A shambler poked its head through the entrance to the tower’s roof. Ripped skin sagged around its face. A jaw missing teeth stretched open as it moaned throatily toward John. Like all the others, it reached for him, but its bony hand came short when John scooted back. While it tried to reset, John came forward with a piece of tower stone in his hand.

Crack!

The shambler’s reanimated life dissipated. It fell back from where it came.

Ding! . . .

It slowed the other shamblers attempting the climb to reach the top. Most of them continued to fall over when they stepped ignorantly over a missing plank. Or they’d break a plank and increase the challenge to get up here. Thus, it was relatively safe on top of the tower.

For now, John thought.

“Is its name really the ding-dong system?” Xanhilt asked quizzically. He had a weaponized stone in his hand, too.

Another shambler appeared, making it past the one John had dispatched. He waved his hand in front of the shambler, stealing its attention.

It lashed out.

John moved out of the way, and Xanhilt lunged forward. He let out a high-pitched cry and bashed the shambler’s head. The blow dented the skull. It did not kill the shambler entirely since it was a Lvl 4. Xanhilt was still Lvl 0, apparently. John couldn’t use [Identify] on him for some reason, so the saurian had to tell him.

“Try again,” John said, repeating the same technique. Once the shambler’s attention turned back toward the human, the saurian kid came forward and struck again. This time the shambler fell lifeless.

“Oh, I got a ding,” Xanhilt said, tilting his head. “It’s telling me I leveled up four times because of bonus tutorial experience.”

“That ding it does is why I call it the ding-dong system,” John said. “Have you checked out your personal interface yet?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“You should take a look at that and distribute your attribute points. It’ll help you fight these things.”

“Is that where you got the stamina stone?” Xanhilt asked.

“Nah, I got them from these bozos. They each have a pouch on them that has some stuff.”

John had used a stamina stone to regain his energy before he started guarding the entrance. He gave Xanhilt one since he was worn out from dodging the shamblers to get here. That was John’s last one, too.

I wish I had another mana stone. Magic migraine sucks. John rubbed at his throbbing head.

“We should probably grab more from the shamblers coming up,” John said. “It’s going to help us survive.”

Xanhilt hummed. “I understand what you’re telling me. I recall being met with the message prompts upon awakening. And I recall something about my personal interface. But the nature of this… game… is horrifically psychotic and impossible. Monsters and magic stones and attribute points shouldn’t exist.”

“What do you call all of this then?” John asked, waving his arms around. And saurians shouldn’t exist either, yet here you are.

Xahilt peered down the hole where more shamblers came to replace their fallen.

John sighed.

All of this was mystifying and spooky for him. Magic. Monsters. Loot. This was shaping up to be something out of a fantasy game, alright. But the game wasn’t made just for humans from another world. Apparently, it pulled other sapient creatures from other worlds as well.

“Do you think we should try to escape this place so we can better secure our safety?” Xanhilt asked carefully. He looked at John like he was the expert even though he was far from it. “I don’t like the look of this ancient tower structure. All of this activity can bring it crashing down.”

“Oh, thank you for adding more to my worries.”

“Hm, okay, you’re welcome,” Xanhilt said without an ounce of sarcasm.

John glanced around the glade the tower was in. There were four dozen shamblers around them. The tower itself probably had a dozen shamblers filling the space. So they had an estimate of sixty shamblers that wanted to get handsy with the living.

On top of that, John was getting hungry. And thirsty.

Vitality, stamina, and mana stones don’t replace food and water.

Xanhilt looked at him with a mixture of wonder and concern. It was uncanny. He was human enough. He had cheeks. His face was flat like a human. John could generally read his expressions. But Xanhilt lacked a nose. There were two holes instead. And he licked at the air a lot.

“John?” Xanhilt called, extending the ‘h’ in John’s name. “I’m scared. I shouldn’t be here. I was on a bus taking me to school. But I think there was an accident. I think I died.”

“I was shot,” John said. “I’m just as scared as you are, man.”

The saurian winced. “You have guns where you’re from?”

“You, too?”

“I hate them. The violence between carnivores and herbivores reached an all-time high last year. Guns were used between gangs.”

Another shambler appeared.

John put it away with a hammering stone strike.

Ding! . . .

“Humans are omnivores, so we fight over different things,” John explained. “What are you?”

Xanhilt glanced away. “I’m a carnivore, and I get hungry quite easily. Which is an unfortunate condition. I wish I was born a herbivore.”

John shivered. “Were you thinking of how I would taste?”

No, he wanted to tell himself. John couldn’t believe Xanhilt would. He’d just met the saurian, yeah, but the alien acted like a human.

But he isn’t human.

Xanhilt fidgeted. “Well, I was curious. I’ve never had a human before. But don’t fret. I’m a well-mannered carnivore. I will only eat you with your permission and if you are already dead.”

John looked up at the sky. He almost wanted to ask if things could get any more ridiculous.

But he was scared the game would answer him with an overt yes.

“Why are we looking up when the monsters are below us?” Xanhilt asked, peering into the blue.

“Searching for thunderclouds so a lightning bolt could strike and end me now,” John said.

“Hm, well, I don’t see any cumulonimbus activity. But my power does suggest something similar.”

“What?” John blinked at him.

“I have a supernatural anomaly called [Lightning of the Gods].” Xanhilt hissed quietly.

“Blessing, right?” John asked.

“Yes, a strange moral anomaly, I believe,” he said. “I do not favor it. Religion is evil, and saurians should rise above gods.”

“Hold that interesting sacrilegious thought.” John looked around him again. The fall to the grassy field was about twenty feet. It was doable. They just had to clear a section of the mob that surrounded the tower.

A shambler popped its head out of the roof’s entrance.

“John, help,” Xanhilt cried.

John whipped his arm around and slung his stone like a fastball. It smashed up the shambler’s face. The monster didn’t drop right away. Xanhilt raised his stone and cracked the shambler’s head open, dropping it for good.

Ding! . . .

“What distracted you?” Xanhilt asked.

“A crazy-ass idea,” John said.

Xanhilt furrowed his scaly brow. “That is peculiar. What makes idealistic buttocks crazy?”

“It’s a human figure of speech,” John said, which made him wonder how they were speaking the same language. Something in his personal interface did mention linguistics. It was easier to think it was more game-magic happening. “Let’s try to stay focused. We might have to make a jump to escape this place.”

“That’s a scary option to consider,” Xanhilt said. “But what will we do about the treasure chest?”

Oh, yeah, that thing.

John turned to look at the wooden trunk on the other side of the tower. He hadn’t noticed it at first until he got over the shock of meeting a saurian⁠—his first actual alien. It was still the last thing on his mind, which shouldn’t be the case if he focused on game logic.

It was a [Treasure Chest, Good]. It could contain something useful.

“Or it could be a trap,” John muttered, which was something Reggie had warned him about. Most treasure chests had stuff that could be helpful. Some could become monsters waiting to eat their next victim.

Another shambler poked its head out of the entrance between them and the trunk. Xanhilt dealt with it while John tried to consider their situation.

If only he didn’t have this stupid magic migraine. Ugh. It was taking a long time to cool down.

“Oh, look! I acquired one of the pouches and leveled up again!” Xanhilt cheered, waving the loot around. He opened it up and showed John.

Four Celcia copper coins glinted dully under the sunlight.

Xanhilt smiled. “Maybe if we barter with the system using this primitive currency, it’ll give us more stones.”

John blinked. “Well, ding-dong? Can we pay you some coppers for magic stones?”

They waited for a response. They received none.

Another shambler reached the roof.

Xanhilt of Xazcor and Hyltfyx, Lvl 4

Race: Outersaurian, Rank 1

Weapon Art:

Blessing: Lightning of the Gods, Rank 1

Total AP: 32

Resilience: 4

Stamina: 4

Strength: 4

Agility: 4

Perception: 4

Poise: 4

Intellect: 4

Soul: 4

Unspent AP: 0

Talents: [Identify, Rank 1], [Urmatia Linguistics, Rank 1], [Inner Compass, Rank 1].

WA Skills:

Magic Cores: [Gale Stream, MCP 3], [Brightlight Orb, MCP 1].

Available MCP: 0

Items: [Leather Boots, Poor], [Trousers, Poor], [Tunic, Poor], [Rope Belt, Poor], [Small Pouch, Poor], [Celcia Coin, Copper/4].