Who shut off the sun?

  A soft, dark void extended in every direction around him. He couldn’t feel TJ anymore, and that unsettled Brom to his core. There’d been no sense of his nephew being removed from his hold, and yet he definitely was gone. Never in his life had Brom been as terrified as he was now, and it wasn't for his sake. What did he care? He'd lived a decent chunk of life and screwed most of it up. Sure, he'd like to live another forty years or so, but TJ was just a kid, he had so much more potential ahead of him. Given a choice, it was a no-brainer to save his nephew, and right now, TJ was missing.

  He had to get him back!

  Welcome, Player Brom Jones! The first step of your new adventure is Class acquisition! There are five basic classes available and six class tiers! In order to make this process stress free, we’ve generated a blind assortment of combinations for you to pick from! Choose.

  The voice came from nowhere and had him snapping his whole body around chasing it, mind beating frantically at the cage of understanding as he tried to figure out what was going on. He understood the words it was telling him, none of them were unfamiliar, but he was too unsettled to comprehend them all together. Without context, he might as well have been listening to a lecture on higher mathematics.

  “Hey, fucker, where's my neph-”

  Fifty motes of light winked into existence ahead of him, glittering and twinkling like motes of starlight. He couldn’t see anything in their glow, their light served only to prove their existence and nothing further. But they distracted him, like jingling keys in front of a baby, soothing some primal part of his brain that craved shiny objects.

  Most were a dull, cool white, as bland as cheap vanilla ice cream on a plastic spoon. A few, seven or so, glittered an antiseptic green like spearmint mouthwash. Two were a crisp, bright blue like that gel toothpaste with the ‘cleaning crystals’ in it.

  In the center of them, though, was a lone beauty. It was better, and it knew it, shining like a prism in full sunlight. It was just begging to be touched in the same fashion as a cat’s soft belly. Which meant he should have known it was a bad idea to touch it. Yet Brom got suckered into running his hands through the soft fur every time because the allure was real and irresistible. This glittering trap now had the same effect on him, drawing his hand to reach out. He couldn’t help it; it was so beautiful... and it dissolved the moment his fingers brushed against it.

  He thought the first snap was caused by the lights winking out. Then the pain hit him. It came in rippling waves of white-hot heat. The sour-tasting electric kind that spoke of the untold cellular suffering that was going to embed itself at a visceral level. As though the kernel layer of his soul would remember this pain as part of its core operating parameters forevermore. And that was just the first bone breaking. The rest of them followed.

  The raw materials of his existence were dismantled and separated. After being properly scrutinized, some parts of him were discarded, and then new things were added. The rebuilding began. Through it all, he screamed. Screamed until he tasted raw iron. Screamed until his voice resonated in the key of copper and salt. But he never lost consciousness. There was no sweet and merciful oblivion that delivered Brom away. Maybe this was the price. The cost of the work and materials that had just gone into rebuilding him.

  The pain vanished as quickly as it had arrived and left him disoriented. Mentally, he was sick and shaking, and he wanted, no, craved the ability to vomit as if it would help. Physically, though, he was never better. Not even a whisper of pain came to him, and he knew, on an equally instinctive layer, nothing would ever hurt him that badly again. His legs were shaking so badly, correction, his everything was shaking so badly, trembling like a newborn fawn. He didn't feel in any way delicate though.

  A hum ran through him, flicking up his spine like a cold finger. It was like someone had turned on an old tube TV, the crisp blip and the electric thrum that followed. In the corner of his vision, he saw it, a small flourish of that prismatic hue from the light spark earlier. A stylized design of some kind of animal with a long line streaking out from its open maw. The more he concentrated, the more it unfurled itself into a long line of light that subtly pulsed, numbers etched in a strong script at the center of it.

  100/100

  Wait... was that a fucking health bar? He brought his hands to his eyes, rubbing them gently with his fists. Even though there was still no light to see by, at least things felt familiar. That tiny scrap of fact was a soothing balm to his overheating brain. When he reopened his eyes, it looked like it had vanished. Somehow, he doubted, considering the current situation, that it was anything as tame as a hallucination. At least it didn’t hurt.

  Congratulations! You’re the first Legendary Barbarian! You’re the first Legendary Class in New North America and the eighth globally! You are granted one bonus passive skill slot.

  He jumped. That was the second time he’d heard the voice of the System, and he didn’t like it any more than the first time. It sounded like if the supermarket self-checkout had become disgusted with him. Even the ‘Congratulations’ was sarcastic rather than celebratory. “Am I supposed to be grateful?” He felt like he’d just been run through a garbage disposal.

  Now that you’ve got a Class, let's walk you through the Menu tutorial. While most find this boring, it is advised that you do not skip this process!

  Sheer annoyance was starting to outweigh his panic. Or maybe the Barbarian class just came with the ability to remain calm in the face of bullshit. “If you know the Tutorial is boring, you should work on fixing that.” He didn't have time to waste on this shit, every second TJ was out of his sight was a second that something horrific could be happening to him. Like Brom's shredding of self from minutes ago, for example.

  The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

  The system voice didn't seem to care very much, though, remaining irritatingly placid as it echoed around him.

  We tried. It didn’t go over well with test groups.

  Brom went slack-jawed for a moment before his brain seemed to snap back. “Wait, you can respond?!”

  The System voice didn't dignify him with a response to that question.

  Menus can be accessed at any time by the Player’s will. Please note that this is not a pause function, the world does not revolve around you! It is recommended that Players only access Menus in safe zones! Now, please open the Skills menu.

  Was that what he'd done earlier when he'd rubbed his eyes? Will the thing away? He took a deep breath to focus, and sure enough, a small black box popped up in his vision with script in that shimmery iridescent silver hue. Now, he didn't just have a health bar, he was rapidly approaching a full HUD.

  [Name: Brom Jones]

  [Basic Info: Male 36]

  [Class: Barbarian (Legendary) Lv.1]

  Skills: Online

  Inventory: Offline

  It was becoming more and more clear that whatever was happening, it was just a fucking game to someone. Irritatingly, it seemed right now he was ass deep in the worst character creator he'd ever seen. He hadn't even been able to pick a new haircut. "What, no stats?"

  Do you really need a numerical breakdown? The only important stat for you is that the number on your HP bar isn’t zero.

  “Excuse me, are you going off script?” Was the tutorial somehow broken, or was the snark standard?

  Please open the Skills menu!

  He held up his hands in the universal gesture of surrender as the infernally cheerful command returned. “Okay, okay. Whatever you say…”

  Skills are the most important part of any class! There are two types, Passive and Active skills! Passive skills-

  "Skip!"

  It is advised that you do not skip the Tutorial-

  "No, it was advised that I do not skip the Menu tutorial. If you're going to tell me about passive and active skills, I'm going to tell you right now I learn by doing, not by being talked at. You could whisper it to me in the dulcet tones of a lover, but it'll be as worthless as throwing a bucket of oil at a steel wall. Info will just slide right off. Make it hands-on." For a long moment, there was complete and total silence and Brom just threw his hands up. "At least add, like, a video to follow along. You can't just keep talking to me in total darkness!"

  Player Brom Jones, I will ask one more time if you are going to skip the Tutorial?

  A shudder ran down his spine. The self-checkout voice had gone from disgusted to... threatening? Like seeing a stockboy on Black Friday that was staring a bit too longingly at their box cutter, that quiet sort of menace. That tight customer service 'you are one step away from something awful' warning tone.

  He swallowed hard, as if his nerves were a physical thing choking him, and his tongue wetted suddenly dry lips. "Can I maybe pick a Skill? Just something, anything, active. I'm losing my mind here in this empty void."

  There was a long, pregnant silence. It felt like the System was watching him in the same manner a kindergarten teacher would watch a particularly squirmy child that had disrupted class. Like it was waiting for him to actually crack under the pressure. Then, abruptly, a spotlight shimmered down, and Brom realized that whoever was behind the System talking to him had some kind of sense of humor. The light shone on a bright pink poster where a tabby kitten clung desperately to a branch.

  HANG IN THERE!

  Is that enough visual stimulation, Player Brom Jones? I have several million more tutorials to get through today.

  He stretched out a hand, touching the poster, and almost wept with joy as his very familiar hand and forearm extended into his line of sight. Indeed, hugging the spotlight revealed the same baggy hoodie, jeans, and sneakers he'd been wearing when TJ had drug him out to stare at the sky. He heaved a sigh of relief and nodded. "Okay, let's start again."

  Passive Skills are innate and work all the time. Active skills work on Activation. As a Barbarian, you don't spend any resources on your Active skills, they work on cooldown. As a Legendary Barbarian, you begin with two Passive Skills and one Active skill. Please view these later at your leisure. As a special bonus for being the First Legendary Barbarian, you were awarded a bonus passive skill slot, meaning you will start with three. Do you understand how lucky you are?

  Without any sort of context for what other classes started with or what the skills were... no. Brom didn't feel particularly lucky. He felt tired. Annoyed. Hungry. He hadn't eaten breakfast after all. What he wouldn't give to be back in his kitchen scrambling those eggs right now. "Yes, very lucky. Do I get to pick that third skill o-"

  Your third skill will be randomly assigned based on your upcoming performance in the next section of the tutorial, which I would love to describe to you, but oh, would you look at that, we're out of time! Can't bore the Viewers after all!

  "Did you just say Viewers?"

  This concludes this section of the Tutorial. Player Brom Jones, we look forward to your upcoming performance!

  He took a step away from the poster. "Hey, answer me about the whole Viewer thing. I didn't agre-" His words weren't cut off so much as they turned into a rather undignified shout, the floor suddenly moving down rapidly and taking him with it.