Kael Draven
“I can't believe it, Sophia. We now own a submarine that is halfway to becoming a giant sieve,” he muttered as he inspected the holes in the walls. Water was still pouring in at a slow but persistent pace.
“Well, technically, we don't own it. It's more like the system just slapped it on us in a surprise survival combo,” my sister replied, ‘Hey, it says here we have a new ability! What was it, ’Improvised Repair'?”
“Yes, 'Improvised Repair.' Because nothing says 'legendary skill' like being a submarine mechanic with basic materials.”
Before we could debate it any further, a holographic message appeared in front of us:
“Skill: Improvised Repair. First free activation. wish to use it now?”
Sofia Draven
“Yes, please!” I replied before Kael could start with one of his sarcastic monologues.
The screen displayed a flashy graphic, with tools floating around a figure that clearly looked like me (who designed this?). A small counter appeared:
“Searching for nearby materials...”
“What materials, this is a submarine! We have nothing but water and despair.”
The screen ignored my comment and displayed a list:
Metal fragments from the walls.
Loose wires.
Some masked chewing gum?
“Gum? Kael, that has to be your fault!”
“I didn't intend to carry emergency supplies of this quality,” she retorted.
Kael Draven
Suddenly, a swirl of energy surrounded the damaged areas of the sub. Holes began to magically close, wires reconnected themselves, and the gumballs.... well, they disappeared, but I'm sure they came in handy.
In a matter of minutes, the sub stopped looking like a sieve and was, in theory, functional again.
“That was it, we fixed a sub with chewing gum and loose metal?” I asked, perplexed.
The screen glowed again:
“Repair completed: Sub is now at 85% functionality. First use of skill: FREE. Next uses will request additional resources or a payment in 'System Credits'.”
“Credits? We don't even know how to get that!” he exclaimed.
“Minor details,” said Sofia, with a quiet smile.
Sofia Draven
You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.
“Well, since the sub won't sink immediately, can we see the system map we unlocked?”
The screen responded immediately:
“Do you want to access the system map? Y/N”
Yes, of course!”
“Warning: The map is locked until a user is registered and the initial monthly subscription payment is completed.”
“Subscription? I don't even have a credit card here!”
Kael Draven
“Wait, wait! Does the system have a business model? Who the hell designed this, a phone company?”
The system ignored our outrage and continued to display messages:
“Current sub status:”
Oxygen: 92% (stable)
Power: 63% (needs recharging)
Defenses: Operational
Galley: 2% (canned soup, anyone?).
“Great! At least we won't die of asphyxiation... yet.”
Sofia Draven
A new message appeared on the screen, as annoying as all the others:
“Reminder: Your next mission will unlock at: 23:10:45. Please scout and prepare resources before the start of the next event.”
“Scouting, huh? Sure, because this place screams 'security'!”, I said sarcastically.
“Come on, Kael, it could be fun,” Sofia replied, scanning the surroundings.
“Fun? We're trapped in a submarine with limited oxygen, no decent food and a system that charges us for everything. This isn't fun; this is aquatic hell.”
The screen popped up once more:
“System Tip: Keep a positive attitude. Challenges are easier with a smile.”
“Positive attitude? The system has a sense of humor!
Kael Draven
Not a second after Sofia said this the system came back to life again, because of course, it couldn't leave us alone for a second.
“System Note: The system has detected very high stress levels to increase crew morale, soothing music will be enabled on the base. First use free of charge. Next uses will be subject to premium subscription terms.”
“Oh great, soothing music? At least something useful...” I commented, feeling momentarily optimistic for the first time in what seemed like forever.
But before I could savor that small victory, another message popped up:
“Notice: music will be enabled for the system only, not for users. You will enjoy the indirect benefits of the enhanced environment.”
Sofia Draven
“What does that mean, the system will hear the music but we won't?” I asked, incredulous.
“Wait, are you telling me that an artificial intelligence system is going to listen to soothing music while we're still stuck with the anxiety of being trapped in a submarine?” replied Kael, clearly on the verge of an existential breakdown.
The system soon confirmed our worst suspicions:
“Correct. The environment enhancement is based on the system's ability to maintain its optimal performance. For the time being, no payment will be required from users for this service.”
Kael Draven
“This has got to be a joke. Are we on some kind of cosmic reality show where the goal is to see how long a person can hold out before they go insane?”
“Maybe it's a psychological test,” Sofia said, trying to contain her laughter. “Or a test of patience. If you think about it, it's like a video game, but with a DJ exclusive to the system.”
Before she could respond with anything more sarcastic, a soft sound began to flood in...but only through the panel. It was a mixture of ocean waves and soft flutes, probably the most soothing thing I'd ever heard, but it was reserved for the damn system.
Sofia Draven
“Well, at least someone seems to be enjoying it,” I commented, noting how the panel seemed to flicker more smoothly, as if the system was in a mini-spa while we were dealing with everything else.
Kael walked over to the panel, tapping it lightly. “Hey, share the headset or turn this off, you digital parasite!”
The system didn't respond, but I'm pretty sure that last flicker was a mocking gesture.
Kael Draven
“Great. Now not only are we stuck in this absurd world, but on top of that the system has the luxury of relaxing while we do all the work. It's official, this is the worst day of my life.”
“Come on, Kael, it could be worse.”
“Worse? Sofia, we're on a newly repaired submarine with magic gum, no map, and the only being here with access to relaxing music is a machine. Explain to me how it could be worse!”
“Well... we could be out of oxygen,” I said, smiling.
Kael sighed, plopping down in the only semi-comfortable seat in the place. “At this rate, the only thing that's going to relax me is a total system shutdown.”
The system, as if it had heard him, blasted another message:
“Note: Relaxing music will end in 10 minutes. Enjoy the ambiance while it lasts.”
“Oh, how generous, can I tip the system?” muttered Kael, crossing his arms.