When Ned’s eyes flicked open, warm sunlight hitting the retinas, teeth clenched, it was not because his body was uncomfortable. Nor was it because the stone below was digging into his sides. Not even the sound of waves hitting land dragged him from his sleep.
No, for Ned, it was the smell.
There was a distinct and unfitting odor in the air. Ned had long associated ideas with smells - petrichor meant work, and fry-oil meant leisure. Today’s smell was something Ned had only experienced once before, when he was passerby to a railway accident. It stunk of red metal and danger.
Ned was lying on a rocky shore. Water gently flowed against the stones and towards the low sun. Far in the distance, Ned saw another shore much the same.
It certainly didn’t look like danger or indeed seem strange at all, aside from the fact that he had not been there when he went to bed last night. Ned focused on that fact. It was the only piece of the world around him that reinforced his fear.
Ned stood up. Text slid into his lower vision from the left.
NOTICE
-- Entity's body is confirmed to be functioning.
-- Please confirm your Literacy by responding to this text.
Stupefied, he responded.
“Confirm my literacy?”
The existing text flicked away into the space above. It was quickly replaced.
-- Literacy confirmed to be functional.
-- You may now consent to being Baptized.
“Baptize?"
-- Baptism is the essential yet painful process by which a sapient lifeform becomes a Caster. If you do not consent within 24 standard hours, you will become a Citizen.
-- Casters will die if their mind cannot support them through Baptism.
-- Casters will develop strange and advantageous powers.
-- 23:59:59
When Ned finished reading the text, the timer remained to count down. The rest of the words spun away into the sky.
His brow gradually furrowed. It did this without his input whenever Ned had to think too hard.
But Ned realized that he didn't have time to think. Yes, he had 24 hours. But as he watched the waves break on stone, he reminded himself he was on an unknown beach confronted by the smell of danger.
He shuffled through his pockets and found his library card. No pocket knife, no bread crumbs, no explanation.
In an abnormal situation like this, it would be necessary to rely on the bizarre. His brows unfolded.
"I consent to the Baptism."
Text flicked into view, but he didn't read it. Everything was blood. Plumes of smoke rose from the red ocean, bit into black stone towers covered in hands, arms, oily wetness. All bodies drowned, and the things above him in the empty sky weren't stars. Ned felt wrath swirl around him like caution tape in the wind. Danger! Danger! It's Danger!
One of the things in the sky plucked a piece of itself off, and stuffed that wriggling down his hoarse screaming mouth.
And then it was gone.
Ned had collapsed forward on the sand. His throat was sore from yelling and his muscles ached from writhing.
-- Baptism complete. You are the 5,038th Caster to survive the process in the history of this universe.
-- Opening Status...
PUBLIC STATUS
-- Name: Ned Locke
-- Role: Caster
● Source Word: HYDRA
● Level: 0
SKILL LIST
-- [Passive] Hydric Immortality [1]
● Cannot age from the moment you acquire this skill.
● Your body fully regrows over 24 standard hours. [+]
-- [Active] Lizard Sheds Tail [1]
● Consumes 2 Mana.
● Painlessly shed a part of your body without losing Vitality. This part may be no larger than your thumb. [+]
PARAMETER LIST
-- Mana [1]
● 1 / 5 Quantity [+]
● 0 Density
● 1.2 Quality
-- Vitality [1]
● 2 / 5 Quantity [+]
● 0 Density
● 1.8 Quality
Ned stared bleary-eyed at the information. His shaking hand reached out to the plus sign beside Vitality, tapped it, and dropped to the ground.
-- Vitality
● 2 / 5.1 Quantity
● 0 Density
● 1.8 Quality
"That’s nice," he said, and passed out.
...
Ned wasn't sure how long he rested. It felt like years, but the sun had barely moved in the sky. The water flowed the same, and the smell of danger was coming from somewhere only a little bit closer.
He shot upright.
Ned needed to defend himself, and that meant assessing his Status.
Interaction with it was more instinctive than he expected. He figured it was adjacent to learning a prosthetic limb, but much simpler - rather than moving in 3d space, he could move On or Off. More importantly, each switch was handily labeled in his mind, requiring no visceral experience with what action led to what result.
At first he considered testing Lizard Sheds Tail. But the "Skill" cost over a third of his Mana, which made it a poor first choice until he understood what he was spending - the last time he lost so much Mana, he passed out.
His thoughts then went to the parameters.
PARAMETER LIST
-- Mana [5]
● 5 / 5 Quantity [+]
● 0 Density
● 1.2 Quality
-- Vitality [3]
● 5.1 / 5.1 Quantity [+]
● 0 Density
● 1.8 Quality
Ned rubbed his chin when he saw the bracketed numbers. It seemed parameters regenerated over time, and for each full number refilled, he'd gain some of what the label helpfully called 'upgrade points'. These, he could spend to increase maximum Quantity.
Of course, Ned increased the Quantity on both Vitality and Mana. Since there seemed to be no way for him to increase anything else, capacity was the way to go. This time, he didn't use his hands. The button was in his mind.
-- Mana [4]
● 5 / 5.1 Quantity [+]
● 0 Density
● 1.2 Quality
-- Vitality [2]
● 5.1 / 5.3 Quantity [+]
● 0 Density
● 1.8 Quality
Wait.
-- Vitality [1]
● 5.1 / 5.5 Quantity [+]
● 0 Density
● 1.8 Quality
-- Vitality
● 5.1 / 5.7 Quantity
● 0 Density
● 1.8 Quality
Why did the first upgrade provide .1 Vitality, while each subsequent upgrade provided .2? Ned mulled it over for a moment, but the answer was clear to him.
The sub-parameter Quality. If decimals past the tenths place were hidden for convenience, then it would make some amount of sense, Ned thought. Simply add a tenth of Quality each time. 5.18, 5.36, 5.54, and so on. He could confirm his hypothesis if Mana didn't follow that same pattern - after all, his Mana Quality was only 1.2.
-- Mana [3]
● 5 / 5.2 Quantity [+]
● 0 Density
● 1.2 Quality
...
-- Mana
● 5 / 5.6 Quantity
● 0 Density
● 1.2 Quality
Ned was right! It also proved that though his status was accessible, it was not understood. He'd received the bare minimum of information to use its features, but optimization was up to him.
The scent strengthened, and Ned snapped out of his thoughts. He moved into a low crouch, hand feeling at the ground, and scuttled forward gripping a particularly large stone from the seaside. A weapon. He once more took in his surroundings.
The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
The beach was gray sand, dull sky, and navy blue water frothing ashore. Opposite where the sand fell away was a short crag-crusted cliff that looked to Ned much like his old man's knotted back muscles.
Ned pushed the thought away. Danger kept him firmly grounded.
His eyes scanned the squat cliffs for any easy way to climb up. No dice. Still, he knew he couldn't remain on low ground while the threat approached. He stepped forward carefully, wincing as every click of the river-rocks hit his ears like a thunderclap. His knuckles whitened as he gripped his weapon tighter.
He shuffled up the short stone wall with much effort. When his eyes peeked over, the smell folded down onto a being in front of his eyes.
The being was batlike at first. Veined and leathery wings attached to a fuzzy mammalian body. From the indistinct fluff he could see large beady eyes regarding him with curiosity. Four little hooked leg-tendrils split from its fluff and dug into the ground. The whole being was the size of a large dog.
"Note to self," the creature said in a monotone voice, "Contact made with a strange naked entirely hairless animal. Animal resembles Tunnel Rat if bipedal, carries crude tool, gives off feelings of danger despite feebleness. Likely incapable of transporting me to... wherever I am. Assuming local fauna."
"Hey." Ned said, brow gradually furrowing.
The strange creature squawked - Ned thought it a very human expression of surprise. The gaze intensified, and at once prickling danger returned to Ned's sinuses.
"Please stop doing that?" Ned said. "It's freaking me out."
"Explanation to fleshy biped. Yes, it should. I'm attempting to query your alien brain. However, even accounting for error, I am finding no knowledge of my language. For that matter, I am finding no knowledge of my language within my own mind. Instead I am aware of a supposed ‘multiversal’ language called English."
The thing was eerily still as it spoke, animated only by its long shallow breathing. Ned was reminded of the few military men he'd met back when-
"No way.", Ned said, suddenly aware of the language he had been thinking in. "I've been speaking Corish my whole life. What the hell changed?"
NOTICE
-- Condition satisfied.
-- The Physics And Culture Exchange System, or PACES, is an invention by the brilliant minds of Planet Earth. Five entities from each universe have been reshuffled. Do not pity: they will only be sent to worlds that can sustain their life. The process of transportation brings whiffs of undiscovered extra-physics to all universes. PACES is designed to guide every entity through the process of engaging with these new fundamental rules. This will be performed through the vehicle of the Status.
-- Please raise your level and experiment with your Status to learn more. By progressing with the aid of PACES, you consent to sending usage data to improve its features.
Ned and the strange fuzzy thing both glanced to the side to read their notices.
As one, they swore.
Ned collapsed back onto the rocks. The batlike thing made panicked gibbering noises and raked at the ground while Ned stared forlorn at the sky and muttered nothings to himself.
A few minutes later, they had both calmed down. Ned turned his head to look at the thing.
“I didn’t see anything. Neither of us did that.”
“Affirmation to meaty biped. I was too busy examining and exploring my... new environment... and neglected to pay attention to the lifeforms nearby.”
As one, they nodded. It was the kind of camaraderie that can only be formed by the sudden need for an anchor.
“Name’s Ned, by the way. Please stop calling me meaty biped and I’ll stop thinking of you as ‘The Thing’ in my head.”
“Acceptable. I am Beast.”
Ned was able to keep his face steady.
He examined Beast a little bit closer. There had been a public status for Ned. Did such a thing exist for all lifeforms?
It turned out there was at least a public status for Beast.
PUBLIC STATUS
-- Name: Beast 273
-- Role: Caster
● Source Word: TIDEPOOL
● Level: 0
What a strange surname. Ned decided not to ask.
“Beast, I’m gonna try something gross, just a heads-up.”
Beast huffed. “Note to self: Ned is overly worried about social norms even in extraordinary circumstances. It should have originated in a stratified society.”
Ned called up his status.
SKILL LIST
-- [Passive] Hydric Immortality [1]
● Cannot age from the moment you acquire this skill.
● Missing body parts regrow over 24 hours. [+]
-- [Active] Lizard Sheds Tail [1]
● Consumes 2 Mana.
● Painlessly shed a part of your body without losing Vitality. This part may be no larger than your thumb. [+]
PARAMETER LIST
-- Mana
● 5 / 5.6 Quantity
● 0 Density
● 1.2 Quality
-- Vitality
● 5.1 / 5.7 Quantity
● 0 Density
● 1.8 Quality
To gain upgrade points, he needed to recover his parameters. That meant he needed to drop them first. Spending Mana would be easy enough through his skill, but spending Vitality wasn’t so simple. He would need to reduce it manually.
Ned tried reassuring himself with happier things. How he wouldn’t have to toil away in the mine any longer. How he would never again need to work the tension out of his elder siblings’ thrashed backs. But that made him think about the father he left behind, and the world he’d never see again - and every road led to grief.
While immersed in this feeling, Ned raised his rock and smashed it against his right thumb. There was a sick crunch. He didn’t care. He was already feeling worse. He just kept his bloodshot eyes glued to his parameters.
-- Vitality
● 4.5 / 5.7 Quantity
● 0 Density
● 1.8 Quality
Good. It was reduced by a decent amount - albeit one that didn't seem to correlate to anything. He had found a method to reduce his Vitality without a skill.
Before the pain could catch up with the adrenaline, Ned focused his mind upon the skill Lizard Sheds Tail. The stinging pain flicked off.
Ned moved his palm into the air. The thumb remained on the ground.
Ned felt woozy from the loss of Mana, so he sat down and took deep breaths. Beast wandered over to look down at the dented finger lying on the gravel.
“Question to Ned. Why.”
“I’m a fool.” Ned just groaned. “I’m right-handed. I should’ve hit the other one instead.”
Beast was not satisfied with Ned’s response. One of those leathery wings slapped lightly against his head.
“Statement to Ned. I was alone and afraid. Now I am not alone, but you are making irrational and unnerving choices, so I may as well be. Explain yourself at once. Chase away my fear with reason." Beast’s beady eyes shone wet, but his voice was level.
Ned's eyes flicked over the landscape for a hole to hide in. Then he banished the thought and refocused on Beast.
“Sorry. I’ll explain.”
Beast huffed, so Ned hurried to summarize everything he had concluded about his status. That regenerating a parameter could increase its cap. That he had a way to spend mana, but not Vitality. That he could regrow lost body parts.
Beast tilted his head. “Affirmation to Ned. Now your actions make sense. But I don’t have a Vitality parameter. I have Mana and Moisture.”
Now it was Ned’s turn to be confused. “How can Moisture be a parameter? Mana, I kind of get it. It’s an ephemeral resource that I spend on active skills, and I think it’s tied to the brain or something. Vitality is similarly abstract, but I can infer it’s related to the state of my body. What does Moisture have in common with these broad resource categories?
Beast tilted his head. “Question to Ned. Moisture is a large part of all life back home, and you are made for a similar enough environment to survive here. But do you not utilize water?”
"I drink it, yeah."
"Quantifying the water in your body is more reasonable than summarizing health as a single number."
Ned didn’t really have anything to say to that. An awkward silence settled upon the two of them.
Ned broke it first with a non sequitur.
“Listen, we’re both stranded in a world that we don’t belong in, and we’re both Casters. It said I was 5,038th in this universe, which means there’s a good few people out there who already live in this world, and they’re Casters. Those people will figure shit out faster than we will, because they have a larger sample size and can talk to each other. Right?”
Beast tilted his head.
Ned took a deep shuddering breath. He reached into his mind and called up his status, then shoved it towards Beast.
“We’ll need to work together right now. You’re-” Ned swallowed. “-the only other person that would understand this feeling.”
Beast was silent. His eyes traced invisible words. Then black lines bloomed in the air before Ned.
PUBLIC STATUS
-- Name: Beast 273
-- Role: Caster
● Source Word: TIDEPOOL
● Level: 0
SKILL LIST
-- [Passive] Tidal Mind
● You may spend Moisture as if it were Mana.
● You do not suffer the ill effects of dehydration, water intoxication, or drowning.
● Mana depletion does not tire you.
● For the first 23 standard hours of a day, your Moisture's regeneration applies negatively.
-- [Active] Dip Within Knowledge Pool [1]
● Consumes 2 Mana.
● Gather fifteen words of target entity’s knowledge on a chosen subject.
PARAMETER LIST
-- Mana
● 1 / 5.2 Quantity
● 0 Density
● 2.0 Quality
-- Moisture
● 0 / 5.5 Quantity
● 0 Density
● 1.0 Quality
Ned clicked his tongue. “It seems like neither of our skills are great for self-defense or wilderness survival. That sucks. Tidal Mind seems like an awfully slow start, too... Wait, you spent the upgrade point for Tidal Mind already. Is that why it's only 23 hours?”
Beast made a strange barking noise. It was probably a laugh. “Statement to Ned. Slow start? Maybe, but you misunderstand its mechanics... I don't blame you. When I received my status, I lost a point of mana from the mildly traumatic procedure, and regenerating that provided me with a mana upgrade point. On the other hand, my negative regeneration removed five moisture over time but still provided five moisture upgrade points - meaning I can still progress on negative regeneration, as long as there's something to lose!
"Moreover, your wanton self-destruction just gave me an idea. These parameters are loosely tied to the state of our bodies. If I were to drink water during this time, surely I could refill my moisture to degenerate once more, and thus improve my secondary mana pool! It's not perfect, but it seems I’m specialized for spending Mana or Moisture on my Active skill.”
Beast’s wings drooped. "If only the skill it provided me was useful."
Ned shrugged. “I wouldn’t say that. We’re in a foreign world. Even with the new universal language, there will be plenty of customs to learn, common knowledge to internalize, and cultural landmines we need to avoid. It seems to help us out with those situations.”
“Statement to Ned. That’s only if we survive long enough to encounter civilization. We’re in the wilderness right now.”
“Point. We better start moving, then. Settlements won’t just walk toward us.”
...
Neither of them knew how it had happened, but Beast was sleepily looped around Ned’s shoulders like a backpack. The pitter-patter of Ned’s footfalls was slowly lulling Beast into a comfortable dream.
“Hey.” Ned said.
“Question to Ned. What.”
“How do you do that? I know some of my old world's idioms don’t translate exactly to English, but I can’t even remember the originals... You’re out of your comfort zone too, maybe even more than me. But you keep vocal tics from what I assume is your old language. Why is that?”
Beast shifted on his back. Damn this anchor, poking the wound. Damn him for acquiescing.
“Explanation to Ned. You saw my surname. I was the 273rd Beast created by the most masterful scientist the world has ever known. My own world, that is. The minds from Planet Earth... PACES seems to have surpassed even her magnum opus.
"There were many of us, all identical, and our vocal cords were crude things. We struggled to express complex tones. We struggled to recognize who was speaking to whom. It wasn’t a feature of the language’s syntax so much as a tacked-on habit. Now these habits are all I have left of my old world.”
The sun dipped below the horizon.
“Statement to self. I don’t want to forget.”
The long night began.