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[UNIMAGINABLE SURVIVOR]

Abandoned by your comrades, left for dead;

Wounded, crippled, and dying;

Surrounded by enemies far greater in both number and strength;

No ability to heal yourself, no ability to save yourself;

Yet still, you live.

Regenerate 13% of endurance attribute in HP every 100 seconds. Regenerate 13% of endurance attribute in Stamina every 100 seconds. Increase body’s natural defence by 13% of endurance attribute. Increase HP & Stamina by 13% of endurance attribute Natural resistance cap increased by 13% of endurance attribute 13% increase in resistance gain 13% Decrease to body’s needs 13% Increase to digestion 13% increased awareness 13% Increase to total speed Adaptive senses Traceless Silent Step

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Goodie dismissed the [MENU] screen; His memory may have been far from the best, but even he could recall something after reading it for the seventeenth time.

The regeneration ability was the only effect that really mattered, the only one he had looked at before choosing the title upon levelling up. But now that he had the time, he began considering the rest of the effects of [UNIMAGINABLE SURVIVOR].

Not that he wanted to; not that the wanted anything at all at the moment; he did not have the will to want.

Literally, his willpower attribute was hovering between the four and five mark, barely enough to keep him from just shutting down completely like some robot that had its switch flipped. The emotional flux caused by the party going on outside causing it to spike now and then, the uptick in energy levels instilling in him a need to do something but not enough to fully overcome his apathy towards everything.

The reason for it being the ancient entity perching on the tip of his nose, the tiny arachnid that had bound itself to him, laying claim to his soul and the energy it produced. What it wanted he did not know. Or care…again, lack of willpower.

A brief spike in stress as he heard another large explosion echo out, the shock wave, being far too close for comfort as the remains of his once-home rattled above him, spurred him on to slightly adjust his position on the ground.

After however long to make it out, he and his two…no, three inhuman companions had made their way towards his truck-wagon, within it the bed he had so longed to see.

But as they approached, the damn thing exploded as a siege spell hit it dead on; Goodie briefly seeing it breach through the roof before the rest of vehicle violently expanded outward, blowing him back and down onto the ground.

He had mostly escaped unscathed but for his left leg which had been severed by a piece of shrapnel, the lost limb flying further out than he had while blood spouted from the end as it twirled along its path. A sight that, for some reason, had him thinking of ballet.

Her Majesty had stopped his side of things from doing the same by smothering his stump with shadow stuff from her own body; Something that he would have to thank her for later.

He had not wanted to move at the time, not even sure if he even could move, but at the urging of his companion and the spider, he crawled to the devastated remains of his former home.

Whatever spell had been used had left the vehicle a smouldering wreck, but had not actually set it on fire or even melted it. Whether it was because of the materials involved or the type of spell that had been cast, he could not say, but the vehicle was mostly off the ground and he dragged himself under it.

As shelters went, it was unlikely to be able to protect him from a second hit, but he figured that whoever was attacking him would not target the same place twice if they did not have to and he was unlikely to make it very far if he chose to try and run.

So, they waited.

His new master and his long-time companion began communicating with each other while he drifted into a strange indifference to everything. Almost everything.

He had focused on his leg for a while, the wound being fascinating.

Not in a masochistic sense, though. Or maybe it was? It was somewhat disorientating, the wall or whatever that had erected itself between him and his motions making it hard properly place such abstract things.

All he really knew was that the wound hurt; A white host flame that attracted all his attention.

Until it did not.

He guessed that his new ability had done healing the wound under his blackish cast, but he was not of the mind to take a peek and see. He would wait until the leg started to grow back.

If it grew back.

He was exactly sure how his regeneration would work or to what extent that it would reach. Maybe it only affected minor wounds? Only growing back the tip of a finger, or a tooth perhaps?

Or maybe there was some other meaning to the word regeneration, some words having that.

Maybe in ye old English, it meant ‘ha-ha’.

Whatever. With the fading of the pain, so too did his brief motivation fade with it. His indifference to things almost complete now.

Goodie just lay there staring at the roof, the floor of the home that was now experiencing a new, open-concept design.

All the while a voice in his head kept trying to get him to think of Diane, the summoner that he shared the vehicle with, but…eh. He just did not have the energy to bother.

After making himself a little more comfortable in the crushed and dying grass that had originally been here before he decided to use it as his parking space, he went back to thinking. And trying not to think. Which was a strange thing, as the contradiction got him to thinking. Mostly about the ground.

There was a sharp stone sticking into the back of his…well, back, a discomfort that could have easily been resolved by reaching under himself with a hand and simply removing it, but…eh.

As minor as it was, the discomfort was just enough to keep encouraging him to do something without actually giving him the energy to do anything. So, he distracted himself. It was what he always did when he entered such a state. Play games, watch tv, stare at the wall. Not for joy, not for love of entertainment, no, everything was just a way to pass the time until he became tired enough to go to sleep. Which was what he really wanted, to go to sleep and never wake up.

Not die, that was not a fancy way of saying commit suicide, he really just wanted to remain in a nice, warm and cosy bed for ever and ever. And a day.

Or two.

It was weird though; though the two instances were similar, the times like this that he had experienced on earth and the one he was experiencing now, while sorta the same, were also so different that the contrast between them almost made what he was experiencing now feel alien, supernatural even.

He knew he was being stupid, the spiritual enslavement to the spider spirit on top of him clearly putting this whole affair into the unnatural category, but still, it was more than that.

The main difference was that, unlike those confrontations with the people that were supposed have looked after him, he was not left an emotionally crippled mess. No, while the siphoning of his spiritual energies technically also left him emotionally crippled, it did so in such a way that for the first time in his life had also left with a strange sense of freedom.

He was not happy, per se; Although he might have been, the whole stunted feelings thing making the matter a bit of zen riddle. ‘How does one feel happy if one feels nothing?’

But the relief the emptiness that had hold of him was intoxicating; He was free of want, of care, of everything that had made his life a living hell. And for the first time in his life he wasn’t concerned about how he was going to screw up next, he didn’t care about what others thought, not of him or anything else, and best of all, he wasn’t scared; not of his uncle’s drunken tirades, not of his aunt cornering him so she could use him an as an emotional chew toy, nothing. And it was the best feeling in the world. Any world.

And all it took was having his soul sucked out by an unfathomably ancient bug.

Said bug was still in a heated debate with Her Majesty. A flicker of light from outside and the following series of bangs far off in the distance telling him that the waggon-train was responding to the attack, countering the incoming spells with ones of their own.

“Eh,” he said, the distraction soon losing its lustre.

His current new-found freedom could have been a little better though, the sense of self-preservation ingrained into him by an instinct that had been refined through millions of years of evolution was screaming at him, telling him to run, to hide, to at least give a shit about his immediate safety, the deadly firework display still going on outside.

‘Whatever.’

So, his steps were silent, huh?

He had thought his footsteps were quieter, but complete nullification of any and all sound? Now that was something. If he were a thief, it would have even been something special, but as he was an utter coward that would never willingly approach an area where he would be put into danger, it was a bit meh, to be honest.

‘Willingly’ being the keyword there. He had been dragged into the Burrows by those morons, been kicked out of the city by other morons…and been brought to this world by some millennia-old spell set on auto-cast by even more morons…from an entire planet of morons to another planet of morons. Following that pattern, he, the moron that he was, would again fall under the influence of some other moron soon enough and would once again have to flee for his life. The improved stealth skills would prove itself then, he was sure, so it was not completely without value. It would come at the cost of his tap-dancing career, however.

‘Eh, what was life without a bit of sacrifice?’

It had annoyed him a while ago during his journey back to the surface; An oddity that he could not quite place as he stumbled and continuously half-fell as Her Majesty guided him along the winding earthen tunnels. Packed-earth wasn’t as conducive to noise generation as one might think; stamping on it merely causing a dull thunk at most, and the chances of an echo much less likely than what one would experience in a cave of stone. It was a minor nuisance at the time, his inability to recognise what exactly was giving him the feeling that something was off while trying to escape from that underground hellhole had kept him on edge, shadowing every thought as he made his way up.

But now he knew. And that was that.

That adaptive senses was also a bit of a mixed bag. It allowed him to see within the dark, the value of that ability more than obvious, but he could have done without the improving of his ability to hear and smell things. Especially now, the screams in the air and the fresh aroma of faecal matter carried in on the wind being far from pleasant.

The rest were nice, but also a bit meh.

Traceless? What exactly did that mean? Smell? D.N.A.? footprints? He would have to check that one out. If he could not leave footprints, then wouldn’t that mean he was floating on stuff, using telekinesis or magic or whatever to stay above the ground. Couldn’t he walk on water then? Or avoid traps, even?

He did not really care for any of it, it was just that his mind was racing. With the lack of emotions getting in the way of things, his mind was finally free to go wild, the grey matter going into overdrive as for the first time in a decade it was allowed to actually think without the constant stress and anxiety that kept dragging him into an endless, downward cycle of self-contemplation that would inevitably lead to even more anxiety and stress and then repeat itself in a never-ending cycle of self-loathing.

But as he was unwillingly trying to think of everything at once, the speed of his thought leaving him feeling a bit disorientated, he ended up thinking of nothing at all, the buzzing in his head kind of like the whine of a microphone when you got to close to it when it had not been properly set up.

He drifted there, between being motivated and completely listless, bobbing between the two states like a buoy trying to be dragged beneath the water’s surface, popping up randomly as something gave him reason to become distressed. Those sudden bursts of energy, as weak as they may have been, feeling much like when the lights came back on after the power had gone out.

He felt Her Majesty through their link, the shadow demon moving with unmatched out of their little hidey-hole; he assumed she was going to scout the area, but he did not feel like confirming it.

There was some screaming from outside, from a woman…or women. The pitch of their wailing reminded him of the last time he was cornered by his aunt. The shrill woman had ranted and raved at him about vegetable and healthier living, going at him as if he was somehow standing in the way, that he was preventing everyone from eating a carrot.

It was doubly hurtful as he had previously begged her to help him eat healthier, his concern for his body growing after his attack. A conversation in which she had also come down on him like an unstoppable shit-storm because his cousin Theresa was only eating things of a certain colour at the time, and somehow that prevented his aunt from doing anything.

As unlikeable as the recollection was, it helped to stoke his spirits, inspired him to do something. Specifically, something to distract him from the memories. That was the weird thing about willpower. The spirit, if you will. Present a person with a certain scenario, a challenge or an adversity of some sort, and they might rise to conquer it, or they might descend into the very pits of madness. But if you took that same scenario and presented it to another person, you could get entirely different results. Surrender where others would succeed, growth where others would diminish. Or you might get the same results, or something somewhere in the middle of the two.

But as his energies returned so to did his anxiety, and he was quickly worn down again, further even, the fresh memory of his guardians tiring him mentally if not physically.

He felt himself slowly slipping into the comforting call of sleep; And Her majesty once again denied him that sweet embrace by delivering the equivalents of a psychic scream across their shared link as she popped up out of wherever it was her skill took her. She inundated him with a slew of sensations and images, entire concepts that delivered unto him the full and clear extent of her ire.

“I’m up, I’m up,” he whispered half-heartedly as the snake returned to talking with the boss.

She and the spider argued about how they were going to deal with everything going on outside, the spiritual back and forth leaking out loud and clear like a bullhorn to the ear. He was only really getting Her Majesty’s side of things through their shared link, but it was easy enough for him to infer what was being discussed. It was a simple question in the end.

How were they going to survive?

Well, he already got the survivor talent, and that was pretty much the extent of anything that he could come up with, so job well done; He tried drifting off to sleep again, but Her Majesty was still insistent that he remain conscious for some reason while they blathered on.

Goodie lay there listening as they went on.

Neither of the two ethereals were stupid enough to think of entertaining the thought of a direct assault, thank goodness; Her majesty’s initial scouting of the source of the spells bombarding them had revealed a force far too great in number to consider taking them on, not that they would have even if it were, though. It was none of their styles after all.

He had not known the spider for long but ‘it’, the spiritual entity having no inherent gender and being too old to remember if it had born children while it was alive, too old to too even remember ever being alive at all, in fact, was, like most spiders, a trapper and thus relied more on stealth and careful planning rather than resorting to physical brawn to down its foes. It was advocating for patience, suggesting that the three of them should just remain in hiding and wait for the whole mess to blow over before they made their escape under the cover of night.

Her Majesty, however, wanted to go after the alphas as she had done during the battle underground. Even if the enemy was using magic, her venom had already proved itself effective on a number of humans and her speed would be more than enough for her to escape as long as she was careful. Then, after the death of their leaders, when the weaker followers scattered, she would help the other adventurers in cleaning up.

“Won’t work.”

He had not spoken intentionally, the words just slipping from his mouth in a gentle, regrettable whisper.

Right then, Goodie tried to test the traceless effect with everything that he could muster.

Apparently to no avail as the two unearthly entities turned on…to him, their conversation silenced, their cold, inhuman gaze focus and narrow, their antagonism turned to unity as their many eyes began to drill a metaphorical hole through the leather of gator-dog hide armour.

After an impossibly long moment of silence, he became sure that they were going to ignore his words and return to their discussion, that hope being inflamed when the spider once again turned as it sent a wave of spiritual energy towards Her Majesty.

A hope that was dashed when, instead of responding, his shadowy companion began translating what the ancient arachnid had said.

It was a simple concept; ‘Explain,’ it had asked.

Goodie just sighed. Why did everyone keep asking him to explain the obvious; he just didn’t have the energy for it anymore.

An insistence came a moment later when the spider expressed its aura towards him with a hint of intimidation mixed in. It was just enough to motivate him.

He sighed again as he relented, submitting as he always did. It was just easier than having to fight; always having to fight.

“The people beyond are from the local’s military, the proper one,” he told them; the information more than enough for the pair to have figured out the rest.

Apparently not, as once more the spider’s aura washed over him.

He sighed as he relented once again, “The people from earth and the local powers got a truce on, this lot killing us being a full-on violation; not the type of thing you want getting out.”

Her majesty began translating for him and the arachnid; the spider could somehow understand words, though he was buggered if he could say how; even English ones, but only to a certain extent.

The spider wanted to know why it should concern itself with what the military wanted.

Goodie rubbed his brow; he really just wanted to sleep.

“Even if these guys are aiming for something bigger like full-on war, they’ll want to keep a lid on it for as long as possible to maintain the advantage by keeping our lot unaware, so they’re not going to leave any survivors.”

He took a deep breath before continuing.

“They’ve got proper equipment and training, and the numbers clearly show that they came prepared to fight adventurers, at least three hundred of them for every one of us. Or them rather…,” he said while nodding his head upwards towards where the rest of the caravan was fighting, “…which means they’re not stupid enough to underestimate us. Sniping is a long-favoured tactic for Earthers, so they would have planned for having their heads cut off, metaphorically speaking. It’ll certainly hinder their efforts, but they’ll adapt…so, they won’t be running about when their leader drop. Instead, their more than likely to put on a search for whoever’s dropping them. And…”

Goodie flexed his jaw, the muscles aching as this had probably been the most talking that he had done in a while.

“…Those guys tossing about those spells outside? Those are local mages, real mages; They use real magic, not a [SYSTEM]. While that does have its drawbacks, it also means that they’re not restricted by it, able to cast any sort of spell that they can learn. What those spells are, I can’t say, but their certain to have people capable of using their magic to detect things, to detect us, probably also magic to see in the dark, or body heat and stuff. Also possibly even targeting us directly once the find is and if they think we’re a threat, so, no hiding, no going after the pack leaders, and no miraculously breaking through the blockade at night.”

The two of them just stood there. Well, Her Majesty was coiled there, no legs and all.

After a moment, they went back to arguing with each other.

Goodie wondered why they were so eager though. Sure, survival was a thing, but it was also so much work. Sleep was better.

They came back to him a moment later with another set of ideas.

“Won’t work, your venoms not that strong and they aren’t likely to stop to eat for a while.”

And, again, they turned away to argue before setting upon him once more.

“Won’t work, Eric was nice enough, but wouldn’t trust him as far as I could throw him. The guy will use us cannon fodder for sure, and if not him, then one of the other waggon-masters.”

And again.

Won’t. Work.

And again.

How would I even do that?

Eventually, instead of giving up, they forced him to make a suggestion.

One he only gave after some greater motivation more spiritual screaming.

Where on earth did Her Majesty learn of such rude concepts, he wondered before relenting to their wishes.

“Fine,” he said as he caved in, “if you really must do something, then you should consider attacking the south. Disrupt those circles mid-cast and there should be quite a bang.”

The unearthlies asked him about the repercussions such an act, the possible outcomes and dangers.

“Pretty much the same as the first two plans, I guess; They’ll obviously go on full alert once people start dying, especially since they’re supposed to be away from any danger and I’d imagine wizards or whatever the locals call them would have high value to the army…if it were me, I’d have their wizards use detection spells to find us; But I have no idea what real magic can do, so what happens then would be a crapshoot,” he sighed

“Eric and the others are nearby, so the locals are unlikely to send someone out to confront us. They could send one of those big bangs our way, but again, unlikely now that they’re being shot down…or exploded…or whatever,” he trailed off as he began to let himself fall asleep again. “Of course, seeing it flying away from them, Eric and their lot could decide to let it through to conserve mana. After all, why waste the energy on something that won’t hit you? So, it all really comes down to whatever you guys think is best, risk it all by fighting, or do nothing and hope for the best. Or have a nap. Yeah…that sounds good.”

Ignoring his comments about good, wholesome sleep, the spider asked if he thought it was worth taking the risk.

“Eh,” Goodie said, shrugging his shoulders. He didn’t have the energy to care.

After a while, Her Majesty twisted to the side, casting a lone eye towards the sliver of light shining through the gap that formed the entrance to their collapsed haven. She took one last look at the slumbering idiot before diving into her shadow realm and then out into the beyond.