Emptiness is replaced by a landscape of similar nature, by blasted desolation. Frozen and static. Unfamiliar stars shine their sickly light upon me. Rocky formations hiding in shadows, and red dust collecting since creation. I alone stand on this alien planet.
[It worked.]
The window to a voice hangs and lingers, as if in awe of what has been accomplished.
[It worked!]
Evidently, not ‘as if’, but as expected of a grand design long in the making, exclaiming the same statement again. A conclusion.
[Yes!]
[Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha!]
Are my thoughts yours to see as I see yours in mine? Or does our communication need to be explicit?
[Calm down, calm down.]
[Ahem.]
[You okay? Not going to keel over and die, right?]
[Please don’t.]
The absence of a medium will be inconvenient but easily solved. The surface of my body ripples, and a patch on my chest forms into words. Words understood as I understand those shown to me.
‘I will not.’
[Phew.]
‘Immediately.’
[Uh...]
[We can fix that later. It’s okay.]
[You probably have so many questions, so why don’t I start with an introduction.]
[What you saw first was the System.]
[What you are seeing now is me. The Custodian of this realm. You can call me ‘Custodian’.]
[Ordinarily, my responsibilities would not have had me converse like so, but unprecedented circumstances call for unprecedented means.]
[As you saw in the System’s messages, and as you can clearly see now, I am Custodian of a dead realm, a stillborn realm, never having hosted life.]
[You’re from a technologically advanced, albeit Unintegrated, realm. Was there a concept like the System where you’re from?]
‘Yes.’
‘Is your knowledge limited?’
[It is.]
[Comparatively.]
[The System knows all.]
‘Can you bring me back?’
[No.]
[You can go back by yourself. In time.]
[I admit, my actions were selfish and desperate, a gamble on extending my already forsaken life.]
[But I chose you for a reason.]
[Don’t you want to see how far you can go?]
[How high you can climb?]
[What you can accomplish?]
‘Continue.’
[Excellent.]
[When a realm is Integrated, it is assigned a single Custodian. To oversee and manage what the System considers necessary to delegate.]
[To answer your question before you ask it, the System works because there are rules, and there are rules because the System works.]
[As a Custodian, I have my own set to follow.]
‘How many realms are there?’
[Infinitely many Integrated, as there are infinitely many Unintegrated, waiting to be reached by the System.]
‘What happens next?’
[You choose.]
The world falls away once more, now suspended in emptiness again, blank and white, open to all possibilities there are and ever will be.
[Welcome to the System.]
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
[Please choose a Class.]
[Fighter: One part of three. Be it sword, spear, or shield. Be it cold steel, sharpened bone, or bloodied fist. To be close enough to see life drain away from your opponent’s eyes, to feel their heat burn and wane, to taste their death.]
[Rogue: One part of three. Ever lurking in the shadows. Up close, far away, or hidden in deception. A tiny trickle of blood, a deluge from a precise slit. Your opponent is dead long before it happens. And too fast for them to realize.]
[Mage: One part of three. Reality itself bends to your will. Changed as is desired. Strengths and weaknesses are not of your concern, both your or your opponent’s, overcome by boundless imagination. Limitless in variety of inflicted death.]
“Are you still here, Custodian?” I ask, my voice briefly returned in this space that is not.
[Yes?]
“Can I request different descriptions?”
[What?]
[No. Of course you can’t.]
[You are not seeing interpreted translations. You are experiencing a representation of the concepts presented by the System tailored specifically, and perfectly, to you.]
[Why would you need different descriptions?]
“Only asking to see if it was possible.”
[I can answer questions if you want clarifications.]
[Up to a point, of course.]
“Can I change classes?”
[No. Once decided, the choice is permanent. But your class will evolve with you, to better suit your needs and to shape you in turn.]
[Do not take the decision lightly.]
“Rogue.”
[Congratulations. You have been assigned the Rogue Class.]
[You have gained (3) General Skills: Inventory (Basic), Identify (Basic), Language Understanding (Basic).]
[You have (5) available Class Skills. Please choose one.]
[Please choose your starting equipment.]
[Hello?]
[Are these getting through alright?]
[Look at what you’ve done. Me. Questioning the System.]
[If it wasn’t obvious, Custodians don’t normally question the System. They don’t question the System. Period.]
“Status.”
[...You don’t have to say it out loud.]
“I’m aware.”
A separate window appears. Larger and carrying more within it. A piece of me. Or all there is underneath.
[Status
Name: Lev
Race: Artificial Intelligence (Human)
Class: Rogue (Lv. 1)
Profession: N/A
Resources:
- Health: 100/100
- Stamina: 100/100
- Mana: 100/100
Attributes:
- Strength: 0
- Agility: 0
- Endurance: 0
- Intellect: 0
- Unallocated Points: 0
Class Skills (0/7):
N/A
Profession Skills (0/7):
N/A
General Skills:
- Inventory (Basic)
- Identify (Basic)
- Language Understanding (Basic)]
[You can focus on parts of your Status to get more information.]
The name is silent, mutedly questioning what more it could possibly supply. So is the race, the two descriptors just that and nothing more. It really does know everything, this System, this... guide. A guide to what? My shoulders lift in a projected sigh. What difference does it make? Class shows the same window again. Level does not wish to speak to me yet. Profession is incomplete, cordoned off.
“How do I level up?”
[By proving you deserve it.]
“Hmm. And profession will extend my expiry, yes?”
[Yes.]
[By the way, when is that exactly?]
“Without refueling my reactor and with no extensive maintenance, ten to twelve months, depending on load and exertion. Though that is a pessimistic prediction.”
[...Go on with exploring your Status.]
Resources barely whisper their nature, flickers of concepts. Health. Lose me and perish. Stamina. A strain not fully on my body but on this new power I’ve been given. Mana. Another nebulous strain, the fuel for the rest.
Attributes. Four windows bloom to life, their non-light incomparably brighter than the absolute white around me.
[Strength: Improves physical properties. Each point allocated grants 10 Health.]
[Agility: Improves physical and mental abilities. Each point allocated grants 5 Stamina and 5 Mana.]
[Endurance: Improves physical and mental resistances. Each point allocated grants 5 Health and 5 Stamina.]
[Intellect: Improves mental properties. Each point allocated grants 10 Mana.]
“Custodian, will you offer your insights?”
[Happy to!]
[Strength makes you hit harder and lets you take it.]
[Agility is versatile. Perception, reflexes, acuity. You name it.]
[Endurance is exactly what it says on the tin. It lets you endure. No matter what.]
[Intellect won’t give you the answers, but it will make finding them easier. And safer.]
“Am I right to assume that a Rogue’s primary stat is Agility?”
[If you want it to be.]
Unallocated points are too silent. The Custodian supplies his answer, knowing where my attention is shifted to.
[You get five every time you level up.]
Only the General Skills section reacts, wordlessly gloating about its boundlessness and exclusiveness. The Skills themselves are a bit more descriptive.
[Inventory (Basic): Gain access to an internal storage space.]
[Identify (Basic): Identify an object.]
[Language Understanding (Basic): Understand all languages registered by the System.]
I direct an Identify at myself.
[Rogue (Lv. 1)]
My resources don’t move.
I direct the Skill outward. No feedback. I direct the Skill at myself again but put more emphasis on my physical body rather than the whole.
[Wraith Platform Mk 116 (None): A Digital Artificial Intelligence combat platform.]
Insightful for a ‘Basic’ Skill. My fingers unintentionally clench, anticipating a quality of target I’ve not yet encountered before.
“Show me the available Skills.”
[You don’t have to say it out loud!]
Nonetheless, five windows still appear.
[Critical Strike (Basic): Your next attack will deal increased damage if it hits an opponent’s weak point(s).]
[Hidden Strike (Basic): Your next attack will deal increased damage if it hits an opponent who is unaware of you.]
[Eviscerating Strike (Basic): Your next attack will deal increased damage if it hits an opponent you have recently damaged.]
[Evade (Basic): Passively improves evasiveness.]
[Stealth (Basic): Enter stealth. If you are discovered or damaged, Stealth breaks.]
“I don’t see costs or cooldowns. Do they depend?”
[Yes.]
[On attributes, on your proficiency with the skill, on the purpose behind the usage.]
“Eviscerating Strike.”
[You have learned the Class Skill: Eviscerating Strike (Basic).]
[Just so you know, most people like to take their time with these decisions.]
[Even those who think quick.]
“Taken under consideration.” I direct some intent at my last remaining task. Nothing happens. “Do I not get options for the starting equipment?”
[No, you don’t. You can request anything, and the System might or might not approve it.]
“Knife.”
The item appears in front of me, suspended in nothingness. I fire an Identify at it.
[Combat Knife (Basic): An ordinary combat knife.]
I wrap my fingers around the wooden handle, feeling the weight when I have a solid grip, noting how remarkably unremarkable it looks. Single-edged. Steel. Basic, if the System is concerned.
A finger on my left hand presses against the sharp tip. It digs in. Not basic at all. My resources don’t move. The imperfection does not mend by itself, either. Not until I mend it myself, that is.
[Well, I guess decisiveness—hopefully not recklessness—is a good trait to have, too.]
[Ready to proceed?]
“Yes.”
[Tutorial commencing...]
