. . .
*Ding*
“*koff-koff-hkk-KOFF!*”
I come up to me being folded like origami and with my face mashed against freezing pavement. Not the most comfortable position nor pillow known to man, but what can you do? I turn on my back.
For 5 solid seconds, I can’t remember my name… DAVID! I’m David. I was doing SOMETHING at school, but then there was a hard cut to white-red, then to nothingness. Wait, wasn’t I just inside the courtyard? How the hell did I get here??
And then, the highlights of my day return. Everything I chalked up to mental illness with some stress on top…
And THAT, ladies and gents, means…
…that it’s all real…
“Pff— hahahah— OW, fuck!” A wave of pain radiates from my torso, and just like the world-class doctor that I am, I decide to see what’s wrong.
…
It does NOT require my level of expertise to see that there’s A GIANT FUCKING SMOLDERING PATCH OF BURNT MEAT!! “Nononono— what the actual FUCK—!”
My uniform front is just FUCKING gone, and what’s left is a charred black spot curling into red, with glossy edges. “Is that skin? Is that my skin?!” I slap my hand away because TOUCHING IT would be the dumbest SHIT I could do!
So instead of self-harming, I clamp both palms on the cold stone and breathe small, shallow breaths because big ones started to hurt...
I need a hospital…
No, wait, what if defibrillators, needles, and MORPHINE all came to life and are terrorizing the staff? What if there are DOZENS of people just like me getting the same idea? And then they all just get finished off by the evil, hot nurses covered in bandages?
NAY!!
I just needs—
“Hhngh…” —to—
“…aaAGH!” GET THE FUCK UP!!
“Dhhhhrgh…!!!”
Nope.
FUCK that, THAT HURTS SO freakin baaad…
*Ding*
Oh hey, it’s that useless blue box! You sure picked the greatest time to intervene, didn’t you, champ!
Alright, how hard would it be to copy a cockroach’s walk? Let’s see if we can—
*Ding*
“Oh, super! Not… I’m in the middle of doing the reverse bear crawl in a really awkward manner, so just… mute yourself a bit!”
*Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap*
OHGOGOHGODOHGOD!!! If those were the Gnomes on a Search-and-Destroy, then by all accounts, it’s curtains down!!
“Shit, shit, shit.” Alright, now or never!
I ‘lift up’ from the ground and start doing not the most awkward, but the worst insect impression known to mankind. I’m just dragging myself along the road using only my legs and going God knows where… Every time my shirt remnant peels off, i feel colder and colder…
OH SHIT, I can see the Pidge-things circling the skies…!!
“Come on, brother man!” I whisper to myself. “We’ve played through Bloodborne with a broken controller, once. You can handle a little physical trauma…”
*Ding*
Would you shut THE FUCK UP!! I am having a MEDICAL EMERGENCY here, and I don’t need you RINGING in my ear!
…
Thank you…
Wait, why is my shirt really moist all of a sudden? And did I just shit myself?
I throw my head back and manage to catch some TRASH. FUCKING EW EW EW EWWWW!!!!
*Tap-tap-tap* FUCK IT! Beggars can’t be choosers!! I switch gears and pseudo-power-walk deeper into the shit.
I made it behind a dumpster, just as the tiny footsteps grew louder.
The smell is… well, not great. It’s a dumpster smell. What did you expect, a lavender and lemon aroma? But right now, eau de garbajé is the least of my problems…
I press my head against the rough brick wall, feeling individual points of pavement digging in my skull, and I also cross my legs, so that they don’t get pulled or chewed…
The cold is actually nice on my feverish skin, though my teeth are starting to chatter. Is that shock or just the temperature? Maybe it’s both? Or maybe I’m a closeted masochist that loves pain and thrill and other edgy shit…
From my vantage point, I can see through the bars of the courtyard gate. There are… tiny shadows moving around. People? Yeah, unlikely, given the current state of affairs… Jesus, how many of those things ARE there?! Did lil’ man call all his friends??? What a little fucking bitch!
“Oh yeah, says the scared retard that uses garbage as a hiding spot…” I mutter.
…
What the SHIT do you mean!!!! Gimmie my Necromancer Class, you fucking scammer!
The box didn’t respond to my mental screams. Instead, it changed its bright-white words into something else…
All that word salad just to basically tell me to go fuck myself and no, I’m not getting that sweet Necromancer Class…
“PFFT! HahahaHOOOW!!” The laugh jumps up before I can stop it and punch-stabs me in the chest so hard my eyes water.
Of course. Of course! It couldn’t have been ‘Berserker’ with big muscles and bigger anger issues or the douchebag ‘Bard’ with unmatched swagger, nay.
I’m trash, even in the eyes of whatever cruel God made this System…
Thinking about it made me realize. The world is ending or whatever and people are also probably getting all sorts of cosmic powers, and mine is just to… accumulate things?
Classic. Cute. Just what the doctor ordered…
Fucking Hoarder
Just as I imagine what life could have been with Necromancer, the blue panel hits me with this pearl…
I clench my jaw.
What a dumb question. Maybe it’s because of how dumb it is, I can perfectly see the ultimatum right before my eyes.
‘Get this or get nothing at all…’
In an extraordinary world, being ordinary is a fate worse than death…
Fuuuuck…
Defeated and miserable, I muttered while looking at the grey sky. “Yeah, sure, do what you want…”
[Generating flavor text…]
…
H…huh?
…
. . .
“Wuh… Wait a goddamn minute… This is… a Necromancer reskin?” I mutter.
This is… what I wanted…?
The Hoarder seemed like a hyper-focused version of the summoner Necro, exactly what the doctor ordered.
Who gives a shit about Bone Spear and Bone Spirit? The minion is where the money's at, the bread and butter, the icon! Take it out from the formula, and it's just a wannabe Sorceress.
…
“I'm not alone.” I say as I look dead ahead at the panel. “I love my friends n’ family and they love me back. I have so much to lose and nothing to gain.” Okaaay, the last part may not have been so right, but my point still stands. “And I'll prove it to you! I’ll prove it so, so hard… So yeah, let’s do it!!” I say as I look at my old high-school!
…
“That’s it?” I hoped I’d be tossed in a tutorial or have the blue box play a video that explains the situation or how to use it, but I guess not…
Or maybe yes…?
“Escape!” Okay, worth a try… “Settings!” Fuck you, that one always works! Is there aaaa… “Manual!” Aw c’mon, that SHOULD have been it!
What else, what else, hmmmm…
“Slash help?
“THAT WORKED?!?”
I clap a hand over my mouth and hope that nothing heard me. But holy shit, though~~~! What were the fucking odds? All those countless nights nights spent learning Minecraft commands were FINALLY paying off!!
Okokok, we can experiment and mess around with the other stuff AFTER regrouping with the students and teachers that barricaded themselves in.
I hope Milo made it back inside…
“Status.”
There it was— my entire existence boiled down to numbers and Skills. If this wasn’t real life, I could swear I was in a hyper-realistic RPG! Actually, maybe I can call the new world a video game with all the Classes, Monsters running around, the DUNGEONS that my Class mentioned, and let’s not forget, fucking QUESTS AND FORUMS—!!
So yeah, it may not be that far off from the mark.
“Hoarder…” I whisper. Since I got this Class, I wonder how many people chose Necromancer and got the same thing… Will the Earth be covered in Undead…?
But then my eyes drift down to the next alarming bit of information. Six HP. SIX!! Out of thirty! I’m practically a walking corpse myself…
How strong could Lil’ man even be to deal this kind of damage? A better question is how the hell do I get my HP back to full…? If there are no health potions and I have to rely on Clerics, then me and the rest of the people are screwed… Here’s hoping it refills over time…
I look for the wound, but it’s GONE!! I repeat, it’s fucking GONE, like I never got hit by an industrial kamehameha in the first place!! “Hah—! Hahahah…!!”
I guess it’s safe to assume that HP is used as a cushion—NO, a bulletproof vest that takes the brunt of the attacks and makes sure you don’t get really fucked over in the long run!
SO BASICALLY, Classers have a pseudo-healing factor. NEAT!!
Ooh, but could I regenerate a lost limb? An eye? If I had a handicap before the awakening, am I stuck with those things for life, or does the System take care of it?
…Let’s just put a pin in that and move on…
I peer closer at my Attribute Scores and I realize just how sad and small they are.
I am, by no account, a Gym-goer, but FIVE is too little, no?! What is this, the Stat Value of a particularly ambitious hamster?! I flex my arm and the not-impressive muscle barely shifts beneath my skin. “I could’ve sworn I was at least a seven…”
My Dexterity, on the other hand, looks decent. That tracks, I suppose. I’ve always had good hand-eye coordination from all the Souls Series and one or two rhythm games I dabbled in. And maybe my dance moves may have bumped the numbers a bit…
Endurance being the second-heighest Stat is also an enigma, but a helpful one. I’m not really built to run 2 gym fields without breaking a sweat, but maybe It’s because I stayed up late so many times? I dunno, best not to look a gift horse in the mouth…
Then there’s Energy… What the hell is Energy? Is that, like… stamina? Or is it the Stat that grows MP? But then, why would it be counted and Endurance… not? Maybe it’s a fusion between the two?
I get up and start jumping up and down a few times. Nothing changes on my Status Sheet.
I punch the air and throw a couple of haymakers and uppercuts I learned from Iron Mike HIMSELF! Okay, it was on Youtube, i admit…
I also start sprinting in place for thirty seconds until I’m panting.
But still, Energy remains at 5/5.
Either I’m wrong about the stamina theory or maybe it takes a lot of effort to bring it down. Too bad I need to do more tests out in the WILD and not go through a tutorial or watch a video on the panel about this shit!
But then, I get distracted by something FAR grander and more interesting and COOLER than just Attribute scores. Something that makes my heart beat a little faster despite my critically low HP.
NIRVANAAAAAAH~~~~~!
I can raise the dead… I could ACTUALLY RAISE THE DEAD!!! JUST like in the simulations OR in a fantasy novel! I can have my own Skeleton Warriors! And Mages!! And… zombies? Ghosts? Could I Raise the corpse of a vintage robot? Hmm…
It’d be cool to get one of those Driller Molemen to drill other monsters and moles. Or maybe I could also make it do secret passageways, cuz I told it to…?
“Heheheh~~! Further testing and samples are required~!”
I spin around, searching the area for anything dead. There’s gotta be something— a squirrel, a bird, hell, a human… But the small zone is clean of any critters and humans.
“Arise.” I say, pointing at a suspicious lump that turns out to be just a bag of trash mixed in with what I want to say is human blood…
Shit, what a surprise. I’m swimming in MP, but I have nothing viable to use it with. “Maaaan, this is like getting a Ferrari with no gas…” I complain like a little bitch.
Wait.
Wait a GODDAMN second~!
This is a VIDEO GAME apocalypse! Dumpsters are now LOOT chests! And what’s that behind?!
“Holy shit, baby, JACKPOT!!”
It makes PERFECT sense! In every RPG ever, you can loot barrels, crates and random containers for SICK gear! So why would dumpsters be exempt?
“Time to get the bread!” I rush over and grab the dumpster lid and YANK it open like I’m about to pull Excalibur from stone!
The smell hits me immediately—a wall of rot and regret and what might be old Chinese food from the Paleolithic era.
“Eugh, Jesus—” I gag, but I need to stay committed. FOR THE LOOT!!
I dig through soggy cardboard, something slimy I refuse to identify, what looks like a shoe but might be a dead cat—nope, just a shoe—and a whole lotta nothing!
“DAMNIT, bad pull…!” It’s alright, brother; can’t strike gold on your first.
My attention returns to my Status, particularly to those 6 free points glowing temptingly at the bottom.
The obvious play would be to dump them all in Endurance, but wouldn’t that be the ‘Bandage on a dead guy’ analogy all over again…?
Hold up, let’s do some scouting first.
…
I crouch by the rusty iron bars and the inner courtyard stretches out before me, patrolled by little tin soldiers that SHOULDN’T be scary but totally are, especially when each and every one of them has laser eyes.
“Inspect…”
The world dims slightly as a translucent red panel materializes in my field of vision.
“Well, ain’t you just a bucket of fun…” I mutter as I mentally file away the details.
That damage reduction is going to be a big problem for the entirety of my five points in Strength. And that fucking attack completely wipes me out, not that it needed to do much more to completely toast me…
I glance down at my own Status Sheet, which I don’t really know how to close…
Welp, Strength and Endurance are gonna starve today. If I can be just a little faster than the baddies, then maybe I don’t really HAVE to fight them.
Riiiiight…
I mentally pour all six points into my Dex Stat.
For a second, i don’t feel anything happen, and I worry I’ve made a colossal mistake. Then the world… shifted.
It’s like somebody’s been playing my life at 75% speed and they’ve hit the normal playback button. My field of vision increases, just a lil’ bit, and i’m capable of catching more things with my eyes.
I flex my fingers, surprised by how… precise it all feels. Like I could find a needle in the haystack or catch a fly mid-buzz!
The Tin Marchers that have been walking super clunky and weird along in the distance suddenly seem… more predictable. They’re still moving at the same speed, but my brain’s processing information at A MUCH bigger input, giving me precious microseconds of reaction time!
It’s no Herculean feat to watch something move better, but hey-ooo! You cain’t be building anything without a base.
All in all, Dexterity FUCKIN’ kicks ass AND was absolutely the right call.”
Now to put my shiny new Dexterity to the test! Lil’ man and all his tin block ain’t gonna kill themselves. I tell my Status to close and close it does.
Holy SHIT, my foot lands exactly where I want it to, right at the mid-rail of the gate! It’s like my body is automated. Just how CRACKED is Dexterity? Or the other Stats?
“Hihihi~~!”
One second I plant my palm on the top bar, then the next I’m floating over the gate in one smooth, cool and sexy motion. I’ve gone from ‘frail grandma’ to PARKOUR ARTISAN!! All in the space of a minute!!
As I keep pumping gas in my ass, I notice a Robot staring at me, SHIZA!!
“SNEAK ATTACK?!” Not even I know what the hell I’m doing as I scoop it clean off the ground. The thing is SUPER light, given how it’s all metal. It immediately starts to struggle with its little arms and legs, cutely thrashing around~!
I think it’s trying to laser-eye me again, but its head can only twist so much.
Alrighty then, time to play some tunes! I pull out my phone and—
It’s cracked and I can see its mechanical guts…
“HAAAAAAaaah…”
…
CORTEX, reroute ALL power to the music generator!
*Give ‘em hell, kid; by My Chemical Romance*
“duh-duh-duh-DUN-duh duh duh DUN-DUN!!”
Time to check out how this friendly fire works in this BITCH! I feel it softly vibrating in my hands, then I point lil’ man #2 at a cluster of his twins.
“Face forward, champ—!”
*PEWWWWWWW*
A HUGE beam of concentrated red energy bursts from his eyes and sweeps his tiny frame across the landscape.
[-6] [-6] [-6]
They connect with the backs of two Marchers, punching straight through the first and catching the second as it begins to turn and they glow cherry red.
“Hold still for the family photo~!” I say, proud and a little breathless, but the tiny BRAT in my hands doesn’t vibe with my creative direction.
It started wriggling more violently and determinedly than before and I MISS the other shots, dammit!
Also, one of his pincers manages to find my fingers and it crushes them together, hard enough to send a zing through my arm.
[-2]
“OW! Why you little—!”
I try to readjust my aim, but the captured Marcher gives one final, powerful twist and breaks free from my hands.
Uh-oh, i do NOT wanna see what happens next…
I kick it into the next gear and sprint to a bench and jump right behind it, just as the freed Marcher’s eyes swing toward me.
*SSSSZ—*
Ooh, if I was any taller, he may have managed to hit me in the haircut…
From my new vantage point/cover/shield, i can see the cluster turning their bodies in my general direction with their faces painted in that creepy smile.
The Marcher I dropped makes a really, really quiet chiming sound, with his chest buttons and whatever turning different colors. My stomach drops as I have a good idea what he’s doing…
The Rally Ping ripples through the courtyard like a dinner bell for the killer toys. I’ve got 2, maybe 3 seconds before—yep, nevermind, the cavalry has arrived. A trio of Marchers rounds the corners of the recreation area with newfound purpose and that delicious 20% speed boost they were so much in need of. Their heads swivel in perfect unison until those glowing eyes lock onto me.
They march toward me with that stiff-legged wobble of theirs, which is somehow both comical and menacing.
“Well, that’s not ideal.” I mutter. The chase is officially on…
“…bap bap bap BAH-DADADADADA!!“
I vault the bench and go STRAIGHT for the PUNT that PUNTS a Marcher trying to flank me.
*KLANG* *Crash*
[-3]
The lil’ guy flies and PINWHEELS into a plant, where it gets VERY interested in agriculture.
I close the distance to the lead Marcher in three long strides. Its eyes begin to glow but it’s too late for that. I plant my right foot and push off into the air! Time seems to stretch as I sail over the Marcher’s head and my shoe brushes against its little tin hat.
*PEWW*
The heat from its energy gaze gave off a comfortable warmth, surging up my belly and spreading.
Then I’m past, landing behind it with SO much grace and awe that it surprises EVEN ME! But there’s no time NOR plasma to waste! I crouch and reach for its silver torso and turn it towards one of his teammates that started winding up!
“Say cheese~!” I say as I point and click his head.
[Critical Hit — (-12)] [Critical Hit — (-12)] [Critical Hit — (-12)]
[+50 XP]
[Level Up]
[1 Free Skill Point]
[6 Attribute Points]
“HAHAHAH~!!” The lines drill through its buddy’s head and straight up BLOWS it up, making confetti of hot screws and paint mist AND some more points and Level, holy SHIT, can NOT believe that counts as my kill~~!!
I don’t have time to bawl my eyes out at my Status, because IT’S ABOUT TO GO DOWN!!
The surviving one, plus the rest, snap to me like flies to shit! I have less than a second to move.
My enhanced perception and cowardice feel like they’re working overtime to map every possible escape route. The space between the Marcher’s future beams is too wide and big if i run straight. Going left or right means certain death from at least one of them…
Dammit, I have to go all-in this bitch… “Let’s not fuck it up!”
I shave past the multiple lanes of searing light that bathe the world in red. One of them comes in REALLY close to to my left shoulder, so close that it’s really not funny… But then another misses my right hip by millimeters.
The walls of the school blacken and crack as the marchers' beams trace smoking lines across them. A split-second later, i would’ve gotten the same makeover…
“Haha, you’re TOO slow~!” I taunt, though my voice cracks embarrassingly on the ‘slow’. My heart hammers in my chest, a combination of exertion and holy-crap-I-almost-died adrenaline surging through me, and… and…
Excitement.
The Marcher I’d kicked into the planter is struggling to right itself with its little legs kicking in the air like an overturned turtle
Okay, GAME PLAN! I go for him and—
SHIT, my game planning is interrupted by the sound of more metallic footsteps approaching from the east wing of the courtyard. The Rally Ping was STILL on?!? Or did— oh no, SHIT!
Did others use that fuck-ass pseudo-alarm? Can it stack?! COULD THESE TINY SHITS ACHIEVE WARP SPEED?!?!
NOT. GOOD!!
AT ALL!!!
“Fuuuuuck, no rest for the wicked…” I mutter and I shake my arms and legs. The DEX boost was definitely the right call. Pumping points into anything else would’ve turned me into a pile of ash by now. Matter of fact…
“Hooah…” My muscle feel so jittery and electric…
I scan the area for my next opening. These toys might have me outnumbered, but I’ve got them outmaneuvered. For now, at least.
The Marcher’s eyes immediately begin to recharge with that ominous red glow once more.
Time to move!
I bust out the ol’ dance move, just for this special occasion, as SO many lasers fly and miss me. Hell, I managed to do the splits WITHOUT castrating myself—amazing!
Here’s the weird thing about Dexterity, though— My body’s making decisionsa a half-second before my brain can even think!
I spot a gap between two Marchers that just fired their beams, their little mechanical bodies stuck from the recoil. Perfecto!
I knife through the pocket sideways, one hand skimming the flagstone for balance, then pop into a cartwheel that carries me over a third metal gremlin that was about to fire.
I give it a good kick, but instead of punting it away, I make it launch right in my hands. I jump in the air as well and I hook it in my palms! Mid-hop, I wrench its chin toward the original pile.
*vrrr—*
“GET SOOOOOME!!”
*PEWWWWWWW*
[-6] [-6] [-6] [-6] [-6] [-6]
[+50 XP]
NICE, this time around, i manage to unload all that plasma in one Robot!
The Marcher in my hands vibrates more intensely from the pain of killing one of its own. That or maybe it wants to kill me even more.
“Sorry not sorry.” I tell it as I toss it like a soccer ball towards some Marchers who look wound up.
[-4] [-6] [-6] [-6] [-6] [-6] [-6] [-6] [-6] [-6] [-6] [-6]
“STRIIIIIKE~~~!” I shout as not only all of the Marchers get hit and collapse, but they also shoot their lasers at each other!!
But I’m so full of energy that I just CAN’T stay IN ONE PLACE!! I’m back on the move, pushing off hard to my left, away from the fallen Marchers and the approaching reinforcements. My enhanced reflexes let me change direction mid-stride without losing speed! Something like that would’ve sent me sprawling face-first to the ground, breaking my ankles or both!!
The soft chime of a Rally Ping erupts from the hedge, straight from the Robot that I turned into a soccer ball.
I glance over my shoulder and immediately wish I hadn’t. At least ten more marchers are reentering the courtyard from various windows.
A quick mental tally tells me that I’ll get buried by the toys or that I’ll make a goof and these guys will be there to get a good shot, sooner rather than later…
“Maaaan, this was supposed to be a quick in-n’-out job.” I complain to the Robots. “But you fuckers just HAD to put sticks in my wheels!”
But complaints won’t get me inside the building. And STANDING most definitely won’t keep me alive.
The front entrance is 40 meters away, give or take. If I can make it through those doors, I might find a bottleneck where these little machines can’t swarm me.
Speaking of which, the courtyard had become a mechanical convention. I count twenty— no, twenty-two Marchers. They’re spreading out in such a way, either by luck or really good coordination, that all major ‘paths’ toward the building’s entrance are just… clogged.
“This is fine…” I mutter sarcastically. “Everything is completely fine.”
There is a way, but it’s really risky and, I dunno, pretty ballsy.
It’s going to take SOME gymnastics I definitely wasn’t capable of an hour ago. But now? Now it just might work.
I take one deep breath, then explode from the dead corner, running at top speed toward the eastern wall.
6 Marchers try to cut me off.
Ten meters to the entrance. 8 more appear from outta thin air, RIGHT in my path!
8 meters. Each and every blast from the past snap all their heads at me. NOT GOOD!!
5 meters… They all started winding up at the exact same time, with those little red dots intensifying like demonic CHRISTMAS lights!
3 meters!!
*Vrrrrr…*
ONE!!!
*PEWW* *PEWWW* *PEWWW* *PEWWW* *PEWWW* *PEWWWW*
I jump on the bench i used earlier and from there LAUNCH to the sky! I think I twist and turn every second whenever I spot some red. So this is how it feels at a 90’s disco!
The world slows down for a fraction of a second as I sail above it all. The Marchers’ mechanical faces remain frozen in those permanent smiles, but I swear they look frustrated.
“TOO SLOWWWWW~~!” I call down to the grey ants because apparently near-death experiences make me an asshole.
I manage to reach the vent on the first floor, about an arm's length long. In normal circumstances, trying to land on that would be FUCKING retarded and borderline suicidal.
Not today, though, not today…
SWISH, CRINKLE, POW, WOOOW!! The russian judges ALL give me a 10 for connecting this BITCH. For one glorious second, I feel like everything that I set my mind to can be done.
With glorious parkour. MY glorious parkour!!
But I can’t stay. 10 Marchers bellow are already adjusting their aim upwards.
So I jump!
Don’tbreakyourbackdon’tbreakyourbackdon’tbreakyourBAAACK!!
I pull my legs in to my ribs and assume the bouncy-ball stance.
…
I transition from roll to crouch to standing run without breaking stride nor MY BACK AND LEGS!!!
“Did you see that?” I laugh breathlessly. “Not even Tom Cruise can—well, fuck me, I guess…”
My celebration is cut short as EVEN MORE fuckheads spawn!!
Yeah, so, the headcount is climbing faster than I could possibly thin it. For every Robot I slay, 50 more join the hunt.
This isn’t a battle of attrition I can possibly win, not when the enemy fucks and multiplies like rabbits!
Okay, new new NEW plan! Fuck the bottleneck and fuck these robots! If they can just go and call on their fellow Marchers, on and on and FUCKING on, then I say it’s free game for everyone else to do the same, myself included!
Assuming they weren’t fried by their plasma beams… No, that’s HORSESHIT!! If I can do it, then even a toddler could!
After all the acrobatics, Robots and their lasers, I reach those doors…
*Vrrrr…*
Behind me, the whine of charging weapons reaches a fever pitch. I can practically feel the heat building up… in about a second, the entire threshold is going to become ground zero for a radioactive light show that I DON’T wanna be a part of!
My hands shoot up for the handle, but the doors are LOCKED!!
“Holy fucking shit, are you taking the PISS—!!”
*PEWWWWWWWWW!!*
“YES!!!”
The interface disappeared, and a soft click came from the doors. There’s no time to go for the handle again, so I do the only sensible thing.
I throw myself through the doorway with every ounce of strength my enhanced body can muster.
My leap is less Olympic athlete and more panicked cat. But it’s enough!
I hit the floor on the side in a tumbling roll that my shoulder manages to brush off, more or less.
My high-school definitely changed, but there’s no time to catalogue it all. I see the Marchers already reaching for the threshold!!
I scramble on all fours like a dog and SHUT the door in their fake FACES!!
…
*Siiiigh…*
Yet another close call, brilliant! Brilliant…
My enhanced senses are still operating at full capacity. The entrance hall went full… steampunk but it was made for kids, with so much copper and painted gears on the walls. Oh shit, even the trophy hall has scrap instead of ACTUAL trophies!!
…
“mHHmhmhm~…!” This fuck-ass world, man~~~! Can’t even catch your breath for a second~! It’s gonna be a good one…
It’s gonna be so good~~~!
