ALL NOVEL Chapter 1: Chapter 1
OK — first thing's first. If someone were to read this and expect it to be about some righteous, pure-hearted hero, then stop reading right now, because I'm none of those things. I'm not what most people would call a good person, but then again, I'm not nearly as bad as some of the people I hung around with. The point I'm trying to make is that I'm somewhere in-between; too bad to be considered good, but too good to be considered totally bad. I was bang in the middle, not belonging to either.
It wasn't my fault, well, it wasn't all my fault. When I was younger, I used to scream at the universe and blame it for how shitty my life was, but now I'm 18 years-old, and what comes hand-in-hand with age is maturity, whether we want it or not. I realise now that I made a lot of stupid choices growing up — granted, there were a lot of things that were out of my control — but I tended to always make it worse by saying the wrong stuff, or doing the wrong thing. Even if I tried to do otherwise, I always messed it up. Makes sense, yeah? No?
OK, I guess I'll start from the beginning.
My name's Zephyr — just Zephyr; my last name doesn't matter, besides, it's not nearly as interesting as my first one. My mother was the one who named me, she loved all that Greek stuff — stories about gods and monsters — or at least that's what I've been told. See, she died not long after giving birth to me. I never got to know her, to see her smiling as she read me bedtime stories about her favourite heroes. This was stolen from me, and at the same time, so was my chance at having a good, normal life.
My father — big, fat, and bald as he was in recent years — hated me ever since that day. He blames me for what happened to my mother — to his wife — like I'd meant to kill her. It was ridiculous. I didn't ask to be born, but my dad wasn't known for his logic. He loved my mum with his everything, they'd been together since they were children, and losing her broke him beyond repair. I guess whenever he looked at me, it reminded him of how she died, and how she was stolen from him in much the same way she'd been stolen from me. Despite this, my father was a dutiful man. He didn't put me up for adoption, or hand me off to a relative; he raised me on his own, but if his efforts were to be examined, like in a test or something, the results would be the barest of a passing grade.
I didn't grow up abused, none of the physical stuff anyway. My dad preferred to pretend that I didn't exist, hardly ever talking to me, never glancing my way as I came home from school, or asking about homework and such. He would leave out extra food that I could go and get, but he'd never eat with me. Even when he turned to alcohol he never hit me, that is unless I did something really stupid, but never more than any normal parent would.
I blame my father's neglect a lot for what I became; it really affected me when I was younger, but at some point I started using it as an excuse to do anything I wanted, taking no accountability for my actions. I was just a neglected little boy, it wasn't my fault I decided to cause all that trouble — yeah, that sort of thing.
Making friends was a struggle because I was always afraid that they'd learn what my life was like. I was embarrassed, hearing other kids speak about going to each other's houses and having sleepovers. I dreaded what might have happened if someone found out what my home life was like; a drunkard dad in a filthy house, and that I owned no toys or anything of the like that a kid was expected to have. One of my worst nightmares was of this knowledge being spread around and everyone whispering about me, laughing at me.
That's the main reason I fell in with the bad crowd, I think. I discovered early on that none of them cared what anyone did, they didn't really consider each other friends at all; they just hung around together, and did the same bad stuff in the same place. Strength in numbers, that sort of thing. I could hang around them without being pressured to show more of myself and my life. Of course, to fit in I started doing the same delinquent stuff that they were doing; smashing windows, spraying graffiti on walls, stealing from stores. I always felt bad, doing only the barest minimum and regretting it immediately afterwards, but back then, I had it in my head that I was being forced to do it. That was a lie. It was all my choice; I could've — should've said no.
Throughout school, I never put in the effort despite my teachers telling me that I had great potential. I think some of them could see that I wasn't exactly the same as the other troublemakers and tried to bring me back to the normal side of society. I liked those teachers the most; they didn't look at me and instantly think I was a waste of space, but I'd always end up disappointing them. I never studied, I didn't turn up for tests, and most of the time I didn't even turn up for school. They desperately tried to help me, but all they could really do was inform my dad of what I was doing and hope that he'd assist them; a two pronged style of attack from school and home. What they didn't account for was my dad's utter apathy towards anything that was to do with me.
Any report cards sent home, or phone calls about my behaviour amounted to nothing. Whenever my dad was asked to come into school for a meeting, he would go and listen to what the teachers had to say, nodding when necessary, but as soon as we got home, he'd act as if the meeting never happened.
"It's your life," he explained to me one time. "Fuck it up if you want to. It's got nothing to do with me."
My eighteenth birthday came around and I really thought he was going to kick me out onto the streets. God knows what I would've done then. It was surprising when instead, my dad called me into the living room and told me that I had to start paying rent if I wanted to stay. That was the longest conversation I could remember having with my dad. This was also one of the kindest things he'd ever done for me, not washing his hands of me at the first opportunity, despite everything I'd done.
So, I got a job at the local cinema to pay my rent, serving popcorn and drinks to normal people my age who were there to spend time with their friends, or go on dates. I should've felt bitter, seeing what my life could've been, but by that point depression had set in. I knew it was mostly my own decisions that had put me there, and I'd started to blame no one else but myself, not even my dad. The feeling of being trapped inside a life I hated had become a constant companion, like a demon on my back, whispering into my ear its judgements of every decision I ever made.
Days began to drag. School was hopeless, I didn't understand anything, and the teachers had long since given up on me, choosing to spend their time helping people that actually listened to them. My so-called friends didn't notice when I started distancing myself from them, no texts or calls asking if I was alright when I blew them off for the hundredth time. It was a harsh reminder that they'd never really been friends to begin with.
That's where I was now, walking home after refusing yet again to accompany my 'friends' as they went to cause trouble at the local park, as they did most days. I dragged my feet along the pavement, staring at the ground as I made my way home. My head was killing me; school had been harder than usual that day; tests were approaching and the teachers were doing their best to cram knowledge into everyone's minds. I actually tried in maths for once, believe it or not, but I couldn't understand the simplest equations according to Mr. Sherwood, or at least that's what he'd shouted at me when he took me aside. The day got progressively worse from there.
It was by chance that I happened to be walking past the staff office during lunch when I heard some of my teachers talking inside. The door was slightly ajar, so I was able to easily understand what they were saying.
"Most of mine are ready for their tests. What about you, Joe?"
That was Mrs. Emmons — she taught History. I didn't have her as a teacher, but she'd yelled at me enough for me to remember her name. They must've been talking about their students.
"I'm optimistic," replied Joe, whose voice I recognised as my English teacher, Mr. Clayton. It was always strange to learn teacher's first names, remembering that they even had them. Mr. Clayton continued with a heavy sigh. "Well, for most of them, anyway."
"Having trouble with the usual bunch?" asked Mrs. Emmons.
"As always. It's infuriating when the rest of the class are trying so hard to listen and learn, but I have to spend most of my time trying to stop just a small few from ruining it for everyone."
I had the impression that Mr. Clayton might've been nursing a headache almost as bad as my own.
"It's only a few more weeks, then they'll be someone else's problem," Mrs. Emmons tried to reassure.
"I know … I know…" said Mr. Clayton with another sigh. This one sounding more defeated. "But don't you feel like we've failed them? Or at least some of them?"
"Thinking of Zephyr by chance?"
My heart stopped for a moment. I always got that uncomfortable feeling — like pins and needles down my back — whenever I heard someone speaking about me, whether they knew I was listening or not.
Mr. Clayton let out a short laugh. "How'd you know?"
"You've spoken about him enough, and you're not the only one. Paul had another rant during first break. I felt sorry for his next class with how frustrated he was."
"I'll have a talk with him later, but yeah, I'm thinking of Zephyr. It's just … he had so much potential! But he was so eager to waste it. I wish he'd have listened to our attempts to help him… I think he does too. There's been a change in him. You can see it in his eyes. I think he's realised just how hard life's going to be, and that he's seriously messed up…"
That's all I heard before I left, almost at a running pace. I couldn't stand there anymore and listen to them give voice to all the thoughts inside my head. It made them too real — too hard to ignore. When the final bell rang, all I wanted to do was go home and be alone.
As I turned left down another street, I wondered if my dad would be home, sitting in his armchair, watching baseball with a beer in his hand as he always was. Would he say anything when I got home? Would he notice how shit of a day I've had and act like an actual parent for once? I doubted it; he hadn't at any point during these last 18 years, so why would he suddenly start now. I couldn't help but wonder how different everything could have been if my mother hadn't died.
This wasn't the first time I'd had that thought, imagining the perfect life that I might've had. But I'd been doing it so much more often lately. I guess it stemmed from wondering if that life would've felt worth living, whilst the one I was stuck with felt like a complete waste. In a couple weeks time, everyone in my classmates would be going out into the world, whilst I'd be stuck here, doing the same old things with no purpose.
That's what it came down to, I think — purpose. If only I knew what purpose my life had, then maybe all the shitty stuff I've gone through might seem worth it in the end.
That was the moment I looked up and noticed a woman and her young son waiting at the bus stop ahead of me. It was the woman's voice that drew my attention; she was enthralled on a phone call, getting quite animated about whatever she was talking about. I didn't want to deal with anyone, even if it was just walking past them. I debated crossing the street when the kid dropped a ball I hadn't seen he was holding.
The ball rolled out of his reach and into the road. The woman didn't notice as her son went after it. I almost called out, but my throat was dry, voice dead from how little use it had gotten recently. Then I heard the blaring of a car horn. A big, white box truck was speeding towards the kid; the driver wouldn't be able to stop in time.
I'm not entirely sure what happened next.
All I knew was that I went from standing on the pavement to suddenly being in the middle of the road, hands stretched out in front of me. I pushed the kid out of the way, and just in time, because less than a second later pain erupted out of every part of my body. The truck hit me and sent me soaring down the street, where I landed hard and rolled for metres more before finally coming to a stop.
Everywhere hurt, I couldn't move a single muscle. My breathing was broken, I struggled to get the smallest amount of air into my lungs — lungs that felt like they were filling with thick, gloppy liquid. I coughed, blood spewed from my mouth, telling me what this liquid was.
Through the pain I heard someone screaming, and another person shouting. Something about an ambulance, I think — it was hard to tell. Then I heard a kid crying, and figured it was the boy. Good, I thought; at least he was alright. Knowing that seemed to numb some of the pain, bringing a feeling to me that I'd never felt before; a feeling of accomplishing something meaningful.
The world started to grow darker, like night had descended early. I didn't know how long it had been since the truck hit me; it felt like hours. I could still faintly hear the crying, and the sound of distant sirens joined it, but they were so very distant. They weren't going to make it in time, and even they did, they wouldn't have been able to help me.
I knew I was going to die, but that was alright. Maybe this had been the purpose of my life; to get to this moment and save that boy, who would then grow up to be someone much better than me. If that was the purpose of my shitty life, then so be it. I could die happy knowing that I amounted to something in the end.
The sirens were now very close, but it was too late. I felt the last breath of air leave my lungs, and then everything faded away, leaving an all-consuming darkness.
It was quite comforting, floating in a void of nothing. I wondered if this was what death was like, and if I'd be here forever. I wouldn't mind; it was peaceful.
But then it felt like I was being moved. I had no idea what was happening, but it was like something had picked me up. A bright light came into existence and I could see again, but what I saw was both amazing and horrifying. Towering above me as if I were an ant was a giant face, attached to an equally ginormous body. I couldn't tell whether it was human — of course, it wasn't — look at this thing! It was made up of the darkness itself, with stars dotted all over its body.
I was in the palm of its hand, being raised up so that this thing could get a closer look at me. It brought me before two giant orbs that had literal universes spinning inside of them. For a minute — an hour — a day — a year?! It could've been eternity whilst that thing examined me, its eyes penetrating the deepest parts of my everything, whilst I could do nothing about it. What was it looking for? What would happen to me if it didn't like what it saw?
Finally, it spoke, but no mouth opened on its face. It's voice echoed endlessly, repeating again and again inside my head.
"You'll do."
I'll do for what? I never got to ask because its eyes started to glow, growing brighter with each passing second until all I could see was white light. I tried to close my eyes, but I couldn't tell whether I succeeded because nothing changed. Then my entire being — body and soul — felt like it was being pulled apart.
—————————
I gasped awake, coughing uncontrollably. Everything was blurry and my heart was pounding in my chest; the rapid beating being the only thing I could hear. But then a different sound broke through, an explosion, and it came from somewhere very close.
What was going on? I remembered being hit by the truck, and then there was that … that … giant thing judging me. What the hell was that? Was is it God? I'd never been religious, so I had no idea if that's what God was supposed to look like. Its words, 'You'll do', rang out inside my mind, and I understood them as much now as I did when they were spoken to me. I'll do for what? As my vision cleared, it turns out I'd do for being buried alive beneath the rubble of a collapsed building.
I froze.
Wait a minute. Alive? Was I alive? I could feel air being sucked inside my lungs, along with smoke and dust. Warm blood pumped around my veins. How was this possible? I died — I remember being killed saving that little boy, but a voice in the back of my mind insisted that I was indeed back in the land of the living. Was I supposed to be happy about that? I wasn't sure. Whilst it seemed great — a miracle — dying would've been better than returning to my dreadful life.
Another explosion shattered my line of thinking. Whatever had caused the building to the collapse was still going on. I needed to find a way out before it came down any further. Placing my hands flat against the floor, I tried to push myself up but I couldn't, I was stuck. It wasn't that my body wouldn't move, I felt surprisingly fine for a dead guy, but I was pinned to the ground by something.
I discovered the cause by looking down. There was a long, broken rod of metal rebar piercing through my stomach. Don't ask me how I hadn't felt it before, in fact, I didn't know how I wasn't feeling it then. It was right there, before my eyes, I even reached out and touched it to make sure it was real. There was another explosion, but I paid it no heed, too distracted by the injury that should've been killing me.
My mind was a whirlwind of shock and panic. As I stared at the metal rod impaling me, and the lack of blood flowing out from the wound, I saw something else that I swear hadn't been there a moment ago. In the very bottom left of my vision was a flashing, blue envelope icon, but as I turned my head towards it, it moved away, staying at the same place in my vision at all times. As if it knew I had noticed it, the envelope moved into the middle of my view, growing in size before opening. My hand phased right through it when I reached to touch it.
The envelope opened to show a white page and a message.
Hello Gamer!
I congratulate you on gaining my attention and interesting me enough to be granted the 116847th version of my System. You have now joined the most elite group of people in the Multiverse.
What this means, well, the choice is yours really. You can choose to live out your second life as a normal boring person, or you can use the System to become more powerful than you could have ever imagined.
Want to take over the world? Do it!
Want to claim every beautiful woman you come across? Why not?
Want to kill yourself? You wouldn't be the first, but that's no fun. Is it?
Anything is possible with one of my Systems, even becoming as powerful as myself. If that day comes, I look forward to properly meeting you, and the battle that shall unfold shortly afterwards. But until then, I'll be watching your journey to see what you make of yourself. I do hope you'll be entertaining.
All the best, The Arkitekt
What? I read the message again, trying to wrap my head around it. A system? A second chance? I'd apparently been chosen by someone — or something, called The Arkitekt? I remembered that giant, universal being from the void, and for some reason, that name fit it perfectly in my mind. But why had it chosen me? I can't say the idea of having a second chance at life wasn't appealing — I'd only wished for it a million times in the past — but I could have done with more than just a vague message. I just died for fucks sake, and now I was fuck knows where. That wasn't even the worst of it, like, what the hell did it mean by System?
Answering my question, a ding went off inside my skull, and a new icon appeared in the bottom left of my vision. It was a blue exclamation mark, and like before, it moved to the middle of my view, replacing the first message completely as a new screen appeared.
[!] Quest Alert [!]
What the Fuck is Happening?!
Complete the System Tutorial:
Access your 'Status' page - Incomplete
Access your 'Quirks' page - Incomplete
Access your 'Skills' page - Incomplete
Access your 'Inventory' - Incomplete
Access your 'Quests' page - Incomplete
Access the 'Store' - Incomplete
[ Reward ]
1000 Player EXP
500 Credits
Starter Kit (x1)
Gacha Token (x1)
This must've been the System. It looked like one of those video game screens I hardly paid attention to when hanging around with one of my so-called friends. Some of them loved wasting their time playing those things. I could never get into video games — found them too boring, but now I wish I had, if only to be able to understand what the hell I needed to do next.
Searching the edges of my vision for more icons, I found nothing, even the exclamation point icon — the quest icon — didn't reappear once the quest message had disappeared. With no idea how to go about completing this quest, I started trying random things.
"Status!" I eventually said out loud, feeling stupid as I did so. A new screen came soundlessly into existence, and it had a ton of information that I tried to make sense of.
[ Status ]
Name - Zephyr Drakos
Age - 18
Race - Human
Condition - Healthy
Level - 1 (0/100 EXP)
Strength - 1
Dexterity - 1
Endurance - 1
Agility - 1
Intelligence - 1
[ Currency ]
Money - 0
Credits - 0
OK, the first bit was obvious, even if it had gotten my name wrong; my last name was definitely not Drakos. Moving on, I'd hardly call myself healthy with a metal rod sticking out of my gut, but honestly, I did feel better than I had in years.
Now, onto the most confusing section. It looked like the stats belonging to a game character, except it was me, and I was apparently weak as fuck. I mean, ones in every stat had to be horrible, but I was level 1, whatever that meant. The stats themselves were pretty self-explanatory, even for an idiot like me, though I'd need to consult a dictionary to make sure 'Dexterity' was what I thought it was. I think it had something to do with my hands? Maybe, my reaction speeds?
At the bottom, past all that, was a currency section, and guess what, I was broke as shit too! I had yet to figure out what 'Credits' were, but I was annoyed that I didn't have any of them.
Left frustrated by my lacking stats, I sped through the remaining pages, and what I found annoyed me even more.
[ Quirks ]
You do not currently have any quirks.
[ Skills ]
You do not currently have any skills.
[ Inventory ]
System Items
You currently have no System Items.
Item Slots
- Empty
- Empty
- Empty
- Empty
- Empty
[ Quests ]
- What the Fuck is Happening?!
For being a tutorial, this stupid thing wasn't telling me how anything worked. It was just showing me how utterly weak and useless I was. Like, seriously?! The Arkitekt couldn't have thrown me a bone? I huffed when that voice in the back of my head told me that the Arkitekt had brought me back to life. I was just saying, if it could do that, then it could've easily given me something. I was already at a distinct disadvantage, having not played any video games in my 18 years of life.
I assumed that quirks were something like powers, like flying or shooting lasers out of my eyes, though why they were named as such was a mystery. As was what made quirks different to skills. I guess I'd find out at some point.
By that point, I wasn't surprised when I opened my inventory and discovered it was empty, but did I really only get to put five things in there at any one time? Hopefully, there was a way to increase the number of slots I had.
The quests page was clearly just somewhere to keep track of my quests. I could select one, like the one I just got, and the quest notice would reappear, showing my current progress towards completing it.
Things finally got exciting when I opened the store. It was split into different sections, and so much of it was foreign; so many words and items which I hadn't a clue of what they meant. There wasn't a section for skills, but I checked out the one for quirks and a massive list appeared. I'd been right, quirks were powers, or abilities, whichever made the most sense. Scrolling the list by saying 'down', it was almost never ending, and my greed was born. I wanted all of them. Well, maybe not all of them. Some quirks were weird; there was one that would just give me the ability to stretch my eyeballs. Yeah, I'd gladly miss out on that one.
The quirks were classed under different rarities, too, and it started with 'Common' being the lowest and the worst, then going through to 'Uncommon', 'Rare', 'Legendary', and lastly 'Exotic'. I couldn't see any of the exotic quirks though; it was just an option to pay one million credits for a random exotic quirk. I could appreciate a good gamble, but I don't think I'd be saying the same thing if I spent one million credits for a rubbish exotic quirk; if such a thing existed.
I finally knew what credits were used for at least; buying things in the store, and I was even more annoyed that I didn't have any! A strength quirk would've been useful for getting myself out from beneath the collapsed building.
As soon as I came out of the store, having been unable to buy anything, there was another ping in my skull.
[!] Quest Completion Alert [!]
What the Fuck is Happening?!
Complete the System Tutorial
Access your 'Status' page - Complete
Access your 'Quirks' page - Complete
Access your 'Skills' page - Complete
Access your 'Inventory' - Complete
Access your 'Quests' page - Complete
Access the 'Store' - Complete
[ Reward ]
1000 Player EXP
500 Credits
Starter Kit (x1)
Gacha Token (x1)
[ Hidden Objectives ]
Complete Main Objective within 1 hour of receiving the Quest - Complete
[ Bonus Rewards ]
Non-Verbal Control of the System
[!] Player Level Up [!]
[!] Player Level Up [!]
[!] Player Level Up [!]
[!] Player Level Up [!]
So, quests also have hidden objectives and rewards. That was nice to know after the fact — so nice — but I wondered if every quest had them or only a few. And whether it was possible to discover them beforehand to make sure I actually completed them. If the bonus rewards were always as good as that, then I didn't want to be missing out. Perhaps there was a quirk for that? In the meantime, thank fuck I didn't have to speak out loud anymore to interact with the System.
The 1000 EXP turned out to be enough to take me all the way to level 5 — which I thought was pretty good for doing basically nothing. This also confirmed that the amount of EXP I would require to level up increases; it had gone from 100 to 200, then 300, and then 400. Now, I needed 500 EXP for the next level, and I meant I needed an entire 500; I didn't have to go from 400 to 500, I had to go all the way from 0 to 500. After that, if the pattern continued, I'm guessing that I'll be needing 600 EXP for the level after that.
What was strange though, was that none of my stats had gone up when I levelled up. What was the point of levelling if I wasn't going to get any benefit from it? Again, like the System was answering me — which it probably was — my inventory opened and my rewards were waiting in there.
[ Inventory ]
System Items
- Common Stat Crystal (x12)
- 2500 Credits
- Starter Kit (x1)
- Gacha Token (x1)
Item Slots
- Empty
- Empty
- Empty
- Empty
- Empty
I had a look at everything, being able to scroll between the items with my thoughts made it much easier — bonus reward for the win! Anyway, when I selected a stat crystal, I got a prompt asking which stat I wanted to use it on, and to test it out I chose strength. My strength stat went from 1 to 2, leaving me with 11 crystals remaining. I briefly wondered where I got them from, since they weren't listed as a reward for the quest, but I realised that they, along with the majority of the credits, must have come from my level ups. Even my abysmal maths skills let me figure out that I got 3 crystals and 500 credits per level up.
Holding off from using the other crystals for the moment, I selected the credits and they disappeared out of my inventory. After panicking, thinking I'd somehow deleted them, I checked my status and saw that they'd been moved to the currency section — crisis averted. That left the Starter Kit and the Gacha Token.
Choosing the token first, I actually got a description with this thing. What a pleasant surprise!
Gacha Token
Gambling? Who doesn't love it? It's fun, as long as it's done in moderation, and the rewards outweigh the risks. This token can be used at any time to award you anything from throughout the Multiverse, whether that be an item or a power. It can literally be anything, including a curse, or an enemy that will try to kill you.
I guess that leaves just one question.
Are you feeling lucky, punk?
No, I did not feel lucky. Carefully deselecting the token, I didn't feel like potentially summoning something that would immediately turn around and kill me. I already had a metal rod trying to do that.
That left the Starter Kit, which I then selected, hoping it wouldn't be nearly as potentially deadly as the Gacha Token. I got a prompt asking if I wanted to open it, and what I received upon doing so went straight into my inventory.
[ Inventory ]
System Items
- Common Stat Crystal (x21)
- Gacha Token (x1)
- 1000 Credits
- Quirk : Language Master [Rare] (MAX LEVEL)
- Quirk : Gamer's Body [Exotic] (MAX LEVEL)
Ten more stat crystals was nice, and I sent the credits to my currency, bringing my total up to 3500. But what stole my attention was the two quirks that I'd been given. Selecting them both, they disappeared and transferred over to my quirks page. Reading their descriptions, they weren't anything spectacular like being able to fly; they were more like powers to help set me up and make things easier.
Language Master was a rare quirk that would let me understand and communicate in any human language, including reading and writing. Useful, but I'm guessing because I was given this, I wasn't in my local neighbourhood anymore.
Gamer's body was the better of the two, or at least it would be in the long run. It was classified exotic in rarity, and it's description basically told me that it would stop my body from exploding with all the power I might get. What it said exactly was 'changes the user's body at a molecular level to accommodate any powers acquired whilst using the System', but then it went on to say something about removing the danger of holding multiple quirks at the same time, and the danger of the quirk singularity, whatever the hell that was. It didn't sound pleasant, so I was relieved that I wouldn't have to worry about it.
And that was everything. I double checked and nothing screamed out at me, except for the Gacha Token which I really had to restrain myself from opening. Later, I told myself, later. Right now, I needed to get out from beneath this building. Whilst thinking about how I was going to do that, the sound of a ticking clock steadily got louder and louder. I looked around, trying to find what was making the noise, but couldn't see anything. That's when I noticed a new icon in my vision. It was a red flashing clock, and either it hadn't been there a moment ago, or I'd missed it because I was too focused flipping through the main System pages.
A bad feeling settled in my metal pierced gut, but I selected the clock icon anyway.
Reincarnation Invulnerability
Time Remaining - 00:2:03
With a yelp, I realised this was why I wasn't dying from the metal rod sticking out of me. But that would change in about two minutes time. In a mad rush, I tried to push myself up again, and off the metal rebar, but I couldn't. The timer ticked down to just over a minute left. Trying again yielded the same result and I was really freaking out now, trying to think of what to do.
I dove back into the System, it being the only resource I had. There was no time to search the store for something to help, and though the Gacha Token was tempting, who's to say it wouldn't make my situation worse — no, that was to be my last resort. Doing the only other thing I could think of, I dumped every single Common Stat Crystals into my Strength Stat. My stats were left horribly unbalanced, but I didn't care.
I used every one of my 23 points in Strength and pushed myself up. It was an uncomfortable sensation, the metal rod grinding against my insides. It was close, but I managed to get off it as the ticking in my head reached its loudest, before it abruptly stopped, and the invulnerability ran out. Sticking my hand under my shirt, I sighed in relief when I felt intact skin, no sign of a wound from where the metal rod penetrated my body. That was a close call. Too close.
What a dick move for the System not to alert me about the invulnerability in the first place. Fuck you, Arkitekt! I got a very, and I mean very, faint sense of amusement through the System, but it faded away as fast as it came.
With the immediate danger of dying taken care of, I took a minute to be angry at the fact I used every single one of my Stat Crystals on Strength. Don't get me wrong, I don't regret it; I needed to survive, but that doesn't mean I'm not allowed to be mad about it.
How strong did that make me now? Perhaps, strong enough to shift some of this rubble and find a way out of this mess. I crawled over to a section that looked the easiest to move and firmly grabbed a large piece of concrete. With a grunt, I moved it aside, and immediately recoiled.
"W-WOAH! WHAT THE FUCK!"
I scrambled backwards, recoiling at the sight before me. Trapped beneath more collapsed building was the body of an old man, blood and guts spilling out everywhere. His head was flattened like a pancake. I'd never considered that other person might've been caught underneath the building, but the scene in front of me was a gruesome way to find out that I wasn't.
A horrible smell wafted up my nose, a mixture of blood and shit, making me turn away and retch. If I'd had anything in my stomach, it would've surely been ejected. With my eyes watering, I tried to put back the rubble I'd moved, hoping it would plug the smell. But now unleashed, the stench wouldn't allow itself to be so easily smothered.
As I was about to try and get out another way, desperate to get away from the example of death a few metres away, everything began to shake. Dust rained from above, the building was coming down further. I didn't think my new strength would help me survive that, not with my measly Endurance Stat. This was the end. My second chance, taken away as fast as it had come. I was beyond angry. Why did the Arkitekt even bother if he was going to put me somewhere I'd immediately die again!
The shaking continued, accompanied by the sounds of breaking and grinding of concrete. A ray of sunlight suddenly beamed into the tight space, hitting me dead in the eyes and blinding me. It got worse when the rubble above me was taken away. A rush of fresh air enveloped me, sending shivers down my spine, but at least it carried away that dreadful smell. I tried to blink my eyes back to normal, willing them to adjust, and although it was blurry, I could make out a giant figure standing above me.
"Everything is fine now, citizen! Do you know why?"
Their voice was loud, but it didn't hurt my ears. It filled me with a foreign warmth, making me feel safe. Bringing up a hand to shield my eyes from the light, my vision cleared at last. What I saw was a giant man made entirely of muscle, dressed in a skin tight red, white, and blue costume, complete with a cape. Tilting my head further up, I saw two horn-like extensions of blonde hair sticking up, and a wide, white-toothed smile.
We locked eyes, and his smile got wider. "BECAUSE I AM HERE!"
And I believed him.
I had no idea who this man was. He could've been the person who caused the building to collapse for all I knew — he sure looked strong enough — but that didn't matter, because as I stared up at that unwavering smile, I would've believed any word he said.