“Monsoon! Are you alright?” I heard Tanya yell again. “I’m coming in!” she said.

“Hang on!” I said. “Give me a minute to move out of the way,” I said.

I grabbed the key, looked it over but it appeared to be an ordinary iron skeleton key, so put it in my pocket, rolled to the side and said, “OK, you can come in!”

The door opened slowly as I tried to figure out what all of the flashes in the corner of my eye had meant. Both of the girl’s heads turned slowly around the room until they spied me against the wall. The new girl held a tomahawk from the diorama, Tanya held one of the stones from the fire pit.

“What happened? What’s an Acid Slime? Where’d it go?” the questions came super quickly.

“I have no idea what it was,” I said. “I heard something in the bathroom, came in to check it out and the next thing I knew I was in a fight for my life. Can you see my face? Look at my leg?” I showed them my jeans which had a hole burned in them around the ankle, my sock was mostly gone too, along with the top inch of my All-Stars, and most importantly, I had a hole burned into the ball of ankle and a bright red weal around that whole part of my leg where the slime had burned away my pants, socks, and shoe.

“Holy Shit!” said Tanya!

“What the fuck!” I heard the new girl say. Looking at her, I saw over her head, Janet Lee, followed by two question marks. Again the apocalypse hadn’t started yet. But her badge was green. Very cool. So was Tanya’s.

“Hang on,” I said. “While I was fighting, I kept getting these little flashes in the corner of my eye. I need to figure out what was up with that!”

I looked in the bottom right corner of my eye and there was a little symbol floating there, kind of like one of those things that float in the corner of your TV set. It looked kind of like an eye, kind of like the CBS logo. I focused on it and the symbol grew and then morphed into a screen that was titled “Combat Log”.

The first bit I saw was “Critical Hit, Acid Slime – Crushing Damage, 45 damage. Acid Slime killed. It was followed by a bunch of other notifications, Hit, Acid Slime - 2 damage. Hit, Acid Slime - 2 damage, Hit, Acid Slime - 1 damage. This was all written in green.

Back at the beginning of the fight according to the log, it showed, “Critical Hit, Monsoon – Bash, 14 damage." This text was written in red. It did not show how many Hit Points I had left at that point. But judging by the fact that that one hit had taken out over one-quarter of my health, I’d guess that I had about 45 HP.

I quit reading the log and it faded back into the background, morphing back to the Eye symbol. Next to it were two other symbols, the first was a dollar sign, the other was what looked like either a crown or an Adirondack chair, I couldn’t decide.

I focused on the dollar sign and another window opened up, this one entitled, “Loot Log”. Only in place of loot, there was some text,

“Well, this is embarrassing. Actually, we didn’t expect you to win. Who knew rubber gloves could work so well on an acid slime! And, well the slime wasn’t supposed to be there and the loot drop system isn’t online yet, so, well, we’ll just give you a title: Eager Beaver!”

“Oh come ‘on,” I said. “I deserve something more than that. I mean I killed a Level 6 Acid Slime!”

The previous text scrolled down, and was replaced by the single word, “Nope!”

“Tightwads!” I muttered while focusing on the Title in my stats bar.

Eager Beaver: As one of the first, maybe the first to kill an actual monster, frankly we don’t care enough to check, you’ve been granted the title, “Eager Beaver”. This title grants you the following permanent benefits: +2 to all attributes, +10% to all experience gained, +1 attribute point gained per level, +10% to all skill points. In addition it unlocks all skills; the title bearer must still learn how to use or discover them. The title cannot be unequipped.

I felt like yelling for joy, but after my previous statement, I was a little embarrassed. But it didn’t seem to matter, the next words that appeared were, “Yes, you’re welcome!”

“Well, love a duck!” I muttered.

“What’s that?” asked Janet.

“He doesn’t cuss!” answered Tanya. “His dad didn’t and died when he was young, so, well, he doesn’t. That’s why he’s always saying those stupid things.”

“Hey!” I said. “They aren’t stupid!”

Both girls looked at each other, then just shook their heads.

“What did you figure out?” asked Tanya.

“Well, look down in the bottom corner of your eye. You should see three little icons, an eye-like thing, a dollar sign and another one, that’s either a crown or an Adirondack chair. The eye is the combat log, the dollar sign is the loot menu, and the crown is, well, I don’t know. Let me see…”

I focused on it and it expanded into another window that was titled, “Experience Log.” Right now my experience showed up as zero. I started to complain and the experience of zero disappeared and was replaced by the words, “Check back after the Apocalypse starts.”

“It looks like the crown is the Experience Log! This just keeps getting weirder. Our lives have become a video game. I’m not sure if it’s cool or not.” What was especially cool about the logs was I could see through them and if I really started to ignore them, concentrating on something else that was visible, they just disappeared, minimized, vanished.

“I hope there’s respawning,” Janet said. “I’m not sure I can take fighting Acid Slimes without dying at least once.”

“Well,” I said. “I wouldn’t count on it. My opening message seemed to hint that the Collective wasn’t really expecting a lot of us to make it. God Bless America! My leg is … argh!” I kind of yelped. As you might have expected, it still hurt.

“I’m sorry! Does it hurt? Is there anything I can do?” Tanya asked.

“Wait, wait!” I said. “I got a title and it said that all skills were unlocked with it. Maybe I could heal myself.” I looked down at my leg, at the hole in my ankle about the size of a quarter, that surprisingly wasn’t bleeding that heavily, and the red rash-like band that encircled it and holding my hand out, said, “Heal!”

The girls looked down at it, then at me and then at each other, before bursting into laughter.

“Hey!” I said. “You never know! I have no idea how it’s supposed to work. I just know I got a title that says, and I quote, ‘In addition, it unlocks all skills; the title bearer must still learn how to use or discover them’. So there!” I said. I waited until they’d stopped laughing.“Any ideas of how this is supposed to work?” I asked them.

Somehow they seem to have already bonded. Nothing brings girls closer together than a man to laugh at. They exchanged looks and then turned to me. Tanya said, “What are skills?”

“I think,” I said, “Skills are things that you can learn, like juggling or sword fighting or solving a Rubik’s Cube. Bear in mind, I’m just guessing. Hey Imu,” I said.

The little fairylike energy being faded into view and said, “Yes?”

I ask, “Is what I said about the skills correct?”

“Yes,” it said. “Skills are leveled. ”

“Huh?” I said. “What do you mean?”

“As you get better at a skill, it will increase in level. As it increases in level, you will gain proficiency in using it. For instance, if you have the skill, “Fire Starter”, at first you might be able to start a fire in a fireplace that someone else has created; however, by the time you are at level 100, you might be able to start a fire underwater.” it said.

“Is there a maximum level of skills?” I asked.

There was a long silence then.

“What kind of skills are there?”, I asked.

Again there was a long silence.

“Ok”, I said, “not going to answer that one either.” I asked. “How the heck do I heal my leg?”

“Think on it and it will come to you!” it said and then faded out of view.

“Well, that was as helpful as being hit in the head with a big stick,” I muttered. “Could you hear that?” I asked the girls.

They both looked at each other and then shook their heads. “No, all we heard was you talking to yourself,” said Janet.

“I was talking to my Imu,” I said. “It said that skills are leveled and mentioned a skill with a level of 100, so I’m assuming that skills can at least get that high.

“What kind of skills are there?” Tanya asked.

“I don’t know,” I said. “The Imu didn’t tell me. It just said, and I quote, ‘Think on it and it will come to you.’ Bloody useless thing! It’s like the apocalypse’s help files got written by a Microsoft Zen poet. Tanya, why don’t you try to get Janet caught up on everything that we’ve learned and I’ll try to figure out this Healing thing, ‘cause my leg is on fire!”

She nodded her head and then she and Janet took a seat on one of the wooden benches in the locker room and started talking to each other quietly. In the meantime, I closed my eyes and tried to “think on it!”

I figured that I had mana and Qi, so I might as well try to use them. ‘Spells first,’ I thought. The first thing I tried was rhyming verse, “Oh bleeding sore, be no more!” I’m not a great poet, and, thankfully for the ears of the other people in the world, nothing happened. I spent a few seconds imagining myself healing through doggerel, or worse still, could you imagine the last words that you heard as something like this, “Oh blazing light in the sky! Thrust my black dagger of midnight through their eye!”

My next attempt was the Harry Potter approach, I tried Latin. “Sana quod armum!” and still nothing. After that I tried what I probably should have done anyway, thinking or at least meditating on healing. From my perch against the wall, I closed my eyes and tried to focus on my body. I tried to focus on my breath, deep breaths over a ten count, holding for three seconds after inhalation and exhalation. I did this until my mind stilled and only then did I start trying to figure out how to heal my leg. ‘How?’ I wondered. ‘Relax! Just go with the flow. Breath in health, exhale pain. Breath in health, exhale pain. … there’s a lot of pain! … relax, relax. Breath in health, exhale pain. Ouch! Relax, relax. Breath in health, exhale pain.’

I kept my internal monolog and breathing going for about 20 minutes before I felt something. Just like in all of the Xianxia-style web novels, I’d read, I felt something in, amazingly enough, right where they’d always described it, in the lower belly, just below my belly button. It felt like golden energy. When I concentrated on it, I felt a warm glow and as I paid attention to it, it began to expand, at first like the corona of the sun, whisps and arms of energy pulling from the center and then collapsing backward and then later, it seemed to spin off and I felt the energy moving out from the center and through my body. It felt like it knew where it was going, almost as if it were following a track or path that I couldn’t see, but evidently, it could. I started to focus on my foot then, hoping that something would happen.

About then, I noticed another section of energy.

This one was blue. It seemed to mainly congregate in only two places, my chest, about where my heart was placed and, strangely enough, in the middle of my forehead, right about my eyes. ‘Ok,’ I thought, um, the golden one is probably Qi, I’m guessing. All those Xianxia novels, Chinese philosophy texts had to be somewhat right. But what is this blue energy?

I called up my status screen again. After looking it over, I decided that the blue energy must be Mana. ‘Cool! Magic!’ I thought. About then, I noticed that the $ icon was blinking again. I focused on it and it expanded and showed me the following:

“Well aren’t you a special snowflake!” it said. “Discovering mana and Qi. And at the same time too. New titles for you. Firstish Mage and Bruce Lee You’re Not!”

“I’m kind of noticing a pattern here,” I said. “Can’t you just grant me a decent title? I mean, so far, pretty much every time I talk to you, well, you’re kind of a, well, jerk!”

“Be glad I’m not the God of Abraham, little boy!” it wrote. “Or else, I’d smite you with a pillar of salt! Or was it turn you into one? Instead, I’m just going to pretend I didn’t notice it. You know words can be hurtful! Ah, who am I kidding? Even well, the subroutine of the subroutine of the subroutine all the way down to you that’s running this conversation could give a crap! Enjoy!”

I decided that I’d probably pushed my luck about as far as I could and called up my Stats menu so that I could view the titles.

Firstish Mage: As one of the first, maybe the first to discover Mana, frankly we don’t care enough to check, you’ve been granted the title, “Firstish Mage”. This title grants you the following permanent benefits: +2 to Wisdom and Intelligence, +10% to all experience gained, +1 attribute point gained per level, +10% to all skill points. In addition, it makes it possible to learn all spells possible per level/skill/attribute; the title bearer must still discover them. The title cannot be unequipped.

Bruce Lee You’re Not!: As one of the first to discover Qi, again, we don’t care enough to check, you’ve been granted the title, “Bruce Lee You’re Not!:” Ok, that was a little harsh, you do have some skills, but well, as you pointed out, we’re big ole jerks! Boo Hoo! Boo Hoo!. This title grants you the following permanent benefits: +1 to Strength, Agility, Vitality and Constitution, +5% to all experience gained, +1 attribute point gained per level, +5% to all skill points. In addition, it makes it possible to learn all Qi abilities possible per level/skill/attribute; the title bearer must still discover them, learn them. The title cannot be unequipped.

“Girls!” I said. “Stop what you’re doing and listen. You guys know how to meditate right? Just sit down, close your eyes and breath, five seconds in, pause for three, five seconds out. Once you do, concentrate on your belly button and on the spot between your eyes. If you’re lucky, you’ll see gold energy around your belly and blue around your eyes. I just got two more titles! Hurry! It sounds like there might be a first come, first served kind of condition about this.”

Despite my calling them girls, they both did as I said and sat down on the floor of the locker room and started meditating. I tried to help, tried to coach them, “feel the energy. Breath in power, exhale doubt.” But shortly after I started, both of them looked at me and almost at the same time said, “Shut up!” Knowing when I wasn’t wanted, I left the locker room and went into the main room and tried some things.

I’ve got to admit, that based on the titles that I received, I was feeling pretty OP. I mean my stats got bumped, my skills got bumped and I was given a huge experience point bonus. ‘Wahoo!’ I thought. ‘Wahoo!’

I tried some stuff out in the other room, handstands, cartwheels, juggling, heck, I even tried spitting, before I realized that if the girls caught me they’d probably, well, I wasn’t sure, but at the very least it wouldn’t be … um, nice. But nothing that I tried seemed to do anything. Or at least, I didn’t get a skill or another title from my efforts. About what I expected. There are over 7 billion of us humans on the planet, I’d have to figure that most of the “First” titles were snapped up pretty quick. Which led to the kind of gruesome thought of what happens to a title when the person holding it dies? Is it just done, trashed, thrown away or does it get recycled? I mean do they just change some words on it and award it again. Which made me wonder if I was the first mage or first martial artist? I mean, if there had been two acid slimes, that whole fight would have gone a lot differently, wouldn’t it? I could see gaining a title and then losing it in the next second or two. Bummer if that happened to someone. If so, I’m sorry for your loss.