Congratulations, challenger! You have successfully survived full neuro-network integration!

Crystallization complete.

The words washed over Eric as he slowly slipped free of the soothing dark waters of oblivion.

Only to be met by blinding flashes of white-hot pain.

He whimpered, wanting nothing more than to slip back into the soothing darkness. But the voice echoing through the massive chamber he thought he was floating in, or perhaps it was just his skull, wouldn’t let him.

Advanced Interface successfully incorporated within neuromatrix!

S-tier System compatibility detected.

Do you wish to incorporate Extradimensional Storage Space? This space will necessitate minimum necessary biomatter to incorporate. Odds of survival estimated to be 98%. This storage space will not count against Class-specific Node talent implants!

Do you wish to incorporate Extradimensional Storage Space? Y/N

Eric tried to push the words away, desperate to be free of the all-consuming pain he was becoming increasingly aware of, feeling for all the world like he was under a magnifying glass, slowly heating up as his flesh blackened to a crisp.

But no matter how he whimpered, or tried to whimper, he couldn’t escape the prompt.

He wanted to laugh, pain finally forcing his sluggish brain back into wakefulness as it all came back to him.

The upcoming movie release.

His world coming to an end.

A spoiled kid having absolutely no appreciation for how good he had had it, until it was all taken away.

As it had been for everyone else.

His desperate struggle to save his twin. So filled with white-hot rage, he had actually dared to jump down into a massive bed of coals, grab his sister, and send one of the monstrous bastards crashing down into the coals in their place, before somehow finding the strength to slip free the porcine savages now enslaving his people, his tribe, perhaps all of humanity.

If nothing else, he had managed to send at least a pair of those orcish horrors to their well-deserved deaths.

The sweet taste of their remembered pig-like squeals was enough to make him think that being burned alive had almost been worth it.

Almost.

At least he had fought.

At least he had tried!

Do you wish to incorporate Extradimensional Storage Space? Y/N

Eric wanted to whimper, finally shouting out “Yes!” in his mind.

Because if the final weeks of life had taught him anything, it was that the world really had suffered an apocalypse of epic proportions, and he’d be a fool not to lock in whatever tool or advantage he could.

And if the upgrade killed him? At least he’d finally be free of the constant throbbing pain that only seemed to grow with each moment he lived on.

Do you wish to allow Interface full access to neurolinguistic centers of your brain? (Broca's area, Wernicke's area.) This will allow for full comprehension of all galactic standard languages, both vocabulary and linguistic structure, upon extended exposure. Minimal exposure to any language will rapidly lead to fluency! This enhancement will use the minimum neuronal tissue necessary to incorporate fully. Ideal odds of survival estimated to be 98.7%

Do you wish to incorporate full neurolinguistic access? Y/N

You have chosen yes!

Upgrades occurring in 3… 2… 1…

Eric found he had just enough time to wonder if maybe he shouldn’t have been so eager to risk what little grey matter he might have left, that it was a miracle even to have his faculties at all, and no doubt his damaged body would have a far lower chance of surviving whatever implants the System or pod or voice in his head wanted to implant... before every inch of his body was flooded with such hideous pain that it made the awful memory of burning alive seem like the mildest itch in comparison.

Because now the flame seemed to be in every muscle of his body, hollowing him from the inside out.

Eric tried to scream. But no sound came, his body locked in a rictus of torment.

Now he was fully, unquestionably awake, finding himself encased in fluids, cocooned in a soundless lightless void, as if he was trapped in a sensory deprivation chamber designed by a sadist, lost in the depths of a gigantic vegetative seed pod that somehow served as the catalyst needed to transform panicked broken humans like him into beings that could thrive in this hellhole of a world.

Even if not one panicked victim he had seen thrown into the top of this very pod had survived the transformation as anything other than a mutated horror.

Because no matter how much he screamed for the system to abort whatever it was doing, in his mind, at least, all he’d receive was a SYSTEM ERROR message, and the pain would continue.

And a terrified part of him couldn’t help but wonder if this was the beginning of the end.

If this was the point where the massive pod would reject him as a 'system error' and he'd come out as just one more mutated tentacled horror, writhing in unspeakable pain before he was finally, eventually, put out of his misery.

Mercy that would never come, having fled through the sewers using the narrowest of tunnels and a constricted entrance, so that no damned massive broad-shouldered orc could hope to squeeze through.

But seeing as how the hoard of slaves above now included turncoat rats among their number…

Then all thought was lost to a burst of white-hot pain transcending everything he had endured up to that horrific moment.

For all that he couldn't say a word, the agonized shrieks echoing through his mind drowned out every other consideration entirely.

White hot flame consuming without end, one eternal heartbeat at a time.

Until by some wondrous miracle, the hideous torment eased once more to the dull fiery ache he had experienced when first entering the pod, the pain finally receding to the point where he could actually register the new prompts flaring across his mind’s eye.

Multiple Essences Detected!

Would you like to upgrade this pod!?!?!?

Congratulations, Adventurer! You have been granted a rare opportunity!

Pod 7970%^3 detects multiple essence blossoms within your soul! detected. detected.

ADDITIONAL essence potentials detected!

If you wish, you may make a VOLUNTARY DONATION of these essences to Pod 7970%^3. This donation will allow for an Alpha upgrade!

This upgrade will allow you to automatically boost physical attributes to PRIME status! Physical attributes will start off THREE FULL STANDARD DEVIATIONS BEYOND HUMAN NORMS! (Your physique will exceed 99.7% of your closest friends! Further growth is possible with induction of environmental potency, according to racial standards.)

You will additionally be eligible for all Standard White Tier physical combat classes, and at least one Advanced White Tier physical combat class, guaranteed!

You will only suffer a moderate reduction in Soul Reserves, and minimal reductions in Spiritual Energy, and Arcane Potency!

Should you accept whatever Advanced White Tier combat class is available to you, you are GUARANTEED to achieve spiritual resonance sufficient to attain at least one Bronze tier combat class, once level 100 is achieved.

The Path of Ascension is Open before you!

Do you wish to take advantage of this RARE and EXCITING opportunity?

It is HIGHLY RECOMMENDED that you make this 100% VOLUNTARY DONATION!!!!

And Eric would have accepted that offer in a heartbeat, wracked as he was by pain, already knowing he looked a horror. Because the thought of making a fresh start in a perfect body covered in muscles that would make even Conan jealous was the dream of every gamer who had ever enjoyed berserking about the battlefield as a barbarian.

THE BARBARIAN CLASS (normally limited to Minotaurs and nomadic cultures) IS ADDITIONALLY OPEN TO YOU! Do you wish make a 100% VOLUNTARY essence donation?

But the supposedly impersonal pod, or interface, or whatever it was, was coming on harder than the producer that had been coming on to Eric’s sister about all the drugs and opportunities he could provider her, if she wanted to spread her wings and fly free of her mother’s influence.

And this voice reminded him so much of ‘Call Me Harvey,’ McMichaels that it was downright scary.

What the hell were these essences anyway, and why was this pod so hungry for them?

And assuming the increasingly desperate enticements of whatever passed for the government were on the level, whoever survived the pods was supposed to be healed of whatever ailed them. Even old age, if that bullshit was to be believed.

So why the hell did he still feel like he was burning from the inside out?

Then he felt it.

The hot fiery rage that had propelled him to run an orc through with one of their own javelins, carry his sister through a bed of coals, and blind a massive porcine sentinel of a cook, right before hip-checking the bastard into his own hell pit.

A burning ember of focused resolve that had somehow granted him the strength he needed to survive long enough to see his sister safely placed in the very pod he was now trapped in, before c

ollapsing like he should have, the moment he fell into those flames.

Like everyone else who had been tossed into that little pit of hell.

No way in hell he should have had the strength to charge through like a linebacker making a touchdown, his sister the only prize that mattered. And the coals he had tossed in that bastards's eye actually blinding an orc that tended flames for a living? Hell, for a split second, those had blazed bright as the sun. Dazzling his foe enough that he ended up falling into his own pit, with just a little help from Eric.

So how the hell had he made it, even with completely charbroiled skin?

That was when he felt it.

The hot throbbing core of fiery rage in his soul, pulsing once more.

Finally understanding the source of his pain.

The pod, his supposed sanctuary, was trying to tear it free.

“I do NOT accept! I am DECLINING this 100% Voluntary donation!” he screamed in his mind.

And so fast he would have been left breathless had his lungs not been filled with amniotic fluid, the pain left.

Are you sure?

Alex felt chills at just how sapient the voice sounded.

He couldn’t help but wince at the thought of how utterly powerless he was within this pod, utterly at the mercy of this voice.

But if his hunch was right… there were rules even this thing must follow.

Rules it had perhaps stretched to the limit with its enticement, even while trying to pull free a piece of Eric’s soul, as if anything less than outright refusal would be deemed acceptance. And if the pain of the slow pull was enough to make Eric think that the only release was accepting the consolation prize… then that also would work in the pod’s favor.

Yet Eric couldn't see a galactic society flourishing, if whatever races were involved in this invasion couldn’t even trust a handful of predatory pods, especially if they were instrumental at ascending, or leveling up, or whatever they were going to call advancing themselves in this new reality.

Maybe it worked by the same cynical principles as almost every bureaucracy and government that had once ruled Earth.

There were rules and safeguards aplenty to protect the interests of the powerful and connected, but things were byzantine and obtuse enough that the naive, the uneducated, and those who weren’t members of the unspoken ruling classes would inevitably fall through the cracks. Hamstrung by one technicality or another, hindered by bad choices that a fellow with better-connected parents or a more elite education would know to avoid. Or simply having family contacts and friends in the right places to help the favored elites slip out of pitfalls that would be the ruin of anyone else.

Even so, a veneer of equality had to be maintained. Genuine enough that anyone with the brilliance or savvy or just the prudence to understand the pitfalls before them, would be able play the game of politics and life the way it was meant to be played. Such that anyone gifted enough to know the right questions to ask, the right paths to pursue, perhaps helped along the way by an angel investor, sugar daddy, or other sponsor, might prosper as well as any of the elites.

It maintained the pretense of fairness.

Never mind that citizens were held to countless laws and regulations never taught in school, while simultaneously being taught that ignorance was no excuse, as small family businesses were crushed by regulations and unfair trade practices put in place by politicians kowtowing to powerful donors that would throttle any small business, fledgling start up, or serious competition, allowing only the most powerful and well-connected to truly flourish.

What mattered was that enough people from humble backgrounds could navigate the maze of red tape and modern bureaucracy to achieve something approaching success, or at least contentment, such that the elite could convince themselves that life was fair and just, and that those that couldn’t step past the pitfalls deserved all the folly and hardships they suffered.

Which meant, or so Eric fervently hoped, was that if he understood the rules and was clear and concise in his requests, he might just survive this pod without being used and thrown away like any other sucker who didn't understand the pitfalls of the game they were all being forced to play.

“What are the benefits of these essences?” he shouted in his mind, knowing damn well that the pod could understand.

He was chilled by the cold silence that met his words.

“Why do you want them in the first place?”

This earned him no response at all.

“What did you mean by Basic, Standard, and Advance Classes? What does White Tier mean? What does Bronze Tier mean?”

Alex felt an anxious twist in his gut. All but tasting a faint, crystalline hostility.

But what was oddest of all was that he sensed it being somehow constrained as well. Trapped in codices of formality and protocol.

And how the hell he could sense any of that, he hadn’t the foggiest clue.

“It’s not that I don’t want to help upgrade your pod!” he ventured. “Maybe I’ll be able to help you with that in other ways, after I get out of here?” His thoughts raced in the endless silence, wondering if maybe the countless MMORPGS he and his sister had loved once upon a time were based on grains of truth only now becoming relevant.

“Maybe you can give me a quest I can take on to help you?”

Eric felt a sudden surge of dread when he felt something shift and change, suddenly certain he had played the fool, and that his absurd arrogance had just consigned him to a horrific fate.

This thing, whatever it was, had transformed countless desperate humans onto tentacled horrors. What the hell would it care for fair play, rules, or any of that?

Eric had basically thumbed an autarch who had offered him an incredible bounty in return for a small sacrifice.

A sacrifice he should have happily accepted, simply for the pleasure of not being hideously transformed, like everyone else had been.

But no.

Eric had to refuse it.

Twice.

And maybe if he hadn’t… maybe it could help his sister?

He frowned then, struck by a sudden bleary image, seeing his sister transformed, her body somehow harder, her innocent dove-like gaze now that of a hawk, scarred by burns but still beautiful, still fierce, doing all she could to drag Eric into the pod he was now suspended within.

If that flash of memory or desperate hope was true… then his sister had made it.

He felt his terrible knot of anxiety begin to ease.

No matter how badly he had fucked things up, when he should never have allowed Elonia to talk him into scouting out a possible rescue mission, or mouth off an alien power holding his life in its hands, at least he had done that much right.

Or so he hoped.

He closed his eyes and prepared himself to accept whatever was to come.

Note. Full physical restoration is presently impossible with essences anchored before soul evolution.

Offer to remove essences... 100% VOLUNTARY OFFER!!! has been refused.

Classes presently available to DAMAGED OCCUPANT include…

Warrior

Spearman

Pathfinder

Barbarian

Lesser Fire Elementalist

Conscript

Conscript class has automatically been chosen.

This BASIC class allows for 3 character points to be distributed every level, with ZERO class perks available.

CONSCRIPT may attempt to evolve class at any time after earning experience needed to achieve level 10. Please note that DAMAGED FAILURES ARE UNLIKELY TO EVER EVOLVE!

Pod will now void DAMAGED OCCUPANT.

And before Eric could even think of a response to that, he was crushed by steel bands of incredible pressure, eyes used to soothing darkness now stabbed by bright, flaring light, crying out as his naked, shivering body flopped onto cold, unforgiving concrete.

Eric immediately began retching and wheezing for breath, choking up vile gobbets of pink slime the consistency of jello, his face turning beat red as he fought just to breathe. His body shook, abdomen clenching with violent spasms as he spewed out endless streams of that vile pink slime, until at last his lungs were clear enough for him to wheeze desperately for life-giving air, tears in his eyes a mixture of terror with how close he had come to death, and gratitude for the sweet, life-giving oxygen now tingling through muscles throbbing with the ache of narrowly avoided asphyxiation.

He sobbed, ignoring the stinging pain that wouldn’t abate along his back and side, where he had been expelled from the pod even now slurping back the rectum-like extrusion it had used not to give birth to him so much as to void him, and a part of him couldn’t help laughing at the sheer absurdity of it. Both absolutely hating that pod as he shook and trembled with weakness and the memory of that cold disdainful voice ringing through his head… and in a state of joyous relief that he was even alive.

Before his eyes widened as he looked down at his naked self and heard a far-off whimper in the distance that he belatedly realized was his own voice.

A voice filled with horrified disbelief at what he had become.

Looking down at arms that had once been sleek, flawless, free of any scar or tattoo, and thanks to his mother’s fearsome training regimen and not-so-welcome chemical enhancements, actually pretty well defined… all that was now ancient history. His stick-thin arms were painful to look at, and worse, covered in hideous scars.

Scars that not only completely covered his limbs, but his entire torso. And his lower legs… He shuddered, wondering if they would even support his weight.

But that wasn’t what filled him with the horror and revulsion he currently felt.

He choked back a sob as he gazed at shaking fingers that looked like melted wax, amazed he could even move them as well as he could, not surprised to find a tremble that had never been there before, the pads of his fingers completely replaced with thick keloid-like growths. Not surprisingly, his fingertips had lost more than a little bit of sensation.

But it was enough.

Enough for him to feel the lumpy mass of melted scar tissue his face had become, choking back a horrified cry. He whimpered, dreading the thought of what that face that had once been on the cover of multiple magazines and a dozen movie review sites must look like now.

His silky blond hair? Gone. Just a lumpy mass of keloids where his scalp should be.

Heart pounding, he desperately felt for his lips, ears, and nose, both horrified and relieved to find them at least partially intact. For all he knew, that was the limit of what the pod could heal, returning him fully functioning, even if a scarred, hideous wreck. But he suspected it was more than that. He was pretty damned sure he had been left this way out of spite.

He couldn’t help but glare at the faintly fluorescent pod of pale green hue and definite vegetative appearance, now almost positive it had deliberately kept his scarring as a punishment. Probably because he had refused to give up his so-called essences. And maybe he had been a complete fool to not surrendering up while he could. Yet that hot tight feeling of fierce determination that had pushed him on, refusing to surrender even when he had been burning alive, was that of a man for whom surrender was never an option. And he remembered all too well that liberating sense of exultation filling him, when he had been charging orcs headfirst through fire, knowing he was a dead man walking, taking in the fierce caustic flames all around him, embracing that hot fiery hate, and making it his own.

And h

e refused to regret his decision.

He was glad he hadn’t given up a piece of his soul to that psychopathic, spiteful pod!

Even shivering with waves of heat and cold, his scarred skin in pain just from brushing against the abrasive cement floor, even as he struggled just to get to his wobbly feet and take in his surroundings, at least he could take pride in having fought for what he believed in.

He had fought for his family. Fought to make those invading horrors suffer the tiniest bit for what they had done to him and those he loved.

Even as he collapsed upon weakened feet, sobbing for the wreck of a man he had become, he swore to himself that he would always keep sacred the memory of those final moments that he had been tested, truly tested, in ways few would ever be forced to endure. And, much to his own surprise, he had survived that crucible of fire.

The self-absorbed, spoiled kid born with a silver spoon in his mouth was gone. In his place was a young man who was dizzy with pain even now, struggling just to get back to his feet. But he could hold his head up high.

While so many cowered before the bloated porcine monstrosities that would be their masters, and still others proved themselves to be the lowest of the low, betraying their own kind for scraps of food and leniency from their abusers, at least Eric had dared to fight.

At least he had done his best to make those orc bastards pay.

He chuckled bitterly. “Not that that does me a lick of good now. What the hell happened? Why am I so weak that I’m walking at a shamble?”

And it was true. Those first few steps away from the pod as he took in his surroundings were some of the hardest in his life. He couldn't help but shiver at the sight of countless sinuously writhing pod tendrils in the middle of this large vaulted chamber that was for some reason adjoining the drainage tunnels. At least the domed roof was surprisingly stable, thanks to its rib vault structure, despite the massive alien pod plant that had burst through who knew how many feet of stone to emerge topside, where so many helpless captives had been turned to horrors for the twisted amusement of their beastly captors.

The very thought made Eric clench his fists, hissing in surprised pain as scar tissue stretched uncomfortably on his fingers and palm.

Only then did he notice the blinking blue light in the corner of his eye that somehow didn't affect his vision at all.

Though it wasn’t so much a light as a feeling.

An awareness of something different. Something that shouldn’t be there, yet was.

His heart roared in his ears, his spine tingling with a sort of disbelieving wonder.

Was there really anything more to this new life than pain, fear, and the destruction of everything he had ever loved? Did he dare hope that maybe, just maybe, there was a flip side to this nightmare? A silver lining to the horrors he had suffered? Truth to the vile pod’s words?

He now recalled with sudden clarity at least some of what it had been saying.

Interface, automatic translation, interdimensional storage space.

“Fuck… is any of that true? Do I actually have an interface sheet? Can I actually improve myself, like in every computer game I ever played?"

He winced. If only his voice didn’t sound like wet sandpaper. If only the soles of his feet weren’t throbbing with every wobbly step. If only he didn’t look emaciated and feel like death warmed over.

But the blue blinking light was unmistakable. And the words now echoing inside his head in the blink of an eye left him breathless with wonder.

You have activated your interface.

Loading…

Full S-tier compatibility detected. Soul resonance complete. Interdimensional Storage Space fully integrated.

Do you wish to access your character sheet?

Eric swallowed and jerked a surprised nod, wondering if he should have spoken his request aloud. But apparently his intent was enough.

His character sheet immediately filled his mind's eye without blocking his vision at all. He wasn't sure exactly how to describe it, finding it very much like trying to visualize a scene in his favorite play even as he zoned out, sitting on the sofa. He was fully aware of his surroundings, yet his mind was also fully on the exquisitely clear image of his character sheet, both surprised and dismayed by what he saw.

_____________________________________

Eric Silver Level 0 Conscript

Physical Characteristics

Strength – 14 (8) Your once athletic physique has been crippled by third and fourth-degree burns and, of course, by accepting a multidimensional storage space that might not have killed you, but definitely took its pound of flesh! There is a price to be paid for incorporating enhancements without using one of your paltry handful of 12 available meridian nodes! (S Tier bloodlines detected).

Be grateful the price wasn’t your life!

On the plus side, now you can store everything that your emaciated body can no longer carry!

Vitality – 13 (8) Countless hours of endurance training and sports fencing can't make up for damaged lungs and the loss of the majority of your epidermis that a certain bitter Tier 0 Goblin Ascension Pod refused to heal! Good thing your matrix helps assure your body is fully restored to baseline after 20-8 = 12 hours of rest, or you'd be in for a lingering death!

Finesse – 12 (9) Your scars and keloids have affected the grace with which you used to move your body. Additionally, you have suffered mild neurological damage (tremor) due to incorporating a full neuro-linguistic interface upgrade without using one of your paltry handful of 12 available meridian nodes! (S Tier bloodlines detected.) There is a price to be paid for enhancing your mind outside of orthodox methods. Be grateful you still have the cognizance to understand your own folly!

Quickness – 13 (10) Your scars and keloids make it painful to move too quickly! The neurological damage you suffered isn’t helping either! You used to be faster than 84% of your peers. Now, your speed is dead average.

Appearance – 16 (6) You have been hideously disfigured by flame after daring to jump into an Orcish feasting pit! Your once movie star looks are now better suited for a horror movie! It’s a good thing you have a decent sense of how to act around others, because their first instinct will be to run in horror!

Mental Characteristics

Scholarship – 12 You have a decent recollection of your experiences and can learn faster than 75% of students. Miraculously, your neuro-enhancement has left your cognitive faculties relatively intact. Too bad there are some memories you’ll never be able to forget!

Perception – 13 Weeks of living on the edge have left you acutely aware of your surroundings!

Willpower – 15 You have the resolve to do whatever it takes to see your objectives through to the end. Even if this means jumping into flames that should have killed you in seconds to rescue someone you loved. 19 out of 20 people would have turned away when painful death was certain. You did not.

Charisma – 13 You’re better than 84% of your peers at reading social cues and responding appropriately, which is a damn good thing, since most people will want to put you down on sight!

Potency Pools

Arcane Potential – 14 Your arcane potential exceeds that of 90% of Conscripts hoping for a better class.

Spiritual Energy – 16 Your ability to harness spiritual energy exceeds 98% of novice supplicants. Which isn’t saying much, since cultivation is almost unheard of in your world!

Soul Reserves – 20 Flawed as you are, none can question the potency of your soul. You found it within yourself to embrace essences few on any world will ever sense, let alone learn to master!

Stamina – 80 (40) Points (Note! 50% Penalty in effect! Severe lung damage suffered!)

Health – 88 Points.

Resistances & Recovery

Physical Resistance – 0

Physical Regeneration – Baseline (You need 20-(Vitality) = 12 hours of rest before your body will fully restore from all negative ailments or injuries acquired since you last slept!)

Elemental Resistance – 0

Qi Resistance – 0

Mental Resistance – 1

Interface Recognized Skills

None

Interface Enhancements

Full Neuro-Linguistic capabilities

Extradimensional Storage space

Essences Claimed:

Fire (Rank 1)

Wrath (Rank 1)

_________________________

Eric couldn’t hold back the awful nauseating sense of despair surging through him. Stunned to quantitatively see just how utterly screwed he truly was.

Twenty-seven points.

He was 27 stat points weaker than he had been before he had entered that pod. Had he not known that number, he could have coaxed himself that this wasn’t the end, that there was hope. That with the help of his mother’s miracle plastic surgeon acquaintance and a few months of therapy and he might be almost as good as new.

But no.

He was a hideous disfigured mess of stick-thin limbs that trembled if he didn’t focus, and all his mother’s dreams of him becoming a movie star like his sister, and his own fantasies of just enjoying his final year of high school, even just a single semester with normal kids who didn’t give a shit about online tabloid sites, and who knew for sure what people looked like anyway, with so many shots of people wearing hats and masks?

All those silly hopes and dreams. Utterly and completely dead.

As if the world hadn’t already ended.

Becaus even if there was some way to heal up the horror that was his half-melted body, he was down nine entire levels’ worth of points.

He glared at the pod.

If only that fucking thing had healed him fully!

Then he shook his head in disgust, knowing that the choice had been his, and the consequences as well. How fucking epic, how many levels ahead, would he be if he had just said the hell with the sense of fire he could now feel flickering warmly in the back of his mind, the hell with the tiny pulse of hot blood it felt so soothing to mentally squeeze with the fresh jolt of something it gave him… to hell with it all, what if he had just accepted Olympian physical attributes and a kickass class, no doubt earning a hell of a lot more than 3 stat points per level?

Who knew how far he could have gone then?

He gave a frustrated shake of his head.

Maybe he had fucked up beyond belief. Maybe he hadn’t.

Either way, all he could do was go forward and live his life. Because sure as shit, that pod had been so eager to tear something free of his soul that it had been hard-selling like there was no tomorrow. So there must be some benefit to holding on to what was his.

Even if that pod withheld on 9 levels worth of repairs, just out of spite. And he sure as shit wasn't putting spite past a pod that had transformed countless terrified people into horrors in the city streets above. Frankly, he knew he should be grateful just to have escaped that pod with his life.

And if there was one thing he couldn’t do in this new reality any more than the old, it was go back in time. All he could do was focus on the here and now. Because as awful as this day had been, there was one bright bit of news that filled him with hope.

He saw no signs of his sister, and now he was more sure than ever that she had dragged him inside the pod. Which meant that maybe, just maybe, she had made better choices than he did and come out a true winner in the mad lottery of picking your class without screwing yourself over that their lives had suddenly become.

He gave a tired sigh, wincing at the pain he felt as a body’s worth of scar tissue twisted and pulled with his every movement.

What he would give for a long hot soak right then! And a masseuse or physical therapist that wouldn’t shrink away in horror at the sight of him. Instead, he allowed his gaze to pan the entire chamber, vaguely remembering the mad circumlocutory route he had taken to get there, trying to remember the quickest way back to the underground shelter adjoining these sewers that had been his family’s home throughout the madness of these last few weeks.

Because shivering and naked, with nothing but scar tissue between him and the cold concrete walls and floor and the trickle of thankfully fresh water, water that was at surprisingly free of any stink or waste that he could sense, he still feared he’d die of exposure long before he had to worry about any orc actually daring the narrow tunnels that led to this chamber.

Then he froze.

A cold spike of dread lodged in his chest when he spotted the yellow glowing eyes in the darkness of one of the tunnels branching from this chamber.

Eyes that slowly grew closer, with the low pitched grumbling squeaks of what could only be rats.

Giant, wild-eyed rats.

And far bigger than the ones he used to hunt with his sister, what felt like just hours ago.

Or maybe it had been ages ago. In truth, he had no real sense of how much time had actually passed, cognizant only of the fact that he had woken up into a nightmare.

And now he was the farthest thing from an athletic teenager armed with a compound crossbow and a one of the surprisingly well-balanced orc pilum or throwing spears, his former body protected by thick padded clothes, work boots, and a thick buff coat that had kept him both warm and well defended against any rat bites.

Now he was just a naked shivering wreck, a scarred shadow of the athletic youth he once had been.

And these rats were far more than the eighteen-inchers he and his sister had once hunted without a care in the world. Bigger even than the two foot-long rodents that had given them both such a scare. Rats that he now realized had hardly been threatening at all, doing his sister no real harm, even after she had slipped on a slimy stone tile, with flickering lights and their own wild imaginations doing the rest.

The exact opposite of the monstrous suckers now approaching that were the size of pit bulls. Red-eyed rodents glaring in the darkness, noses raised as they sniffed and squealed, their ravenous excitement obvious even to him.

"Shit!" Eric's heart began to hammer, doing all he could to suppress the sudden wave of dizzying horror that was overwhelming him. Because yes, these rats were real. And yes, they were getting up the courage to enter this massive room. And yes, those ugly yellow teeth could most definitely rip right through his waxy flesh, so he needed to ignore the pain in his throbbing feet and get fucking moving!

Feeling like he was caught in a bad dream, he forced his weakened body to turn around and begin a loping jog to the farmost passageway, grateful that his stick-thin legs could at least hold up his weight.

Perception check made!

He felt an unexpected surge of relief, seeing a faint sign made in charcoal where he didn’t expect, only now recalling exactly where he was.

It was a simple pattern of crossing lines that he himself had put down when first exploring, so he and his sister would never get lost in the tunnels, always knowing exactly how to get back to the bunker his family claimed as their own.

His eyes barely caught the scrawled word 'birthday' written underneath the mapsign.

Had that been his sister’s hand? He wanted to take a closer look.

But by that point, the curious sniffles and squeaks had definitely turned to a deafening chorus of squeals.

The rats weren’t just investigating now.

They were hunting.

And he was the prey.