By the time I’ve collected my things, there have been some developments. Several news sites have uploaded stories on the strange new book, which is causing a global panic. While a book isn't dangerous itself, no one admits to knowing where the books are produced, where the delivery trucks come from, nor can they find anyone working for Your Company.

Some experiments regarding the books have been performed: if someone opens two copies they will be identical, but this is only the case if they're the first person to look inside the book on each occasion. If someone else had looked into one before, then they'll be dissimilar. Additionally, some repetitions have been found, but at this point, they don't really support the most popular theory of the books are generated randomly from a very large database. They're exceptions to the rules.

Nikki understands it like this: “The most simple way of thinking about it, ignoring logistics and details, is that each person has a unique book, and that a person will never get someone else's book if they find a fresh copy. However, as soon as we introduce logistics and details, then it becomes a lot more complicated. But they did it, somehow, because it happened. So instead of ignoring that this is the case, people should be focusing on figuring out why it is.”

I must agree with Nikki, so I tell them this and begin to think. I run estimates through my head, knowing they’re not very likely to be accurate. But even being moderate, the operation seems to need far too many people to be done secretly. It frustrates me. I pace around the room, trying to understand, while Nikki searches the internet for relevant information. After a while, I grow too weary to think anymore, so push the thoughts back and go downstairs to get some water.

The house is still quiet, but I’m sure Nikki’s parents are back by now. They’re upstairs, probably, watching TV or reading in their bedroom. They might even be rehearsing lines – they’re both actors at the local theatre.

At ease with my solitude, I start to fill my glass. Nikki’s parents aren’t bad – they’re easy going enough to let me stay over often, and not so difficult to be around. They even try to interact with Nikki and I, which I appreciate, but it’s unsettling because it’s so different to my family. Our families have never met – and never will now – but if they did I can’t imagine how they’d react to each other. Mine would probably be indifferent. Even Nikki has only met my parents once, but that wasn’t so bad; they, somehow, got on. I start to imagine how it would be if Nikki was the child of my parents instead of me and the image is so fitting it’s eerie.

Margaret – Nikki’s mother who was not upstairs – asks me “Oh, are you staying the night?” which surprises me enough that I drop the glass and scream.

“I’m really, really sorry! I’ll clean it up.” My hands do not react well to being fumbled into shards of glass.

“Jesus, child,” Margaret says, pulling me to the side. She tells me to be quiet – because I’m still apologising over and over – and calm down. She washes my hands and cleans the glass out. At least, I think that’s what she did, because when I next look at my hands, the glass it gone. “I’ll deal with this … just pay me back for the glass sometime?”

“Yes,” I tell her. “Thank you.” I say it again because I said it very softly the first time and I feel like she didn’t hear me. She begins cleaning the glass out of the sink and my legs take me out of the room and upstairs where I see Nikki waiting outside their room.

“What happened?” they ask.

“I dropped a glass.”

“Oh,” they say. “I’ve got a tissue for your face.”

“My face?”

“You’re still crying.”

“Oh.” We return to Nikki’s room, they give me the tissue, and I lie down on the sleeping bag where I try to make myself quiet for a few minutes. Nikki preoccupies themselves by studying their book.

After a while, they ask me if I’ve looked at the page after the contents page of the book. I say no, but turn to it. There is a column of dates at the centre of the page – the first is tomorrow – and the final is six weeks from then. The heading of the page reads: “Point Collection Events” and beneath that “All events begin and end at 06:00 on the same day.”

“Weird,” I say.

“Yes. But I think it'll be interesting to see if anything does happen tomorrow.”

“Like what?”

“No idea. It's not giving any information on what’s actually happening.

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“Well, we're collecting points.”

“Yes but … I suppose this might relate to the other 'points' mentioned in the book, and listed by each entry?”

“It probably does. So, we're able to purchase … whatever is represented by the entries? How?”

“I obviously have no idea.” Nikki yawns. “I think that might be the only sensible line of thinking, but this whole thing isn't sensible. And I'm tired.” Nikki crawls into their bed. “Turn the light off.”

#

I'm being told to wake up. My immediate thought is: It's 06:00.

I open my eyes and see Nikki, fully dressed and standing above me. I close my eyes again and turn over.

“You’re blushing. Fun dreams?”

“Kinda,” I say. They inform me there's been a change in the book and show me the page that once listed dates, but now contains these words:

Thank you very much for obtaining your copy of Your Ideal Selves, Nikki Towers.

I would like to invite you to the Task Board, located where you found this book. On the Task Board, you shall find various tasks in need of doing, as well as the reward points allocated for each task. I wish you the best of luck in achieving your full potential.

Sincerely Yours,

JC

“That's … weird.”

Nikki agrees. “But I'm going to check it out. Does your book say anything?”

Yawning, I open mine and check. There is an identical message, except my full name in place of theirs. “The same.” I stretch out to retrieve the clothes I was wearing yesterday and pull them into the sleeping bag. After getting changed inside it, I jump to my feet. “I'll come with you. But are your parents alright with this?”

“Obviously not, so we're going to have to sneak out. Which I've never done before, so bear with me while I think of a way.”

I sit down on the bed and stretch myself out. Sleeping bags are very restrictive (meaning my efforts to get dressed were far more difficult than they had to be) and I can feel the tension in my muscles. My eyelids want to close, and I’m very tempted to return to bed. Still, I’m more curious about what we’ll find.

“Right, the only way I can think of us leaving is through the front door.”

“You parents won't notice that?”

“Don't think so. As long as we’re careful it won’t make a sound. They're heavy sleepers, in any case.” At that, we head downstairs and to the front of the house. Nikki unlocks the door and opens it quickly.

Rubbing my arms for warmth, I ask, “Should we get more clothes?”

“Not worth risking it,” Nikki says, already outside. I follow. They close and lock the door behind us, and we walk back the same route we took from the crate to here. It’s a very dark night, but some lights are on, and I can see movement in a few houses. We start walking faster, since we want to be there before anyone else – thinking about it, it seems likely that that the area is already cornered off, but we have to try.

“What do you think people are saying about the way that the books changed? Especially given they've addressed everyone by name,” Nikki asks me.

“They're probably very freaked out.”

“Do you think anyone else will be there?”

“There are probably other people– Nikki, did something happen?” I point towards two cars which have crashed gently into nearby buildings. They’ve made chips in the side, but they obviously weren’t going fast enough to cause any damage.

“I guess something must have. But no police … that’s not right.”

We pass through the park that we sat in earlier this morning and continue. It's quieter here so we start to run, less worried about attracting attention. We pass the WHSmith – which is not yet open – and soon return to where this started.

“Woah, there it is …” Nikki says. They sound disappointed and I can see why. The “Task Board” sits where the crate fell, but it is no more than a small noticeboard. One with a furry, green background which you can stick tacks in. Notes are stuck to it and it’s illuminated by fairy lights. We approach.

“Why is there no-one here?” I ask.

“I don’t know … maybe we’re the only ones who care about this enough to check it out? Scratch that; we won’t be. At very least there should be police or something.”

I get tense again and I don’t want to move. I think I might still be dreaming. It feels like a dream. It feels like we got here in no time at all. And it’s so dark … I can’t see anything but the notice board. I can’t see Nikki. I can’t see the moon. I can’t see the stars. What the hell. I can’t see the stars. It’s not cloudy. It’s … I take out my phone and attempt to use it as a torch. But it’s so much effort. My fingers miss all the buttons. Even though I’m moving slowly. Why … it’s just like a dream.

I feel a tug on my arm and collapse down into a ball.

“What are you doing?” Nikki asks me.

I blink a few times. “There are no stars, Nikki.” They look up.

“There aren’t. That’s so unusual. You think it has to do with the books? Or just weird weather?”

“I don’t know.” I’m quiet for a while. Nikki reads the board but doesn’t bother talking to me since they know I won’t be saying anything for a while.

After that while. I stand up and breath out. I look up again and I’m still freaked out, but then I see one star and show Nikki.

“Oh yes. I missed that. Ah, there’s another next to it.” I look again but see nothing. “It’s really close so it looks like one star.” I focus, and it is as Nikki said: there are two stars. “It’s probably a weather thing. In any case I don’t think we can work that out just yet. But read all this. It seems important.”

I look at some of the notes. They read:

50 points

Make an enemy. Write down their name.

20 points

Survey the town. Makes notes on what you see. Return the notes here.

50 points

Make an ally. Write down their name.

6 points

List what you want.

100 points

Defeat your enemy.

“What sort of … tasks are these?”