Before me stretched a clearing, surrounded by trees so tall that gazing up at their skyscraper-high crowns could give you whiplash. And their bark could easily be sold for the hulls of sea cargo ships, or even dreadnoughts. Nearby, a hill—or what was left of it—loomed. It was picturesquely collapsed, overgrown with roots, as if nature had tried to hide something huge beneath it (but got tired and gave up halfway). In the air, ignoring the laws of aerodynamics (should I, as a "physicist," be offended now?), multicolored lights whirled. If these were fireflies, they were certainly extraterrestrial. Among the grass and dull-red flowers, mushrooms peeked out, arranged in perfectly straight circles that would make any perfectionist smile.
I turned around. Behind me was a wall of the same ancient forest. And zero doors.
"The sky is not purple," I noted, as if my burning desire had been to see an insane color overhead. Instead, it was conventionally bluish, with a slight tint of turquoise. And the star shone quite sun-like.
"But you must admit, that would have been a stupid question," Valtar immediately replied. The sound was clearer than in the corridor, as if he had switched from radio communication to fiber optics.
Taking a deep breath, I coughed. The local air was aggressively fresh. Its purity cut at lungs accustomed to the familiar mix of exhaust fumes, dust, and chemicals. Oxygen poisoning on the first breath. An excellent start.
I sat down on a fallen log. It was profusely covered in moss, soft as a Persian rug, and seemed to be waiting for exactly such a bewildered idiot to sit down and begin re-evaluating his life decisions.
So. Hypothesis A: I have gone insane. I'm lying peacefully in a coma, drooling, and all this is a neurochemical storm in the ruins of my consciousness. What does this give me? Only doubt. And doubt slows down thought and action. In a critical situation, hesitation can cost a life. Conclusion: the hypothesis is elegant but useless. Discard.
Hypothesis B: this is reality. A different, distorted, magical (or so technologically advanced that I, a savage, call it magical), but objective reality. What does this give me? Solid (albeit alien) ground beneath my feet. Conclusion: I must take this reality seriously. Let’s see what I can do.
Therefore, my goals, in descending order of priority:
- Survive (Basic Goal).
- Gather information (Tactical Goal). Magic, aliens, the System—it's interesting, after all. Knowledge itself doesn't do anything, of course. But it helps one act consciously, not randomly. For instance, I need to understand the rules of the game to start breaking them.
- Find a way home (Strategic and possibly Utopian Goal).
"Well, Valtar," I stood up sharply, brushing suspiciously sticky pollen from my pants. "If you were in my situation, what information would you want to know first?"
Clear goals work better than any sedative. They cleared the fog of uncertainty from my mind and left an instruction manual for my existence.
It might seem that I am reacting too calmly to being abducted by interdimensional beings and landing in a fantasy world. This is partly the work of the [Flameborn] trait. And I am writing these very lines under its influence. I feel existential panic trying to rise from the depths of my stomach, but it breaks against the barrier of cold calculation. Emotions reach my consciousness as dry facts, like "Fear is counterproductive." However, this is only part of the truth. I was like this in my old life too. I had seen enough wildness on Earth to firmly internalize: hysteria is a luxury of the dead that the living cannot afford. It turned out this trait reflects my composure, making me even calmer. A homeostatic Ouroboros of rationality.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
"You formulate the request as if you’ve dealt with genies from the Ash Sultanate before," the System snickered. "The primary task is to master the interface. Slightly offended comment: I would have been obliged to instruct you even without your insolent [Anointed] trait.
"Defocus your gaze. Imagine you are looking at a coin and trying to see its reverse side through the face. Don't cross your eyes, Lex! You're training mental focus, not a squint! Look through the world, not at it."
"That's impossible!" I protested, staring blankly into the space before me.
"Black hole... I am submitting an application for a separate scale for Intellect. With decimal points. Whole numbers are clearly too much for the likes of you. I just asked him to do it, and he doubts the possibility of the task. What is even possible to learn like this?"
I tried again. After all, I am a representative of humanity, and I cannot disgrace the species. On the third attempt, the world seemed to shimmer. Translucent lines and icons appeared over the foliage, like a second image in a stereogram. But the moment I released my concentration, the illusion vanished. It took several more tries to catch this strange state of "defocused attention" and get the knack of holding the interface stable.
"Not bad for zero Resonance," Valtar praised condescendingly. "But my expectation wasn't significantly above that number."
The menu opened on the "Status" tab. I was greeted by a schematic depiction of a person in the style of Leonardo da Vinci's Vitruvian Man, if he had been an obsessive occultist. Lines, circles, and spirals radiated from his body, creating an aura of an anatomical atlas of the otherworld. Beneath this bacchanalia, my Manifestation Matrix was modestly located, and below it—three bars:
Health Points (HP): 40/40
Physical Energy (PE): 100/100
Mental Energy (ME): 66/70
Below remained an empty space, possibly for other scales.
I think you won't call me reckless if I assume an obvious correlation: Health Points depend directly on Endurance, Physical Energy on Dexterity, Mental Energy on Intellect. At the very bottom were gray status plaques: [Hormonal Sealing of Emotions (75%)] and [Vulnerability to Fire (+25%)]—my "gifts" from [Flameborn].
I swiped to the "Profile" section. Here lived my new name, title, and my four skill trees and traits, with ample space for new ones. I poked at [Acrobat] and understood why they were called trees. A complex diagram unfolded before me, resembling either a DNA molecule or the Kabbalistic Tree of Life—node-circles connected by thin line-paths. The root node shone brightest and was called [Energizer]: Instantly increases your movement speed by 50% and jump strength by 100% for 10 seconds. Don't break your neck. PE cost: 30.
I checked my other starting spells. [Kinetic Wave]: Focuses and releases pure kinetic energy in the form of a shockwave. ME cost: 25. [Blink]: You disappear from reality for 1 second because local space momentarily forgets your existence. ME cost: 10. The [Human] tree was much more modest in circles and connections (it could even be called a bonsai). [Analyze]: Just by looking at the things, you can tell what kind of doohickey this is. ME cost: 1.
"As a supposedly sensible human, you receive the racial skill [Analyze]," Valtar announced officially. "Use it sensibly."
In the ensuing silence, I realized one chilling detail: I heard no birdsong, no buzzing insects, no rustle of small creatures in the grass. I was the only source of noise in this magnificent yet lifeless cathedral of trees. In a world where my Luck is one, this is not the most reassuring sign. But no need to worry, right? When in Rome, do as the Romans do...
"Of course, the effect is less comical now," Valtar justified himself. "I prepared that line specifically for its acquisition."
"A stunning display of wit," I paid the System back in a cold voice. "Now tell me how to use spells (I never thought I'd seriously put those words together in a sentence, but I'll say weirder things later)."
"Bind them to a somatic component. I recommend your fingertips. Activate spells with gestures that I advise you to train until they are automatic. That way, there’s less chance of a magical accident while picking your nose. That happens more often than I'd like. And it's quite funny."
I looked at my fingers. Yes, they had acquired new responsibilities...