Many cycles ago, there was a bland, ordinary planet in the middle of a normal solar system. The gods of the planet, which they like to call Plumos, felt bored. They recently made a new race, humans, but felt that the rate of technological growth was too slow for any proper entertainment. And so, they decided to use what already existed; Earth.
The first few people they took from Earth and placed in Plumos were only slightly successful, due to one minor oversight; Earth didn't have magic. Or skills. Or a system of spiritual elements. Embarrassed by this early failure, many gods overcompensated. The next few people were given powerful magic and skills. However, this time no new technology was made. Only conflict between powerful demi-gods.
Finally, the gods agreed upon a turn system, with a limit to power. Every 300 years, they bring in a random person from Earth. The person can then request 1 unique skill, and can also be turned into a different race. They must introduce at least 1 new technological advancement to Plumos, then can spend the rest of their lives however they want.
A side effect of this arrangement was the introduction of new races. Anything from elves and dwarves, to humanoid animals and something in between. The offspring between 2 different races will be whichever race has lower population. Which meant if someone from earth who chose to become a race that didn't exist before has children, they will always be of the new race.
A secondary, related side effect was inheritance of skills. Normally, skills are not inherited. However, the unique skills gifted by the gods do get passed down genetically. Seeing this as a potential problem, the gods made it so the more widespread a unique skill is, the weaker it becomes. By association, the skill inherited by all members of a non-human race are the weakest of the unique skills, and ended up being called racial skills.
This arrangement proved quite effective in entertaining the gods without causing long-term problems to Plumos. Over time, minor adjustments were made, such as a unique skill with only one owner can be given to someone if the owner dies, and unique skills cannot be disabled except by the owners of the skill.
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My owner was a child when they got sent to Plumos. They were supposed to be sleeping, but got woken up by a loud sound. They dragged me with them to their parents room, where there was a strange smell. It was too dark to see into the room. He called out, but his parents didn't respond.
He took a step in. The carpet was wet for some reason. Another step into the darkness. His foot hit something. He crouched down and picked up a gun. He thought it was strange; his father always kept the gun on the nightstand. Then it was like the floor opened below him, swallowing him fully into darkness.
I didn't get to see the journey. I wasn't even aware until after. When I did gain awareness, we were in the middle of a forest, with only a backpack of supplies. Of course, my owner believed this to be like one of the great stories that he read in the school library. A fantasy land with magic and wondrous beasts. And like all those stories he read, he would be the great hero who solved everyone's problems.
Truth be told, I do not fully remember his adventures. He traveled far, slaying beasts for food and money, slaying bandits to rescue a hostage, braving cold mountainous terrain to deliver supplies. Over time he learned that not everything was as wonderful as he had read. But I was there to comfort him. And so he stayed optimistic.
He defeated the evil elf slaver, the corrupt guard, and an unruly mercenary who believed he was only a child. Then he encountered ghosts, who could not be shot. So he used me as a vessel, to seal away lost spirits. That was the moment I gained sapience. The moment I could truly experience his adventures.
On the way back home from sealing away spirits, we got ambushed. Professionals, using epic tier stealth skills against a kid. Lethal poison on all of their weapons. They were here to kill him.
In the first 7 seconds, he just barely dodged the attacks. In the next 4 seconds, he had several deep wounds. Another moment was all it took for him to collapse, eyes emptying. I felt myself fall. I urged myself to do something. The story couldn't end here. He wasn't done being the hero. There was still so much left.
Maybe the gods took pity. Maybe the spirits within me bent to my will. Maybe I could all along, but simply never tried. Whatever the reason, I moved. I felt my whole body for the first time. Heavy, but resolute. I crawled to my owner's face, and looked into his eyes, hoping I could do anything.
They were already devoid of life. But there was something in the back, still flowing. Something that could still be saved.
Capture loose spirit? Y/N
Loose spirit captured. Seal spirit?
Loose spirit sealed.
I stood up. Resolve fueled my movement.
I stepped towards the gun fading away to dust. Rage fueled my actions.
I reached to the empty air where the gun once was. Desperation fueled desperation.
You have been gifted the unique skill: Gun.
The assassins weren't looking. They knew he was dead already. They knew he would be alone today. There were three of them. Two to the left, one to the right. From my point of view, the two to the left were overlapping each other.
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Ready skills Collect spirit: Capture loose spirits within 5 meters and store them into a vessel. Martyr's seal: Seal all spirits within your body, including your own spirit. This kills your body. Spirit engine: Consume a portion of a spirit within your body. Gain a small boost in stats. Gun: Summons a random gun. Only one gun can be summoned at a time. [more...]
Activated skill Gun. Summoning 'Browning Model 81 BLR'.
A rifle, much too big for a child, never-mind a doll, appears in my fabric hands. My lack of fingers is an immediate problem, but not one to stop me. With mild effort, I direct the barrel to the two assassins. The one now behind me shouts something, but it's too late. I pull the trigger. I get knocked back.
I still had one more assassin to worry about. I tried to get up, but noticed a minor problem. A knife had been stabbed into my chest, pinning me to the ground. The assassin loomed over me, but was looking at their teammates. There was an indescribable look to their eyes, the only part of their face I could see. Their teammates were dead. I could feel the spirits.
Capture loose spirits? Y/N
Loose spirits captured. Seal spirit?
I felt disgusted at the thought of them sharing a space with my owner. I knew exactly what to do with these spirits.
Consuming 2 spirits. Stats increased by 100x for 10 minutes.
My arms moved with new-gained strength, pushing the knife out of my chest. The assassin above me made an assumption and kicked the rifle I summoned away from me. They then took out another knife to pin me down with.
My body felt extremely light. I would not win a direct physical confrontation. Instead, I rolled between their legs. They miss their stabs, as I continue to hop around them, slowly moving away from the kicked rifle. Then I faked going for it. The assassin responded quickly, jumping to the rifle and attempting to kick it away again. It instead turned to dust.
Activated skill Gun. Summoning 'Winchester Model 63'.
Another rifle, this one a visibly older design. Of course, against them, it didn't matter. The rifle felt lighter then the previous, making it much easier to aim. The assassin turned to run away.
The first shot missed, my inexperience tainting my aim. To my surprise, despite appearing older than the previous rifle, a casing flew out without any intervention. I pulled the trigger again, and another shot fired. Then another. Each miss narrowed my aim. Five more shots were fired, one barely missing their head. Then on the eighth shot, I hit a leg. The ninth hit center mass as they were falling.
They lied on the ground, bleeding, twitching. I shot the last bullet into their head. I didn't miss.
Leaving the empty rifle on the ground, I stumbled towards the dead assassin. I realize now that they didn't miss their stabs. Not entirely; I had cuts all over, cotton peaking through. It doesn't hurt me, but it does hamper my movement. The blood didn't help, forcing me to avoid any easy routes in fear of ruining myself.
Capture loose spirits? Y/N
Loose spirits captured. Seal spirit?
Now that everything is calm, I think about what to do from now on. My owner was dead. I can't do anything about that. But I still have their spirit. Maybe that can be used to...
Alternatively, I carry on. I carry on until my body fails me, and I cannot carry on anymore. Nah, that is a depressing future that I do not want. My owner would not want that for me.
What would my owner want? He would want me to take their place. In those stories, if the mentor dies, then the hero takes up their role, or part of it. But my owner was not a hero. Not yet, at least. In that case, I would be one for him. I will be the hero that he never got to be.
But first, these wounds. I need to fix them. My owner should have some thread and needles in his bag. I can only hope that I can repair myself without fingers. I walk over to my owner's bag, now lying sideways on the ground. In the dark I start pulling out the 'repair kit' that he bought just for me.
Spirit engine's stat increase has expired. Returning stats to normal.
My strength leaves my body, making me collapse. My collapse causes the cliff of supplies that I was pulling from to collapse on top of me. Soon, I am buried in supplies, unable to move. Is this where my story ends? So soon after it began?
I stay buried for a day, then two. As I was losing hope on the third day, I felt a rumble. A combined rhythmic rumble with a constant rumble. It got stronger and stronger, until it stopped. I wanted to get a good look, but a piece of dried meat covered my eyes. So instead, I hoped.
Then I felt myself get lifted. Or rather the bag I am in was lifted. This shifted things around, freeing me from the pile. I took this opportunity to climb out of the bag, only to remember that the bag had been lifted. I fell, colliding with the ground with great force. My cotton puffed out, making myself feel ever so empty.
I felt exhausted. My first day of sapience was eventful. I lost my owner, I shot a gun. I fought for my life, and for vengeance. I killed. So please, excuse me when I say that it was an exhausting day.
As my vision faded to my first sleep, I felt something pick me up. Maybe this was good. If they are the same people who picked up the bag, then I'll be close to it when I wake up. I can fix myself then. When I... wake... up...
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"It's so cute! Can I keep it mommy?"
"Well let me fix it up first. It's quite damaged, and I fear it won't survive if you play with it now."
"Fine. Then promise to tell me when it's all fixed!"
"Yes dear. I promise. Now go play with Jason. He's waiting outside."
...
"Hey honey. Are you sure we should let her have it? It's technically a piece of evidence."
"Oh, don't worry about that. A doll would have nothing to do about... that. Maybe if it was enchanted or something, but this doll had absolutely no magic in it."
"Alright. Still, it doesn't sit right with me. What killed all those people?"