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Rising World
A Chosen New Life

A Chosen New Life

Tom looked over the other options floating in hovering windows around him. Choices for people to be. He'd seen a wizard, a peasant and an elf princess. What else did System offer?

> The Moonlit Messenger

> Aves Female

> Her cheerful delivery run ended when someone coveted a bit of platinum she carried.

This one was a bird, silver-feathered, something like an owl with hands on its wings. "Can that species fly?"

System offered no answer. Tom moved on, feeling like he was viewing dating profiles. It seemed he was going to be intimately familiar with one of these lives, if he called System's bluff.

> The Devoted Delver

> Kobold Male

> A miner of good repute, whose service to the Dragons led him down the wrong tunnel.

This picture showed a blue-scaled lizardman with soot on his helmet and a pick in his clawed hands. Tom's mind raced. Kobolds, dragons, bird people... He looked the profiles over again. Each one had a note listing a "Feat", with explanatory text that was blurred out for now. The princess for instance had "Climbing", the wizard "Enchanting", and the messenger, "Leap and Slowfall" without anything about flight. So it wasn't a flying race, which was a letdown. If he were going to turn into some other kind of creature, wings would be almost an instant sell.

He found that he was excited now, willing to play along. If there was any truth to System's words, he was being offered something amazing. What else could he pick?

> The Handy Chandler

> Vulin Male

> Invented a more efficient type of stove at a young age. Discovered carbon monoxide.

Tom winced at the kid's implied fate. This one looked younger than most if he could judge a humanoid fox, wearing a leather apron and gloves over red-and-white fur. In the background of this portrait, he saw a workshop of wrenches and iron and an orange blur in one corner. A fox-tail, separate from the one peeking out from behind the Chandler himself.

Tom said, "So all of these people probably had families, before their accidents."

System nodded. "Life will go on for them. Will you step into the shoes of any of these people?"

They were all apparently gone... and so was he, if his memory of the meteor was true. "What about my family? My friends?"

"I'm sorry. You were hit by a meteor."

"A rock that big must have blown a hole in the city! Did you send it?"

"No."

Tom's voice rose. "If you have the power to send me to some other world and I'm alive enough to be having this conversation --"

System held up his bare hand. "Alive enough, is the key term. We are outside of time and space, and if I were to release my hold on you, you wouldn't go back home. The only way out is forward."

Tom stammered objections. He wanted to get a message to his family, damn it! Or, or to let them know he was out there someplace, or at least to tell his friends other worlds really existed. Tom lost track of what he was saying, railing at System, making demands. But after a while his throat was sore, and his host hadn't seemed to react at all.

"That's it, then," Tom said. "Your game or nothing?"

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The masked figure only nodded and said, "I'm sorry, but yes. It's more than many get."

Tom rubbed his eyes and nodded too. "All right. Or... it's not all right, but I'll do what I can. So. Profiles of people. Show them again. Are there any others?"

System was immediately ready to return to business. "One more at this time," it said, and brought its floating windows back into view. There was one Tom had missed.

> The Hybrid Herbalist

> Centaur Male

> Studied the plant life of dungeon biomes, and failed to notice some of the animal life.

Tom tried to focus. A centaur would be swift and strong, but maybe inconvenient. He knew something of what each of these species was, but not how they fit together as a culture, a world.

System said, "These seven achieved the notice of the gods. They have the potential for greatness. Whose role will you step into?"

Tom looked around at the greenery. Was any part of it real? On closer inspection, the trees were no species he recognized, and their leaves were tinged in golden shades along with green yet bloomed with springtime flowers smelling of lilac. "I don't know enough to choose."

System said, "I can offer you a useful gift, or answer three questions. Which will it be?"

"The questions, easy. I don't know what I'm getting into." Tom studied System, looking for clues. But that masked face betrayed nothing, and the creature stood still. Tom said, "Is there something important about the races' status? I'm looking for things like whether one is all enslaved, or has to eat babies to live, or is immortal."

"The Woven have the potential to live very long, though no one knows for certain yet."

"The who?" He clapped one hand over his mouth. "That's not my second question."

System's posture became more relaxed, as it idly played with one of the vines. "They're not available to you anyway. No hero candidates at the moment, alas. I can tell you that most Humans are peasants of various sorts, and some members of every race. None of your choices has any innately horrible drawback from your perspective, and their natural lifespans are similar except for the Elves, whose technically long spans are less desirable than you might wish."

Tom wanted to ask Why, and Who and a hundred other things. But he had only two questions left. He thought of an old puzzle about guards who might be liars. The trick to that one was to get as much information as possible at once. He finally asked, "What would happen if the Aves messenger, the centaur and the fox met in one of these 'dungeons'? Assuming they could speak the same language."

System let out a chuckle that echoed from behind the mask. "I can tell you'll be an entertaining one. I imagine the fox would pester both of them for a ride, the bird would want news and recipes from both, and the herbalist would try to harvest some crystals while he has those two for backup."

There were several hints in there. He wanted to ask more about the people, but he also needed to know about the specific rules. He mused, "So there are 'feats'. What can... Okay. You want me to be interesting. So what's a good, reasonably moral way to start growing useful powers unusually well, in terms of the classes or levels or whatever your rules use?"

"In general? Choosing a geas, using your skills, carefully choosing and advancing a class. If you've settled on a persona, I might have more to add."

Tom looked over the floating portraits again. They were all alien to one extent or another, even the humans. This was a whole other world. But one picture in particular caught his eye again. "The fox inventor."

"Vulin, is the local term. Is that your choice?"

"Has he got a good family?"

"They are commoners."

"I mean, are they people who care about him?"

"Certainly. He's not alone in that; the other candidates mostly have friends and loved ones as well."

Tom nodded. But of the portraits, this one was glancing sidelong at someone, a faint grin on his muzzle. All of these candidates had met terrible ends and all he could do was replace one of them, not truly save them. But maybe they'd welcome him anyway, and... and it would be a good strategic move. Yeah. He looked back at the faceless otherworldly being who was the only person he'd met so far from this other world. "I want this one. You had specific advice?"

System reached out its ungloved hand toward Tom, and the white mist flowed from there to surround Tom, making him float in a confusing starry void. System's voice echoed around him. "Good luck, and may you find happiness in your new life. As for strategy, know this: you have a historic opportunity very soon if you choose to grasp it. It won't work quite like you're used to, but many things can be yours: wealth, popularity, power, maybe something else entirely. Go forward -- but what direction is that?"

"I was expecting specifics!" Tom said, but the void swallowed his words. Everything faded to white.

"Go forth and advance," System said from far away.