“Start with what’s already in you,” Sam said.
“Mmk. So… my spirit?”
Sam nearly rolled her eyes. So very nearly, but at the last moment just barely avoided the second-most overused body language cue in the genre I know and love (after smirk; I think we can all agree there’s far too much smirking going on).
“It’ll become spirit once you’ve cycled it enough to refine it. Right now it’s just Qi.”
Now it was my turn to frown. “I don’t have any Raw Cosmic Qi in me. Just spirit.” I read my SP pool stat aloud.
SP: 200/200
“That means spirit points, which is the system’s way of quantifying the spirit in my system. The only Raw Cosmic Qi on me is in the Storm Globe. I think.” I shrugged. “I mean, I’ve been making an awful lot of good guesses so far, but bear in mind this is all new to me, too, insomuch as I’ve never been the self-insert protagonist before.”
“You’re telling me that all the Cosmic Qi currently in your body is already refined?”
“I think so.”
“And your channels are full?”
“Looks that way? I’m guessing 200 is whatever quanta represents the full capacity of my channels, at least for now.”
Her face took on a blank look. “Maybe I’m the one who doesn’t understand. This is newer to me than to you, it seems. All I know is theory, poor man’s Tai Chi that bled over into mainstream commercial yoga, you know?”
“Did you actually teach a yoga class?”
“I did. A few. Actually started a school; was the one time my parents seemed…” she trailed off, but I connected the dots.
“Proud of you?” I offered.
She nodded.
“Aren’t you worried about your students?”
She gave a mirthless chuckle. “Oh, I don’t have any. Not anymore. Fuckers filed a complaint with the Better Business Bureau, which got law enforcement’s interest, and eventually got me shut down. Fucking crock of shit,” she growled.
“Ah… I see,” I said, unsure of how to backtrack from this particularly raw personal issue.
“Well, whatever. Fuck ‘em, I hope they’re all burning. Which, coincidentally, they probably are.” Her eyes took on a distant, serious look, then she shook herself out of it. “Anyway, you’re my student now, I guess. But I’m beginning to wonder if I should be yours.”
“Uh oh!” I grinned—another overused cue, but less egregious—and layed on my very best James Earl Jones. “Now I have become the Master.”
“Whatever. Ok, so what happens if you try to cycle your spirit?”
“I… do not know. Let’s find out.”
I closed my eyes and focused on my breath as she’d instructed. It was easy. Far easier than I expected. I think I assumed there would be some lengthy training montage where I try and try and fail and fail to grasp the feeling of it, but learn some deep character-building personal lesson, before finally unlocking something in a crucial moment in battle. Instead, I immediately felt my spirit begin to cycle.
It was like opening a spigot to run a hose. From a brand new house with brand new plumbing and a brand new spigot. Energy coursed through my limbs as the more ephemeral spirit energy spun around inside of me, and for a moment I felt refreshed, alert, and euphorically happy.
For a moment.
“Ow!! Shit!”
Pain wracked my body and my limbs stiffened, which was especially painful given my precarious stuck-in-table position.
You are attempting to cultivate refined spirit.
Warning! This exceeds your current cultivation stage.
Continued attempts to cultivate refined spirit ahead of gem-level cultivation physiques may result in damage to your cultivation body.
No further progress recommended until you upgrade your cultivation physique.
“Well how the fuck do I do that?” I groaned.
“What?” Sam asked. “What’s wrong?”
I gave her a rundown.
“Try the Storm Globe,” she suggested.
“You mean, like, swap out what’s in me for more of the Raw shit?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Why not? I’d say it couldn’t hurt, but obviously that’s not true; your face looks like someone tried to squeeze you into a suitcase.”
“Now that’s an image. Alright, shit. Here goes everything.”
You have activated skill: Storm Globe!
You have 14,001 Raw Cosmic Qi stored in Storm Globe vessel. Cultivate? Y/N
My eyebrows went up a little at the fact it had continued, even at rest within the safe space, to gather Qi, and had tripped over the 14,000 mark. This thing was an absolute game-breaker… if I could figure out how to use it.
I selected Y for yes. Immediately the pain returned. I growled through it and stopped my attempt, deactivating Storm Globe.
You have attempted to cultivate Raw Cosmic Qi.
Warning! Your cultivation channels are full. Release refined spirit from your channels before adding Raw Cosmic Qi.
Further attempts to ingest additional Raw Cosmic Qi without releasing refined spirit may result in damage to your cultivation body.
“We can’t have that,” I muttered. I panned over my stat screen again, mulling things over. So far my biggest cheats had come from my Qi Magician trait and associated skills. I read the list of idiomatic titles again, stopping on Ballers Be Balling. Maybe it was just the spherical nature that evoked Storm Globe, maybe it was because it indicated to me this skill also might involve the conjuration of physical objects apart from my body, but I decided to give this one a whirl.
You have activated skill: Ballers Be Balling!
A pair of bright yellow wiffle balls appeared on the ground in front of me.
That’s it. That’s all happened.
“Well that’s… anticlimactic.”
I pursed my lips in thought. Then, as if I should have experienced a brain freeze, only I didn’t, inspiration struck. I deactivated Ballers Be Balling and then snapped my fingers, activating the prior skill.
You have activated skill: Storm Globe!
I hadn’t tried to activate more than two skills at once yet, but I thought, what the heck. Storm Globe had indicated it could impact other skills. With part of my focus intent on keeping Storm Globe running, I activated Ballers Be Balling.
You cannot activate three skills at once until you reach Qi Magician: Tier 2.
The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.
Do you wish to cancel Storm Globe to activate Ballers Be Balling? Y/N
Do you wish to suborn Ballers Be Balling to Storm Globe as a subskill? Y/N
Warning: Qi skills suborned to others as subskills will be consumed by their parent skill, altering their use and effect permanently.
“It’s not as if they were going to do me any good otherwise,” I said. Then I selected Y for yes. The two wiffle balls reappeared, but this time they levitated and began to orbit my body. A smile slowly spread across my face as I read the new message.
“You almost done playing with your balls?” Sam asked.
“Not even close.”
You have suborned Ballers Be Balling to Storm Globe as a subskill.
Ballers Be Balling, subskill:
Conjure a pair of Qi-enhanced wiffle balls for the storing of energy. Balls can be handled and manipulated at will.
Would you like to store energy in your balls? Y/N
“Watch this,” I said, grinning like the cat who got the cream. I closed my eyes, focused on my spirit again, and sent it flooding into the levitated balls. The balls hummed with energy as they steadily filled, until finally my spirit stat bottomed out and both the Storm Globe and wiffle balls disappeared. I slumped forward with a groan.
“What happened?”
“Hang on,” I grunted. I felt like a wrung-out dishrag, my bodily energy completely sapped. I was very tempted to fall back asleep. But I knew that if I could just tap into some of that massive Qi reserve, I’d get back to cultivating.
You have attempted to activate skill: Storm Globe.
You have insufficient spirit in your SP pool to activate this skill.
“Dammit, fucking fuck-a-duck,” I growled. “I’m tapped.”
Sam blinked. “How do you figure? I thought your channels and your magic ball were both full.”
“I just dumped all my spirit into those wiffle balls. Which is amazing, but I need some apparently to conjure them.”
“So draw some out of the other ball.”
“Same problem.” I leaned back again and was held in place by my stuck hand. Frustrated, I wiggled my arm to the point of pain, flailing against the table in futility.
“So we wait.” Sam sighed. “Not a very productive day.”
“Tell me about it; I slept most of it away. It’s almost as if someone reading along complained that things needed to slow down. I can just picture them now; some armchair reader going by Trucky or Trumpet or Trixie or something, and they’re all, ‘oh wow, cool idea, but slow down, it’s going too fast!’ Can’t say I’d disagree though, to be honest. At least I’ve learned what a couple more of those skills do.”
We gradually lapsed into silence. Sam got up after a while to pace, running her hands through her hair. It was magnificently frizzy. I pulled up my stat page and watched the pools like a hawk, until finally, after about twenty minutes, my SP moved up to 1/200.
“Yes!” I whisper-shouted.
You have attempted to activate skill: Storm Globe.
You have insufficient spirit in your SP pool to activate this skill.
“Goddammit!”
An hour passed.
Sam wasn’t looking too good. She’d been increasingly rubbing her face and the backs of her hands. I watched uneasily, feeling a bit rough myself. I’d had another couple bouts of the shakes while we waited.
“What’s wrong with you?” she asked, glancing my way and then steeling her eyes ahead again as she paced.
“You’re going to have to be a fair bit more specific,” I said.
“You look like you’re having withdrawals. You know. From drugs.”
“You’re one to talk.”
She shrugged. “I’m easy. It’s the drinking. But I can’t… I can’t do that right now. I have people out there. I have to help them first.”
“Then you’ll drink yourself into the grave.”
She looked at me squarely, tilting her chin up. “Maybe.”
I shook my head and looked down. “Well. I can’t judge you. I’m fucked up enough as it is.”
“That’s obvious.”
I looked out the front windows. The sun was dipping down into the cityscape, brilliant reflective orange and pink hues washing the street. It would really have been a beautiful evening for a stroll downtown if it wasn’t for the carnage and general mayhem. Every so often we had seen figures creep past, usually goblettes, or the occasional Sand Witch. Once we’d spotted a person and had briefly discussed trying to let them in, but they seemed to be moving past with clear intent, and we decided it wasn’t worth the risk to let in a stranger. Not while our sole goal was supposed to be resting and getting stronger so we could go out in a little bit and ostensibly save non-strangers.
SP: 4/200
I said a silent prayer, though I wasn’t sure to whom, and tried again.
You have attempted to activate skill: Storm Globe.
You have insufficient spirit in your SP pool to activate this skill.
“Any luck?” Bryan asked. He’d woken up a few minutes before and we’d caught him up on the situation. Then he’d made his rounds, checking corners or whatever it was he did. He came back from the kitchen, little kitchen doors swinging behind him.
“Nada,” I said. “Man. I still can’t believe we spent all day in a restaurant and didn’t eat anything from it.”
“No power,” Sam reminded me as if I’d forgotten.
“Sure, ok. But guys, think about it. If I could get my spirit up enough to access all the Raw Cosmic Qi, I bet I could have cooked up whatever they have in the back with magic powers. Just think. A Burrqito. A Qimichanga. The fusion practically writes itself.”
Sam and Bryan gave each other a long-suffering look, which I felt was pretty damn unfair. Even if Bryan had suffered my sense of humor a number of times before, Sam was new to my charms.
Sam stood up and walked back toward the kitchen.
“Get you anything?” Bryan called. He sounded very much like he wanted to make sure she didn’t sneak off and go on a bender.
“I’m good, thanks. The chips might be cold and stale but they’re still edible.” A minute later she did indeed return with two red plastic baskets of cold, stale tortilla chips in grease-stained paper liners.
We ate in silence.
“Too bad the salsa’s shit,” I said.
Sam huffed a laugh. The dam broke a little as Bryan joined in, chuckling, and I grinned.
“Modern miracle of the grid,” he said. “Blessing and a curse. Power goes out for thirty-six hours and bam, iceboxes everywhere are nothing more than plastic boxes with dirty gaskets.”
“Fuck, man. Remember the derecho?” I asked.
“Oh, yeah,” Sam nodded. “Power was out for over a week.”
“Right?” I laughed. “Not a big deal at first; I just went to bed. But when you wake up and it’s still out… the fuck do you do?”
Sam grinned, tortilla chip in hand. “We left town.”
“No shit.” My eyebrows rose. “That’s genius.”
“Yep. Cleared out whatever we thought was worth saving and threw it in a cooler, then drive six hours to our parents’ in Missouri.”
“Ohhhh, I see,” I said between hard crunches, “you’re from southern southern Iowa.”
“Fuck you,” she said. “I had a carton of chocolate ice cream in the freezer. And I had a travel mug.” She shrugged. “I might have driven all the way to Missouri chugging it like a milkshake.”
“Hold that thought,” Bryan said. He stood up and walked back to the kitchen.
“Your sisters live with you?” I asked Sam.
“They did then, yeah.” She took on a wistful expression, then her face fell. “Before.”
I decided not to prod.
“Oh hell yes,” Bryan said, swinging the kitchen doors open with his ass as he backed back into the dining space. “Drink up, yanks.”
He held a large Styrofoam takeout cup in each hand, another pressed between his arm and chest. He set one down in front of me and put a straw in the top.
Sam grinned again. “Yes.” She took a sip. “Yeah, fuck yes!”
Bryan pointed at my cup. “Chocolate ice cream, as ordered. Or, well. More like extra thick chocolate milk with a heavy dose of sugar, because, well. C’mon. Power’s been out all day.”
For once, I didn’t mind that fact one bit. I sipped contentedly.
“Hey,” Bryan said after a bit. “Look at that.”
I glanced out the window where he’d indicated.
A number of Sand Witches had come into view, along with what looked like slightly more decayed zombies, or Shayathar Vessels, I guess, walking with them and… herding them? Yep. Herding them. Like shepherds with sheep. Or Montessori teachers with four-year-olds.
“Uh…” I choked a bit on my chocolate drink and coughed, clearing my throat. “We’re safe in here, though, right, Bri-man?”
“Don’t call me that.”
“But we’re safe, right?” Sam asked.
“Theoretically. Yes. I think. Look, I’ve experienced these nodes before—hell, I’ve relied on them—but usually they’ve been higher level, or combined with a few others. Sitting under the umbrella of just one is a little bit, uh…”
“Don’t say it,” I said.
“It’s new territory for me.”
I grimaced. “Had to fucking say it.”
Sam frowned at Bryan. “What do you mean you’ve experienced nodes before? The fuck, sir? You are a human, right?”
I tried to raise a placating hand but failed to do so. For about the sixtieth time in as many minutes I regretted that I hadn’t had the balls to just deactivate Edward Butterknife Hands as soon as I’d woken up. But I had reasoned that since the knives were actually my fingers, all retracting them would result in would be having my actual fingers embedded in the table, which sounded even worse. Then I’d emptied out all my spirit, and now I didn’t even have the option to try. Bryan didn’t have to remind me that as soon as it was time to leave, he was going to have to break them off for me again. But I really, really hoped my SP pool had trickled back up by then, or else I was going to be running around in pain and sans digits.
“Of course I am,” Bryan replied.
“Then what do you mean by—”
Our conversation was cut short by a pressure wave rippling through the air.
Right through our safe zone.
“Fuck,” Bryan softly swore.
The figure of a man had come down from the sky, landing like a meteor in the middle of the street and leaving a crater that ripped up the pavement like it was play-sand.
Right in front of our safe zone.
The man wore a long, black jacket. His skin was a pallid greenish pale, his hair slicked back after an unattractively high hairline. He looked like zombie Neo. The man turned his gaze in our direction and glared.
Right into our safe zone.
“He… can’t… see us, right?” Sam asked Bryan, all animosity gone.
As if on cue, the man’s eyes locked onto us. His face contorted into a predatory smile.
“Level 30,” Bryan whispered. “It said it provided protection and would stay hidden from beings beneath level 30. Which means this is…”
“A fucking monster,” I finished. I set my Styrofoam cup down on the table. “My milkshake brought all the boys to the yard.”
I tugged at my arm again. “God fucking dammit!” I pulled up my stat screen and shot my shot.
You have activated skill: Storm Globe!
“Oh! Ah!” I laughed, relieved and surprised. “Hahaha!”
Congratulations combatant! You have discovered a source of cultivatable Cosmic Qi. Would you like to cultivate? Y/N
“Yes! YES, fucking yes, goddamn!”
Blue-shot white light flooded my body, streaming into me from the plasma lightning globe like… well, like Qi rushing into a cultivator. I immediately ordered my body to cycle it.
It did.
“Cycle it!” Sam yelled. “Quick!”
I opened my mouth to tell her I already had, shocked at the immediate results, but we all stilled as the cloaked man began to stride in our direction. A wave of oppression preceded him like a physical force pushing down on us, and I grimaced.
Fucking aura shit.
He paused a moment at the window. Then he drew back his left hand, formed it into a fist, and punched.
Right into our safe zone.
The glass shattered just as the invisible energy barrier that had been surrounding us winked out with a pop, and my ears went bad like they do on a plane when you forget to work your jaw.
The man strode forward, stepping over shards of glass.
Right into our safe zone.
“Fucking bloody run!” Bryan yelled to Sam. She was holding up her hands as if she could do something to stop a level 30 zombie thing. It was a fucking joke. None of us could do a damn thing.
I yanked desperately on my arm. Like a kid in that Saw movie.
Like a rabbit in a snare.
My body convulsed in a sudden fit, and I snapped out of it, coughing and twitching. “Fuck,” I growled. I poured everything I had into freeing my arm.
And then all of the sudden I was free.
I wasn’t locked into the table anymore. I wasn’t anywhere near the table. Only I was. I was over it, and under it, behind it, before it, all the prepositions. And I was in the air, and on the ground. Tens of varied perspectives clashed in my mind’s eye and I thought I would vomit, but I had no stomach. Spirit had suffused my body and then my body had vanished, leaving my companions and our assailant in shock.
I was sand in the air.