“I need to get what now?” Micheal said, his face pale.

“Not get stabbed,” Margie waved towards the oven. Its door opened, and the sword stabbed out.

“You need to try to almost get stabbed!”

“Why-“ Steven and Micheal cut off at the same time.

The thought that was forming solidified. “The buff!” The two said in unison.

Margie nodded. “Buford needs more speed to make it, and Micheal’s buff is supposed to help every heroic trait.”

Micheal grinned from ear to ear. “You’re a genius, Margie!” He spun back to the door. “I knew there had to be a reason for the kitchen side.”

Steven nodded. “Plus, this makes use of all of our abilities, which seems like good puzzle design. My shields to trigger the trap, Margie’s buff on Buford, then your buff on top of that to give speed.”

Micheal paused as he stared at the oven. “Oh shit, I have to try and get stabbed.”

Margie patted him on the shoulder. “You’ll have a lot of protection. Steven will be ready with a shield just in case.”

Micheal gave a weak smile. “So, how do we get Buford to save me?”

Margie quirked a brow. “Do you have a belt?”

A handful of minutes later, Micheal stood next to the oven, trying and failing to hide his nerves.

Buford stood behind him; his jaws latched around his belt. They’d been worried that he would shock Micheal, but the lighting didn’t behave quite right.

Their best guess was that the lighting only triggered when Buford was making an attack. Otherwise, it was just set dressing.

Steven stood at his side. There wasn’t much room on the kitchen side, but being a little cramped was worth it; Steven had to have a clear view for this.

The plan was simple. Micheal would stand in front of the oven, then Buford would yank him back before he could get hurt. Steven would also throw up a shield, just in case.

He’d tested it, of course, and the sword that stabbed out of the oven would have broken his shields at level 1, he was sure, but they could take it now.

Micheal rolled his shoulders. “I really wish I had thought of a better plan by now.”

“We can still pull out and try a different door.” Steven offered.

The redhead sighed. “No. This is a controlled environment to try and get the buff. That’s a lot better than trying it with a monster.” He steeled himself, then nodded.

“Let’s do it.”

They slowly moved towards the oven. It opened in five-second intervals. As soon as it closed, Steven started counting, and Micheal stepped forward.

One. Steven's palms were sweaty.

Don’t screw this up.

Two. He could get a sword in the leg if you screw this up.

Three. Oh, shit, I really can’t screw this up!

Four. Calm rushed over him, along with the increasingly familiar pulse of his Skill.

Almost.

Five.

“PULL!”

The oven slammed open, and a dark metal point rocketed out.

Buford jerked back, taking Micheal clean off his feet. At the same time, Steven called a shield. It materialized before the blade just as Michael’s foot cleared its path.

Micheal laughed hysterically, laid out over Buford’s front. The dog didn’t seem to notice the weight.

“Are you okay?” Margie asked, quickly motioning Buford to pull him out.

The dog backed out of the puzzle room, careful not to drop the still laughing Micheal.

“It worked!” He crowed. “It worked, and I didn’t get stabbed!”

“Wait, so-“

Micheal cut Steven off. “Thank you, heroes!”

A rush of power flooded Steven. His muscles twitched, his vision sharpened, and he felt his mind clear. He clenched his fist, and it felt powerful.

A blue box appeared in the corner of his vision, on the opposite side from Hand-Shield. It was far more detailed than Hand-Shield. It looked almost like stained glass and depicted a man kneeling, his hands raised in thanks.

A timer appeared over the skill box. 1:00:00. it ticked, 59:59

The hour mark vanished, and the second timer started ticking down.

Margie laughed as she pulled Micheal to his feet. She made it look easy. “You got the buff too?” She nodded, then laughed.

“I feel twenty years younger!”

Buford cuffed and danced around, a hint of blue at the corner of his shroud.

Steven looked at his own hands. It was slight, but he could make out a faint blue sheen.

“This is strong, Micheal.” Steven looked over at the man, who was petting Buford as the dog wriggled.

He laughed. “I guess the System has some heart, if it really isn’t a useless Class.”

“It makes sense. It’s a rare Class and a rare Skill. That’s the same as Jugger-Hound, and we’ve seen what that’s done for Buford.”

Margie chuckled as she flexed her hands. “I don’t think it’s as strong a buff as Jugger-Hound, but it can be put on several people at the same time and has a longer duration. Not to mention no cooldown.”

Michael’s smile faded but didn’t vanish. He sat down and rubbed his chin. “Yeah, yeah. Pros and cons…more team play than Jugger, but less potent. Longer duration and no cooldown, but a specific condition.”

Steven saw where Micheal was heading. “The System seems to consider balance.”

Micheal glanced up at him. “Yeah. Which is good since that means we probably aren’t going to get steamrolled by someone because of a bullshit Skill.”

Steven thought of Reina and how powerful those energy punches had been.

“I don’t know about that. Just look at Jugger-Hound compared to Hand-Shield. Not to diss my Skill, it has a lot of uses and has saved our asses, but Jugger-Hound turns Buford into a tank. Rare Skills are a big jump from common. And I’m betting that whatever’s above rare is even crazier. But it doesn’t look random.”

Micheal nodded. “So we won’t get steamrolled for laughs, but we still might get rolled by someone with a legendary Skill.”

Steven shuddered. “If Jugger-Hound is this strong, what would a legendary Skill even look like?”

They all shrugged.

Margie coughed. “I followed some of what you're saying about balance, but I’m going to need some things explained to me. You know I’ve never been big into games.”

“Right, sorry. Balance, in this case, is…take a game like a MOBA, what that means isn’t important,” Steven cut Margie off before she could ask. “Just that in those games, characters have different abilities, like our Skills. If one of those characters can throw out a powerful ability nonstop with no energy cost or cooldown when the rest can’t, that’s unbalanced.”

“That’s a pretty extreme example, but it’s the idea that counts.”

Steven nodded to Micheal. “Yeah, that is an extreme example. The more normal stuff you’d see is a character having an ability that did too much damage without enough drawbacks. Maybe its energy is too cheap, or it’s cool down just a little too low or whatever. But when it gets too out of wack, things become unfair. It’s a lot of work to balance a game.”

Margie scowled but nodded. “So, the System seems to care about balance, with the pros and cons of our Skills.”

“Yep,” Micheal paused, worry in his eyes. “But let’s hope the System is a lot better at it than humans. You wouldn’t believe how unbalanced some stuff was in games that made hundreds of millions of dollars.”

Steven swallowed. “Yeah. The worst case of bad balancing in those games was losing money. If we fight someone with an unbalanced Skill…”

Margie’s lips firmed into a line. “Let’s get moving. No point in wasting more time.”

Steven paused. “Actually, let’s wait until you can refresh Jugger-Hound.”

Margie grunted. “Fair enough.” Her eyes unfocused for a moment.“ Only have a few minutes left, and we don’t know what’s past that door.”

Noodle sneezed.

Micheal nearly jumped out of his skin as he yelled and spun. “Holy shit! I forgot about him!”

The dog glanced at Micheal from his spot in the corner before settling back down.

Steven scratched his head. “I won’t lie, I kinda forgot about him too.”

Margie scoffed and strolled over to the basset hound. “You just need to pay attention. He has a subtler charm than Buford.”

The hound gave her a small grunt as she scratched behind his ears.

“Your dogs are weird,” Michael said while running a hand through Buford’s ruff. “Not only do they listen to you better than any dogs I’ve ever seen, but they are also way too chill about all this.”

He frowned. “And I’ve not questioned that as much as I should. We didn’t even consider if Buford was smart enough to sprint across the puzzle room at the perfect moment.”

Margie opened her mouth, then closed it. “You’re right. Buford’s always been a clever boy, and I’ve got a knack for dog training, but I’ve just assumed he’d understand what we’ve needed from him.”

She paused, then looked up to the ceiling. “System, does my Class make my dogs smarter?”

She scowled at the air for a minute before turning back to them. “I just got a new tab in my character sheet called Class Passives. Apparently, any hound I befriend gains increased intelligence and can better understand my commands.”

Steven and Micheal stared for a second before immediately asking the same thing. “System, does my Class have any Passives?”

“No, you’re only an uncommon Class, loser. Get good.”

Steven sighed. A new tab appeared in his character sheet named ‘Passives.’ It was blank. Scratch that, insultingly blank, after the System’s jab. Asshole.

Micheal shook his head. “I have the Class Skill, which is a passive Skill, but that’s different from the Class Passives, apparently. I think Class Passives are subtler effects, while a Class Skill is more pronounced.”

He shrugged. “That’s my guess anyway since the System told me outright about my Passive Skill, but we had to ask about Class Passives.”

Steven turned the thought over a few times before opting just to ask the System what the difference was. Worst case scenario, he got insulted.

“What’s the difference between Class Skills and Class Passives?”

“It's elementary, Watson! A Class Passive is an effect that’s a natural byproduct of your Class. It’s closer to a Trait than a Skill since it can’t be augmented or upgraded by anything other than-” the System paused, then laughed.

“You almost got me to slip up there and say something I shouldn’t have. Very crafty of you.”

“I am literally just sitting here.”

“Yeah, but in a crafty way. You can’t augment or upgrade Class Passives with started methods, is what matters. A Class Skill functions exactly like a normal Skill, except it doesn’t take a slot.”

“That seems…really strong.”

“It can be. But it’s usually balanced out by the fact that a Class Skill is almost always needed to make said Class function. Like how a Firestorm needs resistance to their own flames not to be a suicide Class.”

“Huh. Okay.”

Steven started to ponder the new information when the System butted in.

“Wow. Ignoring me? I didn’t even say ‘System out’ before you dismissed my presence like a common errand boy. Rude.”

“…Have more interesting things to say, loser.”

“…System out.”

Taunting the all-powerful intelligence that controlled their lives may not have been the best idea, but he thought he’d heard laughter in its voice at the end.

Well, if the next room was full of Unique Creations waiting to tear them apart, the others could blame him.