THE SYSTEM AND THE SACRIFICE
EVERGLADES, FLORIDA. NIGHT.
When Luke woke, there was a light coming from some sort of globe at the top of the tent. He carefully pulled himself up, holding back cries. Fortunately, his face felt a lot better. Not nearly good, but the agony was gone.
He couldn’t hold it anymore so he went to the disgusting toilet-thing and used his shirt to shield himself from the view of others. He needn’t have bothered as they all turned away.
As he was standing up, there was a sound like ripping cloth. A side of the tent fell away. Not the side Mr. Marks had indicated earlier. Three Orcs stood there. One had a white and red bandage around his hand. “Still alive, you brogbat?!” He shouted at Luke. “You broke my knuckles!”
He grabbed Luke with his uninjured hand and threw him to the ground at the other's feet. The impact jarred his face and he nearly passed out again. He had never hurt so much in his life.
Surprisingly gently, one of the Orcs picked him up and attached rings around his wrists. A slim wire connected them. Space handcuffs.
The other Orc attached similar rings to his ankles and attached a cable to the first. Luke was shackled and taken over to a large metal disk on the ground. The Orc pulled his wire down and Luke sank to his knees. The wire attached to a clip on the disk. It did not look like it was meant to open again. The rest of the bus passengers were brought over and attached to the disk. Soon, they knelt in a circle facing inwards.
They waited, while the Orcs grumbled to themselves. Luke felt hungry and thirsty. He wanted to go home.
Then, the grumbling stopped and another figure stepped out near the Orcs. It was some sort of red muppet, walking creakily towards them. Angry, red muppet. It moved into the center of the disk and stood there for a minute looking like it was trying to center itself. Then, it pointed at the biggest orc, who nodded. The orc walked over to a large contraption and started moving levers and knobs on it. Something like a wind moved through the clearing, glinting, but not moving the leaves. A faint blue window appeared in Luke's vision.
Greetings
/////////////////Dungeon World////////////////////
//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
The screen frizzed out and became unreadable, but ever-present.
Luke knew immediately what this was. A MMO. An isekai. A huge game with space Orcs and muppet wizards come to life. An alien invasion wrapped in a fantasy novel. These freaks had come to kidnap them for their evil purposes. It felt inevitable. Of course it had been coming. Why had it taken so long?
The blue box wavered out for a moment, and then back in more clearly than before. The announcement had changed.
Please choose your class from //////
Class chosen! You are now a Junior Technician! (B)
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He didn’t even get to choose? It just... picked for me, he thought. I’m an NPC.
Before the box solidified, Mr. Marks gave a shout of great effort. Above his head appeared a green text box.
Greg Marks Minstral Status:*One big party*
In Luke’s vision, a quick bar on the side showed “Partied”, and vanished.
The muppet in the middle started making wheezing grunts that went on for a long time. Then he threw up his hands and shouted in a strange language.
The System reacted, and the blue box changed again.
Class altered! You are now a Victim! (special)
The muppet continued to grunt, as if exercising.
The Orc began to move equipment closer and soon had a coffin sized box next to each passenger. People started to cry. Luke felt numb. When the Orcs began to put people in the boxes, the screams began. Luke noted that the wire clips did open again. Huh.
The female Orc took him to a box. Luke got in and laid down. She put some kind of breathing mask on him and closed the lid. The sounds of screaming stopped.
I’m a victim, he thought. I can’t talk to girls. People don’t like me. I can’t choose what I want to do. There’s nothing I can do. I get a chance to live in a video game and I can’t even choose to live. My whole life came and went and all I am is a victim?
A small flame ignited in his mind. I can’t choose?, he thought. Why can’t I? Why don’t I get to? I don’t get to live? Why not?
With each thought the small flame got larger. It was unfamiliar, and uncomfortable, but somehow, very welcome. As it grew, Luke thought he liked it more and more.
I want to live, he thought. I want to live!
He kicked the lid. It hurt, but was nothing compared to his face. He kicked again.
Outside the box, the Grobbin and the Orc attached a cable to each box. A gooey liquid started filling the coffins. Each of the victims inside began to struggle with even more panic.
“Hurry,” called Narell. “I can feel the mana slip away!”
Each crew member grabbed a handle with a connection to the disk Narell stood on. The Captain called, “Ready!” and handed Narell a handle too.
Narell nodded and brought his hands together with the handle between. Magitech lines started at their hands and covered them in glowing tattoo wire patterns. They all stiffened at once as muscles and tendons locked them into paralyzed statues, their bodies made into a parody of strange angles and stances.
In the boxes, an electric shock went through the victims, and they went still. The masks had a small amount of air, keeping them from drowning while the ritual played out.
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BETRAYAL, AND A RISING.
EVERGLADES, FLORIDA. MIDNIGHT.
Even knowing what was to come, the Galactics were horrified. They watched status screens playing past almost too fast to see. But each one showed XP and Attribute loss. Swiftly, a set of golden-red announcements began.
//////////Loss of levels////////////
//////////Basic class lost//////////
//////////////////////////////////////////
Through the agony, Narell felt a spike of joy and accomplishment. I did it. I did it!
After several minutes, a gauge on the panel showed the mana dropping to zero. Slowly, the lines on the Galactics’ bodies dimmed and they fell in heaps.
The Captain was the first to rise, slowly testing his new body. He felt even weaker than he had before. He crawled to his crew, placing a hand on each, then moving to the others.
As Brevtok stood, Narell brought himself to his hands and knees. The Grobbin coughed and spit a mix of blood and mucus. As he looked up, Brevtok grabbed him by his clothes and yanked him off the ground. Narell looked exhaustedly into the Orc’s enraged face and felt spittle shower him.
“They’re dead!” Brevtok screamed. “Dead! What have you done!?”
“They
“Why?”
“You perfect
Brevtok’s head dropped and he lowered Narell to the ground. “No. No. This was supposed to be redemption. I could... help.”
Narell sneered up at him with a look of contempt. His eyes widened as Brevtok slowly unholstered his pistol. He leveled it towards Narell. Narell opened his mouth to speak when a loud rumbling snapped both their heads to the side. A beam of light suddenly speared them. Their non-System enhanced reflexes did not allow them to do anything but gape at the bus barreling at them. At the wheel, Sara floored the accelerator with a look of pure hate.