The dream was long and sweet and wonderful.
In it, I could fly and float and dance in the sky among a thousand, thousand stars.
Free from all the weight of expectations and the burden of the future.
I was happy.
Fulfilled.
Wrapped tightly in a layer of soft, pillowy warmth that left me paralyzed with comfort.
It wasn't that I couldn't get up.
It was that I didn't want to get up.
I felt as if I were cradled in a dozen clean blankets, while the air beyond them was cool. As if I'd gone to bed with a full belly and heavy, weary eyes.
Oh, I was so comfortable. So satisfied.
That the noise felt like a fire alarm, despite it being little more than a distant annoyance.
Worse, it refused to go away.
Coming back again and again as I tried to turn in my cradle. As I tried to tune it out.
"Go away." I finally snapped. "Let me go back to sleep."
Then the noise stopped and I was happy once more.
Until the kick came that is.
I was jolted awake. Wheezing from the pain and coughing.
My eyes searching for the cause and landing on a large bedraggled man.
He looked like someone who'd been swimming in mud and dirt for weeks on end.
His face covered with soot and stained black with scorch marks.
Half the hair on his head was missing. Singed right off from the look of it. Small fires still burning on the few hairs he had left.
His eyes were hard. Bloodshot. Filled with pent-up fury and exhaustion.
He looked so serious... so angry.
"Coach, Homer?"
"Shut the fuck up!!" He bellowed. Kicking me in the ribs and breaking all of them.
I gasped, but could not get my bearings before another kick sent me back into the wall. Then I felt hands grabbing me, before one of them slapped me across the face. Taking out multiple teeth.
"Ya think Nam was joke do you!? You think it was funny!?"
He slapped me again and I felt the rest of my teeth flying. Along with my lower jaw.
Pain flared up. Raw and red.
I tried to scream, but my throat was being held shut.
"And what's with the girls Cecil!? You sick fuck! What's with you mutilating my buddy you piece of shit!?"
He slammed me against the wall and punched me in the gut.
I felt my magic spring into action as soon as the blow landed. My spirit rushing to fix my crippled spine.
He hit me again.
And again.
And again and again and again.
Everything hurt.
Absolutely everything.
I couldn't defend myself. The difference in power was so great that I couldn't even breathe.
Until the blows stopped abruptly and I heard Mr. Robertson's voice somewhere in the distance.
I coughed and crumpled to the ground. Feeling bloody phlegm leaking out of my mouth as I wheezed through my broken mouth.
And I stayed like that for what felt like an eternity.
Suffering. Healing.
Wondering just what the fuck was going on.
Then, I felt my magic run out and wondered how it hadn't run out sooner.
And the world went black.
----------------------------------------
"AAAAAAAHH!! Please don't kill me!!" Were the first words that came out of my mouth upon waking.
I was heaving. Gasping for air while I felt my lungs burn.
I looked around in a panic and realized that this wasn't the Dungeon. That this wasn't even the farm.
I was back in my room and the door had been fixed.
I kept gasping. Drenched in cold sweat as I recalled the near-death experience.
'What? What the fuck just happened? Did I dream that?'
"No." A voice came from the hallway. "You did not just dream that city-boy. You did almost get killed by coach Russell. You were saved by my great Grandpa and Casper. You have, indeed, survived all that and slept through your own body's regeneration. It is now October 15th and you've spent quite a few days in bed. Recovering from what experts would refer to as, having your spine and lungs removed via your asshole."
I blinked at her. Honestly, not even caring that she was in my house.
"Why!?"
Elsie shrugged.
"You can take your pick of reasons. I mean, me and my friends and... well.... your friends, were all excited to kick your ass after the third gassing. That shit's a war-crime by the way. Just in case you weren't already aware."
She said so much nonsense so nonchalantly that all I could do was blink in confusion.
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
"Then, we were really on board for some light torture after you pulled out the Roach-Ammo for your monsters. Nothing too bad, just a few enthusiastic beatings from each person. That shit isn't technically listed as a war-crime, but I'm willing to bet we could get it classified as one in less than an afternoon. I mean, holy shit Cecil. The Dum-Dum rounds were bad enough, but do you have any idea how it feels to have a giant magic bug burrowing inside your skin?"
She shuddered.
"Let me tell you, if your plan was to make everyone hate you before school started, then kudos. You are officially less popular than... actually, I can't think of anyone who even comes close. The only upside is that most people our age and even some of the seniors, are scared to death of you. So congrats. You are not about to be bullied into oblivion. Me and the others are too scared of magic Bedbugs to try anything that would piss you off. You're an evil monster for that by the way. I wouldn't even have thought of it."
She shudder again, before giving me a pitying glance.
"I'm also pretty sure I'm the only friend you've got left."
"What the fuck are you talking about!?" I roared. "What the fuck did I even do!?"
She looked at me apologetically.
"That leads us to the last point. Your core's about to get blacklisted."
She said it with the tone of a doctor informing a parent that their kid had leukemia. Sounding genuinely sad.
"Why!? Why is that!? What does that even mean!? Stop leading me on and tell me what happened!?"
She approached. Sitting on the bed and looking at me.
"Well, about that. It's a lot." She sighed. "To start with, you have an advanced version of a blacklisted Skill. That was one of the skills your Analyzer couldn't pick up on. We're still not sure if it's all that bad, or at least, grandpa is pushing for it to be seen as less bad, but it's still really, really bad. To put it simply, it's a more advanced version of a skill called [Bloodlust]."
I had to blink at the absurdity of such a name.
"Oh, I wouldn't discount it Cecil. It is very much a serious issue. What the original does is slowly whisper things into the person's mind, when they would benefit from acting selfishly. It sounds banal enough, and in that state, it is. But the skill also protects the user from mind-altering effects. When the user is attacked, or when he or she is near death, the skill takes over and changed the person's mindset. By force. Into one that will do anything and I really do mean, anything, to get ahead and stay alive. For your information, this skill is why cores like [Vampire] or [Chimera] or [Banshee] are blacklisted and their bearers monitored, despite most of them being altogether decent people."
"And I have an advanced version of this?" I asked. Suddenly starting to piece it together.
"You do." She confirmed. "Though yours is different in several key ways. For one, you didn't outright murder us all. Even when you had several chances to do so. That, by itself, puts you above most other blacklisted cores and skills. Then there is the fact that you continued supplying the farm with magic and even recreated the first few floors to be easier, after great-Grandpa Carlyle arrived and sent the rest of the farmers down. That let us know there was at least some rational thought going on in your head."
"I have no idea what you're talking about." I told her, dreading every word of the conversation.
"I don't remember any of that."
She nodded.
"Yeah. I figured. That's one of the reasons I'm here." She explained. "Me and mine have a skill just for these kinds of cases. But before I use it, I want you to take a look at your new Analyzer."
"What do you mean my new... HOLY SHIT!!!"
[Level 1 - Last Measurement Recorded.]
[Vitality: 10.8 -> 14.2 (???) - (Continuous physical exertion - carrying loads exceeding 900 Kg over prolonged periods of time. Monster hunting - estimated 941 specimens killed directly. Monster hunting - estimated ??? specimens killed indirectly. Enduring severe physical damage. Enduring severe corrosive damage. Enduring severe psychic damage. Enduring attempted parasitism. Sustaining life-threatening injuries. Being partially devoured. Continuous regeneration. Continuous self-experimentation. Experimentation with skills.)]
[Endurance: 10.3 -> 14.1 (???) - (Continuous physical exertion - carrying loads exceeding 900 Kg over prolonged periods of time. Monster hunting - estimated 941 specimens killed directly. Monster hunting - estimated ??? specimens killed indirectly. Enduring severe physical damage. Enduring severe corrosive damage. Enduring severe psychic damage. Enduring attempted parasitism. Sustaining life-threatening injuries. Being partially devoured. Continuous regeneration. Continuous self-experimentation. Experimentation with skills.)]
[Potency: 8.4 -> 10.1 (???) - (Continuous physical exertion - carrying loads exceeding 900 Kg over prolonged periods of time. Monster hunting - estimated 941 specimens killed directly. Monster hunting - estimated ??? specimens killed indirectly. Enduring severe physical damage. Enduring severe corrosive damage. Enduring severe psychic damage. Enduring attempted parasitism. Sustaining life-threatening injuries. Being partially devoured. Continuous regeneration. Continuous self-experimentation. Experimentation with skills.)]
[Precision: 8.0 -> 10 (???) - (Continuous physical exertion - carrying loads exceeding 900 Kg over prolonged periods of time. Monster hunting - estimated 941 specimens killed directly. Monster hunting - estimated ??? specimens killed indirectly. Enduring severe physical damage. Enduring severe corrosive damage. Enduring severe psychic damage. Enduring attempted parasitism. Sustaining life-threatening injuries. Being partially devoured. Continuous regeneration. Continuous self-experimentation. Experimentation with skills.)]
[Fortitude: 10.2 -> 14.1 (???) - (Continuous physical exertion - carrying loads exceeding 900 Kg over prolonged periods of time. Monster hunting - estimated 941 specimens killed directly. Monster hunting - estimated ??? specimens killed indirectly. Enduring severe physical damage. Enduring severe corrosive damage. Enduring severe psychic damage. Enduring attempted parasitism. Sustaining life-threatening injuries. Being partially devoured. Continuous regeneration. Continuous self-experimentation. Experimentation with skills.)]
[Level 2 - First Measurement Recorded.]
[Vitality: 14.2 -> 28.4 (???) - (Level-Up!)]
[Endurance: 14,1 -> 28.2 (???) - (Level-Up!)]
[Potency: 10.1 -> 20.2 (???) - (Level-Up!)]
[Precision: 10 -> 20 (???) - (Level-Up!)]
[Fortitude: 14.1 -> 28.2 (???) - (Level-Up!)]
[Connection Lost - Measurement Upon Re-Attachment]
[Vitality: 28.4 -> 48.9 (???) - (Insufficient Data)]
[Endurance: 28.2 -> 48.7 (???) - (Insufficient Data)]
[Potency: 20.2 -> 39.5 (???) - (Insufficient Data)]
[Precision: 20 -> 42 (???) - (Insufficient Data)]
[Fortitude: 28.2 -> 48.2 (???) - (Insufficient Data)]
Name:
Cecil Fowler
Core:
[Life] (7th Stage) / Gains skills from: [Adaptation] / [Constitution] / [Healing] / [Hunger] / [Effort] / [Animal] / [Plant]
Level:
2
Vitality:
48.9
Endurance:
48.7
Potency:
39.5
Precision:
42
Fortitude:
48.2
Skills:
[Drain] / [Perseverance] / [Heal] / [Transform] / [Spawn] / [Terraform] / [Over-Mind] / [Dungeoneer] / [Seeker-Mind] / [Assimilate] / [Stored Potential]
"Yeah. We actually had to name three completely new skills because of you. Great-Grandpa Carlyle and Grandpa James went through all your memories and named them based on their effect. You've had [Dungeoneer] and [Seeker-Mind] for a while now. They named a new one [Stored Potential], because they realized you'd been storing digested magic inside your own monsters, which shouldn't be possible and that you'd been storing more magic than your own body could handle inside yourself. You stats were mostly at 35 or so when coach Russell beat the living shit out of you. It took you some time to absorb it all properly. Something else that you shouldn't have been able to do by the way. Most people forcibly level when their stats reach 43 or so. Even reaching stats that high on the 2nd level is absurd. Again, Russell and Homer are geniuses who have abilities that boost the amount of stat points they get and their cap at level 2 was both 43. On two stats."
She shook her head.
"If you think about it, most people with good cores who live here reach level 2 when their stats are around 8 or so. Meaning they reach 16 in level 2, and then they gain an average of 10 points before levelling again. That leaves most level 3s at 78 on their best stats, starting out. With weaker ones capping out at 60 or so. Your stats are insane."
I didn't say anything. I could not say anything.
My eyes still glued to the screen on my wrist.
She waved her hands.
I gaped at her.
She nodded. Her auburn hair swirling as she did so.
I felt a rustle on the bedsheets, as she drew closer.
"Now then, I'm gonna be waking up those memories of yours and you can catch up to the rest of us."
She touched my forehead with a swift motion and I saw.
True evil.