“Yes, it does appear as though you have been enslaved while we spoke,” Szellem droned.

The man was on Adam’s very last nerve now. He might have started off as an irreverent weirdo, but now he was just being an ass, and that was without mentioning his message. The back and forth of Adam’s emotions wasn’t helping either. He’d been furious, confused, despairing, hopeful, and everything in between all of those. Even several of them at once.

Once more he lashed out. “When the fuck were you planning to tell me I’d been enslaved? Or is that how you label System Assistance? Anybody else want to get in on this? Apparently I’m a universal slave now. Slave to the whole fucking universe! Seriously, is there ANYONE I don’t have to obey anymore? FUCK!”

Attempting to pace, punch things, and wave his arms around wasn’t working well while floating around in his own mind, particularly when it was doing such a piss poor job of keeping him calm, sheltered, and protected. His rage was building higher, and he needed to lash out at something, anything, but he was stuck. “How the fuck do I get out of here? I need out, Gods Dammit! Let me the fuck out!!!” Screaming wasn’t helping with the escape, but it was making him feel slightly better.

As a nice side bonus of being trapped, screaming as loud as he possibly could didn’t seem to hurt his throat at all while stuck in his own mind.

“You can leave when I’ve finished explaining your situation.” Somehow Szellem was back to calm and even toned. Adam was now positive that the man either had the System’s hand in him up to his eyeballs, or he was just some sort of automaton programmed with 101 weird reactions by someone who didn’t understand a single damn thing about people.

“Then hurry the fuck up, will you! I need out of here so I can figure out what the Hells is happening out there.” Adam was starting to lose it somewhat. He was trying very, very hard to not flash back to the last time he felt this trapped, and it wasn’t working well. He focused as hard as he could on Szellem’s next explanation in the hope of distracting himself.

“As I was saying, System Assistance will keep you on the right track to raising your Affinity, but you will need to follow along if you actually want it to rise.”

“Meaning I have to act like the perfect Mother if I want to have a chance at progressing?” He started angry and spiteful, but his voice rose a little at the end indicating a question.

“Correct.”

“Fine. How high do I need to get my Affinity to have a shot at Distillation?”

“The option for Distillation is already unlocked, but it requires you to reach evolution levels to access the menu. You also don’t have to choose Distillation. If you can access the menu, then you can also just Evolve your class.”

“What the f- Nope. Doesn’t matter. How high is that then?”

“Seventy five percent or above.”

“Arrrggg. This is going to suck.” Adam was stalking back and forth in his brainspace now. He had calmed slightly from all encompassing rage, but was starting to sink towards despair again. He needed to increase his Affinity percentage by seventy two. He had three. That was… Ugh, his math skills weren’t good enough to even figure out how many times higher that was. A lot. Way too much. How was…. Nope. Not now. Whine later, get out now.

He wished he had at least a table to pound a fist on. Like that one at the orphanage at the entrance to the boys dorm he had slept in. That little table was sturdy as The Cathedral of Night itself. He could still see it, if he thought hard enough.

Suddenly, that same little table appeared beside him. The same crimson cloth decorated its top, the one Adam could never figure out the reason for. Nothing was ever set on the table, but the cloth was always there, turned a bit so that the corners hung off the straight edges of the small square table. A sigh of relaxation passed his lips as his fist thumped down. The table was just as sturdy and unmoving as it had always been.

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Another thump followed, then Adam looked back at the weird old man. “Alright. What else do I need to know?”

“Study your skills as you grow stronger. Feel how they work with your class. Why they are part of your class. This will help you to work through which skills should be kept during your Distillation or Evolution, as well as how others should be changed.”

“I get to choose? That seems… not right somehow.”

Another of Szellem’s chuckles rolled forth from behind the man’s nasty beard. “Yes. And no. Much like the process of choosing a class works for those without your problems, you will work with the System on how to modify things to better fit you. You will simply not be aware of it happening.”

Adam had to struggle not to even think after that revelation. “Got it. What else do we need to cover before you free me?”

“Nothing else needs to be done, but there are a number of other things I could offer you, and information I can impart if you so wish?” Strangely, this time when the man spoke Adam mentally saw him in a strange black outfit with a coat that was oddly long in the back, like tails.

“Nope, get me out of here,” Adam finally said cheerfully.

“As you wish. Goodbye, Adam.” With his final words, Szellem waved his hand and Adam’s presence vanished.

Szellem did not.

The old man looked around the once empty void. Other than himself, only two things remained. A huge writing board, and a small table.

He sighed, then spoke to himself, “Ah, youth. Always in such a hurry. They never take the time to hear the options. I could have stripped his class and let him go through the normal process, but he never let me get that far.” He looked back up at the writing board hanging in the void. “Then again, this class is remarkable, not that he has any idea what he’s really got here. Should have at least finished reading his status before he left. Kids these days.”

Szellem reached over to a lever that appeared under his hand, then paused. Without Adam there to see it, his smile was significantly less evil looking. It was almost paternal. He pulled his hand back, and the lever disappeared. “No, I’ll let him get through the first portion on his own. Setting it to automatically engage when he encounters children should be good enough. Better leave a note though.” Paper and pen appeared in his hands, and he scrawled out a message.

He stepped to the table and dropped the note, and a small card on it, saying, “Call me if you need me, kid. And good luck. You’re gonna need it.” Szellem vanished. Much faster than he arrived.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Adam awoke in chains. Stacks and stacks, of coils and coils of chains. His first thought was, How the fuck am I breathing with all this weight on me? His second was, Huh, I don’t even notice it. Strangely comfortable. Resolving that there was no way he could move all that metal, he instead looked around as best he could. Not that there was much to see.

He appeared to be in some sort of wooden and cloth box, mostly crammed in the corner. The wall was to one side, and some crates lashed together on the other side. Above him stretched an arc of dark green canvas. Seeing past his chains towards his feet was impossible, so he couldn’t tell what was down there. His hands and legs seemed impossible to move, only his head. With no other options he called out, “Anybody around? I could use a bit of help here.”

Just as he was thinking to call out again, he heard someone approaching. A portion of the canvas near the corner was pulled aside to reveal yet another bearded face. This one at least belonged to a younger man than the last, although he appeared to be in the later stages of middle age. Adam smiled, thinking he would be requesting help, or at least having a conversation. Instead, the man simply grunted and let the canvas fall back down. Shortly, he heard the man walking away.

For a moment all Adam could do was gape at the canvas. He had no idea how to respond to the absolute lack of interest that had been on the man’s face. He might as well have been a rock on the ground for all the man seemed to care. Adam wanted to contemplate the possibilities of why one person could ignore another so deeply, but he heard footsteps returning. Once more he smiled up at the canvas in anticipation. Maybe it would work this time.

The next man who opened the canvas was clean shaven and smiling, something quite reassuring to Adam whose last several interactions with adult men had not gone well. The man’s voice boomed forth, “Ah! Excellent! My new slave has awoken.”

Adam’s streak of terrible luck continued.