image [https://i.postimg.cc/nLPRX6hw/divider-TC.png]

Palming a medallion, I appreciated how weighty and satisfying its value was.

You, my little friend, will be my ticket out.

Then I held the coin to the noon sun, it’s aberrant glare projecting a hazy orange instead of a crisp yellow.

But my coin wasn’t concerned with the unearthly sunlight.

It’s true state was clear, as clear as a quartz crystal could be. A strange transparent square marked the center point, granting a window into the real world. Kinda like a Chinese coin. As I played with it, it’s sheen began to deceive. It had a secret. There was a storm frozen inside.

Is it money or magic?

The buzz of the saws picked up. And then rose an octave.

Before I could get up to satiate my curiosity, the hum rushed my way. From behind my tree and beyond my sight, a mass swam my way until it was all around me. This swarm of sharp sounds took over my world, cutting off my connection to anything outside.

The noises were not the product one or two sources, but thousands, maybe millions.

Countless bee’s the size of USB drives did laps around myself, occasionally stopping to stare. In seconds, the density got dark. A wall of black and orange went up and I didn’t feel welcome.

I grabbed a handful of dirty arboreal debris and tossed the organic clump into the living striped barrier. The bee’s graciously evaded, leaving me a shield’s worth of freedom. Nervous about their intent, I decided to jump out of the brief window I created.

Unfortunately, the beefy bees followed like a single hivemind organism.

Panicked, I hauled my pathetically unathletic frame through the sea of leaves, stumbling as I tried to wade against the inevitable.

Is everything in this forest a monster?

I would’ve retreated towards the sparkies, but in my desire to count in peace, I had moved too far from their action. And more importantly, an ominous curtain of yellow, orange, and black shimmered in-between.

After another face full of tree droppings, my thoughts pulled me out. Something’s off. I heard them, for sure, but when I jumped through the windowpane of air in their contiguous barrier, I felt nothing.

In fact, I wasn’t stung, not even once.

Was this more magic?

Unable to outrun them as they encircled me yet again, this time I was thoroughly cocooned in an upright position. They zipped around with tremendous speed, quickly building a towering cylinder to hold me like a bullet in a barrel. Thoroughly apprehensive, I assumed they were agitated, but they never attacked. Either they were afraid of me, or attempting some kind of mystical immobilization effort.

My impaired heart couldn’t handle another cross-country nightmare, especially after last night’s poor sleep. But if it came to it, I’d walk through this tapestry of stingers and live to tell the tale. After all, I was miraculously healed once.

But I’d take that risk only as a last resort.

As I stood still, the tornado of buzzers increased its vicious speed, yet none broke ranks to sting my exposed skin. Gradually, I settled on the notion that their threat would be kept to a distance. A very intelligent gesture.

The mastermind behind this monster or its magic wanted to hold me here for a reason.

Inside the swarming colony, I now felt like the queen bee, or at least a guest awaiting royalty. I stared into at the winged troops until 3D flattened into 2D, waiting for something… anything, to happen. The living barrier responded with glowing numerals. These orange digits, electronic in presence, read: ‘11:59’

And then.

‘12:00’

The numbers faded without fanfare, without a celebratory conclusion to the apparent clockwork.

But then it hit me — a light of revelation beamed down from above. This skyscraper of bees, celestial/divine? in reach, had a divine delivery for me.

My majestic wake up call fell from the heavens of the hive. A hole had opened skyward, and a celestial gift was making its way down the tornadic tower of buzzing creatures. Like a dying meteor, its descent was rapid but free of prolonged flare.

With a crunch and a dramatic thump, it sat perfectly centered before me. I bent down to look at the smoking black box at my feet.

Not a box — a perfect cube?

So perfect it couldn’t be natural.

Metallic, heavy, maybe the size of a baseball.

I wiggled my fingers over its personal space, testing the boundaries between mystery and delivery.

It gave off no heat. In fact, the cube was cold enough for a man who died more than he lived.

Is this for me?

I held it up to the bees, expecting a response to my internal questions.

Instead, the drones flooded together. My cocoon dissipated as these mutant bees folded into each other like clipping models in a video game. The center of gravity was before me, this transformation evidently beyond the realm of flesh and blood. As the mass of orange and black continued to mold in front of my face, it shifted into a sterile grey. It was a murky, silvery pewter. Like living polish on brushed gunmetal.

Greater definition came to greet me as glowing characters elevated against the pane of real or unreal material.

These characters weren’t people, they represented a language.

“You have been indoctrinated into the Trapezium System.”

A — loading? — symbol appeared above this confirmation message, occasionally flipping and flickering with all the similarity of computer software.

image [https://i.postimg.cc/xdJ95x8N/trapezium-system-2.png]

Finally, the odd hourglass faded away, and text returned.

Stolen novel; please report.

“We are the watchers of this world, the guardians of the game of life.“

The hovering orange diction continued to digitally print in a cinematic reveal.

“This hexahedron is our gift to you. A piece of our heart, so that you will serve a way of life. So that you may grow closer to the Source.”

My own fancy cube. How generous.

“We are not gods, but we are your guides.

We will always be connected.”

The text ended as its orange glow fell to grey.

Uh huh…

Anyway.

I shook the black cube, remembering the words of the traffickers at the bonfire. “Is this the vault he mentioned? Is this for me? Is it like a savings account?”

Excited, a wealth of questions collected in my mental vault, pratically leaking out at this point.

"What about this System? Is it like a program or a browser?"

Shamefully, I unintentionally vocalized every bit of my stream of consciousness.

“And, uh... is this how I use magic?”

Thanking god no one was here to hear this, I sent my final wishful question to the metallic veil hoping my childlike desire would be fulfilled.

And without judgment, the mysterious pane provided an answer, first with a number.

“1.”

“Hexahedrons can store crystallized Source plasmoids. In your native lexicon, these are known as Everspark, Everglass, or Everore. Your hexahedron is not limited by dimension or by space. It is bound to you and is indestructible. Whatever Evermaterial or quartzified Source it contains, you control, and you alone.”

I assumed hexahedron’s were the technical term for cubes, or close-enough cubes.

This articulate hologram enjoys its geometry.

“2.”

“Hexahedrons hold personal profile information.”

Like my cellphone number?

“You may access this profile anytime by touching your vault and desiring access.”

I did as instructed and watched as my pane space added a new window.

By thought alone, a simple stem-and-leaf chart came into being.

It’s an array of stats?

Weird. I had run through my fair share of RPGs. Like the classics — back when games were onetime purchases.

Inevitably, I moved on to the many-worded cousins of the electronic RPG. You know them, right? The addicting self-insert LITRPG fantasies that blew up several years ago?

Whatever the derivative, it all developed from old tabletop war games.

War, conflict, strategy… these were the elemental entities behind every epic ever. Extra sub-atomic flavors came in over the decades, adding needed dimensionality. Tolkien, Dungeons and Dragons, ULTIMA Online MUDs, comics, anime, and so on all shifted the genre into a greater universe that encompassed most of the entertainment space today.

And yet, this was unlike any game system back home. My first impression tasted sour — I wasn’t addicted nor was I instantly gratified.

But I was befuddled.

No strength, no wisdom, or constitution stat.

No HP or MP.

There were no combat stats at all.

None that that I recognized, at least.

SPT 91 [7+84] AGE 19 [60+84] RGT 0 TS INACTIVE

These were not your grandfather’s stats. This was a very alien game.

Below the numbers, I saw my first name and my — species?

ID JACK [ce 52 e8 c8 10] SPECIES TOURMALINE

Tourmaline?

Isn’t that a type of stone?

And below that, a vertical beam and a number. My experience bar?

LEVEL 0

Before I could prompt this Trapezium System any further, a very toothy nightmare woke me from my data trance.

Not a big bat, but a beast nevertheless. The head of a dire wolf had pierced my panoramic panel, a cruel 3D reminder against my cold 2D distractions.

I held in a yelp as I fell backwards. It’s feral canine teeth were belly-button high at the start, and now well over my own head.

Fear began eating away my senses. My vision tunneled, my hearing narrowed into a cone, and my heart rate prepared for a struggle.

It menacingly leaned in as I looked for a rock. The furry fright either failed to notice me, or lost interest. Unable to understand why it deferred it’s way through a golden window of attack, I met it’s jowled face and we both froze. I watched as another set of teeth sprayed through the holographic display. The wolf's head fell to my feet, perfectly split at the wall of light.

A hand came for me and pulled me through my grey electronic mantle. It was the sparkie, Rend, with his claymore-cousined chainsaw at full rip.

Eye’s blinking, I made sure my attacker lay dead while rushing to my rescuer’s side. The dire wolf had a mouthful of teeth, but my lumber knight was armed to the teeth.

“You okay?”

I nodded, unable to speak. Calming myself down took a moment, but irritation came instantly. The panel almost got me killed. Unlike last night, when I dialed into the situation gradually, abrupt jumpscares come as an achilles for me. The one fear I’ve made no progress against.

I kicked the corpse to shake more of my nerves out. “Bi—big wolf,” I got out. At least this scare couldn’t cry to it’s parents.

“They can chew through bone, but chainsaws can chew through anything.” Rend chuckled at my staggered heaving. “Relax, you’re safe with us. We do this all the time. These are weapons as much as they are lumber hardware.”

‘A weapon for conventional monsters,’ I thought, doubting their power tools would be a match against those hellish bats.

My temperature cooled as I regained control of my troublesome heartbeat. Now physically reassembled, I picked up my dropped cube, certain it shouldn’t be forgotten.

“You were staring at the panes, weren’t ya? Not a good idea out here.” He gave me a parental look, like I was the child that cried too much. “Personally, I don’t touch Tezium until I’m safe in my bed.”

The way he sounded out the word tickled my consciousness. The written text from the hologram doubly so. If this was a new world, how did I understand it’s language? Was it the Trapezium System automatically translating? How integrated was it with this experience?

Tentatively, these answers were now within reach.

Threat managed to cut my digital dream in half, but I endeavored to return to the System for the full story posthaste.

“Get to the accordion, the yarder is on it’s way,” Rend said before instructing with visual direction.

After thanking him for everything, I headed over.

From here on out, I’d open my screens under different conditions.

If sunlight doesn't guarantee safety, then civilization is my last hope.