channels, and it doesn't look like they've even been so much as cracked. You are going to stink! The first time is always a doozy, so... good luck!"

She snapped her fingers. The word 'magic' slipped off the monitor, looping around itself as it drifted toward the crack between the desk and the wall. But the fairy had already jumped clear, landing in a dextrous crouch on the desk before him.

"Wait," Chuck said. "Pain?

The fairy stood. "You didn't think superpowers were free, did you?" she said. "Magic always has a cost. Oh, geez, sweetheart. I thought that was so obvious it wasn't worth mentioning."

The book in Chuck's hand started to shake, and he heard a rushing noise as if a wave barreled toward him. "Whoa, whoa, whoa," he said. "I didn't sign up for pain. Hold on, fairy. Can we talk about this?"

The diminutive figure on the desk before Chuck looked over her shoulder. "Uh, I think I'm late for sword practice," she said. "It was great to meet you. Super great. Anyways, got to go!"

As the rushing grew louder, she winked out of existence. The book in Chuck's hands flew open. Before he could stop himself, he looked down, and his eyes went wide. The words... the words on the page were blinding. He screamed, trying to look away, but his body wasn't his own. The rushing grew louder--then louder still. The first wave of pain lanced through him.

Even as Chuck cried in agony, he tried to remember the words he'd seen. But they proved elusive, as ephemeral as the fairy that had, until recently, sat atop the word 'magic' on his monitor.

This isn't real, he told himself. This is my imagination.

But for something imaginary, it sure hurt like hell.