Fifteen days. I bite my lip and look around for the source of the scream, but the only thing that’s out of place is a pool of blood growing off in the crystal clear water. At least that’s what it looks like, but I can’t see anything through it, so it has to be some kind of an optical illusion. From the sound of that scream I’m not risking my skin to go for a quick swim to confirm the theory.

“Well. I guess I get what I wished for.” I muse as I push myself to my feet, wincing all the while as sand forces itself into my socks. “God, that is not a good sensation. And… yup, my shoes didn’t come with me. Wonderful.”

I sigh and scratch my arm, then pause. A quick glance confirms that the gold somehow disappeared. There isn’t a Class Card anywhere to be seen, unlike what the text told me, but all this shit is obviously magical. All I have to do is figure out how to use it.

“System.”

Nothing.

“Open? Interface? Status? Class? See Class Card? Access permissions?” I hiss through my teeth and cross my arms. “Information? Help? …Nothing? Seriously? The grand magical thing that teleported me to god knows where can’t understand intent. It spoke English to me, so it has to let me access it in English.”

I look out over the endless stretch of perfectly clear water, then turn and focus on the beach that seems to go on for just as long. So I’m supposed to survive two weeks here with no food, water of dubious quality, and apparently magical abilities that I have no way to access.

I bend down and pull off my useless socks. The sand is soft between my toes, but when I put pressure on it, it almost forms into one solid mass. I try stomping on it a few times to make sure I’m not imagining anything, but no. It’s like that novelty sand you can buy in gift shops, whatever it’s called.

“At least it’ll be easier to walk.” I muse as I start doing exactly that. But I can’t get my mind off the bloody patch a good half-mile offshore.

What died for that? If it was some kind of sea creature, then that might be my only source of food. Or if it was something from the land that wandered into the water, then it was doing a wonderful job hiding itself from me.

“Looks like I’ve got to be careful of literally everything. The thing told me to survive fifteen days. That could mean literal survival–like hunting and finding water–or it could mean things are going to attack me.”

Just like every other city girl, the most survival anything I’ve ever done were a few weekend camping trips with friends. My parents prefer the comfort of a cheap hotel room to the chill and crappy food of a ten-foot tent, and honestly, I don’t blame them for their preferences. Especially since it looks like even the shittiest pup tent is going to be wishful thinking for me.

I come to a slow stop next to a tiny hole in the sand. “Huh. Shouldn’t I be freaking the hell out right about now? I mean, I just got sent across space–and maybe time–to somewhere that might not even technically exist. And magical words just told me that I might die even if I manage to survive fifteen days.”

That sounds panic-worthy to me. Or at least shot-nerves-worthy. Not the weird calm I’m feeling.

“What did that message say I needed again? A thousand ‘Worth’, with the ‘W’ capitalized? Is that like my money or something?” I kick the sand over the hole in thought, then keep moving. “What were the other things it said… Body, Mind, Fate, and… Soul, I think? It called all of them my stats, like an RPG, but I have no idea what the hell they mean. There’s got to be some kind of status screen or pause button I’m just not seeing.”

Nothing that convenient popped out of nowhere. Just stretches of endless sand and sea that were almost indistinguishable from each other.

Almost.

I walk as far as my legs will take me, but even then, I can’t see anything at all. The horizon is just as far off as it had been a few minutes ago. And whatever had screamed before wasn’t showing its ugly mug any time soon, apparently.

“How am I supposed to find anything in this godforsaken place?” I mutter and kick the sand in the hopes that it might give me a random skill. “Okay. No. There’s got to be hints here somewhere, and I’m just not seeing them.”

I look back at the blood in the water. It’s almost gone now, but it almost looks like it won’t completely dissipate. Like some kind of grim reminder to not go in the water. If that isn’t a hint–or a misdirection–then there’s not a hope in hell for me. But that’s not all I’ve seen. There are more tiny holes littering the beach, and they’re opening up and filling in around me. Not many of them, though; three or four of them at a time, spread out over a ten or so foot radius from me.

Aside from those two things, though? Absolutely nothing at all.

“Holes first, I guess. Since the only other option looks like a horrible shark attack.”

I get on my hands and knees and start carefully digging out the sand around one of the holes. It’s difficult work since it keeps hardening just enough that I can’t get my fingers through it, and the sand itself almost feels like a mass of extremely small glass beads. Not the smooth, uneven stuff that most beaches are made of, but a strange uniform material that doesn’t leave a residue on my hands and flows like water when I’m not applying pressure to it.

After a few minutes of trial and error I feel something new with my fingertips. It’s hard all the time–not only when I push on it–and it feels like there’s some kind of inscription on it. The word ‘Worth’ instantly springs to mind, and I carefully excavate the thing until it meets the light of day.

It’s round, slightly bulbous around the middle, and with a simple five-pointed star carved into both sides of it. But not like a starfish–more like the kind of star you’d draw in a connect-the-dots puzzle meant for six year olds. The lines buzz with something that I really hope is magical, and all of the dots are inlaid with tiny white stones.

It’s also only a little bigger than my thumb nail.

“A little sand dollar.” I say flatly as I examine the possibly magical shell. It shudders a little, reminding me that there’s still something alive inside of it. “...Wait. I thought sand dollars were the skeletons of these things. How can there be something alive in it?”

I flip it over to see if the other side’s got the same star pattern. There is, but none of the indents are filled with stones. Maybe something plucked them out already, or maybe the stones were… like… the thing’s eyes. I’m pretty sure I’ve heard about things having rock-like eyes before.

But now I had something to work with. I hold it up at eye level, focus on it as hard as I can, and take a deep breath of anticipation.

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

“Identify.”

Trigger word for opening the Encyclopedia Totalia set to ‘Identify’.

Information on the creature in question is held within.

Cost for information: 5 worth.

Complete the transaction?

“Five worth?” My lips curl into a frown. “That’s a fifth of everything I have. But… how else am I supposed to find out anything about this thing? It’s not like there’s a starter guide for this shit.”

With a heavy heart I confirm the transaction. Five Worth leaves me, and somehow, I feel ever so slightly lesser with the loss. Like I’m less of a person now that I’m only ‘worth’ twenty instead of twenty five.

Payment accepted.

Issuing information for a Mind stat of one.

‘Ghost Quarter: a species of shellfish that closely resembles the skeleton of a sand dollar on Earth. If used in place of Worth in the casting of a spell, utilization of a skill, or of any non-transaction means, carries a Worth of 0.5. Worthless otherwise.

The information suddenly exists in my mind as if I’ve known it all along. I don’t have to put it to memory–whatever this system did to me cemented the knowledge just fine. Better than fine, actually. It doesn’t feel like I’m remembering something when I go to access it, but like it’s a fact that somehow scoured itself into my being.

I flip the ghost quarter like a coin and snatch it out of the air. Something nips at the back of my mind, but it leaves the second I open my hand and look at the thing once again.

“Apparently I can cast spells with you, little ghost.” I tell the thing even though I know it can’t understand me. “If only the damned system would tell me how to do that–then at least I’d have some entertainment while I’m stuck in this godforsaken… beautiful place.”

The waves lap against the sand as the silence lingers on. I palm the ghost quarter and go to put it in my pocket, but am reminded that there aren’t any pockets on my damn suit. And that I accidentally left my purse at the office.

“What kind of a system doesn’t have an introductory spiel? There’s got to be a thousand intricacies with it, but I’m stuck here holding a shellfish and talking to myself.” I crawl over to the next hole in the sand and start digging it out. “At least tell me what the Gambler class does. Then I’d have something to look forward to.”

Time passes a little faster than I expected, and after a while, I have a good little pile of ghost quarters. If I ever learn how to use spells I’ll have all the ammunition I need. The things tingle against my skin a little, like tiny static shocks constantly running up my arm. Instead of hurting, or even feeling uncomfortable, they’re like little injections of caffeine and awareness directly into my bloodstream.

I roll my eyes and keep walking the shoreline. “Glad that the system decided to keep that little tidbit from me. If I had a higher Mind stat, would it have given me more info?”

Honestly, I’m a little insulted that the system only gave me a Mind stat of one. I don’t know what kind of scale it’s on, but unless it gives literally everyone the same starting stats, then it means I’m not as smart as I thought I was. Not that I think I’m a genius–my grades definitely say I’m aggressively average–but I always thought I was… better than that, I guess.

The sand crunches under my feet in such a departure from what I’d gotten used to that it stops me in my tracks. I raise an eyebrow and take a step back, looking for anything out of the norm with a little more desperation than I expected. It’s only been a little over an hour at this point, but it looks like this much nothing is messing with my head.

Absolutely nothing out of the ordinary stares back up at me. My curiosity turns into a frown, and I kneel down awkwardly to run my hands over the sand. Even though nothing looks different, the texture is the complete opposite of what I’m used to. Sand crunches between my fingers if I don’t put pressure on it, and turns to a soft powder when I apply enough force. Which is… actually more normal than before if I think about it.

Warning: you are about to leave the designated ‘safe zone’.

Once you leave, your system will fully activate and the dangers of the zone will be able to sense you.

Think long before you make your decision.

Finally. I stand up straight and carefully clutch my fistful of quarters, wincing as I step onto the uncomfortably rugged sand. Unlike before, it turns soft as I step, making pushing off so much harder. Ten steps tires me out as much as fifty had, and before long I’m cursing the fact that I don’t have a replacement pair of shoes.

Welcome, Gambler. You have emerged from safety far quicker than most.

Your zone has now been synchronized with multiple others.

Your Class Card is now available with the command ‘Call Card’. If you give it to anyone or lose it, know that you can dismiss it with ‘Dismiss Card’. Verbal commands are not needed, though they may help you access the system.

Be on your toes, or die on your knees.

Ominous as hell. But whatever reluctance I have is instantly overshadowed by the burning desire to do literally anything magical. I extend my free hand and open my palm like I’m going to shoot a beam from it, then grin wide as the words spill out of my mouth.

“Call Card.”

Warmth reappears on my arm as gold runs across my shoulders. It slithers down my left arm and winds itself around my fingers, carefully knitting the exact same rectangle I’d seen in the train station in midair. Once all the gold is spent the card shines bright and then smacks into my hand like a baseball.

I raise the card to my face with bated breath. A picture of me is etched into the gold, perfectly replicating what I can only describe as my best side in shining metal.

Shelby Thestalos, Gambler.

Net Worth: 20.

B: 1. M:1. S: 1. F: 2.

←Pull for more information→

Two fingerprints are etched into the metal right next to the arrows. I look down at my full hand and awkwardly shift until I can get both thumbs on the pads, then gently pull the two sides of the card away from each other.

A line of brilliant light separates the thing into perfect halves, then continues to grow and grow as I spread my arms apart. Tabs and an eight long by four high grid appear before my eyes. The first two squares are outlined in stone-white, followed by six squares that are simply gold, and the rest are grayed out.

Inventory / Stats / Skills / Spells / Information

One of the two white-rimmed squares is already filled, but when I try to press on it, cold denial shoots up my arm and makes me flinch away. Understanding comes with it; the system wants me to look over everything in this Class Card before I try to take anything out. I try pressing a ghost quarter to the golden light just to get them out of my hand, and before I can react, golden light swallows the entire pile.

In their place, I now have one more square filled with a picture of the ghost quarter and a counter that says ‘x20’. An attempt to take them out leaves me with another sensation of cold, and this time the understanding feels a little condescending.

“I get it, I get it. Don’t try to take anything out yet.” I mutter as I reach out to tap the next tab.

Warning: hostile entity detected. Entering safe mode.

The thing snaps shut, nearly taking my fingers with it in the process.

“What the hell?!”

I snap all around, looking for the so-called hostile entity. I can’t make anything out on the beach, but just as I realize my mistake, an eruption of wetness and the sound of something breaching the water confirms it.

A body as tall as my shoulders slams to the sand, turning it into a mess of soft powder on impact. Something I can only describe as a shark combined with a great dane shakes the water off its back, then locks its beady black eyes on me. An maw already filled with too many razor sharp teeth opens wide in a horrendous growl, revealing bloody scraps from whatever else the thing had feasted on.

And bits of colourful fabric.

Would you like a tutorial on how to use your spells?

If yes, please confirm a payment of (3) Worth.