The small bits of glass proved to be more of a pain than Tom had anticipated. Thankfully the power was still on, so he had light to work with as he used a pair of tweezers to pluck countless small slivers from his palm and fingers, slowly building a collection of bloody glass bits on the counter top.
He had managed to bring up the previous screens showing the results of his battle with the feral lizards. Along with the notices from the system about a new ability and something about upgrade tokens.
Encounter ended! Restricted Action System disabled. Victory to the worthy!
Julkani Feral (Juvenile)
+3 Credits, +10 Base experience
Julkani Feral (Juvenile)
+3 Credits, +10 Base experience
Julkani Feral (Adolescent)
+8 Credits, +40 Base experience
Julkani Feral (Adolescent)
+8 Credits, +40 Base experience
Experience earned allows for additional system capabilities. Upgrade unlocked.
Enhanced Statistical Information
Provided additional information about selected targets, such as name, species, and current health. Can be further upgraded.
Experience gained allows for system assisted enhancement. Please confirm enhancement.
2 enhancement tokens available.
Strength – 5
Primarily a measure of physical ability, with a secondary affect on overall health.
Dexterity – 6
Boosts bodily control and fine motor skills. Secondary affect on reaction time and overall speed.
Intelligence - 4
Memory retention and recall
Willpower - 5
Resistance to psychological effects and trauma
There was something incredibly off putting about having everything that made you who you were reduced down into numbers on a board and told that you could simple spend a point to be 'enhanced'. As if improvement could be distilled down into tokens and applied to your body.
He shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other, and only partly from the sharp sting of pulling a large piece of class out of his hand. If what this..system was saying was correct, then the entirety of humanity was about to undergo a major shift. Anyone that earned these tokens could change themselves, alter their bodies and minds on a whim so long as they had the tokens to do so.
Still, Tom thought of his fight with the reptiles, and the way he had just barely scraped by through sheer luck and a bit of guesswork at the end. If more of those things were out there, or god forbid, worse things, then he needed all the help he could get and he didn't doubt for a moment that there was worse coming.
So as he plucked the last bit of glass from his hand, the choice was made. Just thinking about putting the points into Dexterity was enough for the dialogue box to pop up asking him to confirm his allocation of tokens.
Finalize enhancement selection.
0 enhancement tokens available.
Strength – 5
Primarily a measure of physical ability, with a secondary affect on overall health.
Dexterity – 6 (+2)
Boosts bodily control and fine motor skills. Secondary affect on reaction time and overall speed.
Intelligence - 4
Memory retention and recall
Willpower - 5
Resistance to psychological effects and trauma
“Yea, confirm. That'll do it.” He poured a liberal amount of rubbing alcohol across his cut hand and hissed in pain as the system confirmed the upgrade for him.
Enhancement choices confirmed. Please allow up for 24 Earth hours for full effect.
“Aw what? I have to wait. That's shitty. I figured it would be instant.”
He grumbled to himself and finished wrapping a bit of gauze around his hand. The glass had cut him up pretty good, but luckily none of the cuts were too deep. It should be fine to use so long as he didn't do anything too strenuous. The main downside was that his right hand was dominant so doing things was going to be a bit of a pain in the ass for a while.
Confirmed request for rapid enhancement! Would you like to rush the application of upgrades?
Please note that rapid enhancement can lead to severe side effects up to and including maiming, deboning, death, and extreme flatulence.
“What the f- absolutely not! I'll wait for it to happen normally. Maiming, deboning? What the hell are you doing that means I could lose my bones?!” He shook his head “Never mind, that was rhetorical, don't answer, please.”
Thankfully the system decided to leave him alone after that and a small blue timer appeared in the bottom left of his vision showing a countdown for the enhancements to finish installing, or whatever it was they were doing to his body.
The second thing to do was test out the new upgrade he had unlocked. According to the handy little tool tip it would let him see information about targets. But how to make it work.
Heading back into the living room, he took a seat on the couch and lifted the .22, frowning at the flakes of dried blood on the stock and bolt. It wouldn't do for mechanism to get gummed up. As he continued to stare at it, a faint yellow highlight surrounded the weapon and a pop up appeared next to the weapon.
The visual of it appearing next to the gun itself rather than obscuring his view as the larger notifications seemed wont to do.
Bolt Action .22
Average damage
15
Damage type
Piercing
Durability
95.00%
That was..certainly something. Tom wasn't sure he would get used to seeing abstract concepts such as how hard a weapon hit listed in plain value, but he wasn't complaining about the information.
“Alright, well what about...”
He raised his own hand and focused on it. The same outline appeared followed by a pop up window.
Thomas Sallow
Health
97/100
Stamina
100.00%
“Yea that's not ok.” He shook his hand to clear the text box and sighed. There was going to be an adjustment period for all this, but he felt as if he was handling it pretty well, all things considered. It was kind of handy to be able to get an idea of how tired and healthy he was at a glance, even if he objected to having his entire existence parsed down to numbers on a screen.
“So what to do now...” He took out his phone and looked at the time. It was only 2:30 in the afternoon yet it had felt like an eternity. So many events crammed into such a short period had completely warped his sense of time. Still no signal though, which he supposed was to be expected.
After peeking out the window and making sure no more lizards were coming to finish what he started earlier, Tom dragged the corpse of the one in his living room out and into the yard. Leaving a trailing smear of orange blood trailing through the living room and out the front door like something out of an alien murder mystery.
Not bothering to clean up the rest of the mess, he went back into his bedroom and found a replacement for his ruined duffel bag, stuffing clothes and canned food back into it from where it had been scattered across the living room.
Slinging the bag over his shoulder and taking his rifle, he stepped outside and into the pleasant afternoon air. Taking his keys he went to lock the front door out of habit and noticed the missing window right next to the door. With a shrug and a sigh he pocketed his keys and headed off down the sidewalk. Throwing a final glance down the street towards the home with the broken door, he didn't see anyone or anything moving around. He wasn't surprised that no one thanked him for saving them, but a small part of him was still disappointed that there was no acknowledgment of his efforts at all.
If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
Turning back to the road ahead, he began to mentally plan out the trip he had made dozens of times before, though this time it would be on foot and with possibly monstrous animals roaming around looking for a snack.
Mary was with her parent's at their midtown apartment. Usually that was about twenty minutes by car, assuming traffic was light. Tom figured he could probably make the walk in a couple of hours, which wouldn't be too terrible normally. But times were certainly anything but normal, and the idea of having to spend two hours on foot crossing through the city was almost enough to make him turn around and go back inside.
Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, Tom picked up his pace, duffel bag slung over his back and rifle in his hands as he began the long walk. His gun was loaded, and he had thirteen rounds of ammo left, tucked into the side pocket of his cargo pants. He hoped he wouldn't need it.
A chilly breeze blew across the road, sweeping along red and orange leaves. Promising that the weather was only going to get colder from here on. Despite the pleasant weather and the shining sun, Tom felt uncomfortable, a faint itching between his shoulders causing him to constantly look behind him.
Turning onto the main highway that lead into the city, he shifted to stand towards the center of the road, doing his best to avoid getting too close to the tree line on either side. The woods weren't thick, but he wasn't taking any chances with something bursting from the foliage at him. He'd seen too many horror movies for that.
Despite his paranoia and the constant feeling of being watched, he managed to continue on without issue. The rustle of leaves being blown by the wind and his own breathing were the only sounds in the air. An odd stillness had settled over everything, there was no bird song, no squirrels foraging. It was eerie, a feeling of otherness that pervaded everything as he approached the city limits after around fifteen minutes of steady walking.
According to his phone, it was just past three in the afternoon. That put him arriving at T.J.'s place sometime around five. It was good he left as quickly as he did, if Tom had waited any longer he would be walking as the sun set and that was not a fun prospect to consider.
The southern half of Ashville was arranged in a large semicircle with the main road running through it before looping back into downtown. This area, called The Horseshoe by the locals, was mostly suburban homes, apartments, and small stores for middle class families.
As Tom neared one of the many cookie cutter suburbs that made up the bulk of Ashville's housing, his ears picked up a faint popping noise. The sound so quiet that he would never have noticed it had there been any other noise to hide it. It sounded out every few seconds, carrying over the roofs of identical white and blue homes lined up in rows on the street to his right.
Curiosity, combined with the desire to talk to another person about the insane things going on, won out as Tom headed off the main road and into the small neighborhood. He was greeted by the site of a stripped down truck resting in its driveway. One of those massive 'I'm not overcompensating I swear' lifted four by four trucks that balding old men liked to drive during a midlife crisis.
Someone had literally picked it clean. Stripping the metal off its frame and leaving a husk behind. They'd even taken the tires and windows somehow. Just the frame of the vehicle resting on the concrete of the driveway was all that remained of the three ton truck.
“Who would even bother to do this? Why?” He approached the silver frame, crouching to get a closer look at the curious sight. Small indents ran all over the frame, the metal actually slightly bent and deformed in countless spots. Small flakes of white paint were all that was remained of the previous metal shell.
The soft popping sound hadn't ceased as he stopped. The sound actually increasing in frequency and intensity, with one every other second.
Pop.
Pop
pop
pop
pop
It was almost like a rhythm, the sound clearly coming from a home on the next street, behind the building Tom was at. Stepping off the driveway and walking between the homes, Tom leaned against the side wall and dipped his head around the corner to take a look.
He was greeted by the sight of two small humanoids, each probably around three feet tall at most. They both had human shaped heads covered in beige armor, small fins running from from just between the eyes and down the back of the helmet like a crest.
With rotund little bodies that were almost perfect spheres and stubby legs, they looked like what a drunk artist may draw a dwarf as. Their bodies were covered in the same gleaming metallic armor as their heads, the sun catching and shining off it like a polished surface.
Both of them were turned away from him, one standing on top of a half disassembled car as its companion opened the passenger side door. Using something looked like the head of a shovel stuck inside a drill, the one on the roof lowered the tool and with a soft pop, knocked the top hinges off the door before passing the tool down for its companion to do the same.
As the door feel free, the bottom scavenger tossed the drill spade back up and grabbed the door before tossing it to the side with the sound of crunching metal.
Tom squinted his eyes at the fully visible one on top of the roof, willing the information box to appear.
Clockwerk Scavenger (Automaton)
Health
50/50
Armor
8
The box appeared in the upper left of his vision, showing a little front facing view of the Scavenger along with a tiny readout showing its health. Tom looked at the stat card, and back at now named Clockwerk Scavengers, idly wondering how the system computed things such as health and armor. There were so many things he didn't understand about the way the system did things that it was frustrating as hell. You'd think it would have a user manual or tutorial.
He was so distracted by staring at the stat box, watching the two strip the car to pieces, and musing on how the system worked that he almost didn't notice the faint ticking sound drawing closer from behind him, coming around the edge of the home next to him.
Sounding like a mix between a grandfather clock and old watch, the ticking grew louder as Tom turned, intending to move away from the wall and leave. Instead he came face to face with another of the Clockwerks as it rounded the corner of the home next to him.
Unlike its companions this one was taller by about a foot, with a narrow body and gangling arms that lead down to surprisingly thick legs with seams through the armor across its upper thighs. It still had the same shining beige armor and fin helmet of its comrades, with three thin slits running horizontally across the helmet where the mouth would be. Its eyes were set deep back into the helmet, glowing a dull blue as its gaze landed on Tom in the middle of trying to sneak away.
They both froze, Tom's grip tightening on the rifle as they stared across the small distance. Tom was in the alley between two of the homes, the automaton having just come around the back side of home behind Tom.
Licking his lips, he took a slow step backwards and into the alley. This was apparently the wrong move as the Clockwerk's eyes changed from dull blue to a piercing amber color and it let out a shrill whistle through the gaps in its helmet.
A hatch popped open on the automaton's upper thigh, one of the plates sliding outwards like a desk drawer as it reached down and pulled a gun from the compartment, its long arm snapping upwards towards Tom.
The overly curious man had seen enough. The moment the creature let out cry, he had bolted back into the alley and booked it back towards the entrance of the neighborhood. Hearing the ticking behind him, he ducked around the corner just as a muffled thump filled the air and a sharpened point of metal nearly six inches long slammed into the dirt where he had just been.
“Holy shit!” He looked down at what was basically a railroad spike that had been fired at him and was currently stuck quivering in the dirt. “Fuck you! I was just looking, asshole!” He looked around the corner to see the automaton dashing after him, its metal boots kicking up clods of dirt as it ran.
Engagement detected. Implementing Restricted Action System. May the worthy prevail.
Thomas Sallow (Defending)
Clockwerk Scout (Attacking)
“I said not to use my full name, damnit!” Tom checked the .22 in his hands, making sure it was still loaded and ready to fire. He briefly considered trying to run away, but he had no idea if the system would even let him, or if an invisible wall would force him to fight to the death.
No, better to make a stand and put the automaton down now. As the system announced his turn and the small five second counter appeared in his vision, he hefted the rifle and took a deep breath.
“Come and get it you overgrown wristwatch.”
Bracing the rifle against his shoulder, Tom leaned around the corner and found that the overly aggressive robot had begun to chase him into the open space between the homes stuck at the far end of the grassy alley. Its metallic body ticking softly as it shifted in place, the odd looking spike gun held in both hands in a textbook low ready position.
Raising the rifle, Tom quickly scoped in on the things head and squeezed off a shot.
A small section of the Scout's helmet deformed as its head jerked to the side, a faint 7 drifting up from the impact. In the same instant, it raised its gun and fired another spike with a pneumatic hiss and whoosh of white vapor. The spike punched straight through the corner of the wall Tom was hiding behind, narrowly missing him as it continued past in a spray of wood fragments.
“Fuck! I thought it was my turn?”
The timer hadn't even ticked over, the blue 1 had just reached 0 as the robot fired. It seemed more like it had reacted to his own shot than taken its turn.
If it could fire even when he was supposed to be able to act freely then that changed things. Though thinking back on it, he was able to move around and escape the lizard that had managed to get into the house even though it wasn't technically his turn.
Perhaps it was related to proximity? He let out a growl of frustration as he slammed a new round into the chamber. There were too many unknowns, too many ways to fuck up and get killed over something stupid.
The timer flipped over to the Clockwerk and the robot wasted no time. Not bothering to take cover, it began to sprint down the alley in a mad dash towards Tom's position. Its short legs tore up grass and kicked dirt in a spray behind it as it raised its weapon and fired a spike, forcing Tom to hide further back around the edge to avoid a spike penetrating through the wall and into something squishy.
Realizing that the automaton simply planned to rush him and gun him down as it came around the corner, Tom slipped his duffel bag off his shoulder. If it had worked once...well it might work again.
With a loud whistle similar to old steam locomotives, the Scout came barreling out of the alley. Just as it cleared the corner, a gray duffel bag came soaring into view, aimed low towards its legs. Reacting on programmed instinct, the robot simply leaped over the minor inconvenience, attention diverted for less than a quarter of a second.
That was enough time for the stock of Tom's .22 to clothesline it right in what passed for its mouth. The impact ringing up and down his arms and cracking the butt of the gun as the Scout toppled backwards with a thud, amber eyes dimming slightly as it readjusted.
Tom glanced at the timer. The Clockwerk still had two seconds left before the swap. While he was able to interfere with it when it got close enough, he still wasn't able to shoot. So it was time to improvise again.
Stepping forward, he stomped down the robot's hand holding the spike gun, pinning it to the ground as he raised the rifle, the barrel dipping into the things helmet to press against an eye with a soft clink. Beneath him, the Scout struggled to free its arm, writhing and kicking its legs to no avail as the timer dropped down to less than half a second.
Realizing it wouldn't be able to free its captive limb, it dropped its left hand down to its thigh. Another panel sliding upwards to reveal the bronze handle of a combat knife. At a quarter of a second remaining, it ripped the knife free of its sheath and thrust upwards, aiming for Tom's hip.
The timer swapped.
A sharp crack echoed across the rooftops.
The knife fell from the Scout's limp fingers with a clatter, rolling off its metallic chest and onto the grass. Its head twitched, the ticking that had filled the air slowing and distorting until, with a final spasm, the robot went still. The amber light fading from its one good eye as smoke leaked from the shattered lens.
Tom let out a shaky sigh as he stumbled back against the wall of the house, having the presence of mind to reload with trembling hands before sinking to the ground. His eyes on the knife next to the dead automaton.
“Too close. Been too close both times.” He mumbled to himself, ignoring the numb feeling in his limbs as the adrenaline wore off. Compared to the ferals, that hadn't been anything near as intense, yet he'd still almost died twice. Once to the spike gun and then when it had pulled its knife. If the thing had reacted just a bit faster, processed a bit quicker, then he would have a knife lodged in his gut right now.
“Have to do better. Can't keep doing it like this.”
Knowing he couldn't stay there long, as the two scavengers had ran off and would likely return with help, Tom helped himself to the Automaton's knife and gun before retrieving his, thankfully undamaged, duffel bag.
Kneeling next to the robot, Tom used its knife to pry at the panel that had housed its gun. Slowly managed to force the plate out and revealing the contents. It was less of a holster and more akin to a narrow and shallow desk drawer. With small rings holding individual spikes for reloads along with small, AA battery sized cartridges that Tom assumed were used as propellant.
He greedily stuffed the spikes, cartridges, and gun into his bag. The poor zipper straining to close with all the new additions as Tom stood and quickly ran for the main road. He would have to take a look at his prizes later, for now it was time to go.
As he headed back onto the main road he was finally greeted with a text box.
Encounter concluded! Restricted Action System disabled. Victory to the worthy!
Clockwerk Scout
+2 Credits, +25 Base experience
“I really wish there was some kind of guide or tutorial for this thing. I've got so many questions.”
Request for additional information processed! Would you like to read the basic rules regarding the Restricted Action System?
Tom nearly fell over mid step as the new window invaded his vision and he read what it said. Anger bubbling up in his gut as he glared at the box.
“Oh fuck you, honestly. But yes, let me read it.”