《Solo Apocalypse》Chapter 22
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In the midst of it all, I turned around—the original me—and found a glowing chest. I stared at it, my mind immediately flashing back to the storage closet in the science building. That [Uncommon Chest].
This one was markedly different.
It was a beautiful piece of craftsmanship, stylistic roots lined the entire thing, enough to be real themselves. Yet it retained a glossy finish that hinted at promised value. And it was larger too. Staring at it, I realized it was in the style of the [Rootmother Hivemind] and my thoughts caught up to what I was seeing.
Item: [Epic Boss Chest]
Chests are hidden troves of treasure, capable of holding great boons and riches. This chest is themed around the Field Boss [Rootmother Hivemind]. This chest has the potential to hold epic valuables, either in effect, rarity, or quality.
A strange object had appeared before me. My original self. It gave way to immediate caution, rather than joyous celebration. How had… it known? That I was the one? No one else did. No one else could.
So how had it known to reward me? How had this chest gotten here? I was alone now, without any clones around me, vulnerable. Exposed. It was not a pleasant feeling.
And yet, the part of me that dared to stare at the apocalypse and question reality had already come to a tentative conclusion. Whatever governed my strange new abilities, my Skills, the attributes, and these notices? It was a neutral thing, objective and omnipotent, but not hostile. Nor friendly.
I relaxed, minutely.
I hadn’t expected a reward and in hindsight, I probably should have. Thinking on the effects of my [Spidersilk Backpack] which had come from a regular [Uncommon Chest], I couldn’t stop—against my better judgment—the shot of excitement that ran through me.
It was glowing purple. A soft light emanating from the chest itself. I opened it without preamble, intensely curious.
Item: [Ring of the Hivemind]
An elaborately crafted ring of grasping roots. It possesses the psychic energies of the [Rootmother Hivemind], greatly enhancing the wearer’s mental faculties. It is imbued with the essence of a hivemind, allowing the wearer to support an additional companion entity.
- INT, WIS, WIL and CHA increased by 5.
- [Never Alone] total clones increased by 1.
Item: [Regenerator’s Symbiote]
An organism that binds to a single host. Once bound the symbiote improves all biological functions, increases vitality, and enhances recovery effects upon the host.
- CON increased by 10.
- Natural regeneration and recovery effects increased by 80%.
Item: [Living Root Armor]
An armor of living roots that molds across the body. When the wearer is in danger, the roots adapt shifting to reinforce the wearer’s most vulnerable areas. The suit offers complete protection and coverage, controlled by the wearer’s will.
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In order, a small jewelry box, decorated no differently than the chest itself. A small glass jar, corked, containing a moving blue liquid. And lastly, what looked to be a wooden gauntlet, though made of roots.
These were the rewards, along with the new Title, Skill, and levels that were deemed worth my effort. I couldn’t say if I was compensated fairly, I truly had no benchmark. Instead… well, I wondered if being smarter might help.
I slipped the [Ring of the Hivemind] on and felt my world expand. Things became immediately clear. As if I’d had days to meditate on things. The ring.
If these Items were component pieces of my total effort—the material ones, at least—then the [Ring of the Hivemind] composed eighty-five, no, ninety percent of that reward. The other Items barely compared to its effects.
I hadn’t thought of it moments before but the ring was worth twenty levels. Five stat points in each mental attribute, approximately two more clones due to the nature of [Never Alone] besides the fact of its hivemind effect. Three extra clones total.
Maybe the clones were a minor effect when you took it all into consideration. But for the raw stats the ring gave. Stats that were technically multiplied across every clone I had. And those numbers weren’t just some values that determined how many clones I could make, they were me. Aspects of my person. And the mental ones had all gotten bumped up.
I couldn’t tell if they were the singular effects or a combination of them all.
Suddenly I could remember math equations, scientific facts, random lectures, and arbitrary articles throughout my life. I could understand why my parents divorced, how cruel that it was, but also see that there was nothing I could do. I could open that box of memories labeled ‘deaths’ and stare into it unflinching. I could cringe at all my past interactions, seeing all the missed social cues, the awkwardness, the… advances?
I took my world in anew and breathed new air. My mind cleared and I realized I was exhausted. But I couldn’t rest yet. Not when there were still things to address.
The [Regenerator’s Symbiote]. I debated its use, my logical brain latching onto its objective benefits. In the end, I flashed back to the feeling of wrongness when the rootmother had connected with my clone. I wasn't sure if it would be anything like that but I couldn't trust allowing some foreign organism to bond with me on good faith alone. Whatever that even meant. For now, it went into my [Spidersilk Backpack].
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“And this [Living Root Armor],” I said to myself. “No additional details, no attribute bonuses, or effects. Is it because everything’s right there in the description?” At the very least, it didn't seem as intensive and involved as the symbiote.
I created a clone and let him put it on instead. Third put his hand in the gauntlet and I watched the roots expand. They crawled down his arm, under his clothes, and shifted over his skin. It felt like I’d put on another layer, barely noticeable, somehow. I'd leave it on him, for the time being.
I turned my attention to the new Title. Was it [Solo’s Instinct] or just my own intuition that gave me goosebumps more than anticipating what was in the chest?
Of all the rewards, the Title was the singular reward for the entire feat. For being the first worldwide to kill a Field Boss. For doing it alone. For just killing the damn thing. A combination of them all.
Title: [Trailblazing Vanquisher of the Hivemind]
Few possess the capacity to challenge insurmountable odds as you do. You are the first in the world to defeat any Field Boss and the first in the world to do so alone. In defeating the [Rootmother Hivemind] under these circumstances, you are forever distinguished by your feat.
- All attributes increased by 10.
- You gain the [Telepathy] Skill.
- You are immune to external influences upon your will.
The moment I regarded the Title my world expanded. I’d thought it had earlier. Now the universe opened to me, my eyes going wide, not in shock or surprise, but in absolute awe.
My body filled with newfound strength and health, my muscles limbered and I felt total control over myself.
And I saw, for the first time in my life. The world became vibrant, every buzz of an insect, every light breeze, the scent of ash in the air and loamy soil below. Everything was brought to life beyond what I knew.
My mind didn’t stretch, it grew and became more encompassing. Enveloping the entirety of my life. I remembered more. Memories of my parents before they died, so clear, so sorrowfully crisp. I saw my patterns through my life, the depression, the anger, and felt the emotion so distinctly. I remembered now, the people I had indirectly caused trouble for.
And I let it go, all of it, staring at my hands. Unfamiliar hands. Rough, somewhat calloused, I almost didn’t recognize them. I stepped away from another clone of myself and took in the stranger, trying to find… Evahn.
Here stood a man who had taken down a Field Boss. He had done it alone. And yet, I looked into those pale green eyes and, with a breath, I found myself staring back.
If I was Evahn Wynst before, then I was more him than ever. One hundred stat points flooded into me and I felt alive.
Name: Evahn Wynst
Level: 23
Title: [Trailblazing Vanquisher of the Hivemind]
Class: [Solo]
STR: 16
CON: 17
DEX: 15
AGI: 16
PER: 19
INT: 20 + 5
WIS: 27 + 5
WIL: 29 + 5
CHA: 14 + 5
LUK: 14
Stat Points: 18
Skills: [Never Alone], [Low Profile], [Solo’s Instinct], [Solo’s Sanctuary], [Telepathy]
The last thing to check were the Skills. [Telepathy]. That was the reward for doing something so hopelessly against the odds that it was renowned worldwide. The notion sounded so… fantastical. My other Skills so far I had no reference for. But telepathy? That was something people thought of when prompted with ‘superpowers’.
Skill: [Telepathy]
The capacity to perceive and interact with the mind, consciousness, and thoughts of both one’s self and others. To sense, communicate, and influence other thinking entities.
As soon as I regarded the Skill, my mind was abuzz. Not uncomfortably, more like I was feeling something that I’d never felt or sensed before. And I realized it wasn’t me. Not the original me that is. But Second and Fourth down below sensing the minds of the survivors surrounding them.
They took to experimenting while I considered the other Skill.
Skill: [Solo’s Sanctuary]
A personal space tied to the soul from which one may enter or exit. The size, design, and amenities are directly reflective of one’s level, abilities, and inclination. The sanctuary may only be entered by the owner.
I walked forward immediately, reality blurring around me. Two steps, three steps, and suddenly I was inside of a building. A modern home with a black palette, furnished with dark wood and cool glass. A kitchen, bathroom, living room, bedroom.
The result of thirteen levels. I couldn’t even bother to question the nature of Skills, the reason behind this one, and why it was only this one. All I knew was that I deserved this. I fucking deserved it.
I nearly cried in the shower.
Then I had the best sleep of my life.
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A Titan's Crusade
Erik Thayne spent most of his life being brutally ridiculed and tormented for his weight and physical appearance, among other things. A social pariah and diagnosed with an eating disorder no one has an explanation or treatment for, Erik spent years trying to overcome his issues with his personal image and escape the ridicule and vicious torment of his peers. After years of dedicated effort, and a fresh start in a town away from his childhood and adolescent tormentors, he had finally begun to truly realize what he'd been striving for all along. Only, fate apparently has other plans because in the blink of an eye, Erik found himself snatched from Earth and taken to another universe, another world, where he is offered the chance to be more than he'd ever imagined. Now, he has to fight to restore the Balance between Chaos and Order on a world of swords and magic, in a universe governed by the System's laws, which resemble those of RPGs from Earth. Erik learned to embrace the things about himself that others taught him to hate, using them to reforge his physical identity into something more removed from his old self-loathing. But can he learn to embrace the darkest parts of his mind just as he did the reviled aspects of his body and become who he needs to be to succeed in the task set before him? It might just prove easier to stalk in the dark as a monster than to walk in the light as a man... *This is my first time publishing anything I've written to a public audience. Due to formatting issues, I forwent traditional stat-screens for something a little less problematic, delineating stat screens by separating them from regular text with horizontal lines in a lighter-grey coloration. Let me know if you like them or not. Criticism is entirely welcome, but please don't hate on my work after only reading 1 chapter. This is a writing project I intend to complete but I have committment problems so we'll see how long this goes on. Also, fair warning, as the description implies, the main protagonist is intended to be someone who has been treated cruelly, developed antisocial tendencies, and ultimately has to question his own humanity--or lack thereof. This story is not intended to be brutally dark but I will definitely be trying to follow a darker theme. It is intended to be violent and some scenes later in the story might be...alarming. There will likely also be some light, non-graphic (think more implied with crude jokes and conversation than actual details, there will be no full-blown sex scenes)relationship scenes planned later and if you're opposed to either a bisexual or gay main character, stay away. I haven't yet decided which way he's going to swing but the odds on him being straight are relatively miniscule, and I've always wanted to write a story about a gay man who basically looks like a lumberjack because who doesn't like giving conventional stereo-types the middle finger? This will NOT be a harem story, and I have no intention to focus on romance over action--it's a consequence of character development where I'm concerned, not the be-all-end-all of the story. The cover-art does not, in any way, belong to me. It was an image titled the Druid King (by duskanmarkovic according to the file name) which I found on Google Images. Until I can get something commissioned, this is the best stand-in image I could find.
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