Calculus and physics books lay scattered around the messy room of a college dorm. The room, originally made for two occupants, had a pile of assorted garbage littering one of the beds, indicating its disuse. The room's sole occupant wasn't usually in the habit of keeping such an unkempt living environment, but recent stresses had reduced ordinary troubles to be beneath his notice.
Ordinarily Devon would either be studying or reading on chess to maintain his number one position at the campus club, but today he stared at his computer screen browsing the net. He chewed on the end of a pen as his frustration mounted while the pages of useless articles flowed over the screen, one after another.
Eventually, his frustration reached a boiling point and he threw the chewed up pen onto the growing pile of trash on the unused bed. He threw his jacket on and shoved his Glock and holster into place above his groin. He tapped the inner pocket of his jacket to confirm the extra two mags and pocket knife within before stepping out the door.
While it was technically legal to own and carry the pistol in his area of the country, it was absolutely going against the law to carry it on campus. But given recent events, Devon just didn't care. He wagered at least half the student body didn't care, even the ones that had been vehemently anti-gun before.
He didn't even have to wander down the halls to find the person he was about to go looking for. Trey stood in the lounge, banging against a vending machine.
"Hey," Devon called out, "Wanna go grab a beer?"
Trey looked up at him and shrugged, "Sure, why not." He gave the vending machine one last kick before falling in beside Devon, muttering something about the machine eating his money.
Trey was considerably more built than Devon. He was a prominent player in the school's soccer team, but Devon couldn't help but wonder why he didn't do American football instead with how much he liked to tackle people. He had short-cut black hair and was attempting to grow something akin to a goatee, but Devon wasn't so sure it was working out.
Devon himself was pretty lean, with muscle in all the areas that mattered in his eyes. He'd done track in his high school days, but it was never more than a passing hobby to keep himself in shape. His blonde hair was longer than Trey's and would usually have been set in place with a simple spray product, but he'd let it grow wild in the past few days. Public image just wasn't something he cared about right now.
That reminds me, I need to shave as well, He thought, rubbing the rough hairs on his face.
They walked through the campus in the dim light of twilight, neither commenting on the lack of social activity. Even the fraternities were dead these days, a shocking contrast to the start of the semester.
Hard to believe it hasn't been that long since this shit started. Feels like it's been months since the reports started pouring in.
They made it to their normal pub and took their normal corner seat. Despite being busier than usual, an air of somber silence hung over the place. It seemed as though everybody wanted to drink and forget rather than actually do anything. Like they'd already given up on seeing the ones they'd known again. The possibility made him clench his fist in rage.
"So, nothing new?" Trey asked.
"Nothing useful. Though I'll tell you this, it doesn't seem like anywhere is safe. Reports are coming out now that there have been takings in military bases and even the White House."
"Fuckin' hell, man. That really means nowhere's safe."
"Yeah."
The takings. That's what people had started calling the mysterious disappearances that started occurring all over the world only a month ago. Without any bias for age, race, sex, or culture groups of people that were once there were now not. And nobody could give anything more than half-assed reasoning as to why. Why without any reason or rationale his sister had disappeared off the face of the earth.
A redheaded serving girl who looked no older than they were appeared beside their table, "Can I get you two anything?" The surprisingly attractive girl asked.
"A pint of whatever you've got that's German," Devon said, "I don't care if it's on tap or not."
"Uh, I think I'll just take a Kirin if you've got any left. Say, we haven't seen you here before. What's old man Phil doing hiring such pretty girls from campus?"
The girl gave him a smile, "Don't care much so long as it pays better than a minimum wage food chain. I'll be right back with those for you."
"Swing and a miss," Devon said with a wry smirk.
"Hey, you miss every shot you don't take, you know. You oughta try it some time, might even score."
"Not interested."
"Yeah well don't come crawling to me when you're in your thirties and lonely. I don't swing that way."
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
"Can it. You know, I find it ironic that you're the soccer player, yet I'm the one drinking European ales. What's up with you and Japanese brands?"
"Can't a man just have favorites?"
"When a man's favorites have a distinct trend it becomes impossible not to feel like there's some correlation."
"I dunno, Japan just makes good shit, okay? Good electronics, good games, good cars."
"You like Japanese cars?" Devon asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Oh fuck off. You drive a Toyota, don't you?"
"Drive? Yes. Enjoy driving? No."
"Whatever."
The conversation lapsed as their drinks arrived and they both took slow pulls from their glasses.
"So when do you think classes will resume?" Trey asked.
"The better question might be if they'll ever resume. Some people think the world is ending, you know."
"I'm not much of a fan of such a pessimistic outlook, and I doubt you'd be satisfied with such an answer either."
"Fair enough, I-" Devon's voice cut off as a feeling of wrongness permeated the room. He wasn't the only one who felt it either, as a cursory glance around the room showed everyone else also glancing around in confusion.
Before he could make a move he felt the world distort and his consciousness was yanked away.
----------------------------------------
Devon found himself in an empty space devoid of light or features. At first, he thought he'd woken up in the dark confines of a small room, but he realized he could see the hand he stretched out with perfect clarity.
How long was I out? And what the hell is this place?
Something appeared in front of his eyes before he could try moving around.
System instance initializing…
Connecting to central intelligence… Done.
Establishing subject baseline… Done.
Tethering…
Devon felt every molecule in his body seem to phase into something else. He screamed and collapsed, but the pain was gone even before he hit the floor of whatever this space was.
Done.
Welcome to the infinity beyond the limits of your world.
You have been chosen as a second stage initiate, congratulations!
So it's one of those scenarios, huh?
The floating text proceeded to explain the general situation to him. In short, he'd been yanked into a different universe and was straddled with a system that threw obnoxiously large text in front of his eyes.
At that thought the text actually became smaller, much to his surprise.
So you can read and respond to my thoughts.
Affirmative. If there is any uncertainty of the available functions, they can be displayed at any time.
Do it then.
Currently available dialogues are as follows.
[Status]
[Equipment]
[Quests]
Go down the list.
[Status]
Name: Devon Wells
Race: [E-Grade Human]
Level: 1
Class: [Feature locked until level 10]
Mana: 50/50
Talents: None.
Skills: None.
Titles: Initiate, Protected [30 days].
Strength: 7
Dexterity: 8
Vitality: 7
Endurance: 6
Arcane: 5
Talons: 0
[Equipment]
Clothing: [Standard Earth Clothes]
Accessories: None
Weapons: [Handgun], [Knife]
[WARNING. You have entered initiation with a weapon that registers as Class D. If you choose to keep this item you will receive penalties.]
[Quests]
1. Survive (Variant): Survive to the end of tutorial block #247. Reward: Unique title based on performance.
The dialogues presented were almost annoying reminiscent of games Devon had played in the past. There were some parts that didn't make immediate sense to him, though.
What kind of penalty?
If you do not choose to discard Class D weapon [Handgun] you will be denied starting equipment and receive a mark of Karmic Disdain. Additionally, exp gained from using [Handgun] will be completely negated.
Do you choose to discard [Handgun]?
Devon frowned at the prompt. For some reason, he could infer some sort of intent behind the words of everything the system said to him. Most of it had been somewhat jovial so far, despite delivering the news that his life had just been railroaded, but this message was different. It contained an intensity that he couldn't understand.
Define Karmic Disdain.
Repeating query. Do you choose to discard [Handgun]?
Not feeling so helpful now, huh? Can you tell me what's in the starting equipment at least?
Starting equipment is as follows.
Choice of F-Grade primitive weapon. Examples: Bow, Sword, Spear.
Leather armor.
5 [F-Grade Healing Pills].
So if Devon chose to discard his gun he'd get a shitty weapon instead, but possibly life saving defenses and healing items. Also, the system would be mad at him or something if he chose the gun.
Repeating query. Do you choose to discard [Handgun]?
No, I'll keep my Glock.
He felt an oppressive force bear down on him for a second, but it dissipated in an instant.
Devon didn't fully understand what Karmic Disdain was supposed to be, but he knew that the system considered his gun to be something that an initiate absolutely shouldn't have, and he could more or less assume why.
If the system's goal was to put people on an even starting ground then his gun provided him with an almost obscenely powerful starting advantage. Sure, he'd start with significantly less starting equipment, but he'd gain a weapon that would allow him to escape potential situations where that equipment wouldn't be enough.
Understood. Administering penalty… Done.
Error. Karmic balance below admissible threshold. You have lost the privilege of the System's aid.
That doesn't sound good.
Initiate no longer deserving of additional queries. Forcibly terminating quantum rift. Do not expect mercy, Disdained One.
Devon once again felt his consciousness ripped away, and the void was gone.