Zeke’s impending unconsciousness fled as the ball of energy below his navel dispersed, leaving only the tiniest of beads behind. The energy arced out via his stick-figure pathways to be greedily absorbed by his cells. With it came a sense of euphoria, a sensation of power unlike anything he’d ever felt before, that banished his impending unconsciousness altogether. For a brief moment, he felt certain that he could run through a wall or lift a car. But it only lasted an instant before it faded away, leaving only the pain and exhaustion of his previous battle in its wake. After that, it took him a moment to process everything and remember the message that he’d received.

A level. Oberon had mentioned them, of course, but in the hectic confusion of being attacked by the croco-rats, he’d forgotten all about it. And even if he hadn’t, the idea of gaining levels, just like in a video game, was so foreign that he didn’t really know how he was supposed to react. In addition, with the dispersal of the energy having passed, the fatigue of the fight reasserted itself.

He collapsed in a heap, though he managed to maintain his consciousness – much to his dismay, given the sheer number of wounds he’d acquired. Not only did he sport long gashes up and down his arms, but he felt like his entire back had been reduced to ribbons. His legs hadn’t escaped the punishment either, and he could feel that a large portion of his quadricep as well as a chunk of his calf had been bitten off. And that wasn’t even considering the state of his hands.

As it turned out, repeatedly punching a creature whose skin was comprised of rigid scales with the durability of some metals had repercussions, especially considering the incredible force Zeke had managed to put into each blow. He might’ve been able to punch with the force of a jackhammer, but his hands were still flesh-and-bone. He suspected they were more durable than ever before, but even that durability was no match for the ferocity with which he’d attacked the croco-rats.

In the dark, he looked down at the results. There wasn’t much light – or any, really; his night vision had obviously improved, just like the rest of his body – but he could clearly see the outline of what was left of his hands. His knuckles were caked in blood, some of it belonging to the caracoas, but mostly his own, the result of split skin and a couple of protruding bones. If that was it, he might not have been so concerned. After all, he suspected that he would heal much more quickly, now. But his broken knuckles were only the beginning of the damage; it was like every bone in his hands had been shattered up to the wrist. And as the adrenaline of the fight began to wear off, it was replaced by undiluted agony.

Before Zeke knew it, tears were trailing down his cheeks as he writhed on the uneven ground, cradling his hands to his chest. It wasn’t just the pain in his hands, though that was a big part of it. If it was just that, he probably could’ve born it. However, the myriad wounds covering his body all coalesced into something greater than the sum of its parts. More, though, there was a sense of helplessness. Despair. He hadn’t asked for any of this. He didn’t deserve this kind of torture.

But that didn’t matter, did it? Life wasn’t fair, so why should the afterlife be any different?

He had no notion of how long he lay there, wallowing in mingled agony and self-pity, before he remembered to open his status screen. With a thought, the window opened, displaying the set of statistics that were supposed to represent his very existence.

Name

Ezekiel Blackwood

Class

n/a

Level

2

Race

Human (H)

Alignment

Isphodel

Achievements

First Blood

Strength

17

Agility

13

Dexterity

16

Endurance

12

Vitality

10

Intelligence

6

Wisdom

4

Unassigned Attribute Points

15

Fifteen unassigned points. He’d had a plan, coming into this, but making plans in that safe, white room when everything was just hypothetical was one thing. But when he’d just had his body fileted by the croco-rats, things had unavoidably changed. While he desperately wanted to follow his plan and put his points into strength, he knew that probably wasn’t a great idea.

First of all, there was his most immediate problem. Not only was he in no condition to fight his way out of these caves, but he was also having quite a difficult time thinking straight amidst the pain coursing through his body. Certainly, he thought he could heal from his injuries – especially if he managed to master his [Leech Strike]. It had already helped immeasurably, and without it stealing the caracoas’ life force, he had a feeling he’d have already died. But was he willing to take that chance?

No. No, he wasn’t.

So, strength was out. So were agility and dexterity. Similarly, while his instincts told him to balance out his intelligence and wisdom, he knew they wouldn’t immediately help him, either. Given that he didn’t have any activate skills – [Leech Strike] seemed to be toggled; once it was activated, it would remain so until he toggled it off – he wasn’t even entirely certain that they’d do anything at all for him. So, with those discarded, there were only endurance and vitality left.

Vitality was an easy one. Even if Oberon hadn’t said that it would enhance his physical recovery, his [Leech Strike] would’ve given him plenty of hints to know that it would help him heal from his wounds. And that was something he desperately needed.

However, there was also the problem that he was ill-equipped to withstand using his own strength, which he suspected was tied to endurance. If he broke his hands every time he tried to punch something, then his strength was useless. More, he had no illusions about the croco-rats being the strongest creatures he would face. If they could cut him to ribbons, what would something worse do?

So, with that in mind, his decision proved easy, and he decided to divide his free points between vitality and endurance, with nine going into the former and six going into the latter. His reasoning on the split was that he wanted his endurance to exceed his strength. With a thought, Zeke allocated his points.

As soon as he’d done so, a wave of warmth rippled throughout his body. He could feel his shallower wounds close in an instant, and he let out a wordless scream as the bones in his hands rearranged themselves. It was even more excruciating than before, but it passed in a moment, leaving only a mild discomfort behind. He knelt on the ground, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he tried to figure out what had happened. Surely, nine points in vitality weren’t enough to completely heal him, right?

So, what was it? The level itself? Or was it something else? After a few more seconds, during which a thousand questions rocketed through his mind, Zeke realized that he had absolutely nothing to base any of his conjecture on. In the end, he was almost completely ignorant of his new world. And he knew that, stuck in this cave, no amount of thought would shed any light on it. So, rising to his feet, he took stock of his situation.

Looking around, he saw the indistinct lumps of shadow that were the croco-rat corpses. When they weren’t trying to kill him, they didn’t look nearly so intimidating. Sure, they were an unholy mixture of reptile and rodent, with wickedly curved claws that resembled a wolverine’s, but they weren’t nearly as big as he’d thought. No bigger than a mid-sized dog, discounting the thick, crocodilian tail. Whatever the case, their corpses weren’t useful. Perhaps, if he’d had a knife, he might’ve tried to skin them and fashion some sort of armor from their tough hide. Or harvest their tail meat, like people did with the alligators. But given that he had nothing but the tattered, linen shirt and pants that he had woken up in, that was out of the question. So, he continued to scan the cave, finding nothing at all of use.

It shouldn’t have been surprising, given the nature of the quest he’d been given. If he wanted to survive, he’d have to find his way out of the caves. And what’s more, he’d have to dodge more of the hideous croco-rats along the way. However, despite the surge of vitality that had come with the allocation of his free points, Zeke knew he was in no shape to begin what he suspected would be a difficult journey. So, he quickly made his way to the corner of the cave, sat down, and closed his eyes. Hopefully, his recently boosted vitality would continue what it had started.

Zeke sat there for what was probably a few hours. He had no way to tell how much time had passed, but in that span, his body had continued to recover. He didn’t experience another boost like he’d gotten after allocating his stats, which made him suspect that it had been tied to gaining the level, but his body still recovered at an astonishing rate. The bones in his broken hands had been mostly healed by the surge, but they’d still been fragile. He knew that if he’d have tried to punch something – even at half-strength – they would’ve once again shattered. But after a few hours? They felt as whole as they’d been when he’d awoken in the accursed cave. In addition, all but the worst gashes had completely closed, and the missing chunk of flesh in his leg had regrown. It was tender, but it still worked just as well as it ever had. Better even, considering his increased stats.

During his recovery, Zeke had taken the time to explore the various menus available to him. There was, of course, his main status screen, which showed his statistics. There were some categories he didn’t understand, like alignment and the categorization of his race as Human (H), but as he focused on each individual listing, a series of sub-menus became available. As he opened them, he found more information.

The first surprise was that, if he wished, he could change his name. What good that would do, he had no idea, but he chose to leave it as it was. Next, he’d focused on his race, which brought up the following description:

Human (H): Humans are the most prevalent sentient race in the multi-verse. However, they are afflicted with unrepentant mediocrity. This is both a blessing and a curse, because while they excel at nothing, they are unfettered by attunements or blatant weaknesses. Upgradeable.

Zeke could easily read between the lines. Few weaknesses. Few strengths. Never mind that the description basically confirmed the existence of aliens. That was a shocker, in and of itself, but he couldn’t really concern himself with that right now. Instead, he focused on how his race might affect his own development. He assumed that meant he could guide his own path, rather than be pigeonholed into doing something just because his race demanded it. At least he had freedom, even if he had no idea what that really meant in an unfamiliar world.

He mentally delved more deeply into his race, which brought up a new screen.

Body (H): Determines physical limitations. Upgradeable.

Soul (H): Determines spiritual limitations. Upgradeable.

Clearly, the grade of his body had something to do with how physically strong he could become. Perhaps there were stat limits, or maybe upgrading it would simply give him a boost. However, the soul part was a little more ephemeral. What would upgrading it do? Increase his intelligence or wisdom, maybe? Or something less quantifiable? He didn’t have enough information to make a determination, so he simply moved on to the next category.

Next, he focused on his alignment, but he was disappointed that it only gave a name: Isphodel. He had no clue what that meant, but he wasn’t going to focus too much on it, especially with everything else on his plate. Maybe he could figure it out later.

Finally, he came to Achievements. When he mentally zoomed in on the line, another window opened. It was almost completely empty, save for a single line:

First Blood: You have slain your first enemy with your bare hands! All Stats +1 Per Level.

Upon seeing that, Zeke backtracked to his status page, then looked at his statistics. He hadn’t noticed it before, but in addition to the points he’d allocated into endurance and vitality, he had gained a single point in every category. It didn’t seem like much, but over time, he could see how it could add up. Presuming he actually survived long enough, that was. In any case, he’d recovered enough to start on what he assumed would be a long trail out of the cave system.

With a sigh, he rose to his feet and ran a still-bloody hand through his hair. There was no time like the present, he supposed. And with that, he set out, hoping he could avoid any further threats to his life.