Much to my surprise and Mrs. Jacobs’s relief, over the following three days, the political situation enters a strange lull, and society starts to adjust.
We are technically in a period of martial law. Curfews are imposed lasting from half an hour past dusk until dawn. There’s still tension in the air. Tanks occasionally drive past the main streets, and I’m occasionally woken up from sporadic gunfire and monster raids.
Plenty of people have no money or jobs and are doing their best to survive. Some have resorted to less-than-legal ways of doing so, and honestly, I can’t blame the homeless mother stealing formula for her newborn daughter. Civilization has so far endured, and as someone who often got the ass end of it, I don’t know if I’m entirely happy about it.
Our government continues to function, at least to the extent it ever did. Food is rationed, and we’ve had pasta and ground beef for the last two nights. But we still have electricity, running water, heat and air conditioning. The internet is spotty, but Chloe is still able to get on her social media accounts, both to post and to scroll.
I’m a little jealous. My family rarely went hungry, but there were definitely nights of shivering under multiple blankets because we had to leave the heat on fifty-five in the dead of winter. And yet, for Chloe and her mother, their ‘adjustments’ and ‘sacrifices’ are like luxuries compared with my old reality.
On the topic of social media, Chloe keeps tabs of that alongside her daily uploads. There’s started to be a bit of a race among several so-called ‘influencers’ to see who can get the highest level. Some people have already reached level 8 and even 9— allegedly, anyway. Of course, with no one yet able to demonstrably prove they have an [Identify] skill yet, we have nothing to go off but say so. We did have a couple more fights over the past couple of days, so I’m now at level 6 and Chloe tells me that she’s at level 5. Still, falling behind in levels worries me for reasons I can’t fully articulate.
Chloe’s mother went back to work yesterday. She recounted to us last night that there’s a certain degree of foreboding downtown. People are in a state of doublethink, outwardly acting like everything is okay, while privately not believing it themselves.
I would have liked to be able to drive around the city with Chloe to see for myself, but her car got completely busted while it was in the shop. They say it was some looters who broke into their shop the night of the integration. I think it was more that the mechanics all quit once they got their powers. If their work conditions were as shit as I’ve read they can be, I’m not surprised. But I can’t really do anything about it either way.
Chloe’s father was supposed to be home yesterday, but his return has been delayed for an indefinite period of time. Considering how precarious the current political and social situation is, I can’t exactly blame him. Chloe is upset about the change of plans, though. She understands intellectually, but not seeing her father for so long, especially with the world spinning around so quickly, wears down on her. All I can do is try to be a rock for her and support her as best I can.
Speaking of my father, he’s nowhere to be seen, and he hasn’t responded to my calls. I don’t want to think about the obvious implication of that statement. Even with additional reinforcements from the National Guard and armed forces to maintain the old so-called civil order, there’s not nearly the personnel it would take to identify every body that’s found. Glad to see the army is no more functional than the cops when it comes to protecting and serving the people.
There are some rumors circulating online about small groups of people—refugees, really— who are banding together to start new lives away from current civilization. He could be in one of those camps.
And there’s one reason to believe that might be a wise idea. Soon after initialization completed, the System mentioned that there would be ‘further world modifications’ in 120 hours. That timer is currently sitting at just over 34 hours remaining. A lot of anxiety is building across the globe about what exactly will happen.
The official statement from the government is urging calm. Their spokespeople are pointing out that the situation is gradually coming back under control. Utilities and major infrastructure are still operational, proving that leadership is still doing its job of providing and protecting essential services to the masses. They express confidence and solidarity in the government’s ability to rise up to the challenges that lie ahead.
I silently scoff. They never met the challenges in the old world, and I see no reason to believe they will do so in the new. Mrs. Jacobs seems assuaged by it, though. She also hasn’t softened her stance on Chloe and me going to the dungeon. On the other hand, she hasn’t hardened it either.
The plan is still to leave early tomorrow morning. We plan to be back home before the world modifications happen. Not that I expect there to be much safety once the modifications begin.
I’m nearly done gleaning every bit of insight I can from my Hellspawn Pitchfork and the Ether canister. I’ve got a pretty good idea of the basic syntax of constructing Ethertech—which glyphs do what, and how they fit together. I suspect there are a lot more complicated glyphs and rules I’ll have to learn if I want to start crafting more useful equipment. And that means I’ll need to explore more dungeons and acquire more Ethertech items in order to delve further into my class’s potential.
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
In other words, I won’t be building starships to explore the cosmos or even flying around in a suit of mechanized armor anytime soon. I get a distant sense that both are possible as I progress forward with my class. Moreover, the prospect excites me.
Right now, though, I’ve managed to construct two weapons using my current knowledge of Ethertech. For myself, I’ve built a [Simple Blowgun]. Despite the System registering it as such, it packs quite a punch, more akin to a breath-powered miniature railgun than its namesake. When filled with an [Ether Bullet], it rivals many of the shotguns of old in stopping power.
Over the course of my practice with this new ability, I’ve managed to upgrade my [Ether Bullet] skill to Rank III and my [Basic Ether Manipulation] to Rank VII. I’ve also crafted one hundred and eighty more [Ether Bullets] as ammunition. They are mostly stable, but after one partially detonated during the crafting process, I’ve been completely forbidden to bring them inside under any circumstances. I’ve been leaving them in my car instead.
And, no, I did not manage to repair my car. I know it can be done, but modern engines just have too many moving parts, and my knowledge of their inner workings is too limited. I can’t help but curse the fact that I decided to take additional math and physics courses instead of that shop class, but it’s not like I could have known this was going to happen a year ago.
With Chloe’s help and cooperation, I’ve built her a [Crystal-Studded Wand]. Unfortunately, I don’t know any of the glyphs that help with the healing arts, so I’m currently limited to a few glyphs that help channel and store additional [Ether], along with a couple of [Ether Bullets] that she can throw in case of an emergency.
I’ve also managed to re-create most of the glyphs present in the [Hellspawn Pitchfork] and copy them over to my [Cracked Bat]. After infusing it with additional Ether, the System recognizes the upgrades I’ve made to it and has relabeled it as [Fire-Forged Bat]. The Attack stat is listed as +14, which is a sizable upgrade. Sadly, I lose the bonus I get from using improvised weapons when I equip it. I hope that I’ll never again need that bonus, but I certainly am glad it’s there for when I invariably do.
Chloe and I spend the morning going through the basement dungeon one more time. There are no creatures to fight, nor treasure to acquire, but being down there gives us a chance to practice our Skills in relative safety.
I don’t mention this to Chloe, but when I’m practicing or working on my gadgets, I feel more at ease than I do when engaging in resting or other ‘relaxation’ activities. I just can’t shake the feeling that there’s something incredibly dangerous awaiting us. Not the world modifications coming tomorrow evening— those are a known phenomenon. I fear something darker and deeper that lies behind the System itself.
Despite my unspoken unease, we spend the afternoon playing some games. And, just like last time, I get absolutely destroyed. I get sent to jail multiple times in the early game, Chloe buys up all the best properties, including all four railroads, and I end up getting smoked in under twenty minutes. I guess I’ve burned all my good luck getting reincarnated and then getting a powerful unique trait and having a kind and caring best friend to share the apocalypse with. I just hope this spat of bad luck isn’t an ill-omen of things to come.
“Welp, looks like I win again!” Chloe says after I lose four different games over the span of two hours.
“I noticed,” is all I can get out. “It seems I should be glad I didn’t take a [Gambler] class. Or maybe I should see if I can learn a [Card Shark] skill.”
Chloe giggles. “How are you feeling about tomorrow?”
“I feel better than great. Nervous. Mostly in the excited way though. I’m more worried about you; how are you feeling?”
She turns away. “As well as I can be. Just worried about Dad. I’m sure Mom is as well.”
I pull her into a hug. “I’m worried about my father as well. I’m sure they’re both doing okay.” I’m not sure how convincing I sound, but I try to convey sincerity. My hopes are dashed.
“It’s okay, Sera,” she says. “No matter what happens, we’ll have each other. Best friends forever!”
I smile. Our hug is cut short by the sound of the garage door opening and Mrs. Jacobs walking inside.
“Hey Mom,” Chloe says. “How’d things go at the office?”
“Meeting after meeting after meeting! It just never ended, and worst of all, most of them could have been e-mails! I swear they’re just trying to make up work to keep us busy rather than productive. I guess I still have a paycheck though, so I’ll count my blessings. What about you two?”
“I lost every single game,” I say. “None of them were even close!”
“Hah!”
I stare bemused at her mockery, only glaring slightly.
“I told Chloe once that there’s a lucky gene in our family. My mother ended up winning big in Vegas back in ‘76. I ended up marrying her father and landing a series of good jobs in the oil and gas business. And she ended up meeting you.”
“It’s true,” Chloe says. “Even when you have your own problems, you’re always right there to support me whenever I need. And now, with the arrival of the System, I can’t help but feel like you’re a guardian angel sent from across the heavens to protect me.”
Guardian angel? Why does that seem so familiar? Is that why I’m here? To protect Chloe from the System? I don’t know. Memories I shouldn’t know are trying to surface, but they’re being blocked, remaining ever so stubbornly just outside my ability to remember.
Hopefully, our trip into the dungeon tomorrow gives me some answers.