“You know, at a certain point, I am going to run out of energy to be surprised by you,” Lydia said as my face changed shape.

Once I reviewed the information associated with Cell Realignment, I learned that I could either attempt to alter my face manually or use the system as an interactive guide. With the system assisted prompt, I could try out designs generated with the aid of the system, but only select one for use and storage. Alternatively, with the self change, I could do it unlimited times, but I couldn’t store a pattern, and I had to craft the appearance myself. Naturally, I tried to alter it on my own to generate the related skill. However, according to Lydia, these first attempts at controlling my new power were “living nightmares” and “abominations against god.” After ten minutes of no skill triggering, I finally gave in and let my system guide the creation of a new template.

It asked me to imagine the face and body I wanted, and projected an image of the same in front of me. I adjusted the settings so Lydia could see as well.

‘Alright Noah. Who do you want to be your alter ego… Hajime Nagumo?’ I transformed into a silver haired Japanese boy.

Lydia retched. “Why do you only have one eye?”

“I may not have thought this one through.”

‘Also, he’s way to chuuni. Let’s try Sung Jinwoo.’ My face morphed again into a Korean man.

“Is there a reason you want to be a Gifar?”

“A what?”

“You keep changing your skin tone and facial features to those of a Gifarian.”

“Ah. I guess I just love their books, but changing my race might be a bit much.”

‘Also Jinwoo doesn’t exactly have much fun… maybe Merlin Athrawes?’ I changed once to a broadly built young man with a pencil mustache and goatee.

“I like it,” Lydia offered.

I looked it over myself. “Eh. This nose is too big.” In the end, I decided to remove irony as a decision making criteria and chose a certain middle aged American action hero. I confirmed that the hero's image to be stored in the system as my alternate pattern.

‘Damn I’m good looking,’ I thought, catching Lydia staring. “See something you like,” I said while flexing.

“It’s certainly an upgrade.”

“Just try and contain yourself, woman.”

“Don’t worry, if I ever find myself losing control, I’ll remember your personality.”

I chuckled. “Let’s go over the cover story one more time.”

“I promise you, I’ve got it.

“Humor me.”

Lydia sighed. “Listen, they don’t know where the individual traffic comes from, and we’ll be out of there before they notice this gate is back on the grid, but fine. I was out leveling in a border region that has a functioning gate and got into a bad situation. You are a deranged hermit who was born in the woods and lived his life honing his martial skills. You stepped in to help me, and I, with my golden heart, decided to introduce you to the civilized world.”

“Fairly sure that I didn’t use the word ‘deranged,’ but yes.”

“It was implied.”

“You’re the worst.”

Lydia rolled her eyes as she approached the control console. Stooping down, she pressed the side of its base. A panel popped open. Lydia took a cable that was loose and reattached it. The buttons on the console turned blue and glowed.

“That’s it? I was expecting something a bit more… technical.”

“No, The circles are supposed to be incredibly easy to operate and maintain. Idiot proof.”

“Designed with you in mind then?”

“See, obviously deranged.”

“Why do you even know this? I doubt it was covered on a trading card.”

“You do love asking things, don’t you?”

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

I paused at Lydia’s answer. It was the first time she had rebuffed a question. While I found it odd, I respected her privacy and decided not to push.

“Fine, fine. Whatever, priestess.”

Lydia stood up before the control panel and hit a series of six buttons, each turning violet after being pressed. Upon tapping the last, a pool of shimmering light appeared in the doorway.

“You ready?” She asked.

“Let’s go see this brave new world that has such people in it.”

Lydia stared at me, blinking absently.

“Don't worry about it, urchin. I’m ready.”

I approached the portal tentatively, examining it. I moved my hand forward to touch the surface. It was cold and slippery, at least until I was abruptly yanked forward. Instantaneously, I shot out of its other side, only catching myself with my enhanced reflexes. Steadying myself, I looked around. The giant open room I was in had huge skylights and dozens of portals, each unloading an intermittent stream of people. There were sections roped off for what I could only assume were customs checkpoints. Lydia calmly walked out after me.

“I probably should have warned you about that. The gates don’t like it when people are half in, half out.”

I glowered at her as we walked through the hall to the line. Looking around, I observed the people near us. While mostly human, there was a menagerie of races: elves, dwarfs, giants, and orcs, all mixing together. ‘Huh, so that's how a dwarf and giantess would kiss.’

“Is this normal? Do all the species here get along?” I asked.

“There can be tension sometimes, but yes, more or less.”

“That’s actually kind of amazing, where I’m from… in the woods… there's only one species, and we only started getting along with each other recently.”

“Well, until about 70 years ago, inter-species relations were war, slavery and hatred, but that all changed during the invasion. Watch an ogre rip the arms off the scum that killed your friends, and you develop a new appreciation for them. Don’t get me wrong, there still is tension and discrimination, especially in the kingdoms least touched by the war, but it’s not like it was.”

“Huh, it makes sense, I suppose.”

Cutting off our conversation, we reached the front of the line. A tall guard clad in light armor looked us over.

“Where are you coming from?” he asked, sounding bored out of his mind.

“Zaberdeen Wilds Station,” answered Lydia.

“Quite a trip. What were you doing out there?”

“Hunting expedition.”

“Anything to declare?”

Lydia reached into her pockets and pulled out about 40 cores, including ones belonging to the dead Abyssals. The rest stayed hidden away in my inventory.

“A very profitable hunting trip, I see,” the guard said, while eyeing the Abyssal cores.

“Very.”

“Well, since Zaberdeen doesn’t issue exit visas, you’ll have to buy an entry permit here. It’s 2 Imperial Golds each.”

She handed him one of the lesser cores. “Will this work as payment?”

The guard smiled, “It certainly will, but we don’t give change, so I’ll mark the visas as valid through the end of the festival.”

“Amazing, I’ve been looking forward to this for years.”

The guard beamed with hometown pride. “Oh, it definitely is worth the trip.”

‘Lydia didn’t mention a festival before… What is she doing now?’

Lydia and the guard made some small talk that I couldn’t follow while we waited for the paperwork to clear. Eventually, we obtained our visas and exited the building. Looking around, I was stunned. Unconsciously, I had expected the fantasy setting with which I was familiar: medieval architecture, horses, cobblestone streets. What I saw was… different and… glorious. The buildings were made from stone, polished to perfection like marble. Some resembled more traditional buildings like you could see in any city, but others were curved and spiraling, looking more like art than architecture. The streets shimmered as people walked on them. There were some carriages driven by horses, but mixed in were low, flat machines carrying people on treads that were slowly crawling the streets. Finally, the one thing that really struck me were the billboards. The images on them moved, similar to videos, yet had depth as though they were in three dimensions. Without realizing it, I had stopped.

“Yeah, It really is a sight the first time you see it.”

“Where are we?” I asked, still awestruck.

“Dibella, the Jewel of the Ishtarian Empire. City of Sport.”

“City of Sport…” I let the ramifications of that statement stew for a moment. “Lydia… What type of sport?”

Lydia scratched the back of her neck while grinning sheepishly. “The only kind worth playing, combat.”

She looked at me. I looked at her. We both burst out laughing.

“You're a maniac. Although, looking at this place, I can’t say I’m anything but grateful. So what festival is it? Tenkaichi Budokai? Chuunin Examination? Mortal Kombat?”

“...are you making references to things I couldn’t possibly know?”

“I absolutely am.”

Lydia chuckled. “In two months, it’s the Decennial World Open, a quarter year of nonstop games: individual tournaments, small team tournaments, guild tournaments. And it all culminates in the biggest event of all, the Hero League Battle Royale: 10,000 fighters dropped into a 30 mile area. Non stop, no holds barred carnage.” Lydia was practically squealing as she finished the sentence.

“Wait, they kill each other?!?!”

Lydia looked at me, annoyed. “No, of course not. Magic in the arena prevents death. If a killing or maiming blow is registered, it's nullified and the fighter is transported out of the arena.

“Oh, thank god. You looked like you were about to explode with happiness, and I was worried you were some kind of serial killer.”

“Who says I’m not…”

We locked eyes and continued to laugh.

“Let’s go find ourselves a room.”