Thoughts raced through his head as Morgan looked out with his hands still outstretched, unsure what to do. Why had he thrown his only weapon? What was he going to do? What the hell were these things?
George lay about 10 feet down the ramp of the loading dock. Everyone else was in the loading dock area near the door to the ramp. They appeared to still be looking at the message from the system. Morgan was at the very edge of the dock staring with horror at the mob of creatures.
Slowly, his arms drooped to his sides; he had nothing else to use against them. Luckily, even with their spears, they couldn't reach from the pavement up into the loading dock. However, George was exposed and barely able to move. He had begun trying to push himself backwards with his arms up the ramp. He screamed for help, but he quickly received a dozen stabs from spears and swords. The scream changed to pain and horror.
Startled into action, the loading dock workers and Frank swung the heavy crowbars, smashing the creatures when they managed to hit. The small creatures were nimble and moved deceptively quickly. One had made it over the edge of the loading dock and was beside Morgan without him even seeing how it got there. It stabbed him in the left shin with a spear, the tip bit into the side of his leg just a little before hitting the bone.
With a shout, Morgan punted it off the loading dock onto the pavement below. It rolled, then jumped up, pulled a dagger from somewhere, and joined the throng trying to push up the ramp. The spear was still stuck in his shin, wobbling back and forth. With a grunt of pain, Morgan pulled the spear out. It was about 2 and a half feet long with a sharp metal point on the last 4 inches. Holding it like a sword, Morgan ran to the door of the loading ramp, his leg burning with each step, blood running down his leg and staining his cut khakis.
He fell in beside the workers, desperately trying to hit the creatures with their heavy bars. Frank ran forward, shoving the creatures back with a trash can lid. He made it to George, with a grunting shove of the trashcan lid, he pushed the creatures off. He grabbed George’s collar, hauling him back to the line of workers, leaving a heavy, ominous red trail behind.
A creature made his way past the workers swinging crowbars and grabbed a hold of George’s good leg and began stabbing it a few times in a jackhammer motion with a tiny dagger. Morgan lunged forward and stabbed the creature in the neck, breaking the thin, short spear in half. It fell back, gushing warm, black, sticky blood all over Morgan’s hands and George’s legs.
Morgan stumbled backwards, gagging, trying to wipe the blood off. All but one of the creatures were unmoving; the last one was attempting to crawl away without the use of its legs. One of the workers walked forward and slammed his bar into its back.
Everyone was panting and leaning over on their knees. The bars were heavy, and they had been swinging them hard for a minute straight. Frank was kneeling over George, his hand on his neck, face set in a deep scowl.
“He’s already gone,” Frank said quietly as he reached up with his giant calloused hand and slowly closed George’s eyes and mouth. He made the sign of the cross with his right hand before gently tucking George’s arms in close to his body. Morgan sat down on the floor, trying to look at his leg. The cut was only a slit in his skin about an inch wide, but it hurt like crazy whenever he tried to move it. The blood on his leg and black gore all over his hands made him start to hyperventilate, shake violently, and rock himself back and forth.
“Get something to cover the body, respectfully. We will prolly need to bury him in this field here,” Frank said, taking charge, as he stood up, pointing to one of the other workers. He motioned to the other workers, “Look at those… gremlin things, and see if they have anything we can use.” With a glance at Morgan, he came close, kneeling, and placing a hand on his trembling shoulder.
“Lad, you are okay. You did great. We are out of the thick of it.” He grabbed a large gauze pad from the bag and wiped away at Morgan’s hands and arms to get the offending material off. A few wipes with the sterilizing wipes removed most of the grime. By then, Morgan had stopped rocking back and forth and was just breathing in deep, jagged breaths.
“I can’t do this,” he said under his breath.
“Take it easy. You do this. This old man is gonna need your help.”
“Yeah right, Frank. We just need you to go out there swinging two crowbars.”
“Strength isn't everything, lad. My old bones and muscles ain’t what they used to be. If you are up to it, might want to go grab that axe before we get any more surprises.”
Frank stood and held out his hand. Morgan clasped it and let Frank pull him to his feet. Frank patted him on the shoulder and then went back to the group of workers.
Morgan, wincing with each step, walked out to the first creature that came through the portal. When he bent down to pull his axe out, he was surprised to see that the axe head was cracked and busted. The metal appeared brittle and crumbled away as Morgan pulled on the handle. He was left holding a less impressive-looking, but still hefty, axe handle.
He walked back to Frank with the handle held out in front of him. Frank looked at the handle, then shrugged. With a wave at the loading dock said, “If this is as bad as I fear, this is happening all over the place. We should head into town and see if there is anyone that needs help.”
The thought of walking through the night with who knows how many of those creatures out there between them and the town below in the valley made Morgan’s skin crawl. Any argument Morgan was about to voice died on his lips as a stuttering chime rang over and over in his ears, and a barrage of blue boxes filled his vision.
As the barrage of blue boxes exploded in his vision and blocked a large portion of his sight. He read the first.
If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
::Congratulations! You have killed the very first invader to set foot on your planet. Title Granted, additional level received. Additional Skill awarded”::
The windows went on and on, filling his entire vision. Without really reading any of the other messages, he quickly cycled through them. It was annoying and staggering. He had received a few dozen messages congratulating him. With a thought, all the boxes disappeared, but one remained in the center that he couldn't move or minimize.
::Random skills are ready for selection. No other actions can be taken until complete.::
It was blinking, and there was a small box that said commence. With another thought, the box was selected, and a short drum roll sounded, and two boxes appeared.
::Skill Granted - Unique - Devil’s Own Luck - A slightly singed four-leaf clover just for You!::
::Skill Granted - Unique - SOPHIA - Strategic Optical Predictive HUD Interface Assistant::
Another box appeared.
::Congratulations! You are the first person on your planet to have two unique feats. Additional skill granted.::
Morgan felt like his brain was pulsing and trying to explode from his eye sockets. The pressure was so intense that his whole body went rigid, and his eyes rolled up into his head. Then, a split second later, his body was on fire. Every muscle fiber felt like it was twitching as hard as it could; he practically vibrated in place. His skin was burning like someone had dipped him in boiling water.
Before he could wrest control of his spasming diaphragm to scream, it was over. He felt sore and exhausted, like he had just finished sprinting. Stinking sweat covered him and had soaked through his clothes. His eyes felt gritty and had goo in the corners of them.
He pulled the bottom of his shirt and used it to wipe his face and clean around his eyes. Then he noticed the extra icons and a small glowing exclamation mark in his vision. It was a softer blue than the normal messages he had received. He could also see, at the top left, yellow and blue bars labeled stamina and power. In a large line at the bottom of his vision was a box with the words about him leveling up and his percentage of experience (XP) he needed to reach the next level.
He thought about that box being smaller, and it moved slightly, getting smaller around the edges. Even smaller and down in the left, he thought, until the box moved to the far bottom left and was about a tenth of the size of the screen. There was a small options button in the corner, and thinking about the options opened a new window. The number of items was staggering. As he scrolled through the seemingly endless list, he caught sight of options for transparency, hue, saturation, and location. There were template options and default preferences for new windows.
Scrolling back to the top, he saw the option for SOPHIA with a small blinking exclamation mark next to it, so he selected it. The whole HUD stuttered for a second, and then the quiet, friendly voice of a young woman was in his ear as though she was beside him.
“Congratulations! You have unlocked the advanced HUD and its prototype options by using SOPHIA: Strategic Optical Predictive HUD Interface Assistant. I will provide you with updates on your status and general tips for how to progress. I am also here to answer any questions you may have. Would you like to enable audio, text, or adaptive notifications at this time?”
“What are adaptive notifications?” he thought.
“When the environment is too loud, or you are affected by status ailments that prevent you from receiving notifications from your preferred method, an alternate method will be used.”
“Adaptive then, I guess.” He was surprised she could read his thoughts. It felt wrong somehow.
“And the default method you would prefer?”
“Voice, or uhh… audio notifications. Oh my god, can she read my mind?”
“I can discern your intent from your thoughts. I am not ‘reading your mind’ per se, I cannot dig into your subconscious, but I am able to interact with your thoughts that you project. The distinction is minute, but the implications are immense.” Morgan frowned, unconvinced. “I have been strictly programmed to ignore your thoughts not directly related to my functions. You can think about me, ask a question, or what you would like your HUD to do, and if possible, I will make those adjustments. I also function interdependently as a tutorial and database to help you familiarize yourself with, and survive, the challenges you will face.”
He had thought, “Why don’t our electronics work?”
“I assume you mean your technologies that are now inoperable. The return to benchmark properties of some of your core elements, metals, and compounds is most likely to blame. The changing of isotopes or breaking of some covalent bonds may weaken some alloys or compounds, and they need to be reset, or they may not form at all. I can offer specific insights as you request.”
“Is this like… all over the world?”
“Your world has been discovered and selected for assessment. This is a global event.”
“Anything I should know? Like any tips?”
“It is important that you get stronger and level up to earn skill and ability points. You can also improve skills and abilities through training and practice. As mentioned, the phases get progressively more difficult, stronger, and more numerous rifts will open near populated areas.”
Morgan noticed a small, round symbol in the very bottom left of his vision with a number 18 in it.
“What is that small symbol in the corner?”
“That indicates your common system tokens. They can be used in the system shop to purchase items and equipment.”
“How do I access the shop?”
“Shops can be accessed at established town and higher settlements. I can also interface with the shop when you access it.”
“Okay, how do I get these tokens?”
“Killing an invader will give you two tokens, or being within 50 feet of someone who kills one will give you a token of the creature’s rarity. Closing a rift will also give tokens based on the difficulty of the rift, with a small chance for a rarity increase of the tokens.”
“What can I buy?” Morgan thought, rubbing his hand together in anticipation.
“There are a large number of basic supplies and common items for moderate prices. The rarity of the item not only impacts the type of token but also the number required.”
“It will be easier to explain once we see the shop, but you can buy all the items you could need to survive. From food and water, to crafting materials and tools, and most importantly, weapons and armor.”
“Okay,” Morgan agreed, and then decided to ask, “What is this HUD? Does everyone have it?”
“The heads-up display shows you information about your status. Everyone over the age of 10 is able to access the system and therefore has a HUD. I am able to interface directly with the HUD and can change these settings for you; all you need to do is think about what you would like them to do. We can do that now to show you directly. Would you like to select a template for your display windows or configure them individually?”
“You decide what is best and easiest for me to understand. I don’t want these annoying windows blocking my vision or popping up in front of me when I am trying to do something. I will let you know if I would like something different.”
“Very well.” She said, a sense of satisfaction tinged the words.
A small blue semi-transparent window replaced the boxes from before with his bars and XP requirements.
“I have taken the liberty to minimize the size and location of the resource bars to limit the distractions. If you would like to change that or any other settings, please let me know. You also have seven skills and six ability points available. Would you like assistance with those at this time?”
“Can we do it later? I don’t want to be standing here drooling on myself in front of all these guys.”
“Absolutely, now that you have the skill and ability points, I can help you allocate them at your convenience.”
