“Shelby? What’s the holdup?” Pearl asks. “Are you having second thoughts?”
“Second and third thoughts, actually.” I chuckle, but force my finger down to confirm the purchase anyway. It has to happen eventually. “Well, as long as I don’t go under a thousand Worth, I guess I’ll be fine. Let’s see how this works.”
Purchase in progress…
Purchase complete. Skill (Shellborn Aggregate) exchanged for (500) Worth.
Shellborn Aggregate: Force a spell to evolve into its coinbound variation. If it did not previously have a coinbound variation, one is created for the spell.
Cooldown: 30 days.
Evolution Requirements: Have (5) coinbound spells ready to evolve at the same time.
Turning any spell into a coinbound spell sounds… pretty damn overpowered, honestly. Especially if my teleport spell wouldn’t normally have the option to go coinbound. Hell, even in the worst case scenario this skill will save me a good chunk of Worth and a lot of trial and error.
“Shellborn Aggregate. Huh. That doesn’t sound like it should do what it does.” Pearl muses. “Unless the word ‘Aggregate’ has a different meaning on Earth?”
I… don’t have an answer for that. “Honestly, I don’t even know what the word means. I’m guessing it isn’t ‘turn something into something else’?”
It’s Illumisia’s turn to shake her head. “The term usually refers to a singular whole made from many separate other things. Though there are other definitions, none of them seem to apply to this new skill. Unless you stretch your perception and view all coinbound spells as one unified mass.”
“Yeah, that doesn’t sound right.” I agree and activate my new skill. A menu appears out of thin air with room for many different selections, but there’s only one right now; Relocation. I press on it and feel my skill trickle out of me into my Class Card, where it takes hold on the spell and forcibly evolves it.
Coinbound Relocation
Evolution Requirements: ???
Progress: ???/???
Designate an object or person by touching a coin to them. Triggering this spell again causes the designated target and the coin used to cast this spell to trade locations. Fails if the coin’s Worth plus your Soul is less than the target’s Soul(if it has one), or it’s Worth(if it does not). Consenting targets always succeed, regardless of Soul disparity.
This one feels a lot more different compared to my other coinbound spells. Now I have to physically touch the coin to something that I want to teleport, reactivate the spell after designating something to teleport, and it can only teleport something with the coin I use to cast the spell. It’s rife with downsides–that’s for sure–but there’s no way it’s as simple as it seems. Maybe I should’ve played around with plain relocation before I turned it coinbound, just to have another point of reference.
“That is monstrous.”
I frown and look over at Illumisia, who has taken her place with her paws over my shoulders. She actually looks… impressed by the spell. Which definitely means I’m missing something. I go right back to studying the description, even flipping back to the regular relocation’s archive to see the difference, but I just can’t see what makes this one ‘monstrous’. Sure, there’s no more distance modifier for the Worth and mana, which is pretty big, but definitely not monstrous.
“Alright, I’ll bite.” I sigh and gesture at my screen. “What’s so special about this one?”
Illumisia chuckles and shakes her head. “With this new wording, as long as I consent to it, you can teleport me for one single Worth. Me. Relocation before this upgrade would cost you thousands of Worth just to move me a few meters. Now, as long as you have the coin in the location you desire, it will only cost you one Worth.”
“But I still need to physically touch you. Plus, spells don’t last forever in the coins I put them in–even less so if they’re skeletons.” I pull out a skeletal ghost quarter and flip it through my knuckles for emphasis. It snaps in two when it gets to my pinky. “I’m not arguing that it’s better than regular relocation–all the coinbound spells have been–but it doesn’t seem like it’s worth the title of ‘monstrous’.”
“Then we will simply have to agree to disagree.” Illumisia states matter-of-factly. “Now come, the both of you. We are garnering too much attention, and we have to prepare for the off chance that something horrible happens between now and when the system-born’s timer reaches zero.”
I raise an eyebrow as Illumisia gets off my shoulders and starts walking in a seemingly random direction. “What about the mask? I should probably go back and ask how I can contact the person who’ll make it usable.”
“There is no need. If they are skilled enough to make masks akin to the Horizonguard’s, they will not contact you for days. It will most likely be months to years until that slab of stone can be transformed into something more wieldy. Though pressing it to your face will still garner the same results as if it were already carved. Use it if you see the need.”
I shoot a glance over at Pearl, who just shrugs when her awareness feels my intent. “Don’t look at me–I’ve never worked with that stuff. I’ve fought people wearing them, sure, but the way we’re made–shellraisers, I mean–kind of messes with the magic in the masks. People wouldn’t know who we were, but they still knew we were shellraisers. And we could already do that just by shifting around our gooey bodies.”
“So my amazing second-life mask is an amazing hunk of solid rock for the foreseeable future.” I sigh and send it into my inventory.
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Then… I pause for a second. I’ve got four black-bordered slots. One for Pearl, and three for the shellraiser devices. But that means I can’t take the power core, and now the mask, back to Earth with me. Something tells me that the beacon and power core will be more important than almost anything else, so they need one slot. And the mask could keep me safe from those two people who pushed me towards the coin, and anyone else who’d want to kill me for coming back from this world.
Suddenly I’m down to one free slot. I pull open my Class Card as I follow Illumisia, completely ignoring my own advice to be stealthy, and study everything I’ve got. All the potions stand out as things I’m really going to miss when I go back to Earth. Then there’s the set of stamps I still haven’t used. And finally, the three shellraiser devices. Everything else is secondary.
I mull and despair over the choice while streets and streets pass by under my feet. Eventually I manage to cut the potions out of the deal, since I don’t know how long I’ll be back on Earth, and I can only take one of them anyway. Food shouldn’t be an issue, I’ll actually have a safe place to sleep, and there are hospitals. Plus, the monsters back there are handled by elite forces. Not me.
The set of… stamps? Seals? Whatever they are, they confuse the hell out of me. The system doesn’t give me much of any info when I try to see what they can do, aside from a very short blurb that tells me they are of no use alone. I pull them out and start to fiddle with the box, but the longer I play with them, the less I’m confident they’re useful. Gil sold them to me when I was clearance two, after all; how powerful can they be?
I flick open the latch with my thumb and open the box. Inside is a six-piece set of small stamps, a bunch of colourless wax, and something that looks like a little bowl with a platform underneath it. Tipping the bowl on the side reveals a small candle underneath, so it must be for warming the wax enough to stamp it. I take one stamp between my fingers and hold it up, but the thing’s just a perfect square of black rubber. Now I’m not an expert, but stamps usually have patterns on them that you… well… stamp with.
Chainwax Sealing Kit: First Stamp.
To activate: Pay 35 Worth.
Oh. I just had to open the box. That’s kind of embarrassing. But, I mean, thirty five Worth is basically nothing for me now. I’ve got a few uses of it, too, so there’s no worry about going below a thousand. I focus on the stamp and swipe over to my Worth, then press the thing against my screen. It absorbs thirty five Worth without my prompting it.
Rubber starts flying. Chunks of the stamp zip by my face like they were shot out of a cannon, plinking to the stone below and mercifully missing the pedestrians around us. It barely takes a second for something to emerge from the black, and I recognize it immediately; a nautilus shell surrounded by teeth. The same symbol that’s on my Class Card.
First Stamp Activated: Chain of Likeness.
Stamped items that have sufficient likeness will be grouped together, occupying only a single inventory slot.
Maximum grouped items: 4.
Stamping Requirements: 35 Worth and 2 grams of Chainwax.
…There’s a little memory somewhere in the back of my mind that tells me Gil wanted me to use this on the potions he sold me. That’s one option–sure–but another, much bigger part of me can’t help but hope these things will work on the shellraiser devices. They’re all made from exactly the same materials, after all, so… why not? Just because they have extremely different outputs, doesn’t mean the magical wax seals will see it that way.
I send the rest of the kit away and raise my right arm up, looking for a good spot to stamp the coin holster. I settle on the part of it that’s closest to my elbow, carefully press the stamp down, and try to will thirty five Worth into the stamp. It hisses with heat for a moment, and my hand is pushed ever so slightly away from the coin holster to make room for a small glob of perfectly clear wax. The stamp sinks down into it without any effort, tainting the wax with darkness the exact colour of Pearl’s body as it stamps my symbol onto it.
Qualities of item have been registered.
For as long as it remains stamped, only items with sufficient likeness may be stamped.
35 Worth and 2 grams of chainwax consumed.
Okay. That’s a good start. I pull out the matrix and knife, hold them both in one hand, and press the stamp down on the part of the knife’s blade that’s closest to the handle. The stamp hisses once again, but there’s a longer pause this time. I bite my cheek in anticipation, bracing myself for the system to inform me of my failure.
But no. The stamp recoils ever so slightly, more wax appears under it, and the stamp presses it into a seal. I lift it away, doubt blossoming into excitement, and quickly press the thing down onto the matrix. It’s a repeat of exactly what happened with the knife, and I send the both of them into my inventory before I check what the system had to say.
Sufficient likeness identified x2.
Items added to Chain of Likeness.
70 Worth and 4 grams of chainwax consumed.
That’s a hundred and forty Worth down the drain. But now I’ve got six things I can take back to Earth with me, and I can put any other shellraiser devices we make into the chain. All my self-inficted worries related to exactly this flow away on the breeze, and I send the stamp back into my inventory with a satisfied sigh. I’ve got a thousand and seventy two Worth left now–three short of buying the first tier upgrade of each stat point. And I’m pretty damn sure having two more shellraiser devices back on Earth is worth more than one Body.
“Shelby. People are staring.” Pearl whispers harshly.
“Yeah, I figured as much.” I chuckle and look around. Sure enough, everyone around us is staring at me. Most of them avert their eyes when I meet them, but more than a few keep staring. With various expressions on their faces ranging from confusion to… outright hatred. “We should probably get out of here. Illumisia?”
Illumisia rolls her eyes with a huff. “Do not assume I do not value my cover just because you do not value yours. I… system-born? Why are you glowing?”
Glowing? I frown and look down at my hands; no sign of glowing there. The stones under my feet aren’t reflecting anything, either. What the hell is Illumisia talking–
Stone and sky swap out for dull metal and an electronic hum. I blink rapidly and look around in a panic, bright colours and noise meeting me with the scent of burning exhaust carried by a weak breeze. My throat thickens as I feel something knock against my side, but I ignore it as I close my hand around emptiness where stat coins used to be. A brown-skinned woman with the physique of a fitness model in a crop-top hoodie sprints right into me, gives me a look of absolute horror, then scrambles to her feet and keeps running. Other than her, the streets are completely empty.
“Shelby?! What happened?!” Pearl asks in a panic. “Where’s Illumisia? What happened to Palastia? Did the system do this?”
I gulp and feel at my side. My purse hangs over my shoulder, filled with everything that didn’t come with me to the other world. The stink of industrial magic and technology spews through the air, carrying a loud roar that’s accentuated by a shrieking siren and countless bright lights along all the single and two-story buildings.
“Yeah, the system did this.” I confirm quietly as the source of the roar soars by overhead. A huge passenger plane transfigured into a dragon by the apocalypse’s magic. “We’re back on Earth a day ahead of schedule. And since it couldn’t kill me back there, seems like it’s trying its best to kill me right now.”
The mechanical dragon belts out another sky-shattering roar, then turns its bizarre apocalypse-twisted face directly at me. My awareness latches onto it like a parasite. The twisted roar of engines-turned-throat grows ever louder as it begins its descent.