Theirs was a party of engineers, mechanics, cooks and Damon. They had access to all kinds of weaponry and tools, but so what? There was no way to even figure out where they were heading. Stuck on a floating island going too fast to jump off of safely, they had turned to the System for help. Apparently she was offering none, not until they earned it.
Classes, Classes. Hm. We’re all getting Class descriptions and apparently access to some stats, but still no real info on what to do. So, gotta assume we’re meant to level up…
Damon was indeed a lifelong martial artist, one with a social life and now an adult with a proper education to boot, meaning he had been quite busy growing up—but he was no Noob. In fact he had participated in several races for the highest level on the server, in the opening weeks of a couple of different MMORPGs. Of course, if the goal was to be the server’s First, then he'd failed. Miserably. Damon was just a teenager at the time, and no true follower of the legendary He Who Has No Life. Still, you learned a lot from the experience. Not least about the significant benefits that could be leveraged by those at the very top of the heap in terms of not just levels, but gear and knowledge. You learned all about that, even from just watching those benefits being enjoyed from afar. Such were the perks of being the early bird in a world of levels.
But then, how to get there from here? It usually started with a properly well-planned leveling route to face appropriate challenges, one that needed to be followed with great discipline for several waking days; all leading to making the right connections among other people of different Classes doing similar sacrifices on the altar of No Life. Then, you took on the dungeons. Once you’d proved yourself in there, in a world of levels, opportunities would keep falling into your lap once you were rich, powerful and famous along with it. Hah, that’s right. Not so different from the real world.
If Damon had to come up with a guess for why he felt no different despite having gained himself a Class, he’d say the issue was most likely to be a lack of levels. Right, I’m still at zero. Growth awarded per level. Gah, just give us a freebie you cheapskate!
Gaining a Class—or is Aspirant Class different?—that might be one thing, but if this supposed stats empowerment was awarded per level, then that was surely the best sign of where to start. So, how do we level?
Of course there was the obvious answer, killing stuff. If there were other ways then Damon was getting the feeling that the System didn’t want to help them too much in figuring it out, not for right now. She had asked them to do nothing but self-reflect while the ‘adjustments’ finished. What the hell kind of thing is that to ask of the people you’ve just put directly into a crisis?
It was a frustrating situation, feeling like you were only receiving a semblance of help. If I recall correctly, she did mention how the UI was locked, I guess that’s why I can’t see my starting stats when I request them? But what the hell is the point of that then!?
They all made up improvised beds but mostly failed to go to sleep that night. They picked their Aspirant Classes, with some people getting offered different options from Damon, but all with similar basic descriptions; and no one gaining any obvious benefit except for some rather crude iron- and wood based gear that mostly made them feel like cosplayers. Sure, easy to see how this might be semi-useful to other people stuck in this situation; but they happened to be one of the few groups with access to way better weapons already. Still, not a single one of them was in a hurry to go out and try to kill rats, or whatever the hell, just to either level up or die trying—not on the mere off chance that they might learn to level some Class and grow slightly stronger. They just didn’t know enough to even be able to call that sort of mission a calculated risk. Would’ve been just swell if there was a Tutorial or something?
“Tutorial...?”
…
Yeah. That didn’t work.
Once Damon was so far gone as to try being summoned into a 'Tutorial' out loud, on the off chance the word was a trigger for another System scroll, and with the only result… drum roll… of feeling foolish. Damon started to consider if the stress was perhaps driving him crazy, or if maybe the lack of sleep. Alright, maybe we just need to be patient, start preparing for when the island stops at some point, perhaps try trapping the building, or something. Stay productive.
Two of the fellas from the cafeteria who were avid gamers picked Augur and proceeded to go waving their basic wooden stick wands about, with disappointing nonresults. Even with free stats supposedly available to their Class each level, they were given no additional instructions regarding in what way this distribution happened. A lot of speculation ensued, but Damon felt like only one thing that made sense in terms of figuring out where to go from here, a place to focus their solutions was dead simple—earn some levels. We just need to be patient for a safe opportunity to find out more tangible information. A safe kill, of some kind, if that’s what it takes.
As mentioned, not one of them could sleep that night. No one except for Ken, who went to sleep muttering about having been through worse, which they all figured must be impossible, but it still made them feel better. He was somehow snoring like a log within ten minutes, so maybe whatever he'd been through was not too far off, even if their situation was unprecedented.
Instead of sleeping, Damon, Tom and Sam—who surprised them all when he showed back up, having never made it out of the parking lot—all went to watch the sun rise over a new world together. Damon glanced at his new boss and gave the two some space, then habitually hit another one of his vapes, only to be reminded of the dead batteries again. Damn it, a few puffs too many would’ve had me sleeping like a baby by now.
It was not just buildings and specific infrastructure like the tramline that had been Shuffled off by the System, they saw islands floating all over the landscape, some carrying intact bridges and tunnels in concrete along with the foundations they’d been grounded in, while some islands looked entirely made up of nothing but huge masses of metal, likely collected from scrapping vehicles. Even large swathes of forests were getting moved.
It was a sight to truly inspire awe in the power of the System. Must be straight up telekinesis, or else some other invisible force?
Damon was joined by Sarah, Abi and a few others at first, and then Tyler came along once another half an hour passed them by.
“How about that, for a first day of work? Welcome to the building!”
Damon didn’t even have it in him to smile right now, but he patted Tyler on the shoulder, appreciating the effort.
Tyler knew their lead researcher Tom Green since before all this, but hadn’t yet met the ladies, and so introduced himself as their silent landlord, rotely sharing the surprising story of how he’d gotten a lucky inheritance and spent a few years trading properties. He’d been selling like a daytrader for just a few years out of high school, until his portfolio was big enough to sell it all off and live a comfortable life taking on a newly available property, where he could earn more than anyone really needed for daily life, so long as he kept busy with some side business which turned into the idea of the garage. The operation had ended up being enough to keep himself busy those rare times he felt that urge—all in the form of the downstairs car collection that had just been turned into so much junk. At least they had tools aplenty as a result. Over the next few years Tyler had slowly bought damn near every new piece of gear and toolbox on the market, to the point where he could now work on just about any older car in existence, and he’d already begun an impressive personal collection by buying cheap wrecks with healthy bones and and fixing up their exteriors, to start with.
All somehow accomplished in the mere dozen years since he’d been a pimply teenager gaming every day on Damon’s couch.
Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.
Also, Tyler talked too much, when nobody else would. "Yeah, alright. Thanks for the introduction Tyler. And how's the Apocalypse treating ya? You look pale."
"Hah. Oh yeah. The Apocalypse, and in the form of a Feng Shui bureaucrat who wants to redecorate, who woulda bet on that one? Maybe the Mayans. I had my money on Max Max, fused with some Gran Turismo organized by our new, slimy alien overlords. That might have been wishful thinking. I wasn’t too far off though, ey?"
They all shared a companionable silence. Damon feeling reinvigorated in the early morning sun, one that was surprisingly warming. He closed his eyes and tried to forget about how this wasn’t a normal morning. We must have been racing southwards? I guess this moving island is our new home for now.
It worked for about fifteen minutes.
Of course that was when the landscape abruptly stopped, as the island suddenly decided to stand still for about an hour. Before it lurched again, going off in a new, entirely different direction. Or maybe they were still, and everything else was actually what was moving? Damon felt like he was in the early makings of a fever dream, his vision beginning to slowly swim as he leaned into the sensation. He was too tired to distinguish any landmarks by which to navigate besides the hallucinogenic sun at this point. They might have been heading to the Sahara, for all anyone knew. Is this gonna go on all week?
Ken slept through it all, the ride was that smooth. But Damon still couldn’t relax one bit. Instead he went down to The Armory, grabbed one of the Beralumin axes and proceeded to work out his frustrations on the titanium plinth for a time. The exertion confirmed that gaining a Class hadn't made him any stronger.
What a useless System.
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Their island fortress of piped soil, brick and mortar… and parking lot-moats… it all moved in a cohesive mass for many miles that day, all while they only spotted a few other islands during those first few hours of morning, which kept getting extended as their fortress fled from the roaming noon sun.
At a certain point someone noted how a couple of the other islands had clearly seen violence, and later on, ones with bodies strewn all over started showing up. They watched carefully for survivors, but found that the islands appeared mostly abandoned at this late stage. Amongst other things, they encountered an island with some dozen of black bears scavenging, seemingly treating it all like a day fishing down by the river. Every animal they came across looked to be taking the crazy changes in stride.
They concluded that theirs must be one of the few islands lucky enough to have remained mostly peaceful thus far.
Ken woke up and came walking with his hands behind his back to take one long, hard look. “We need to be better prepared.”
So they finally mustered the initiative to form groups for scavenging and stockpiling useful materials.
A few people remained on the roof to keep an eye out, but it was not until late that afternoon when they spotted true danger. They’d come upon an island of desperate people appearing to be stuck inside of a school, where an unnaturally large pack of nearly a hundred large, gray wolves had forced their way inside. That was the first time they realized the true gravity of their situation. Their island never moved close enough for them to try helping out—or to be in danger themselves—but it was only a matter of time.
They immediately got to work securing the entrances to the lower floors, thankfully managing it rather easily due to their abundance of tools, random materials and available engineers.
But it only got worse from there; even if they remained fortunately distant and aloof as a result of their preparations. Over the course of the evening they saw people being hunted by gangs of tigers, alligators and even hippos at a certain point. Always in unnaturally large packs, making the scenes they’d been seeing even more terrifying.
Some of the predators even came onto their island, but with all of them in hiding up on the roof and with no ways of getting into the building, soon enough they were left alone.
At one point they heard what sounded like gunfire in the distance, yet it remained too far off to see the source.
The traumatic images shuffling past on parade put them all in shock. Anyone harboring earlier thoughts of trying to level their Classes found those considerations swiftly gone with the wind, instead they tried every solution they could think of to keep them all safe for as long as possible.
Damon walked through their building that night, feeling useless. I'm actually one of the few people experienced– and in good enough shape to defend us, and supposedly I can get even stronger quite fast now, and here I sit.
It was such a strange situation they found themselves in. The whole thing remained thoroughly confusing, and things had gotten no clearer despite more than a day to figure things out. Could they not have at least given us some Classes with guns? What even is this technology reset all about, does the System just object to convenience on sheer principle?
She had taken or ruined all their electronics, disabled the car engines somehow, even ripped some larger vehicles apart for scrap; yet the System was supposedly still working out what materials to remove and what to let them keep.
Stuff kept disappearing.
At some point during the day their glass coffee pot was removed without anyone noticing, since it was not in use with the electronics having been cut. So, having already taken out the electricity, now the System suddenly got the idea into her head to take away their glass pots. Because it was tempered? No. That makes no sense, it would have taken the windows off the cars in the garage too, like it did with the buildings.
Sigh.
What the actual shit is going on.
Damon walked the halls, rubbing his head in frustrated weariness, eventually getting to their storage room. He saw Ken working in there, and thought back to how the man had been trying so hard to keep them all calm and steady throughout this entire ordeal. He was likely a large part of the reason why none of them had tried to run off, and gotten caught up in the crazy mix out there, back when the Shuffle first started. Yet he was quite old, no matter how strong. He could have probably used some rest and assurance himself; the chance to destress, while relying on someone else for a change.
Damon went through the storage shelves to look for any useful materials, and landed on checking out the available Beralumin ingots. He was glad to see that the System had let them keep the advanced alloy thus far, despite everything else it robbed them of. Damon touched the red, shiny metal and marveled over how deep the color was. Richer than blood.
That's when he was struck with an idea… A vague one, but when he looked at it closer… an insane one. Damon chuckled to himself, at his own pomposity. Then he suddenly sobered as he realized how he’d failed to spot a flaw in the actual idea itself. Yeah, you need someone insane. But with that healing boon active, it will probably actually work?
It was still insane.
While he thought it all through, Damon decided to go ahead and see how this healing thing worked. I bet it feels strange, but is it actually painful?
He’d been too hopped up on adrenaline when it healed his bruises, so he didn't know how it felt for sure, but his budding plan definitely needed him to find out. If the healing hurts as bad as the injury then my plan is impossible, the pain is most likely to drive me mad with agony, or even kill me outright, before we'd get far enough to see any valid results...
Ken was making sure all the materials to work the smelter in the basement still remained, so he didn't notice Damon bringing out a sharp, serrated shaper from a nearby drawer, and start slowly cutting a line down his hand.
Maybe it was because he was doing it to himself and didn’t have the benefit of the usual fighting adrenaline, but the pain was truly excruciating, and it felt like exposing the wound to air provoked a feeling of the oxygen trying to rush inside his palm—but then the healing commenced.
It was nice, sort of. The pain relief was instant, and it tingled, and then even more intensely when Damon tried cutting it open wider, interrupting the process midheal.
Holy shit, this might really work.