The Alchemist Chapter 1

Sorry about all the new stories I'm starting. I'm just gauging my own interest in them before continuing. Here's the start of a new story.

Chapter 1

It was in my first year of university as an engineering student. I was walking to school one morning and caught sight of a man running at me. He pushed me aside as he ran past me, causing me to stumble, and step out into the street, at which point I was hit by a careening truck and my life was ended unceremoniously.

Upon opening my eyes, I was greeted with an open black room, lit by an unknown source. At its center was a throne with a grey shadow sitting on it. The shadow leaned forward.

“Markus Peters,” said the being. “You have been chosen to participate in a program designed for those who have come to untimely deaths.”

“Um, okay?” I said. I looked around the infinite room. “I’m dead, aren’t I?”

“Indeed,” said the being. “You died in an accident. We are giving you one more chance.”

“Okay,” I say. I didn’t have to think about it. “I’ll take it.”

“Hm,” said the being. “You have a good attitude about this. I will give you a choice of boons that you can bring with you into the next world.”

A gigantic tome appeared in my hands, opening to the first page.

Watermancy. The ability to manipulate water at will.

The rest of the book, as I flipped the pages, was filled with all sorts of superpowers.

“What kind of a world am I entering?” I asked.

The being chuckled. “A world with a demon lord,” he said. “You can extrapolate what you will from that.”

“So, it’s a fantasy setting?” I said.

The being said nothing.

“Okay,” I said. “I think I have what I want.”

“Hm?” said the being. “Do tell me.”

“Alchemy,” I said. “This looks like a good skill.”

“You certainly are an engineering student,” said the being. “Very well. You shall have the power of alchemy alongside you when you go on your mission to defeat the demon lord.”

“Wait, I have to defeat him?” I said.

And then the world blinked out of existence. I stood in an open field, my hair moving in the breeze. I scratched the back of my neck. “Okay then?” I said. “What next?”

Perhaps I should try out this whole alchemy thing, I thought. I pressed my hands against the soil and felt, in that moment, all the elements that were dispersed throughout the ground, the trees, and the boulders forming the clearing. From Gold to Yttrium, I could count the elemental concentration down to the milligram.

Well, this is useful. Not only could I see the elements, I could also manipulate them. So, I drew all the precious metals from the soil in the surrounding hundred yards—the limit of my ability—and had them coalesce into obelisks in front of me. I had in front of me a sizable amount of gold, silver, platinum, and a number of rare earth elements. Also, I gathered a large amount of titanium and aluminum.

I began to mix the elements to form alloys. The metal flowed like it was liquid, even though it wasn’t hot. Soon I had a number of alloys in front of me, of varying properties. I tried making a helmet out of steel and titanium, and succeeded. I then created for myself a mail shirt, a sword, and some boots and greaves. The metal formed into exactly the shape that I wanted it to. Even the intricate links of the chain mail shirt formed without much input from my conscious mind.

After putting on my armor, I made a compass with some of the magnetite that I had sucked out of the ground. I decided that going east was the best choice for now.

I’m not even sure that I can speak the local language, I thought. Well, maybe there was some sort of magic that could help me. Or maybe that god figure had done something about it. Whatever the case, east was the way to go.

I walked through dense forest, following animal trails where I could. The brush was familiar, but the flowers and fruits were not. There were some purple apple-like fruits hanging from short stubby trees, and then there were the greenish blueberries that had one big ball and lots of tiny ones. I didn’t eat any of them, but I did pick a couple of each, shoving them into a metal mesh bag I created on the spot.

By the time I made it out of the forest, I was starving. The forest opened out onto a large, wide field filled with crops. My first sign of civilization.

I walked down a dirt road until I could see a settlement in the distance. Its wooden palisade was short and looked like it had been battered recently. Two guards stood in front of the gate. I approached them.

“Hail!” said the guard on the left. “Let me see your passport.”

“Passport?” I said. “I don’t have one.” I checked my pockets. “Oh, wait,” I said. “I do.” I found a small booklet in my pants pocket that I had not noticed before. What a great, thoughtful addition that was.

I handed it to the guard.

“Very well,” said the guard. “You may pass.”

I entered the city through the gate. Immediately I was assaulted by the smell. Open sewers ran on either side of the street. I witnessed someone empty a chamber pot out the window. The street was narrow and the buildings seemed to loom over it, cutting off much of the natural light. The people who were passing by me were wearing tattered clothes and looked unhappy.

This was not a good place to be, I understood. The city was probably experiencing some hard times.

Well, I had a pack full of precious metals, so I could at least sell some to a pawn shop or something. I wandered the streets until I found a store with a sign that looked promising. I entered.

The interior was filled with furniture and antiques. Valuables were behind the counter. A man with a long beard and beady eyes napped in a chair. Upon my entrance, he opened his eyes.

“Yes?” he said. “I haven’t seen you around.”

“No,” I said. “I’m new here.”

“Hrph,” said the man. “What have you got in there?”

“Some gold and precious metals,” I said. I put my bag on the counter.

The man looked through the various bars. He picked up a bar of the rare earth metal lanthanum. “What kind of a metal is this?” he asked. “I’ve never seen anything like it before.” He took out a touchstone and scratched the bar against it, leaving a metal streak. “Hm,” he said. “This is a new kind of metal. It doesn’t match anything I know of.”

“It’s called Lanthanum,” I said. “A rare earth metal.”

“Rare earth?” said the man. He shook his head. “Never heard of them.”

Right, this was a medieval fantasy world. They wouldn’t know anything about rare earth metals.

“What can I use this metal for?” asked the shop owner.

“Various things …” I said. “Well, it looks pretty, doesn’t it?”

“Indeed,” said the shop owner. “I’ll pay you ten Cris.”

“I’ll take it,” I said. “What about the other stuff?”

“Gold prices are at twenty Cris a dunce,” said the shop owner. “And silver is five Cris a dunce.”

I pretended to know what a dunce was.

“I’ll sell it all to you,” I said.

“Very well,” said the shop owner. He got out a scale and began measuring my metals. “Two hundred and seven Cris for the whole lot,” he said. “How goes your mining claim?”

“Mining … Claim …?” I said. “Right! Yes, I’ve been working hard to dig this stuff … Up! Yes!”

The shop owner looked at me funny. “Well, getting this much should keep you going for a while.” He handed me a bag of coins. “There’s your payment. Come back when you have more of this … Lanthanum stuff.”

I bobbed my head up and down and backed out of the shop.

Well, that was unexpected. I hadn’t thought this through well enough. If I wanted to get by in this town, I would have to get better at hiding where my metal came from.

I found the nearest tavern and sat down at a table. After a long while, a tavern girl approached me.

“What will ya be havin?” she said.

“Um, how about chicken?” I asked.

“We ain’t go no chicken here,” she said. “Just perch.”

“Okay,” I said. “I’ll have the perch.”

Ten minutes later a small cooked bird was placed in front of me. It looked like one of those tiny chickens you would buy at the store, cooked as is.

I tried some of the meat. It was passable, and I figured, as hungry as I was, this wasn’t something to pass over. The meal as a whole cost three Cris. After finishing the bird and the side of potatoes I was about as full as I could expect to be.

Now I had to figure out where I was and what I was expected to do. I knew I had been summoned here because of a demon lord or something to that effect. But I, for one, was not a fighter and did not know how the power I chose would enable me to fight said demon lord.

Why did I choose the power of alchemy? Well, because it seemed cool.

I probably should have thought that through better.

I stood up from the table, paid for the meal, and left the tavern to wander through the streets. After a while I realized that this place was probably not as safe as the streets of my suburban home and tried to find a place to sleep.

I came across a small inn that looked safe and clean enough to crash in for the night. Entering through the door, I bought myself a room and dropped onto the bed as soon as I had entered.

As I stared at the ceiling, I began to feel a bit itchy on my backside.

Right, I thought. This is a medieval inn. Of course there would be bedbugs.

I thought for a moment, and then realized that I could probably create some pesticides with my alchemy power. So I did. I formed three chemicals that I knew existed in pesticides and coated the bed with them. Within five minutes the bedbugs were all dead.

Score one for the alchemy power.

A sound rose over the drum of the street. Raising higher and higher, it was the town’s church bell. Several horns blasted over the night. I sat up in my bed. People on the floors above and below me began to scramble.

What was happening now? I put on my clothes, and just in case, my armor that I had created earlier in the day.

I was just getting comfortable! I thought. Perhaps this was the demon lord I was warned about?

I went to the door and opened it, leaning out into the hall. The inn owner was walking down the hall and kocking on doors.

“Quick!” he said. “Get to the walls. They’re coming!”

I went out into the hallway. “What’s going on?” I asked.

“Orcs!” said the innkeeper. “They’re attacking!”

Great. The first night I’m here and I’m already faced with a life or death situation. I climbed the stairs to the ground floor and found a bunch of people congregating in the open front room. The fire crackled in the background.

A town guard leaned in from the doorway. “Anyone who is able bodied and can fight,” he said, “Get to the walls!”

Hum. This town probably has a standing force of guards. Why would they need a militia like this?

I went out into the street. People scrambled all around me. Were we really in danger? What would happen if the orcs broke through the flimsy palisade?

All I could do was wait and find out. 

Zombies in Space chapter one: The Mission

Chapter 1

I sit on a crate of ammunition in the drop pod bay. The battleship around me shakes as it enters the atmosphere. Everything appears smoky, like the world is subdued and waiting for rain.

Alice cleans her gun with a nonchalant expression, though I can see the glint in her eyes. Action, to her, is a release. She’s never been scared before a drop.

I place my gun on the crate and wipe a tiny smudge off of its surface. Bord looks at me and makes a slight nod. Yep, I know. This is the planet that his family lives on—though they are on the other side from where we’re dropping.

That damn Zola virus took over this planet too fast for the first responders. We haven’t even dropped in yet and we’re the last line of defense.

The metal shell of the drop pod pings as little pieces of debris strike its outer exterior. My seat shakes.

The ship’s gravity compensates for a sudden slowing, and I lean to the side to match.

The five of us in this bay make up squad nine. Me, Alice, Bord, Tenma, and Richard. Richard is the specialist, and the rest of us are dorks.

Though I can handle a plasma grenade like a pro.

Richard stands in the center of the bay, holding onto a rail from above. “We’re going in this not to drop zooks,” he says, “But to get samples from the Core.” He looks at each of us in turn. “I know your buddies are fighting on the ground. We’re not with them. This mission is of utmost importance to the war effort.”

“Damn whitecoat,” says Tenma, under his breath.

Richard shoots Tenma an exasperated glare. “I’m not the one who selected the team,” he says. “If it were up to me you lot would be my last picks.”

Alice spits without saying anything.

Richard sighs. “Once we drop, it’s down Kikitani Main straight towards the Core.”

“A suicide mission,” says Bord. He makes no attempt to hide it.

Richard grimaces. “We’ll make it through,” he says. “I’ll keep you all alive.”

I test my combat suit. Sealed. Putting my helmet on, I turn on my heads up display and select the settings I’m used to.

“We’re dropping in sixty!” says Alice, standing up from her seat. She walks to her drop pod, embedded in the wall of the bay. The pod opens its doors and she steps in.

Before the doors close, she salutes, a slight maniacal grin on her face.

Well. She always did love combat.

Bord and Tenma step into their respective pods. I’m the last one in, just after Richard.

Richard is still a trained dropper, after all.

The tubes hiss, and my pod drops out of the bottom of the cruiser. We’re at the highest layer of atmosphere. Fifty thousand feet until we hit the ground. The familiar feeling of falling surrounds me as I tune my instruments to keep my pod on course.

“Looking good, Blake,” says my in-house AI.

“J.A.M.E.S,” I say.

“Great to be dropping with you again. I’ve noted that your vitals are a bit stressed compared to usual.”

“Well,” I say, “This is anything but usual. We have a damn whitecoat to baby. And this is no place for babying.”

“He’s a dropper too,” says James.

“I know,” I say. “He just doesn’t feel like it.”

My pod rumbles. A streak of fleshy appendages sear by my observation port.

“Looks like they’ve broken out the welcome!” I say.

“Type twelve interceptor beasts,” says James. “Not too much to deal with. Alarius is under level one infection, after all.”

“That’s what makes me nervous,” I say, as the clouds break and I catch a glimpse at the Economopoulos underneath. Everything down there is on fire. Lots of fire, and little tiny dots running around. Both zooks and civilians, plus the local planetary guard. “They’re not advanced enough.”

James is silent for a moment. Then he speaks. “Well, nothing in my database indicates you’re in for a particularly hard time.”

“And your database is always right,” I say.

James pauses. “I am not very good at detecting sarcasm,” he says.

I say nothing, only adjust my course to align with my squad members.

“Approaching ten thousand feet,” he says. “Five thousand. One thousand. Deploying stabilizers.”

A jerk strikes me. The whole world blurs for a moment. Then my pod strikes the ground, sending up a wave of asphalt and concrete.

I kick out the door using the open mechanism and leap onto the street, training my gun on my surroundings.

Nothing. Nobody. Only the distant sounds of conflict.

“Are we off course?” I ask James.

“We’re exactly where we should be according to my data,” says James.

The other pods arrive a second later in a blast of debris. I shield my face from the dust.

Richard is the first to emerge. He is holding a standard issue blazer-rifle, pointing at the ground.

I approach him. “Are you sure this is where we’re supposed to be?” I ask.

Richard tilts his head. “Of course. The data is never wrong.”

Alice steps out of her pod next. Covered in her battle suit, she looks like a black specter coming out of an egg.

Bord and Tenma also step out of their pods in unison. We all look at each other for a moment. Then Richard motions down the street.

“That way,” he says.

“Sure,” I say. He’s not a superior officer, but he is the leader of this squad at the moment. His science brain should know something that I don’t.

We walk through the deserted street, passing cars that are abandoned and blown out. A couple of papers flutter between the sides of the road. Nobody. Nothing.

A single zook stumbles out of an empty doorway. Its mouth has been blown off, and its jaw hangs by a thread of skin. Its body is covered in a dirty workman’s outfit, coated with blood. Its eyes lock onto us.

“Contact,” says Bord. We raise our weapons.

“No,” says Richard. He steps in front of us. “I need to get a sample first.”

“Sample?” says Alice. “We weren’t told we had to babysit a damn zook!”

“I just have to get close enough to extract some fluid. And it has to be alive.”

“Alive?” says Alice. “It’s dead already.”

“You know what I mean,” says Richard. He takes out a complicated-looking apparatus with a gigantic needle at one end.

Tenma whistles. “Where did you pull that out of?” he says.

“It’s spatially collapsible,” says Richard. He then walks towards the zook.

The zook stumbles towards Richard, oblivious to what Richard is holding.

“Hold him down for me!” says Richard, to me.

I shoot the zook once in each foot. It collapses to the ground.

“That works,” says Richard. He approaches the prone monster and injects it with the needle. Black fluid files through the neck of the device. Richard then pulls the needle out and ends the zook with a shot to the head with his rifle. He looks at the fluid and smiles.

“I’ll be analyzing this. Guard the perimeter for ten minutes.”

The rest of the squad look around, then at me. I shrug. “We’re not in any hurry, and there’s no immediate danger,” I say.

Alice sits down and puts her rifle between her legs. “Well, if you see an army of zooks bearing down on us, call me.” Then she blanks out her helmet. Probably playing a hacked time waster game. Alice has always had that core of steel that allows her to play video games in a combat zone. And Bord facilitates her by downloading them to her suit software in the first place.

I sigh, and turn to Richard. He’s playing with the analysis device he brought with him, and I can see the black fluid moving between clear tubes.

“Just as I thought,” says Richard, after a long while. “This is a level three infection fluid.”

“It looked like level one from orbit,” says Tenma. “Have you ever even seen a level three planet?”

Richard looks at me quizzically. “No. There have only been two on record to reach level three.”

“I’ve seen one,” says Alice, shutting down her game. “This doesn’t look it. There’s not even the smallest amount of Z-glaze.”

“Cities like this have undercities,” says Richard. “Have we even seen what’s going on down there?”

Alice turns away. “It’s not our job to fight down there. There are specialists for that.”

“Anyways,” says Richard, looking at all of us, “I have reason to believe that the hivemind in this city is hiding its grasp for some reason.”

“We’ll be going there anyways,” says Alice. “Let’s kick its ass and ask it what’s going on.”

“Pretty hard for the five of us,” says Tenma. “It takes an army to bring down even a level one hivemind. This one might be level three.”

Alice scoffs. “We can handle it.”

“You grossly overestimate your own ability,” says Richard. “We’re not going there directly. There are other places where I can get my sample.”

“Sample this, sample that,” says Alice. “If it weren’t for my orders I would be with the real fighters.”

Richard shakes his head. “I can’t tell you that. It’s classified. Just know that this mission is crucial to the war effort.”

Alice turns away. “Then let’s get to it. I signed up to bean zooks, so let’s go bean some zooks.”

Richard’s lips curl up into a slight smile. “I can accept that.”

Alice begins walking down the street. She turns around, facing us. “So, are we going to get there, or what?”

The other three and I look at each other, and then follow Alice down the street. We reach an intersection with several layers of street topped by a four-way pedestrian bridge. The whole affair reminds me of my home planet, which was also covered in city.

We go up a couple of stairs and survey our route. There are a number of signs of Z-glaze creeping out of the cracks in the ground caused by an explosion of some sort. About a dozen zooks wander around the open street.

The rest of the droppers in our ship landed about two miles to the east. We’re alone, and it’s eerily quiet. I don’t know where a city’s worth of zooks has gone.

“We’ll take 101^st street south until we reach the undercity terminal,” says Richard. “After that we’ll take an underpath to where we need to go.”

“You have suspicions that there’s a level three infection down there,” says Alice, “And you’re bringing us?”

Richard shakes his head. “It’s not confirmed. The data I picked up could be an anomaly.”

Alice grunts, tapping the side of her blazer rifle. “I’ve never been called a coward. Let’s do this.”

I exchange a look with Bord, and we both nod. Whatever the situation, we’re going to follow orders.

Richard leads us down 101^st street until we reach an undercity portal. The entrance looks like a gigantic subway station. Where there used to be guards and soldiers, there are now empty kiosks and sparking, broken electronics.

Richard holds up his hand. “Just a moment.” He takes out a suitcase and opens it. Inside is a drone, about the size of a cat. Richard places it on the floor and it zips into the undercity portal.

We wait for about five minutes before Richard nods. “Looks clear.” He pauses. “No, wait. I’ve lost contact.”

An ominous echo reverberates through the underground chambers beyond the entrance. I flip my rifle off of safety, aiming it towards the darkness. A shadow flickers against the wall. Red mist seeps out of the cracks in the walls.

A rumble shakes the concrete. Claws skitter with the weight of a truck.

A monster bursts out of the entrance. Perverse, covered in tentacles, with white sharp fangs hanging at odd angles, it lunges at Richard.

Avarice: The Realm Chapter six: First Job

First Job

Grinding our way through the dungeon’s lower floors is a tedious, uninteresting job that involves killing infinitely-respawning monsters while following a repeating pattern that maximizes our kill rate and minimizes our expenditure of energy. I gain about twenty-five levels in the first week of grinding, and it takes me another three weeks to reach level fifty.

Fifty is the lowest that one can be and maintain a workable advantage in the “Player-Versus-Player” realm—which is, of course, my ultimate goal.

When I finally reach level fifty, I take a moment to celebrate and then return to Fort Lincoln via fast travel. It is there that I am to receive my first assignment.

I stand in the briefing room with some of the top brass at Fort Lincoln. They stand in a row around the projection screen.

A picture of a man appears on the screen. Pierre points to it with a laser pointer.

“This is Mandrake Signa,” says Pierre, “Known in-game as Mother of Death.” He clicks the presentation. “He is known for being able to plant bombs anywhere he touches and detonate them remotely.” Pierre clicks the presentation again. “As you can probably guess, the ability to create and plant bombs at will goes really well with the job of being a terrorist.”

“This man is responsible for five attacks on US soil,” says one of the brass standing against the wall. “And seven attacks on other countries. He has an INTERPOL arrest warrant out for him. However, INTERPOL doesn’t deal inside The Realm.”

“Right,” says Pierre. “Don’t underestimate this man. He has multiple accomplices, all of whom are dangerous in their own right.”

I salute. “I can handle him,” I say.

“We don’t doubt you can,” says Pierre. “Your track record is impressive. Three targets last year, twenty-two in total.”

“Thank you for that assessment,” I say.

Pierre nods. “Great. We’ll give you all the information we know about Mandrake Signa and let you do what you do best.” He pulls a paper file out of a cabinet. “Here’s the dossier,” he says. “One for Mandrake and three for his known accomplices.”

I take the files. “Is there anything else?” I ask.

Pierre shakes his head. “No. That’s everything we know.” He salutes. “Good luck.”

I leave the room and head to my personal room in the officers’ barracks. I lock the door and sit down at the room’s wooden desk. Spreading out the files in front of myself, I put up a cork board and begin sticking pins in it.

It looks like Mother of Death’s three accomplices are Ronald Delinsky, known as ReaperGoon; Brandi Knock, known as Ratsi; and Peter Draws, known as ColorfulAmber.

ReaperGoon is a watermancer who can produce high-pressure streams of water, enough to cut through flesh and bone. Ratsi can summon gigantic rats. ColorfulAmber can draw things on a piece of paper and have them become real.

Mother of Death’s goons might not be as difficult to take down, but I still need to keep my guard up. The things I learned about card battles while grinding in the dungeon will definitely affect how I go about my hunt.

I prepare a strategy. I’m going to take out Mother of Death’s three goons before I go after him. From what I’ve experienced, when a kingpin has powerful underlings, he’s more likely to run and hide and let his underlings do his work for him.

I plan on striking ReaperGoon first.

“Binder,” I say. I flip through my binder until I find the Unconnected Track card. It allows me to see the general location of a player. In order to see more detailed information, I would have to use the Tracking Beacon card and attach it to them. However, just knowing which part of The Realm they’re in is good enough for me.

It appears ReaperGoon is currently somewhere in the western portion of the Eastern Biome, somewhat near the entrance gates.

I head to Fort Lincoln’s fast travel tower.

“Roghponanov!” I say. A ball of light surrounds me a spirits me across the landscape. The desert turns into a post-apocalyptic city, complete with mossy buildings and rows of abandoned cars. I land at the fast travel tower in the center of Roghponanov, one of the two biggest cities in the Eastern Biome.

This is where the hunt begins. Right now, it’s probable that ReaperGoon does not know I’m coming after him.

The best way to deal with a mook is to kill them from a distance. Any Freax user worth their salt has a sensing barrier around them at all times, and as such can’t be sniped or killed in a surprise shooting. I myself am always watching for that sort of thing.

As well as this, I have to keep my identity anonymous. If the organization that supports a terrorist knows who I am and what I’ve done, they’ll go to the ends of the Earth to kill me. So far, I’ve been able to do my job without revealing my identity.

I meander through the city until I find what I need—an information broker. This incarnation of the trade is a man dressed in a pinstripe suit sitting against a pile of crates next to a clothing shop. I know he’s an information broker because of the mark above him, etched into the wood. It’s a universal symbol that brokers use to distinguish themselves.

I approach the man.

The man tips his hat. “How can I help you?” he says.

I show the small badge I have sewn into the inside of my undershirt.

The man’s lips curl up. “Of course.” He takes a cigar out of his pocket, cuts, it, and lights it. “What do you want to know?”

I lean against the shop wall. “ReaperGoon,” I say.

The man chuckles. “Ah, yes. Lots of people want the Goon dead.” He rubs his hands. “Fifty gold.”

I transfer the money. The information broker grins, taking a puff of his cigar. “Well now,” he says. “I seem to remember hearing that ReaperGoon is in the business of running an illegal unicorn brawl. Somewhere here in Ropov. If you head to the right establishment the owner might point you towards your target.”

“Unicorn brawl,” is say, rolling the name on my tongue. “I know you information brokers charge for everything, but I have to ask. What’s illegal about it?”

“I’ll give you this one for five silver,” says the man.

I flip him his money.

“Unicorns are one of The Realm’s protected species,” says the man. “The game’s own police system protects them and hunts those who harm them.” He shrugs. “But I guess there are shady applications for everything and everybody.” He flicks the ashes off of his cigar. “Anything else?”

“No,” I say. I turn away. “Ashente.”

“Ashente,” says the information broker.

We part ways, and I walk to the most seedy eating establishment I can find within half a mile of the broker. I find the Hidden Bowl, a remarkably dangerous-looking pub that is surrounded by ruffians and villains.

I walk past the gang of petty thieves around the door, watching my pockets.

“Steal,” I hear someone whisper.

“Binder. Counterspell,” I say. A small flicker of light sparkles around my binder. I turn to face the thief who tried to steal from me.

“Blinding light,” I say. Two orbs of light appear in front of the thief’s eyes. I then deliver him an uppercut that’s sure to break his jaw and send most of his teeth flying.

The little white bits of bone clatter to the ground around me. The thief collapses.

A big, burly man who must be the leader of the gang steps up to me, his chest puffed out.

“What was that for, dead meat?” he says.

I knock his teeth out, too, with a hard right hook. I don’t have time to deal with petty criminals.

The rest of the thieves surround me. There are five still standing.

I sigh, and conjure my trusty bantanum sword.

“Unless you want to know what bantanum looks like with blood on it,” I say, “You’d better back off.”

Two of the thieves pick up their boss by the shoulders. The whole gang backs off. “We’ll remember this,” says one of the thieves, and then the group peels away. The thief I hit first regains consciousness, looks around frantically, and then scrambles to his feet, sprinting into the street and around the corner.

I sigh and turn to the door.

A man in a red vest is leaning against the wall. “You have a way with a fist,” he says. “Those butt-licking pickpockets have been lingering here for weeks.” He grins. “Not that anyone inside is any more moral.” He winks. “I assume you’re not here for the booze.” He points to himself. “The name’s Reggie.”

I frown, trying my best to evaluate the man. “RoundTable,” I say.

“Well, Mr. Roundtable,” says Reggie. “Let’s get down to business. You want to buy some FB-twelve, right?”

“I have no idea what that is,” I say, “And I don’t want any.”

Reggie scoffs. “Well then, why else would you be here?”

“I’m looking for the unicorn fight club,” I say.

Reggie raises an eyebrow. “The location of that place is common knowledge around here,” he says. “Did someone pull a prank on you?”

“I’d appreciate it if you could tell me where it is,” I say.

Reggie points to something behind me. I turn around.

“That building?” I say. It’s a building that looks much like all the others in this post-apocalyptic biome.

“Yeah,” says Reggie. “You’ll have a great time. I recommend betting on James the Rabbit. He’s been on a losing streak, but I feel like his time is coming.”

“Thanks,” I say. I flip him a gold.

Reggie grins, and winks. “Well, if you ever do need any FB-twelve, come stop by.”

I cross the street and approach the building’s door. It’s a large steel construction, with a small slit at eye level. I knock.

The slit opens and I can see two bloodshot eyes. “Who’re you?” the man says.

“I’m here to bet on James the Rabbit,” I say. “I hear he’s going to start winning soon.”

The man behind the door chuckles. “Well, I’m not going to stop you from doing that,” he says.

The door creaks open. I pass through, past the fat man guarding it, and into a crowded open space with a rodeo-style arena in its center. The place is packed, and bright searchlights flit back and forth. Two unicorns are romping around the rodeo arena, kicking up blood-stained dirt. The crowd undulates every time a unicorn scores a hit.

A scabby man shuffles up to me, his one good eye flitting up and down my person. “Who’re ya bettin’ on?” he says.

I shake my head. “I’m—” I reconsider. “I’ll bet ten gold on James the Rabbit.”

“Eh, heh,” says the man. “Everyone seems to think Mr. Rabbit will come out of this one ahead.” He turns away, waving his crabbed hand. “Good luck!” He cackles.

I sit down at an empty seat near the back of the bleachers and watch the battle unfold before me for a minute. Then I stand up and tap the shoulder of the man sitting in front of me. He’s not wearing a shirt, and his chest is covered in alcohol.

“Whaddya want?” he says, his eyes glazed over.

“Who runs this place?” I ask.

The man spits. “Why’d I ever tell you that?”

I flip him a gold.

The man’s eyes light up and he seems to be pulled from some other world. “Well, ya really want to know, dontcha?” he says. He points up. I follow his finger and see a suite, covered by bulletproof glass, and through the glass I see the man himself, ReaperGoon.

Target acquired.

I flip the stoned man another five silver and then climb the bleachers until I am directly underneath the booth.

“Binder,” I say. I take the Periscope card and activate it. It splits into two parts, and I toss the camera half into the air where it floats just at the bottom of the window to the club.

I watch ReaperGoon drink wine and eat a succulent roast pig like he’s at a royal banquet. I guess being one of Mandrake Signa’s underlings has its bonuses.

I take the Footlock card and attach it to a Delayed Activation card. I then slip into an employees-only door and climb up a set of maintenance stairs.

There are no guards. It looks like ReaperGoon is being lax with his protections.

I stand next to the door to the club room. Opening it slightly, I peek through the crack and observe. It’s the same as before. ReaperGoon at the west corner with a woman on both arms, two underlings sitting at a table playing cards, and a stripper doing a pole dance in the south corner. Classic “bad guy lair” vibes. My target is ReaperGoon. While I am cleared to kill anyone who tries to attack me, I want to make as small a mess as possible. The two underlings probably haven’t done anything to merit death, and if they have it’s not my job to mete out justice for that.

I activate the Bug Familiar card and let it buzz into the center of the room. At my command, the bug explodes into a thick cloud of smoke.

I burst into the room. As I pass the room’s center, ReaperGoon comes out of the smoke and aims a fist at my face.

I activate the Footlock effect. ReaperGoon’s feet lock to the floor, and he faceplants into the concrete. I pull out an apprehension module, attach the wires, and ReaperGoon turns into a ball of light that is then sucked into the module. The module beeps.

Target apprehended. Bagged and tagged. I retreat out of the room before the smoke clears, and two minutes later I am safely on the street.

I won’t need to go through the whole information broker thing to get to the rest of my targets—the government can interrogate ReaperGoon and get info out of him.

I walk to the fast travel pillar and take out my Traveler’s Pass.

“Fort Lincoln,” I say. I am carried away in a pillar of light.

Avarice: The Realm Chapter Five: Dungeon Beginnings

Dungeon Beginnings

I climb to the top of a building so that I can get a better look at what Garnet calls ‘The Roving Keep.’ It does, indeed, look like a walking castle. The goblins still outside the city are rushing towards it.

Several causeways drop from the keep’s side and hundreds of large, bear-like creatures march out. The bears clash with the goblins in a large, ragged wave.

Garnet climbs up to the roof next to me. She slips her daggers back into her equipment belt. “Looks like we’re saved,” she says.

“Are those bears?” I ask.

“Bearfolk,” says Garnet. “The bearfolk and the goblins are mortal enemies.”

“Are they NPCs too?” I ask.

“Well, sure,” says Garnet. “As much as any non-player character here in The Realm can be considered one.”

We both watch as the goblins are routed by the bearfolk. The American and French armored cavalry pull out and assist the bearfolk from behind their lines.

Garnet puts her hand to her ear. “Yes. Right.” She drops her hand and looks at me. “Looks like our military didn’t take any casualties,” she says. “Though the French lost a few.”

“So the cazzies took the brunt,” I say.

Garnet sighs. “Yeah. But they know how dangerous this game is.”

I shake my head slowly and watch as our combined arms mop up the remainder of the goblins.

“I hope I don’t have to deal with any more of this,” I say. “I signed up to be an assassin, not a grunt.”

“Well, this is part of your job too,” says Garnet. “Defending the weak and all that.”

I shake my head. “Well. I’m just glad that we can keep moving along our schedule.”

Garnet turns away. “We’ll begin the grind tomorrow. For today, I think—”

Hob climbs up the building we’re standing on. “Hey!” he says. “There’s some sort of military puke who wants to see you guys!”

Garnet sighs. “It’s me they want. Just go buy some binder skins or whatever.” She climbs down the stairs to the roof, leaving me alone on the roof with Hob.

Hob puts his arm around me. “I misjudged you,” he says. “For a newbie, you definitely have the moves.”

“This isn’t my first combat scenario,” I say.

“I can see that!” says Hob. “As a gesture of our new friendship, I’ll treat you to some lunch!” He peels off and stands against the roof’s fencing. “The boys have been waiting for some fresh meat.”

“Ah, more Reball?” I say.

“Hah,” says Hob. “You beat me, but I’m the worst out of us.” He grins at me. “And this time we’ll put up something of value for the bet.” He walks to the stairs and begins to descend. “Meet me at the Graven Reball Parlor.”

I watch him go, and then turn to look at the helicopters buzzing around the city. I suppose that it’s because of them we survived with as few casualties as we did.

I turn to the stairs and descend from the building’s roof. After finding a town map posted on a billboard, I make my way to the Reball parlor.

The parlor is a small building with a large façade that evokes the neon signs of Las Vegas mixed with the back-alley red-light Hong Kong aesthetic. A clear signal that this is where ne’er do wells hang.

Oh well. I’ve been to worse places. I push my way through the door and into a dimly-lit dive-bar interior dominated by a dozen large reball tables. Most of them are occupied; I assume the cazzies who survived the battle are spending their loot money. I, too, obtained a sizable amount of gold from monster ‘drops.’ While I was fighting the goblins, whenever I killed one, a little ping notified me that I had earned some cash.

This is how video games work, after all. Kill monsters, get loot. I have enough that I’ll be able to handle the ‘something of value’ part of this event.

I approach the table where Hob is standing. He is flanked by a  burly-looking man; a thin, wiry man with a ruffled haircut; and a rather seedy-looking woman wearing a gaudy purple dress.

Hob shakes my hand as I approach. “This is Capo Two-Three-One,” he says pointing to the burly man. He points to the wiry man. “PeaksGold,” he says. He points to the woman. “Ramma.”

Ramma winks at me in a motion that, to me, is a bit off-putting. I really don’t know what she’s thinking. Capo grins, his arms crossed over his chest.

“I hear you beat Hob,” says Capo. “I’ll be your next challenger.”

I sigh. “Sure,” I say. “Binder.” I pull out my reball starter kit. “Drop.” The box appears on the table, ready to use.

  Capo summons his own reball army. “Let’s put something up to make this game more fun,” he says. “How about that armor you’re wearing?”

I shake my head. “I don’t think the brass would appreciate me gambling away their assets.” I hold out my hand. “But I’m a conjurer. I can summon quite a bit of useful stuff.” A small bar of silvery metal drops onto the table. It is coated with a purplish sheen.

“Bantanum, eh?” says Capo. “That’s quite a bit.” He chuckles. “All right. And I’ll put up this.” He places a dagger on the table. “A Regalus Plus Two.”

Hob scoffs, looking at Capo. “You’re really going to put that up? You don’t even know his power level yet.”

“I’m going to win,” says Capo. “And I only need one more bar of bantanum to complete my armor upgrade.”

I set up my army using what I learned from my previous game. Defend the flanks, protect the tanks, pierce enemy lines with heavy infantry. Even with the starter kit, which seems to be quite underpowered, I manage to defeat Capo in under ten minutes.

Capo, upon realizing his defeat, slams his fist against the table. “Seriously?” he says. “I’ve been playing reball for five years and this newbie with a starter kit beats me this badly?”

Hob pats Capo on the back. “It’s fine,” he says. “I warned you, and this is what you reap.”

Capo rubs his temples. “The knife is yours. Do with it what you will.”

I pick up the knife and the bar of bantanum. “Card,” I say. Both objects turn into card form. “Binder,” I say, and then I slip both cards into their slots.

“Since I won,” I say, “Would you direct me to a place where I can buy a skin for my binder?”

Capo sighs. “Sure.” He turns to Hob.

Hob nods. “I’ll come with you,” he says.

Hob and Capo lead me out of the reball parlor and through a series of winding streets. A small, hole-in-the wall shop is nestled in between two houses. A battered sign reads “South A Skins.”

“This shop is run by a player,” says Hob. “In The Realm, it’s possible to customize skins. This shop sells the best of the best.”

We step through a battered door and into a dusty, cluttered shop floor. A single player is reclining in a chair behind the counter, sleeping.

“Hey, Rick!” says Hob.

The man whom I assume is Rick jolts out of his slumber. “Oh, heya, Hob,” He says. “You here to pick up the skin you ordered?”

“Well, yeah, that,” says Hob, as he approaches the counter. “Plus I have to get this newbie a classy skin.”

“Binder, shop!” says Rick. His binder is decorated with an intricate tribal pattern. “Hm, right. Here’s the dragon fire skin you ordered.” He slips a card out of his binder and hands it to Hob. Then Rick looks at me. “What kind of skin strikes your fancy?”

“Um, I like cars,” I say. “You have any skins with sports cars on them?”

Hob shakes his head. “No,” he says. He pauses. “But wait. I do have a couple of binders with the logos of famous car companies.” He flips through his shop binder. “Ah, yes.” He takes out a card. “The Etemna logo.” He hands the card to me.

I look at it. Yes, it is the Etemna logo—a picture of a falcon carrying an engine.

“I’ll take it,” I say.

“That will be five gold,” says Rick.

I pay him his gold and receive the skin card. “Drop,” I say. The card puffs into a burst of colored smoke and is gone. “Binder.” My binder is now covered with a sleek, well-made skin presenting the Etemna logo on each face.

“I like it,” I say. I put my binder away.

Hob chuckles. “Classic,” he says. “Now you’re a real player. Welcome to the club.”

I thank Rick and head out into the street. Hob and Capo part ways with me, and I wander towards the center of town.

The cleanup from the goblin invasion is going on wherever the goblins managed to break through the walls. The portions of the palisade that were destroyed are now being repaired, and scaffolding covers most of its surface area.

A large building built with flowing architecture and covered in shining glass is at the center of the town. Lots of people are going in and out. I approach it out of curiosity. The sign hanging above the door, in big letters, reads Magic Inc. Below, in tiny letters, it reads South A Branch.

I push my way through the door and enter into a large, box-chain style sales floor filled from end to end with racks of cards. I wander past the entrance area and begin to browse some of the cards.

Reyvan Dagger +2; Selurian Armor; Box of Secrets; Common Sponge; there seems to be no end to the variety of objects that can be turned into cards.

I pick up a Bag of Apples and two Loaves of Bread for the low price of three silver. I slip the cards into my binder—who knows when I’ll need them?

After browsing around of a bit longer I leave Magic, Inc and head towards my lodgings.

I spend the rest of the day performing my Freax meditation and training as best as I can in the small room I’ve been given. I go to sleep at my normal time and wake up feeling refreshed.

When I leave my room and head to the inn’s common area, I see Garnet leaning back in a chair and enjoying her breakfast.

“You’re up early,” she says. “I wasn’t planning on waking you up for another half hour.”

I sit down across from her. “I usually get up even earlier than this,” I say.

“Today’s the day we start our grind,” says Garnet. “Since you’re a level one, we’re going to start at the bottom and work our way up.” She waves over the server. “Get this man a hearty breakfast.”

The server nods and, two minutes later, brings out a piping hot plate of pancakes, sausage, and eggs.

Even though The Realm is technically some sort of illusionary game formed from pure Freax, the food definitely tastes real. I finish my plate without much aplomb.

Garnet stands up, shouldering her crossbow. “Let’s go,” she says.

I follow her out of the inn and into the streets. For the first time, I head directly towards the monolith that dominates the skyline. The dungeon.

And soon, we enter.

The League of Displaced Magical Individuals Chapter One: Magic is Super

Magic is Super

Sunflower sprinted down the track, ahead of the crowd, just barely, keeping herself regulated. The teacher blew her whistle twice, meaning that the set was over. Amber, standing at the white line, clicked her stopwatch and smiled broadly. Sunflower slowed to a stop and returned to the point where Amber was standing, looking at the stopwatch over her shoulder.

Amber was a slender girl, brown hair, blue eyes, a real beauty whom most of the guys in the class had a crush on. Sunflower wasn’t quite as pretty as she was, in her opinion, and she always looked up to Amber as being the model of beauty.

Sunflower checked the stopwatch. 6.023 seconds. A new class record. Amber gave Sunflower a high-five, and Sunflower just barely remembered to keep her strength in check. For fun, she matched her own fingers to the fingers of Amber in the split second before her hand impacted. A perfect high-five. Amber pulled her hand back, rubbing it.

“Do you have to high-five that hard?” she said, smiling tenderly.

“Your turn,” said Sunflower, grabbing the stopwatch out of Amber’s hands.

When P.E. class was over, Amber walked to where Sunflower stood at the water fountain and poked her in the back. “See him?” she said, pointing to Drake Baxton.

“I do,” said Sunflower, glancing that way, then glancing back at her hands, embarrassed. They had made eye contact.

Amber squealed, quietly. “He made eye contact with me!”

“No, it was me,” said Sunflower, and then she covered her mouth with her hands. “I mean, it was you. It had to have been you.”

Amber punched Sunflower on the shoulder. “You know who it was.”

“Both of us,” said Sunflower, sagely nodding her head.

“Exactly,” said Amber. “We can totally share him.”

Sunflower laughed, and then stepped away from the drinking fountain. She sat through school for the rest of the day, and when the day was over, she walked over to the school gate, made sure that no one was watching, and took a turn away from her home, towards the inner city. She stepped into an alleyway, found a small water pipe that had long since outlived its purpose, and pulled a sword out of its depths. It was a long katana, expertly forged, ancient as the wind and agile as the breeze. She pulled it out of its sheath and the light shimmered on its surface, covering the walls in pieces of reflected brilliance. She swung it, once, cutting through the air with a metallic sound. Then she sheathed it and strapped it to her back. She pulled a superhero mask out of her pocket, putting it on. She had made it herself, and it covered just enough of her face to make her unrecognizable, just the eyes and the portion around the nose.  

She jumped and landed on the roof of the nearest building. Running, she sprinted across the rooftops, dodging TV antenna and satellite dishes, expanding her mind into the world around her, reading the thoughts of the people below. She found a distressed thought and jumped down, doing a summersault in the air, landing in an alleyway behind a parking lot next to the local supermarket. A woman was fighting a man, and it looked like the man was about to rape her. Sunflower flickered over to where the man was and tapped him on the neck once with the butt of her sword.

“Hey,” she said. “You should stop that.”

The man jumped back in surprise, and Sunflower stepped out of the way of his stumbling grab for her. She pinned him to the wall.

“What were you thinking of doing?” she said. She glanced at the woman who had been assaulted. “It’s okay, ma’am, I’ve got this.” She punched the man in the head just enough to knock him out, tied his hands up, and pushed him into a corner.

“Call the police,” said Sunflower, looking down at the man’s pants. They were unzipped. “Say Rose helped you.” She kicked at the man’s groin, once, and the man’s entire body reacted, toppling over to the side.

The woman nodded once, meekly. Sunflower smiled, winningly, making sure her mask was still on straight with a touch. Then she kicked against the ground, shooting up, hovering in the air for a moment, adjusting her momentum and landing on the roof of the nearest building. She stood up. One woman saved, one bad guy put away. She flew across the rooftops, scanning the surrounding area, helping the city out for the rest of the night.

The next day, at school, Drake approached her in the hall. She turned to him, her face flushing, and opened her mouth to speak. She closed it, thinking that perhaps he was making eye contact and a suggestive motion to someone behind her.

“Sunflower,” said Drake, stopping right in front of her. Sunflower stammered, searching for words. He was three inches taller than her, and she had to look up to meet his gaze. When she did, she almost swooned. He was close. So close.

“Y—yes?” said Sunflower. “Why do you need me?”

“Meet me after school behind the gym,” said Drake. “Right when the bell rings.” Then he smiled, and stepped away, waving. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

Sunflower sighed, putting her hand to her chest, and closed her eyes, savoring the moment. She was surprised when she heard the sound of a dropping backpack behind her. She looked.

There was Amber, standing, her mouth open, tears not in her eyes yet but threatening to come. She wiped at her nose. “He finally choses you, doesn’t he?” she said, her voice filled with pain and venom.

“I—I don’t know,” said Sunflower. “I don’t know what he wants to speak to me about.”

“Fine,” said Amber. “We always knew this would tear apart our friendship.”

“No, Amber, wait, I—“

Amber turned around and walked away, wiping at her eyes, and Sunflower stood there in the moment, unsure of what to do.

“That was …” said Sunflower, reaching out to Amber, but Amber was gone, holding her backpack in one hand, turning down the hall, disappearing.

Sunflower spent the rest of the day in a daze. She didn’t talk to Amber like she normally did, and for the first time since school had started, she ate alone. She didn’t like eating alone. Drake was sitting with his friends, laughing, and Amber was having fun with some of her other friends, a circle that Sunflower hadn’t gotten closed to since it was difficult for her to make friends.

Amber was the only person who would talk to her at the beginning of junior year, since Sunflower had just transferred in, in the middle of high school, having gone with her parents to a new job location. She had lost all of her old friends, and she had been hoping to gain new ones, but one thing had impeded her progress. Her powers. She had gained them through a story that was longer than she was comfortable telling, but which involved a vampire, the Grim Reaper, and a sacred bottle of Mexican coca-cola. It had been a feverish seven days in which so many things had happened that Sunflower had been changed forever. She did not like looking back on those memories. They scared her.

As Sunflower was walking to the trash to throw away the rest of her lunch, one of Amber’s friends reached out her leg to trip her. She stepped over it nimbly, having noticed the move even before it had been telegraphed in her body, simply through her natural state of awareness. She noticed the look of surprise on the girl’s face and read her mind.

Stupid geek, thought the girl, whose gaze Sunflower was meeting. Always the best at everything. Always on the top. She doesn’t deserve to have friends. Now she has Drake? On top of everything else? It’s just not fair. She’s got so many guys after her and this is how she handles it? If I was in her position …

Sunflower pulled away from the girl’s mind, and walked back to her lunch table, sitting down and folding her hands. Guys never talked to her. Not in person. Occasionally one of them would text her or talk to her over Facebook, but they never approached her at school. Sunflower thought that she was somehow putting them off, that she was ugly in person and no one wanted to talk to her. That was her current theory, though she had held multiple theories as to why no one liked to talk to her in the past.

Her mind whirled for the rest of the day, until school ended, and she headed to the back of the gym and waited for Drake to come. He came, walking around the corner, looking both ways as if he was searching for people who would be watching.

“There’s …” Sunflower said, hesitating. “There’s no one watching.”

Drake nodded once. Then he smiled, awkwardly. Sunflower braced herself.

Here it comes.

“Sunflower, have you ever heard of a superhero named Rose?”

Sunflower squinted her eyes shut and spoke as fast as she could. “Yes, I like—“ then she stopped. “What?” she said, opening her eyes. “What are you talking about?”

Drake seemed just as nervous as Sunflower did. He wiped his brow with his arm. “I’ve been hearing a lot about her, from my dad mostly, and I wanted to check to see if you knew anything. Your name is Sunflower, and the superhero’s name is Rose, and they’re both flowers, so I just wanted to see if you knew anything about her. You know, since your names are so similar.”

Sunflower couldn’t help but let her mouth drop open. So he wasn’t going to ask her out. He was asking about Rose. Rose? Rose was the name of the superhero who Sunflower became after school. Rose was someone entirely different from Sunflower. Sunflower knew this. She wanted to cry. She wanted to kick her feet up and pout. But she knew, as a young woman, that those reactions wouldn’t be the best. So, instead, she smiled, as best she could.

“My name is Sunflower, but that doesn’t have anything to do with this Rose you’re talking about.” Maybe I should have chosen a name further from my own …

Drake smiled awkwardly. “Because, I think, I’m in love with her,” he said. “I’ve seen her pictures in my dad’s files, and I think she’s the most beautiful girl in the world. I’m sure if she wasn’t wearing that mask she’d be even more beautiful.” Drake was red all over, from the tip of his ears to his cheeks.

Sunflower couldn’t help it. She fell in love with Drake even more in that moment, and knew that she was no closer to him than she was yesterday, because if he was in love with Rose and not Sunflower, then his statement about her being beautiful without the mask couldn’t be true. Otherwise he would be in love with Sunflower without her mask. She turned away, about ready to cry.

“Did I say something wrong?” said Drake, reaching over and touching Sunflower on the arm. He pulled back almost immediately. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to touch you.”

“I don’t know anything,” said Sunflower. “I know nothing.”

“There are other superheroes out there,” said Drake, hesitating. “I’ve read about them online. They hide their identities, but they’re there. I’ve been researching them, and my favorite one is Rose. Rose is the most awesome woman in the entire world. She’s super-powerful, and wields the most epic katana in the world. Firia, everyone calls it, though I don’t think she gives it a name. Some of the things she’s done, they’ve caught it on camera, and she can run at more than fifty miles per hour, and she can jump ten stories, and she can withstand bullets to the chest like she was wearing a bulletproof vest. She’s amazing.” He sighed. “And my father doesn’t know who she is.”

“Your dad is a detective, right?” said Sunflower. “Why is he searching for Rose?”

“Everyone is searching for Rose,” said Drake. “Everyone wants to know who she is.”

Sunflower hesitated for a moment, wondering if she should ask. Then she asked. “Can you tell me something about the other superheroes?” she said, unsteadily.

“Yeah, there are really cool superheroes, like Raygun, and Aquamarine, and then there are the stupid ones like Ignus and Loli.”

Sunflower nodded, going along with Drake’s quick speech and obvious excitement about the subject matter.

“Raygun has a special gun that shoots lasers, that’s why he’s called Raygun. He can shoot a quarter out of the air at a hundred meters. Aquamarine is just aquamarine. There’s nothing special about that except the fact that she’s special. I really like her. But Rose, Rose is the best of them all. She can do everything. She’s the most beautiful superhero in the world, and everyone agrees that she should take her mask off and show people who she is.”

Sunflower almost said it, almost told Drake that she was Rose, but then she pulled back at the last minute, unsure of how he would react when he learned that Rose was an unattractive woman who wasn’t beautiful at all, just appeared beautiful when she was wearing a mask, because Sunflower knew that most of that beauty was just because the mask left everything about her up to the imagination, or at the very least, her eyes and nose. That was the part of her that wasn’t beautiful, right? It had to be. So she hesitated, holding back the information that she wanted to give to him, and instead spoke about the first thing that came to mind.

“I like Rose too,” she said. “I’ve met her.”

Drake’s eyes went wide, and he pumped his fist in the air. “Yes! So you did know something about her!”

Sunflower turned her head away, aware that it would now be a lot harder to reveal who she was to Drake. She sensed someone watching them, in that moment. She smiled, gently, and turned away from Drake.

“I have to go now,” she said, reluctantly. “I really do.”

The presence that was watching them turned into Amber, and then a couple more presences appeared—Amber’s friends. Sunflower didn’t want to get involved in any trouble, and so she wanted to end the conversation short before something bad happened.

“Sorry,” said Sunflower, bowing slightly. “I have to go now.” She turned around and walked away from Drake.

“Let’s talk again sometime,” said Drake, calling out to Sunflower from behind.

Sunflower nodded once, and then turned around the corner of the gym, out of sight from everyone. Then, she burst into full sprint, leaping over the school gates, tears streaming down her eyes and her cheek, biting at the wind. This wasn’t supposed to be how it happened. It wasn’t supposed to be this confusing. Drake’s last statement had given her some hope for the future, but that hope seemed small, unimportant in the grand scheme of things. Drake wasn’t in love with her. Drake would never fall in love with her. He loved someone else, someone who was different than Sunflower, someone who Sunflower could never be without her mask. Sunflower had said that she knew Rose. What would that bring? How would that affect her relationship to Drake and Amber? Would Drake really continue to talk to her?

Those questions bounced around inside of Sunflower’s head for the entirety of her run home. When she arrived at her house, she stopped. There was a black van parked in front of her driveway, and Sunflower couldn’t see inside of it with her mental telepathy. She wondered who it was, vaguely sensing an aura of power and danger. Ignoring the feeling, Sunflower walked up to her door and unlocked it with her key. She stepped inside. There, in the living room, was a black-suited man with sunglasses. He looked like a bodybuilder, massive muscles, thick arms, thicker legs, chest bulging at the hem of his suit. He looked at Sunflower and smiled.

“Hello,” he said, just as Sunflower’s mother entered the dining room, carrying a tray of tea and cookies.

“Oh, hey, Sunflower,” said Sunflower’s mother. “Your debate club advisor is here to pick you up and take you to the competition tonight. Why didn’t you tell me you had a competition? It’s good, you can go, but next time make sure to tell me.”

“Debate club?” said Sunflower, suddenly remembering that she had told her mother that she was in the debate club to cover for the fact that she was usually gone after school. “Right, that,” said Sunflower, after her mother gave her a confused look. She sat down across the table from the black-suited man and looked around herself, awkwardly. “Is there something you wanted from me?” said Sunflower. Sunflower’s mother left the room.

The man extended his hand. In it, he held a business card, all black, with a single logo in its center that was shaped like a shield and had the letters DMI on its surface. Underneath the shield was a name.

Laster. That was it, just one name, no last name. Laster continued to hold the business card out as Sunflower stared at it. “Go on,” said Laster. “Take it.”

Sunflower took it. A light popped up in her hands, and a blue sphere materialized above her palm. The sphere darted around the room, trailing blue light, and then it circled Sunflower’s head five times before puffing away into nothing.

“That’s it,” said Laster. “It’s time to go.” He stood up. “Come with me.”

Sunflower stood up and followed Laster out the door and into the street. Laster got into the black van. Sunflower stood by its side, hesitating. Who was this man? Why was he taking her somewhere? Sunflower thought of all the possible things that could be happening, and then decided that, whatever happened, she would be able to break free. If this was a kidnapping attempt, then they had kidnapped the wrong girl. She stepped into the van. The door closed at her side, and Laster started the engine. They drove through the streets, Laster saying nothing, until they made it to a small tunnel in the middle of nowhere, passing underneath a railway. Laster gunned the engine and they flew through the tunnel and into a world of light, bright light, light that flickered around Sunflower’s body as she floated up in her seat, slamming back down after the light disappeared. They had traveled through some sort of portal, and when Sunflower looked outside, she could see a picture of the planet Earth as if it were being viewed through a spaceship’s window. Only, this spaceship was huge. They drove along a causeway in the center of a long hall, hundreds of other vehicles around them, and then they drove through a door and into the center of a metropolis. The planet Earth shrunk, just as they passed through the door, and Sunflower was aware that she was no longer anywhere near her home world. She was in space. They drove across roads populated with traffic until they came to a tall building near the center of the gigantic space station. Sunflower looked up. She could see hundreds of buildings on the ceiling, upside-down, and she could even see people walking with their heads closer to her than their feet.

“Where are we?” asked Sunflower, leaning forwards in her seat so that she could catch a glimpse of Laster, in the driver’s seat.

“We’re inside of Polis,” said Laster. “The city in the sky. The capital of the known multiverse. Try not to do anything too spectacular, but I’m sure that there are more spectacular people than you out there doing more spectacular things all the time. Just, don’t worry.”

Sunflower leaned back in her chair. Everything was happening too fast. Here she was, in the middle of a space station city, and just ten minutes ago she had been sitting in her own living room. She didn’t want to think about how far from home she was, and so she simply sat down in the car and waited to see what would happen next. They drove into a parking lot next to the tall building and parked. The curvature of the space station was making Sunflower feel giddy, but she pushed that feeling away as she stepped out of the car and onto the pavement. It was remarkably similar to an ordinary building in her home town of Yelldvis, except for the decidedly sci-fi aesthetic that the building possessed, all round curves and architect skyscraper bulges. Sunflower followed Laster into the building and through the ornately decorated main lobby. Everything was bright, bold, and put to a taste that was wholly different from what Sunflower was used to seeing back on planet Earth. The color blue was everywhere. Gold plating covered most of the light fixtures, and potted plants accented a waterfall that flowed through the center of the room.

Laster stepped into an elevator, and Sunflower followed. They stepped out into a hallway that was carpeted, homely, and looked about as rich and wealthy as the lobby that they had passed through.

“Welcome to the office of the DMI,” said Laster. “This is where we’re going to get you signed up with us.”

“Signed up?” said Sunflower, walking behind Laster. “I don’t understand. What’s going on?”

“We have several missions that need a new member,” said Laster, “Or, of you work alone, there are some minor jobs that a newbie like you might be able to handle by herself.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Sunflower. “What’s the DMI? How are we in space right now?”

Laster held up one hand. “That is a story for another time,” he said. He stopped in front of a door that was just like all the others, and opened it, stepping into an ordinary office space with cubicles spread out in its center and doors all along its walls.

“This is the headquarters of the DMI,” said Laster. “We’ll get you processed here, and we’ll make sure to tell you everything you need to know.”

Sunflower looked around at the people scurrying back and forth. She was brought to a desk in the center of the room, behind which sat an old woman with an aura of knowledge and wisdom. She smiled, holding out a piece of paper on a clipboard. “Fill out this ten-nintey-J,” she said, “And then we’ll talk about bounties.”

“Bounties?” said Sunflower.

“What,” said Laster. “You thought we weren’t going to pay you for the work you’ve done for your city? Everyone gets paid when they save the world.”

“But—“ said Sunflower, and then she looked down at her paperwork. After about half an hour, she had it all filled out, and then she handed it to the old woman, who filed it away at a complex holographic computer display system. Then she smiled.

“That’s about it,” she said. “You’re now in the system. It’s time for your briefing.”

Sunflower was already baffled enough about what was going on, but at the same time, she was curious to know what Laster had meant by saving the world, and what the old woman had meant by bounties. She had already taken everything else in stride. What now but to take the rest of the surprises as if they weren’t surprises at all? Sunflower had already been through enough stories as it was. What was another story to add to her collection of weird things that happened to her?

Laster took her out of the office and into the streets, where he stood next to her and lit a cigarette. He smoked it once, and then left it hanging next to his leg.

“I suppose you want to know who I am,” he said, flicking the ash off of his cigarette. “I can’t tell you that. All I can tell you is that you’re in the system now. The system knows you. No one knows why we have to put people like you in the system, but we do, and once you’re known by the system, strange things begin to happen to you. Your home world, Earth. It has an extremely low magical individual density compared to some of the places out there. It’s a place in dire need of people like you, people who can help the world, people who can bring about the kinds of change that need to be brought about in a backwater place like Planet Earth. In all honesty, the only reason why I even bothered recruiting you is because I’m from Earth as well. I was born and raised there. My hobby is picking up magical individuals from Planet Earth and giving them big missions. That’s just what I do. People think I’m crazy for worrying about such a low-key place, but hell, I don’t think I can handle not helping out my home world when I have all this power.” He took a drag from his cigarette. Then he let it fall again, flicking it twice. “I’m just a human being. A human who’s been thrust into something bigger than himself, something huge, something that could mean the end for Earth if nothing is done about it. I’ve been trying to tell people. They haven’t listened. Earth is a charity case to them, a backwater planet with a population small enough that it doesn’t even have any seats on the intergalactic senate. That’s how small the Earth is. It’s worthless. I’m the only one out there who’s watching out for the planet. No one else will do it.” He took another pull from his cigarette. “That’s where people like you come in. I have a proposition for you. Are you willing to spend some time up here, in the multiverse? Are you willing to help out your home planet with your powers? Because your powers are a lot more extensive than you know. You’re clear from your house and your school for the next week. To your mother, you’re going on a debate team trip. To your school, you’re still going to be there, and it’s just that people won’t notice you’re gone. And don’t worry. We have technology that will help you recover from the missed schoolwork.”

Sunflower thought for a long moment, wondering why this was happening to her, wondering what was going to happen if she accepted the offer and became a protector of Earth, whatever that meant. She had power. She just didn’t know what to do with it, was all.

“You said we’re getting paid,” said Sunflower.

“I did,” said Laster. “You’re going to be paid approximately one hundred thousand dollars for the week’s work. Don’t worry, the price is about right for the danger of the stuff you’ll be doing if you accept this mission.”

“I …” said Sunflower, thinking for another long moment. “I don’t know. I’m not sure what the right thing to do is.”

“You’ll be hopping dimensions, fighting wars, doing espionage and generally saving the ass of every human being who lives on Planet Earth. You’re the only one who even looks like they’ll take the job. Everyone else refused. I’ve been cycling through heroes on Planet Earth for the past two weeks, and every single one of them doesn’t even step into the car to follow me.”

“That’s because you’re driving in an unmarked black van,” said Sunflower. “You have to get that part of the job down right. No one trusts a man in a black suit with a black van.”

“It’s company policy,” said Laster. “We have to look professional. I can’t go against that rule.”

“So?” said Sunflower. “Why hasn’t anyone else taken up the offer?”

“They all gave one excuse or another,” said Laster. “Especially Aquamarine. She saw me once and then she kicked me in the face with her hydraulic pressure booster or whatever the hell it is that she uses.”

“I see,” said Sunflower. “So I’m the only one who responded to the call.”

“You’re Rose,” said Laster, “The person I thought least possible as the only one who would respond to my call. Every other hero has rejected the mantle. Only you have responded to the call to action that I’ve given you. It’s frustrating. I don’t want to believe that no one else wants to save Planet Earth from impending destruction.”

“What kind of destruction are we talking about?” said Sunflower.

“There is a war going on right now,” said Laster, “And Earth is about to become a battleground. Earth has one thing that both sides need in this conflict, and that’s water. Both sides need huge amounts of water to feed their war machines, and they’ve been sucking water worlds clean for the past three centuries, which is how long the war has been lasting. And finally, it comes close to where we are now. Where I used to live, the place I still call home. I have family down there. They think I work overseas, and I want to keep them ignorant. I think that’s about all you need to know, and the one thing that I’m going to tell you is this: be careful out there. You’re on your own for this one. I know you can do it. I’ll give you the tools and the security clearance, and you’re going to have to figure out a way to stop this war from claiming the Earth. No one else cares. No one else is working to stop the war from coming to Planet Earth. Only I know what’s going on, and no one else is listening to me.”

“How long do we have?” said Sunflower.

“About a month, your time,” said Laster. “I told you that you have a week free, but in a month’s time, about, the war will come to Earth.”

“So basically Earth is just getting caught in the crossfire of an interdimensional war,” said Sunflower. “Is that it? Is that going to be the end of it all? You’ve got to be kidding me. I sound like I’m in the middle of a B-list sci-fi movie.”

“You can choose to do something about it, or you can choose to ignore it. If you ignore it, I can’t be responsible for what happens to Earth.”

“I’ll take the job,” said Sunflower.

“And of course, we’ll pay you,” said Laster. “I have a plan.” He took a drag from his cigarette. “It’s just that, it’s going to take some serious brains to complete, and I don’t have any people with those kinds of skills that would listen to my call. You were my last try.”

“I can find someone,” said Sunflower. “I can help you gather people to fight against the war that’s coming.”

“I don’t know how to stop it,” said Laster, “But I’m pretty sure that if we show that the Earth has the ability to contribute to the Galactic Empire, they’ll give us their protection. There’s a mission that the Empire has put on maximum priority. A person that needs to be rescued from a level five lockdown sector. He’s an important Imperial diplomat, who was sucked into a hyperspatial wormhole and dumped in that sector, exactly where, no one knows. That’s why I told you a week. A week is all we have before his life support systems run out.”

“But you need someone smart to be able to find him, right?” Sunflower said, looking up at Laster.

“Right,” said Laster. “And I don’t know anyone that fits the bill. Not anyone I’ve tried to recruit, and I’ve tried to recruit dozens of people from the two cities where superheroes exist.

‘Two cities?” said Sunflower.

“There are two major ley lines that recently opened on Planet Earth,” said Laster. “Before this, there were no superheroes, no superpowers. Ley lines are what cause you to be able to run and jump like that, and that’s what gave you your super reflexes.”

“What can you tell me about, er, Aquamarine?”

“I’m sorry,” said Laster. “That’s classified information. It’s just company policy that I don’t hand out details to people like this. Because, in all honesty, this is completely under the table. If management were to catch me using the database like this …”

“But,” said Sunflower, “Isn’t your personal reputation worth the salvation of the entirety of Planet Earth?”

“I told you,” said Laster. “Aquamarine doesn’t want to be bothered. Neither do any of the other superheroes in Yelldvis.”

“Fine,” said Sunflower, stepping away from Laster. “If you’re not going to help me, I’ll find them on my own.” She turned around. “I’m going home.”

“Take the number eleven and get off at stop five,” said Laster, calling after Sunflower, as she walked away from Laster and towards the street. She stood in the middle of the sidewalk, looking both ways, until she found the bus stop. The bus pulled up next to the stop, hissing, a double-decker lighted in neon and chrome and looking exactly like she had expected a bus from the future to look. She checked to make sure it was the right one. The number eleven. Strangely enough, she could read everything on it. Eleven, the right bus.

If Laster couldn’t do anything about the war that was about to take over the Earth, than Sunflower would do something about it. She had a week. One week to save the world.