I wake up bright and early the following morning after what must have been an amazing night’s sleep. I stretch and enjoy the soft fabrics cradling my body, nuzzling my face into the cool side of the pillow and lazing around for a few brief moments. Chloe’s orders and all.
I am torn as I ponder the implications of our conversation from last night. If my fate is related to that of ‘all universes’, then I obviously need to be uniting everyone together against some sort of nigh-unstoppable threat. But I can’t do that. I just can’t trust people with that secret. Chloe, yes. Her mother, with some hesitation.
But not the army, not the politicians. The people in power can’t be trusted. That left two options, one incredibly ugly, and one seemingly impossible. The ugly option, the one that fills my mind with disgust, is to simply get strong enough, gain enough levels, and then dominate this world. But then I’d be exactly the same as all the others who have tried and failed the path of conquest over the eons.
No, I need to get to the point where I can push forward, become useful, become indispensable, then guide the people of this world and others against whatever threats await us out in the infinite multiverse. That’s what my creators would have wanted. An angel to unite the people together and then lead them toward salvation? I can’t help but feel a little wince at how grandiose and self-important I sound. But, the part of my soul that houses my sealed memories
But either way, the path ahead is clear. I have to get stronger. I can’t allow myself or my potential to be used or controlled by another.
Right now, though, it’s a day of rest.
I turn to Chloe, who’s still sleeping deeply without a care in the world. I wonder what things would be like for me had the System not arrived and I didn’t learn I was reborn from a distant universe? I’d probably be back at school, preparing for the final seven weeks of the semester. Then I’d do one last summer job for a bit of income before moving off to college in August.
An idea pops in my head. I quickly pull out the robot arm from before and my sketchbook, and quickly get to work identifying and tracing all of the glyphs from the robot arm. With my higher [Mind] improving my perception and better intuitive understanding of glyphs from a higher leveled [Basic Glyph Manipulation] skill, I’m able to spot three more small glyphs that I’d previously overlooked as simply being almost imperceptible defect in the glossy sheen that surrounds the metallic carapace.
I also need to identify what metal or alloy this is constructed from. As expected from Ethertech designed and created by the System, it is both lightweight and incredibly sturdy. Even my [Lightning-Sheathed Dagger], when activated, has trouble doing more than scratching its outer hull. More pressingly, and much to my chagrin, the chirping of electrical arcs wakes up Chloe, who rubs her eyes and immediately gives me The Look.
“Seraphina Mortensen, what in the name of the goddesses are you doing? I thought we were going to have a day of rest and relaxation, and that we were not going to charge headlong into more research and studying and fighting things because you, my best friend, need. A. Break!”
“I was just thinking–”
“It better not be about the System. And it sure as hellspawn better not have anything to do with dungeons!”
“Well, I was thinking we might benefit from enlisting some help.”
“Oh?” Chloe sits up and stares at me. “And just what kind of help were you thinking about?”
“I was thinking of heading back to school this afternoon and seeing if any of the science teachers might be interested in such a project. I figured if the power is back, maybe they’re going to try to hold classes.”
“That is–” Chloe pauses and releases the tension from the clenched fists in her hands. “Honestly not the worst idea I’ve ever had. I’m sure we can get some idea of how to move forward. Plus, I’d like to go see everyone else for a change.”
“Do you want to head there now? We can probably get there in time for lunch.”
“Hold on a sec. Let me see if…” Chloe whips out her phone and starts clicking the touchscreen so quickly it makes her look like the [Mechanist] in the room. “Yep, looks like classes are going today.”
“Let me go speak with Alexey real quick before we leave,” I say. “I’m sure we can get some sort of document allowing us back in the city without the cops getting on our asses.”
“Sounds like a good idea. Want to get breakfast first?”
“Damn right I do!” My stomach growls, causing me to blush. “Might need seconds too.”
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A bit after breakfast, and with a writ of passage in hand, the two of us head off toward the city at a light jog. Between our [Boots of Quickness] and Chloe having reached level 14 with a [Vitality] of 35, the two of us can nearly keep up with the slower-moving traffic on the main streets. Still, it takes the better part of an hour before we arrive.
The secretary at the principal’s office gives us a bit of an eye roll as the two of us show up just as the first set of classes ends for the morning. However, I realize as the wave of students piling out into the halls is much smaller than usual. Only about sixty percent of the usual size, give or take. I hope it’s just because families are keeping kids home or needing more time to adapt to the System’s arrival. I shudder at the other possibility.
The second thing I realize is how much discussion there is in the halls about people’s classes and Skills. I think them foolish, so willing to give away such private information about their abilities. Especially here, surrounded by any number of impulsive individuals who might try something stupid, whether to post on social media or to impress their peers.
The third thing I realize is that I’m not the only person who’s not-so-subtly keeping a weapon on their person. Most of them are mundane in nature, but a few of them do give off the subtle glow of [Ether] that I can vaguely make out when I squint just right. The teachers clearly disapprove, but the infraction now carries consequences more akin to ‘put that thing away’ rather than a ‘go to the principal, immediate suspension’. I think they realize that with Chloe and others having spellcaster-type classes, those without need some way of defending themselves.
An errant fist goes flying straight in Chloe’s direction. Before I can intercept, Chloe raises a single hand and blocks it with her [Barrier] ability. The kid, a sophomore named Robert who has a reputation as a bit of a troublemaker, is knocked flat on his ass. His failure and subsequent embarrassment earns more than a few smirks from me and plenty of snickering from the other students.
“Robert!” Mr. Thomson, a history teacher says. “Principal’s Office! Now!”
Robert sneers and sticks his tongue out before racing off in a blur. Before he can get more than a few yards away, I activate my [Boots of Quickness], easily surpassing his speed and grabbing him by the shoulder. Once Mr. Thomson reaches us, I hand the delinquent over and lower my head.
“Apologies if I shouldn’t have gotten involved,” I say. “Been a long couple of weeks.”
“Understood, Seraphina. I know that things have changed and we’re still adjusting to, well, our entire world being turned on its head, but it’s still our job as teachers and adults to handle these sorts of things.”
“Thank you,” I say.
Chloe joins me and we head up to English class. The lecture starts as we go over some passages. Seems that there was an impromptu change in the lessons for the week, featuring an entire unit of science fiction and fantasy literature, featuring some of the classics over the last two hundred years. I’m only half paying attention, looking through my book of glyphs and imagining how they might fit together. Sort of like how authors craft letters into words and then words into sentences.
A good sentence conveys its meaning fluidly and precisely. A great one also does so succinctly. I already have enough experience with my [Glyph Manipulation] skill to realize that trying to link more glyphs together both increases the overall [Ether] cost, as well as the chance for the entire… array, I’ll call it, to fail.
Honestly, being in class again feels kinda weird. I was never like Amari and the other super-geniuses who were all but guaranteed to be the class valedictorians and head off to the most prestigious schools in the country. But I was a good student, a solid mix of A’s in math and science with B’s in history and the humanities.
Now, though, reading the great works of world literature just makes me feel… distant. We analyze stories on the basis that they encompass the human condition. But now that I know I am not, it rings hollow. How can I hope to relate to them or understand them when I am… not?
“Miss Mortensen,” Mr. Richards says. “What do you think?”
His conversation snaps me out of my notes on glyph manipulation. “Sorry, sir. Long week.”
The class laughs.
“It has been for all of us. Now, what do you think would be true about extraterrestrial life compared with humanity?”
I smile. An easy question with a chance to propagandize just a bit. “That species would have to be much better at cooperating among its members and resolving its disputes internally as compared with humans. We went to the moon over fifty years ago, and yet two weeks ago, I would have doubted the chances of even reaching Mars in our lifetime.
“Now that we have the powers of the System, we can’t discount the potential to do so in a matter of years. But not if we continue down the path of fighting amongst ourselves. We can’t assume that we’re alone in the universe; it’s too vast. If there’s an alien race that cooperates and reaches us while we’re all too busy fighting and killing one another like we have been for the last all of human history, then we’re not going to have a chance to repeat that mistake.”
“An interesting answer indeed. Shelby, what do you think?”
I continue listening to the discussion as it gets increasingly heated. Some people believe the arrival of the System is an omen that we are chosen by the capital-G God to hold dominion over not just our planet, but the entire universe. As the idea gets some traction, I worry that my attempt to foster cooperation among the students will backfire completely. But then I get another idea, thinking back to the most recent memory that awakened from within me.
I raise my hand and speak when called upon. “If indeed the System is sent here by a higher power, wouldn’t it be correct that the challenges outside and within our good city could be thought of as ordeals to be overcome?” I pause for a moment. “The dungeons, the monsters outside of town, the Tower that appeared downtown barely a week ago. Those could certainly be considered a way to test our worthiness, both individually and collectively as a group.
“There are two possibilities, of course,” I continue. “We either work together to overcome those challenges as we should, or we continue infighting and maybe one of us does so on our own. But, if there are other, greater powers watching and assessing us, or worse, considering us as potential prey, the first of those seems far more conducive to humanity’s continued existence.”
Fortunately, or perhaps not, the bell rings before anyone else is able to start rebutting me.