There were three stages of the Genesis that Grey knew of. He had found writings of them scattered throughout various caves and abandoned temples in the Tutorial, and their words remained ingrained in his skull. As he waited for the government agents to approach him, he brought them to the forefront of his mind.
First will come the Dungeons. Their horrors will spill out into the world, and their Gates will allow Chi to usher in the world and its core. Their Keys must be collected to either destroy or to keep.
When the Chi has flooded in sufficiently, Terraforming will begin and alike worlds will combine. This will result in a merger of worlds considered most similar and the destruction of technology not supported by Chi. With the arrival of new life, the four Towers will open. It is important to note that Chi does not follow natural laws, often even contradicting them.
When the core of the world begins producing its own Chi, the final stage will begin. It will seek a lynchpin, an anchor to tie itself to. The being who becomes this anchor will become a living god, an entity that stands at eye level with the rest of the Chiverse’s major powers.
Grey would become the Ultimate Player. He would become the anchor. This world would be his, and for once, it would have a place for him that he wanted.
Time passed, and an invisible pressure seeped into the air. To many, it would feel choking and dangerous. To Grey, it felt like home. Like normalcy.
Chi had arrived. He drew in the first easy breath he’d taken since returning to Earth. The Chi was still thinner than it had been in the Tutorial, but he felt that his Evolutions would no longer function under penalties.
He had read a number of things in those caves, and at the moment, one in specific stood out. The first in an iteration to gather a Diamond Key will unlock the Evolution of the Archons. Twelve Golds, they say, to make a single Diamond.
The Evolution of the Archons. It was another piece of the puzzle- one that fit nicely in his Ultimate Plan. He knew not what the others had experienced in their Trials, but he knew the Desert had been his alone, a hell full of prophecy and fable meant to forge him into the Player. And it had.
Feeling more in control than before, he stored his new weapons and withdrew his spear. Then he hopped off of the roof of his home. A few moments later, he was knocking on the passenger side window of the agents’ car. They were a man and a woman, both dressed in jeans and casual clothes. They looked unremarkable, but Grey spotted several weapons between them including two guns.
The man rolled down the window. “Can we help you, sir?”
“No. You may want to contact your superiors. The end is starting.”
“What sir-“
“You have been watching me for several hours. I assume you want something from me.” Grey searched their eyes. “Please come back when you have something to offer. Specifically, I want the locations of all the Dungeons in the immediate area and unrestricted access to them. I also want my family contacted and brought to safety, preferably under my own protection.”
“Sir, I-”
“You may leave a notice at my door when you have the offer. Goodbye.” Grey walked back to his house and hopped onto his roof once more, Chi Breathing filling his limbs.
From there, he looked out over the suburb he lived in. Past the orange glow of windows and the countless manicured lawns, he could see a slight blue twinkle. He had found one. A Dungeon.
Soon enough they would be everywhere, and the government would be forced to call upon those who had entered the Tutorial to fight off the monsters that spilled forth. Eventually, they would even start trying to shut the Dungeons themselves.
This could not happen. That way meant a return to normal, a return to the mundane. Instead, he would conquer the Dungeons and take their Keys, gathering Chi for himself and preventing the authorities from shutting their Gates forever. There was never a problem that rational thought couldn’t solve, after all.
He would make an enemy of the world when they realized, but the part of Grey that cared about such things had died long ago, buried beneath the sands of the Desert. The Ultimate Player was more than a goal, more than a dream. It was happiness and all the things that entailed. It was Grey, all of what he wanted or ever would want to be.
Not a single person obstructed him on his way to the Dungeon. Perhaps even the Mundanes realized something amiss. He knew they would when slavering beasts ripped apart their houses, at any rate, but those who survived had little need to worry. His plans had a place for them, too. They need not die pointless deaths. Not this soon.
When he reached the Dungeon, the blue spark had become a dark hole shaped like a doorway in the middle of the street. Several people had gathered around it, many of whom were recording or talking frantically amongst themselves. Grey pushed through them.
“Return to your homes,” he said. “Beasts will come through this Gate.”
He stepped into the bottomless hole and emerged in a towering cavern. Torches that burned deep blue hung from the polished stone walls, and from the shadows at the back of the chamber, a stone face peered out, the statue’s face locked in a permanent smile. Behind it came nearly a dozen other limbering stone statues.
He sucked in a breath, running Chi through his body to increase the power of his physique. His spear went into his Inventory. A club of bone came out instead. He twirled it lightly.
The funny thing about Chi Breathing was that it had little to do with breathing at all. In fact, it was more song than breath. It filled his mind, his ears, his body with a powerful thrum that sounded like nothing more than the war song of a forgotten people, their voices echoing through the faint beyond to find their avatar in him.
Battle plan started.
The statues are slow, he thought. I will start with the first one and force the others to chase, darting between them and taking them out as need be. Speed will be my advantage here. In his head, his plan blossomed, showing him dodging the golems and forcing them to stand in each others’ way.
Thrum. He moved, bringing his club down onto a statue’s head once and again, cracks spiderwebbing through its skull. Thrum. He was past the golem and battering the knee of a second. It fell. His boot came up and stomped down, the shock traveling up his leg. Thrum. He was in their midst now, smashing and stomping and swinging. He smashed a knee. Smashed a chest. Smashed a frozen smile into tiny bits of gravel, feeling the adrenaline keep the pain of the shock away from his hands.
The pitch changed, and his deep baritone became a lilting tenor, the power in his limbs growing. Minor Telekinesis nudged a stone hand over his shoulder, and he spun, bashed the grasping hand away, clobbered the statue behind it into a fine cloud of dust, and ducked out of the others’ reach, running so they grouped up behind him in a nice line.
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It almost seemed similar to the zombie games he had played before. He killed, let them group up into a nice train, and then moved back into them, letting them trip up on each other's movements.
Battle plan complete.
His chest pumped like a smith’s bellows. After the Desert, the statues were hardly a challenge. Still this was only a minor dungeon, and he had expected no less from the first room. When he was done, fine gray dust coated him. His club went back into his Inventory. His spear came out once more.
Above all, reach was key. It was why humans had made guns, after all. The best way to kill was the one that put you the farthest away from danger, and perhaps if the Tutorial had not sealed him away in a desert, he might have picked up the bow instead. He was glad for the spear, nevertheless. He was the Player, after all, and he chased enjoyment above everything. Weapons would become useless without Evolutions to support them and maybe not even then, but he wanted to be up front nonetheless, the song of Chi Breathing blasting through his skull. It was simply the way of the Desert, the only way he knew.
That was far from the Dungeon’s last room, however. In the next, he faced statues even bigger than the last, and the one that came after that held strange gargoyle-like monsters that moved nimbly for their size. Despite this, Grey smashed his way through them, taking only minor bruises and injuries. The monsters finally stopped at a doorway lit by faintly blue torches.
He followed the flickering azure light into a downward spiraling staircase, the melody in his head still pulsing. Wind blew faintly across his face, and he turned his head. There was an opening, deeper into the cave. Strange.
He held the bottom of his spear out in front of him, tapping its butt against the steps ahead and the walls around it. Click. Click. Click. Something about the place seemed off. He sniffed the air, filtering through the scents of dirt and earth. Nothing unusual.
Then his spear sunk into a brick step with a hiss, and a greenish mist sprayed from the floor. He sprinted through it with his eyes shut and his mouth closed, stopping only when the ground levelled out below him.
He was in a dark tunnel, a small piece of light at the end. Traps, then. If the first virtue of the Player was preparedness, the second was adaptability. He pulled a stone from his Inventory, sending it skipping down the center of the hallway.
Flames shot out at twenty feet. Spears jutted from the walls at thirty. Then came small darts, more poisonous mists, and finally a false floor that opened into a pit of spikes.
He released Chi Breathing when the hints of a headache crept at his temples. All Evolutions drained the body, much like any other biological function, and to get through this hall, he would have to draw on his Evolutions heavily. While Single Player was always active, Minor Telekinesis and Chi Breathing required conscious effort on his behalf to use.
Starting survival plan...
Grey moved forward, sliding beneath the gout of flame. He summoned Chi Breathing. The first spear he ducked under, the second he rolled beneath, and the third he sidestepped. When the darts flew at his way, Minor Telekinesis swatted the darts aimed at his vitals out of the way. His armor blocked the rest. A scrap of cloth went over his mouth for the mists. The final pit he crossed with a jump boosted by Chi Breathing.
Grey imagined the scene in his head, building a plan piece by piece until it fit together nicely. After sipping from a skin pulled from the body of a ghoul, he stood and put his spear in his Inventory. In high school, he had ran on the track team. This was simply that but with more dire physical consequences. In a way.
Chi Breathing stood his hair up on end, and when the world seemed to slow, he burst forth. The gout of flame sparked at the edge of his vision. He slid. Then came the spears. He ducked, rolled, and sidestepped, moving when he heard the clicks they made when they moved. Eight darts flew at his face from the side. He focused, lifting a gauntleted forearm and nudging the more problematic darts with his mind. None passed through the chitin plate of his armor.
He stopped to tie the piece of cloth around his mouth, judging the distance the gas would cover in his mind. Five strides. Five strides, and he could open his eyes. Grey ran forward, the telltale hiss telling him the gas was pouring forth.
One, two, three, four… He stumbled and rolled, his foot catching on the lip of a stone tile. When he popped back up, his foot touched a piece of floor that fell out beneath him, and he threw himself back, opening his eyes. Too far.
Tricky, tricky. He looked at walls on either side of the pit and made a decision. Boom. The drumbeat of Chi Breathing pounded in his skull, and he took a few steps back, starting to sprint when he heard the hiss of the gas once more. When his feet reached the edge of the pit, he jumped, kicked off of the left wall, and landed on the other side, catching himself before he stumbled and received a dozen spikes to the back.
Survival plan complete.
He retrieved his spear and tested its blade with a finger. It was a long thing, nearly his own height, and its bone shaft ended in a wickedly barbed tip. He checked the daggers on his belt, including the short sword sheathed on the back of his belt that he’d found in an abandoned temple. All in place.
He stepped out of the tunnel and into a sweeping chamber, blinking at the harsh light that flooded through the hole in the ceiling above. Something had burned glowing blue runes into the floor below, and in front of Grey, a giant of a man crouched over a piece of stone, a hammer and chisel in his hands. Braided white hair draped down his back, his pale skin looking as though it had never tasted the light of the sun. He wore a dirtied robe that might have once been white. When Grey stepped forward, he looked up, his milky eyes disturbingly large.
“Who’s there? Is that you, Puppet? Have the Archons finally retrieved us?” His lip trembled, and his voice turned harsh. “You are not Puppet.”
He stood, dropping his tools and picking up a large hammer from the ground beside him. He left behind a half-chiseled statue, one that looked similar to the ones he had destroyed above. Grey made a mental note. Monsters could speak his language.
Starting battle plan…
Incomplete, not enough data.
Grey frowned. Coming up with a plan was proving difficult when he knew next to nothing about the giant’s Evolutions. Aside from being big, of course. He pulled a bone dagger from a sheath at his waist and tossed it at the giant.
A hand slapped it to the side. His frown deepened, and he crept forward, his spear held out to one side. High speed, presumably immense strength, long reach… Even the chamber wasn’t a limiting factor, its size more than enough to contain their fight. Body Evolutions were a pain.
He charged forward, sidestepping a hammer blow that shook the ground beneath him. His spear stabbed into the pale arm closest to him, and he wrenched it free with a sickening pop. The hammer came down at his head, his body, and then his head again. He dodged them all, but a fourth blow caught him off guard, clipping his shoulder and tossing him to the ground.
He rolled, picked up his spear, thrust it into a leg, and scrambled to his feet, his attack eliciting a roar of pain. The hammer came down again. Head, body, head, shoulder. He dodged all four, slipping under the last to retrieve his spear.
Pain roared through his shoulder, but his mind had long detached. The pieces were now in place. It was only time to run the code.
Battle plan started.
The only attack worth committing to was the one that eliminated any hope of retaliation.
Grey’s spear punched through the air, and he was close behind it, a shortsword in one hand and a curved dagger in the other. The singing in his head had crescendoed, reaching a fever pitch that seemed to blot out the rest of the world. There was only the music.
The giant swept the spear aside, its tip cutting a red line in his forearm. Then his hammer came down. Head, body, head, shoulder. Grey stepped to the music, dodging, sidestepping, and ducking beneath the blows until he had reached the giant's legs. His dagger punched into a thigh, ripped a bloody canyon in it, and came down again. When the giant’s hammer thundered down, he was elsewhere.
He chopped into the other leg, felling the roaring giant to its knees like a fallen oak. Chopped again and mangled an arm. The hammer clattered uselessly to the floor. Chopped a great gash in his chest and pulled it free with a wet rip. The other hand fell limp. His dagger turned a cheek into a hanging piece of flesh before finding a home in the spot between his neck and shoulder. The roar had become a pitiful whimper, and Grey silenced it with another chop that split the giant’s skull, its eyes crossing to look at the blade buried between them. It dropped to the ground with a shudder or two and the sound a balloon made when the air was squeezed from it.
The Tutorial had taught him many things, preparedness and adaptability among them. Perhaps the most valuable lesson, however, had been on thoroughness. There were no jobs left half-done in the desert, not if a man was to live.
After a moment, a triangle-shaped coin of bronze descended from the opening in the ceiling above, a faint glow surrounding it. The silhouette of the giant he had slain was emblazoned across its front. It was the Key. He grabbed it.
Dungeon defeated! Evolution Points Gained!
Bronze. His lip curled. This would not be efficient. No, Grey needed to challenge himself.