I found myself just about 20 minutes later already drenched in a suffocating layer of sweat, pouring off of me in layers, oddly grinning from ear to ear. It was fun, it hurt, but it was fun. I’d criticized myself enough for one day, so no comment on how I looked or smelled at the moment. At present, I was lamely slamming my fists into the punching bag, not exactly waiting for it to swing back but just jumping after it and punching it some more. If I wanted to figure out what these skills were and how to obtain them, it just felt correct to test my limits. I’d also tried to flick around the chain with little success except it landing painfully on my foot. Still, believe it or not, this flash forward was pretty damn purposeful.
[Through repetitive action you have learned the skill: Combat Endurance]
[Combat Endurance (Basic) - Proficiency: Novice (1):
While your opponents face exhaustion, you keep going and never stop fighting. Use a minimal amount less stamina when embroiled in combat.]
[Through repetitive action you have learned the skill: Instinctual Combat]
[Instinctual Combat (Crude) - Proficiency: Novice (1):
Untrained in combat by any master of the craft, you have found your own simple, hand to hand combat style purely through your body’s basic capabilities and instincts. Deal an insubstantial amount more damage to opponents you face while in combat and using this basic hand to hand fighting style in exchange for a slightly more painful recoil.]
Oh. Wow. Easier than I thought to get skills.
[Sufficient echoes have been reached. Class selection available. Would you like to select your class now or wait?
Notice: Delaying selection will not be harmful although options may be removed or lowered in quality by echoes created during this period. Any class chosen at this time will not lock you into a set path, although it will form a baseline to build off of. Do not take this lightly. ]
“YES! Oh yeah, yessir!” I squealed, entranced by the idea of having a class. What would I get? Would I be a berserker? A martial artist maybe? Something interesting to do with stamina manipulation perhaps? This was based on the skills I had ‘learned’ and not exactly what I would like above all else, although it wouldn’t be bad to have one of those.
[Class selection has begun. Available classes:
Improvised Warrior: You need not worry about what weapon you use, just that it will ensure demise upon those you wish to bring it upon. Slightly increased aptitude to learning how to use weapons you have never used before or weapons not traditionally considered effective in exchange for a slightly decreased aptitude to learning Gain 1 free stat point per level in this class.
Brawler: You will put everything into anything in pursuit of a victory, even if that means exhausting yourself quickly just to land a powerful strike. Slightly increased damage dealt to opponents in exchange for a greatly increased stamina drain. Gain 1 stat point to strength per level in this class.
Pugilist: A war isn’t a single battle, but the same as a marathon to a sprint. You take things slowly and wear down your opponent, dragging on the fight as long as possible and using your stamina to your advantage to drag out a victory. Minimally decreased stamina loss in exchange for slightly decreased damage output. Gain 1 stat point to stamina per level in this class.]
So. I want to change. I want to improve myself. I want to stop procrastinating. So, I chose before I could be distraught with indecision.
“Pugilist. Yeah, I wanna be a pugilist. Wait no, fuck, brawler. But the warrior thing could be cool too-”
[Pugilist class has been chosen. Pugilist has reached level 1 - you have gained 1 point to stamina.]
----------------------------------------
“Why did you bring me here? I can understand that you want to use the teleportation points as a filtering process but this is hardly a proper tutorial. If I want to find my path, shouldn’t I be having experiences in the real world to gain it? I just…don’t get your antics.” I asked the system, hanging my head backwards to look up, receiving no answer besides:
[No.]
Accepting that I wouldn’t get a real one any time soon, I started to scribble something down–Maybe I’d gain another skill from it, and I really did enjoy the feeling of gaining a skill. There wasn’t much at all that I felt from it physically, but I felt the same as when I got a notification from an app.
At the collision of worlds,
reality and fantasy,
what is there for me to do?
You put me here in emptiness,
and force me to look through my mind,
and unsure what I’ll find,
I search and wander its expanses,
only for you to tell me that it
isn’t good enough.
System, you are a strange one,
what do you expect me to think?
What intricate desires lie behind your cold, elusive screen?
It amuses you, doesn’t it,
to watch me wrestle myself,
to listen to my thoughts turn against me,
to hear my name twisted into bitter echoes,
mocking tones thrown back from my own shadow.
Yes, it’s a peculiar shift of pace,
this game we play, this fight within.
Yet it’s far from the journey I had hoped,
the path of purpose I had imagined.
You stole me from my world too soon,
dragged me far before I was ready—
and this, this will need to be set right.
There are threads left frayed,
unfinished stories, regrets without closure,
all demanding their reckoning.
There are debts to be paid, blood to spill.
Isn’t that what you said was fine?
You told me murder was simply instinct,
that the thrill of vengeance would give my life clarity,
and nowhere, not once, did you tell me no.
Even when you called my thoughts twisted,
even then, you left the gate open.
So bring me back—
this is my only wish, my singular hope,
the one path that could ease my restless heart.
The only purpose I’ve unearthed, the sole anchor of thought:
to end him, end them, end us all if that’s what it takes.
Let me, just let me.
Draw me back to that circle,
where I’ll crush Devin’s skull beneath my hands,
splintering bones like forgotten promises.
I’ll weave Jordan into threads,
each fiber torn, each shred unwound.
I’ll press Greg into the soil, until he lies six feet under,
part of the earth, erased and silenced.
Then I’ll hunt down that shadow, the girl,
the one who held me back—if she was even real.
I’ll erase her, too,
as if the ink of memory could be scrubbed clean.
And at last, I’ll turn inward,
a final act, the seal on our fates together,
binding us to this chosen end.
Whether it be today, or another dawn—
please, let it conclude.
End this relentless, unyielding sorrow.
It took me a while to write that down, to get the words and phrasing to a point I was happy with, especially since I was using pen and had to cross out or scrap a page without the possibility of erasing, even though nobody would likely see it; the whole message I wrote was more a passive aggressive attack than anything else. I was rewarded with a skill for my efforts, a skill I wasn’t really sure I wanted but wasn’t opposed to. I sighed yet another time, an audible complaint. The smoke still wafted, the chill still prickled, this was all still just as meaningless. Time passed slowly yet imperceptibly.
[Congratulations on your first class. It creates a base for everything you will do in the future. This stage does not end here however. You must additionally gain a profession, and it is recommended that you also obtain a sub-class and sub-profession which are specializations or a method to diversify.]
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
The delayed congratulations was something I wondered about but…appreciated.
[I do also hope that your mental state recovers quickly in preparation for stages to come, which will prove to be far more difficult than these which you breezed through with ease.]
My mental state…I hadn’t hallucinated while in this area as of yet, I didn’t think. No encounters with talking objects, or my parents coming in for another visit.
“Why even talk to me like this? It’s not worth it; I’m not worth it…I’ve hardly made use of this gift you gave me, this chance to grow and ability to do so…I’ve just done nothing and I’m probably in the lowest denominator of ability now.” No response. Again.
Other than that…The gaining of skills was…intoxifying. Incredibly addictive. It filled my heart with something other than cholesterol or blank space. Pure, substantial dopamine. It almost came close to a complete distraction from all my woes and the fact that this wasn’t a normal situation I was in all the time. And…it gave a sense of accomplishment. I felt like I could take a full break without being overwhelmed by a massive sense of guilt that I could be doing something better. I definitely felt a lot of guilt right now, for Jose, for Crystal, for doing nothing now to avenge them. I was always pining for vengeance that I’d never get. I lived to spite them and for the possibility that I’d succeed in the distant future. Was that worth it? Was I worth it? Was I really my own person or just the result of them?
Right about now, I was running in circles to try and train one of the skills I had ‘learned’ earlier. The skills I did have hardly showed any noticeable effect compared to what I’d been doing earlier, maybe at a proficiency of 1 the improvements were nonexistent, that it was just the same as normal.
It was hardly easy to get more skills than those I had just gotten; but not particularly difficult either, usually taking about 20 minutes of strenuously doing that activity if pushing myself, with breaks it took much longer, an hour at least of work. If I wasn’t pushing myself
----------------------------------------
[Through repetitive action you have learned the skill: Sprint]
[Through repetitive action you have learned the skill: Penmanship]
[Through repetitive action you have learned the skill: Poeticism]
----------------------------------------
“What’s the point of skills, really? Can you at least tell me that?”
Its response came with a clinical precision, like reciting facts from an instruction manual. [Skills exist to monitor and enhance your progress, letting you complete necessary tasks with greater efficiency. While simpler skills may not show an obvious increase in raw ability, they do become easier to perform. You’ll be able to sustain these skills for longer durations, with noticeable improvements as your proficiency rises. With more complex skills, often learned through time or external sources, you’ll feel the difference much sooner. When a skill reaches a proficiency of 10, you’ll have an opportunity to elevate it to a higher rank. However, there's a risk: failure will revert you to a proficiency level of 9. When a skill achieves its highest proficiency rank, it will transform, becoming a superior form, strengthened by the residual energy—echoes—that accumulate during its development.]
The explanation didn’t tell me much I couldn’t have guessed, but it lingered in my mind, a bit like having the rules to an old game spelled out in finer detail. I kept running, eager to push my level up to a second proficiency, wondering if I’d feel any noticeable difference, or if it’d just be another incremental step forward.
[Character Sheet:
Name: Alaric Ashford
Race: Human
Class: Pugilist
Sub-class: None
Profession: None
Sub-profession: None
Tier: Z - Lower
Health: 9/10
Stamina: 2/15
Title: None
Stats:
Intelligence: 3
Strength: 2
Wisdom: 2
Vitality: 2
Stamina: 3
Durability: 3
Dexterity: 4
Luck: 1
Balance: 1
Momentum: 0
Perception: 3
Willpower: 1
Regeneration: 2
Confidence: 1
Free Points: 0
Multipliers: None
Note: Stats available are dependant on your Race, Class, and Profession
Titles: None
Note: Only one title may be equipped at a time
Skills:
Combat Endurance (Basic) - Proficiency: Novice (1)
Instinctual Combat (Crude) - Proficiency: Novice (1)
Sprint (Crude) - Proficiency: Novice (1)
Poeticism (Basic) - Proficiency: Novice (1)
Penmanship (Crude) - Proficiency: Novice (1)
Equipment: None
Notice: Your soul is currently being held in the balance by a contract between life and death. Your growth is dependent on the contractor and is capped to not reach beyond that of the contractor.]
Distractions had their appeal, a familiar comfort. A well-timed video game, this not exactly being well-timed, could be a good enough escape from studying… not that it affected my grades as it did for most. Occasionally, I’d drift off into idle fantasies of being inside a game’s world, picturing the freedom and thrill of living its narrative. This, though—this blank, surreal space around me—was nothing like those daydreams despite its gamelike aspects and similarities. Not really what I’d imagined, yet there was something oddly satisfying about it still, yet infuriating at the same time. Like overindulging in food or drowning out worries in a haze of alcohol, blocking out reality for a while. Or even the careless thrill of a reckless night out—without the gritty aftermath, maybe. Or binging narcotics–scratch that last one.
“Tell me about…the multiverse, system entity. I want to get a better understanding of it; Consider it your compensation for taking Crystal from me.”
Its response in the notification in front of me was cold and detached.
[Ah, yes, Crystal. She was an amusing soul, a fun plaything for some of the gods to observe the death of, quite a popular choice compared to others on your planet. I owe you nothing, especially as you weren’t even as close as you are acting you were, but I’ll indulge your curiosity. What would you like to know?]
A tightening grip twisted in my gut. Crystal—the idea of her as some cosmic puppet stung, I very likely owed her my life, though I forced myself to keep focused. Possibly we weren’t close, but…I was here for answers, and maybe, if I pushed hard enough, I’d get something useful out. Besides, training in this white void beat just sitting here. Working here, in the emptiness, a blank white stretching endlessly, was entertaining in a way but it was tinged with an odd hollowness. I missed the layered noise of multiple screens playing videos, the buzz of a game controller, the chaos of frying pans clattering as I multitasked. That constant stream of stimulation now felt like an anchor I’d lost.
[You constantly play the victim. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. Your situation may not be ideal but you must learn somehow.]
My eyes narrowed and hands clasped together. “Just… enlighten me. You know things, right?”
A faint hum echoed before its response, like static clearing from a line. [Amusing—pretending you’re unaware. You know well that I know everything, just as I know you’re aware of my knowledge.]
Its tone felt neither condescending nor encouraging, merely a matter-of-fact reminder. My goal was of course to stroke its ego, because you know someone is great when they need that from some random guy you apparently hate, when you apparently have easy access to the lives and deaths of literally everything. If I had that much, I would do much-No, who am I kidding, I’d do the same thing. Was the system just some person then? It certainly personified them.
[The multiverse is in essence just countless, infinite expanses. Every conceivable reality and form can find existence somewhere. Your own universe, vast as it seems, is only a single spark in a greater existence—a thousand times larger, layered with those yet to be connected.]
My mind struggled with the immensity of what it described, picturing, if only vaguely, an endless network of worlds, threads twisting and branching into infinity, each line bearing the weight of countless lives and destinies. The vastness of it, almost incomprehensible, ached in the back of my mind. It was an unsettling reminder of how insignificant one life could be, as if I were a minor character adrift in an open-world game that extended far beyond what I’d ever explore. Very much like that, in fact, the game just showing me the ropes before throwing me back into the thick of it.
You know, for most of my life I’d yearned to escape from the standard cycle of existence in a capitalistic society and now that I was theoretically out of it, still assuming that this all was real and that I wasn’t insane, as well as that if it was real that order wouldn’t restore itself, I felt little joy. Don’t meet your heroes and don’t fulfill your dreams. My mood swings were noticeable even to me, one moment I was the happiest I’d ever been and the other I was down in the dumps. I hated it.
[Stage 2: Find Your Path - Time remaining: 60:44:32]
As I spoke, I kept my pace steady, feeling a notable difference on this surface compared to the punishing grind of concrete. Each stride came a bit easier, smoother even, and I could run for just a bit longer now. The improvement wasn’t massive, just a few extra seconds of sustained movement, but for someone like me—lacking any real endurance to start with—it was noticeable. I suspected that maybe “Combat Endurance” was lending a slight boost too, although it was hard to tell for sure.
I had to admit, running here did feel surprisingly invigorating, even with the void’s sterile air and endless flatness tempering the thrill. Without the rush of wind or the subtle resistance of a natural trail, some of the excitement was blunted, as though a key part of the experience was missing.
Breaking my own rule about prying too much, I tossed out a question, almost daring it to answer. “So what’s Stage 3 all about, then? Is this all there is, or does it go deeper?”
[The nature of further stages remains restricted knowledge until you have reached them.] It replied, curt and unyielding as ever.
“Then why did I get a class with just two skills, but when I picked up a couple more specific to a profession, there was no option to choose a profession?”
[Professions require a bit more dedication to obtain.]
I pressed on, hoping for some guidance. “So how do I pick up a subclass or sub-profession, then?”
[You obtain them in the same manner as your class. Accumulate echoes through actions, such as but not limited to skill creation, and you may find yourself worthy.]
Its answers were straightforward, yet they revealed little about the path ahead. I wondered how much more running, fighting, or training I’d need to build up the kind of echoes it deemed “sufficient.” How much more I would need just to get to that illustrious and elusive level 2 proficiency. Just how much more of this I could take before I’d go crazy. Just how much more strength I’d need to vanquish my foes. Just how deluded I was.
I didn’t like training, but this hardly felt like it. True, my side ached and I commonly became out of breath–standard with most exercise–but I didn’t feel like I was getting stronger by doing it somehow, I felt capped, generally limited. In addition, it still did feel like I was just playing with a character in a video game rather than actually using my body. My blisters from earlier had completely vanished so I didn’t struggle with that, and I’d asked the system for some sneakers for more ease with running. They were sleek and black, made of plastic and simplistic rubber fitted together, not the most comfortable but they strangely fit near perfectly.
Everything still felt so…unnatural. I believed yet also didn’t, and ran to get out my frustrations.
“So…what purpose is there of existence in this multiversal reality? If I could just go to another universe where everything is just easier to achieve, why did I struggle to get to here in life?”
[Your purpose is to find your purpose and then achieve it. At present, you are unable to hold a purpose before you facilitate a mental purge, which is a rare necessity. All universes may be different but all follow the standard format I provide; none are inherently easier to live within or grow within. If you were to ask the general purpose of your species, it is primarily to survive and fight your oppressors as well as the rot, as yours is not a particularly popular one to keep alive.]
“I understand the oppressors part, we certainly oppressed our own on Earth, but what do you mean by the rot?”
No answer, yet again. I continued running with no success; I was starting to think that maybe this area just wasn’t the challenge I needed to get level 2 proficiency, if that’s how I gained proficiency levels in the first place. The buzz of skill acquisition had nearly worn off entirely. It all wasn’t exactly challenging.
“Alright…you took me there, to the apartment…how about you take me somewhere that I can learn these skills faster in, then.”
[More specificity is required.]
“Let me fight a monster…there are monsters, right? Those vines were, I think. Sorry, I just assum-”
[Of course there are monsters. What type of terrain would you prefer?]
“Doesn’t matter.” I replied, unknowing that I had just made a very poor choice.