Chapter 1 (Patreon)

“Seriously? You said that to a professor?” Jason snickered. “Not trying to earn any brownie points, are you?”

“Hey, he was being a dick,” Rob shrugged in response. “What was I supposed to do? Sit there and take it?”

“...yeeeeees? He can make your life a living hell for the rest of the semester.”

“Bring it on.”

Rob suppressed a smile as Jason laughed. The situation was pretty funny, but he knew that Jason would be more amused if he kept a straight face, and his friend’s laughter was the kind that lit up the room and washed away your troubles. It was always fun watching him just...enjoy life. Made it easier for Rob to enjoy his own.

They made a strange pair, two college sophomores walking side-by-side through campus, weaving their way around frantic students who were regretting their life choices as they ran to try and not be late to class. Rob was fairly unremarkable; an inch or two below six feet, a bit of muscle hidden under baggy clothes, and a face that would make a girl look twice – not because he was some sort of Greek god, but because she would need some time before (hopefully) deciding “Eeeeeh, you’ll do.”

Jason, on the other hand, was built like a brick shithouse. His body mass was largely made up of protein and he had features chiseled out of stone. A combination of hard work and genetics had given him a physique that made him the rising star of their college’s football team. He was the kind of guy that many secretly hated, and all of them wanted to be.

He was also the nicest guy Rob had ever met. Even Jason’s most jealous detractors couldn’t keep the burning flame of resentment going when they met the guy, because Jason greeted everyone the same; without judgment and with open arms. Rob found himself incredibly lucky that he’d been best friends with Jason since childhood. It was hard to imagine the rest of his life without Jason walking alongside him, trading jokes, being the best man at each other’s weddings, sitting back in creaky old rocking chairs as they yelled at kids to get off their lawn. Even if a small part of him envied Jason’s dashing good looks and ability to charm anyone he met, it was dwarfed by his love and respect for the man.

Even if Jason’s sports scholarship meant that he would graduate free of student debt, the bastard.

It was for all those reasons that the next 30 seconds played out the way they did.

“I’m not saying I’m not stupid or reckless,” Rob continued. “I’m just saying that I made life more interesting, and isn’t that...mostly worth it?” Rob waited for a response; a laugh, a retort, something. He stopped walking and frowned. “Come on man, it’s not going to be that bad-” he said as he turned around, the words catching in his throat. He blinked once, twice, but every time he opened his eyes, the sight was still there.

A pitch black hole in the world at least ten feet tall and wide had opened up in the middle of the campus. Rob felt his eyes begin to dry out and sting as he looked at the void, like he’d been staring at the sun for too long. A cold tingling crept up his spine as he found himself unable to tear his gaze away, transfixed, whispers crawling into his ears.

The rising crescendo of screams broke him from his reverie. Students were fleeing in droves, practically trampling each other in their struggle to get away from the pocket of wrongness that had invaded their pleasant normalcy. Rob blinked, a voice – his own voice, not the whispers – yelling in his head. Not a word, but a pure, unfiltered emotion.

Run.

“JASON! WE HAVE TO GO!” Rob pulled him along. More accurately, he tried to, but Jason had a good 50 pounds on him and was rooted to his spot; moving a statue would have been easier.

“Rob,” Jason croaked in a scratchy tone. “I can’t move.” His eyes peered down. Rob did the same and tensed, his heart pounding in his chest as he finally noticed the tendrils of shadow creeping their way out of the void and up Jason’s legs.

Sounds rang out from inside the hole; the first Rob had heard since it appeared. Metal clanging on metal, clear as day.

Later, Rob would marvel at where he found the strength to do what he did next. Jason weighed well over 200 pounds and immobilized by...whatever those shadow things were. Maybe he’d summoned some inner reserve of strength, like when mothers occasionally hulked out and lifted cars off their trapped children? Regardless of how it happened, it still happened. Rob put every ounce of force he could into a single shove that pushed Jason aside. Only by a foot or so, but that was enough.

A linked chain shot out of the blackness in the time it took Rob to flinch. Just before it hit his arm, the end of the chain opened a shackle that clamped down painfully on Rob’s wrist. Then he was flying, torn off his feet like a weed being plucked from the dirt. Rob craned his head towards Jason, but he was unable to hear his friend’s wide-eyed shout, the darkness already enshrouding his ears and stifling any and all sound outside of his own breathing.

Then the portal closed, and he was in nothing.

Cold. Suffocating. Unnatural. The darkness was all that and more. It had to be similar to what a person might feel if they were adrift in space without a suit on, except that space wouldn't be wriggling and caressing every inch of his body like some vast, all-encompassing organism. Rob panicked and took a breath, immediately regretting his choice as the darkness flooded down his throat and into his lungs, keeping his mouth pried open no matter how hard he tried to close it. It forced out what little air was there and made itself comfortable as Rob gradually stopped struggling.

The last thing he sensed before the sweet oblivion of unconsciousness took him was a voice echoing throughout the void. Inside and outside of his mind. Ubiquitous and uncaring. Rob’s eyes closed as the words seared themselves into his memories.

“Hmm...you’ll do”.

–

The first thing that Rob did when he woke was breathe, then breathe, then breathe some more. Euphoric air flooded his lungs. Oxygen wasn’t something anyone should ever be forced to realize they were taking for granted.

Once he’d had his fill of wonderful, wonderful O2, Rob snapped to attention at the realization that he was still within darkness. Panic almost set in before he realized that there were rays of light dimly shining at the end of the wherever he was. Rob scrambled towards it like a starving man who’d spotted a buffet table, flinging himself outside to bask in the glory of the sun.

God, this feels amazing, he thought. I’ll never spend a week cooped up inside ever again. Not even if it's finals week and I need to cram like I’ve never crammed before. The sun is such a precious gift, just like the breeze, and the...purple...grass?

Rob rubbed his eyes, but the grass refused to be anything but purple. Now that his post-sun high had worn off, he was able to fully take in his surroundings. Groupings of trees covered the landscape, thick enough that he couldn’t see the horizon through the gaps in what was obviously a forest. In fact, outside of the small clearing he was in, the canopies of the trees prevented much of the sun from getting through, casting the forest in an omnipresent half-light. The tree trunks weren’t purple, but the leaves were blue, which was annoyingly inconsistent. A part of him huffed at the difference; fresh leaves and fresh grass should be the same color even if neither of them had chosen to be green that day.

Inane thoughts like that were effective at staving off panic attacks, so he let them run rampant as he processed what happened. Slowly.

Chirping birds serenaded Rob as he realized many more things in succession. First, his clothes were different; his haphazardly-chosen jeans and baggy sweatshirt having been replaced with sturdy brown traveling pants and some sort of dark blue tunic. Second, a mild pressure in his thoughts was calling on him to think of a specific phrase, and it was growing harder to ignore as time passed. And third, he had a freaking sword strapped to his back.

Rob gingerly pulled it free from its sheath, marveling at the stainless gray steel. It was relatively short, only about two feet long, but it felt comfortable in his grip and lighter than one might have guessed. He idly swung it around, blades of grass being indiscriminately slaughtered by a blade of steel. Wasn’t the toughest of stress tests, but at first blush, it was sharp. Sharp enough to wound.

The pressure in his mind grew and poked him again. Fine, Rob grumbled internally. If it’ll make you happy: ‘Character Sheet.’

A rectangular box filled with words appeared floating in the air in front of him. Had he been the Rob of ten minutes ago, he might have been shocked. Frantic, even. The Rob of now was well past that. At this point, a floating translucent box of info was just another bit of weird shit he was going to have to roll with.

He read it over, eyes narrowing further after every distressing line, which was all of them.

Character Sheet
Name: Rob
Level: 1
Race: Human
Class: N/A

HP: 110 / 110
Stamina: 90 / 90
MP: 50 / 50

Status Effects: N/A

Strength: 13
Vitality: 11
Endurance: 9
Dexterity: 10
Perception: 9
Mind: 19
Magic: 5

Active Skills:
Identify (LV 2)
Recall (LV 1)

Passive Skills:
Human Racial Bonus – Fast Learner
Speed Reading (LV 2)
???

Rob read it over, then stared, then read it again, then stared some more.

“Huh.”

He hefted his shortsword and very, very gently dragged it across the tip of his finger. No more than the equivalent of a paper cut. It still stung, and the blood that seeped out – thankfully red, and not indigo or some shit – was warm and sticky. Too real to be a dream, so that was Hypothesis A ruled right out.

“Maybe some really advanced form of Virtual Reality?” he wondered aloud. “...on second thought, better not go down that route. If I start second-guessing the nature of reality itself, I’ll go crazier even faster than I already am.”

And thus Hypothesis B was taken out back and shot. Unfortunately, there was no Hypothesis C. Nothing sufficient enough to explain why he had a status page straight out of a video game taking up space in his head.

You know, I’m being pretty calm about this, Rob thought. No freakout or anything.

His chest constricted as his hands began to sweat. Oh, there it is.

–

After his panic attack had subsided, Rob took stock of his situation once more. He didn’t remotely know where or when he was, all he had to his name was a sword, an empty waterskin, and the clothes on his back, and civilization was nowhere in sight. On the plus side, he had 5 Magic points and 50 MP, which meant:

“Fireball!” Rob stuck out his hand and pushed out the latent energy hidden within his soul. Nothing happened. The chirping of the birds were beginning to sound suspiciously like laughter.

“Should start smaller,” he mumbled. “What’s the most basic of the basic magic I can think of? How about: Orb of Light!”

No dice. Neither was Move Leaf, Move Earth, or Fuck You Why Won’t This Work. Eventually Rob was forced to accept defeat, unable to stand the secondhand embarrassment he was increasingly feeling towards himself.

“Probably need more than 5 Magic points to actually cast a spell. And a teacher to help me do more than flail about in the dark.” He involuntarily shuddered at the reminder of the dark. “Where’s a wise old man in robes when you need him?”

Probably at home sipping tea by the fireside, he answered for himself. Rob looked past the clearing he was in and out beyond the trees. The thick foliage made it impossible to tell where the closest patch of civilization was. His best bet was probably going to end up being picking a random direction and walking until he found something, which was distressing to consider. Maybe it would be better to rethink that plan on a full stomach; he was getting kind of hungry, and whatever force that had so graciously dropped him off here had neglected to give him any food. There had to be something to eat-

Gained: Status Effect – Hunger (LV 1)

Rob glared unamusedly at the floating words as they dissipated into wisps of silver.

–

Two hours of foraging produced mixed results. He’d found some yellow berries and brown mushrooms, which was good. They were also untested and he didn’t have a field guide, which was bad. Rob rolled a berry around in his hand, imagining how juicy and sweet it must be. He wasn’t going to get any less hungry anytime soon, and he wasn’t confident in his ability to hunt wild game. No squirrel or rabbit was going to stand around long enough for him to hit them with his sword, and even if by some grace of god he caught one, he also didn’t know how to make a fire to cook it and make it safe for consumption. Media had made it look so easy, but rubbing two sticks together had yet to yield results. The outdoorsy type, he was not.

A thought at his head nudged him. This time, he followed its advice without hesitation. ‘Identify.’

Name: Yellow Grape
Description: A fruit native to the Ixatan Forest.

...well, at least he knew what to call his new abode.

Rob sighed and popped the berry into his mouth. “You better not be poisonous,” he chewed, talking with his mouth open. No one around to judge me for bad manners! Mom would be so annoyed right now.

...Mom…

The berry was juicy, sweet, and delicious, and he found himself completely unable to enjoy it.

At least it didn’t end up being poisonous.

–

After eating enough berries to make a message cheerfully pop up and inform him that his Hunger status had been removed, Rob scooped up as much food as he could hold and went out in search of water. Providence smiled on him – fucking finally – and he quickly managed to locate a small brook running down gently sloped ground. The water looked crystal clear and was probably full of parasites, but it was still water. He drank until he was content, drank a little more just in case, then filled his waterskin up to the top. After that, he turned around and started walking back the way he came.

Being alone with his thoughts had given him time to clear his mind and think things through a bit more calmly. He still didn’t know where to go to reach civilization, but that didn’t mean he had to just wander off and pray for the best. Now that he had access to food and water, he could afford to take his time. Use the area he woke up in as a sort of base camp – specifically, he’d woken up in a small cave, and while the notion of spending more time in the dark left a bitter taste in his mouth, it was safer than sleeping out in the open. Once he’d gotten settled in, he could branch out, establish more camps at various parts in the Ixatan Forest, clear paths to follow so he wouldn’t get lost, and try and find indicators that people had been in the area. It might take a while, but if he played it smart and safe, he could make it through this.

Yeah. I got this. I survived my freshman year of college – what’s a little hiking in the woods compared to that?

Rob reached his soon-to-be base camp and froze, dropping his bundle of berries and mushrooms as his hands fell to his sides. Each breath he took thundered in his ears as he took small steps backwards, praying to whatever deity was listening that there weren’t any brittle sticks behind him to tread on. In the quiet ambiance of the forest, the snapping of a single twig could echo outwards like a gunshot.

And alert his visitor.

‘Identity.’

Name: Frenzied Wolf
Level: 6
Status: Frenzied, Infected, Emaciated
Description: Stronger than a standard wolf from your home star.

The beast was hideous. An elongated face tipped by a smashed snout sniffed the ground, teeth jutting out in ways that would make a dentist recoil in disgust. Bone spurs pierced out from beneath its skin in random spots, little trickles of blood seeping out of the holes as the spurs rubbed skin and flesh raw. Mats of fur had fallen off, revealing skin tightly compressed against its rib cage and stomach. Black stains were left on the ground wherever it stepped. Watching it filled Rob with an indescribable dread; even more than he would have expected from encountering a hellbeast.

His prayers were answered. There were no sticks behind him as he backed away.

Then the breeze picked up, blowing the air around him towards the wolf.

It sniffed once before snapping its head in his direction, red glowing eyes locking into his, letting out a strangled howl that shook the leaves.

It leaped forward.

Rob moved by primal instinct. He swerved around a tree, barely avoiding the blender of fangs and claws that sailed past him, hands fumbling for the hilt of his sword. Once, twice, then three times it took before his trembling fingers managed to grasp the blade and pull it free, and even then he almost dropped it when the beast let out another horrifying wail of pain and yearning.

Can’t go back into the woods, he thought, mind racing a mile a minute. Wolf is there. Terrain too uneven. Disadvantage. Best bet is base camp. Will never outrun it. Have to figh-

The creature bounded around the tree in huge leaps, bones creaking audibly. It stared him down for a moment, creeping forward for only a moment before jumping at him, slobbering jaws opened wide and hungry.

Rob didn’t think. He didn’t even aim. His body moved the sword, and it went where it went.

The sword carved through the wolf’s midsection with barely a hint of resistance. Skin, flesh, and even bone parted casually in face of the weapon which was now Rob’s second-best friend after Jason. It damn near bisected the beast.

None of this did anything to stop the wolf’s forward momentum or prevent it from clamping down its jaws on Rob’s arm and tearing a massive chunk out before falling to the ground.

Rob’s screeches of pain drowned out the wolf’s piteous whimpers. He stared in abject shock at his arm, which was now much less of an arm, missing flesh, and muscle, and he could see bone.

Blood was pouring out like a faucet. He grasped it with his other hand and put pressure on the wound, manic laughter spilling out of his mouth, but his efforts were as effective as if he’d tried to plug up that very same faucet with a thimble. Blood ran free, because his whole hand could only cover half the wound, because most of his forearm was fucking gone and-

An instinct poked at his brain. He was barely able to comprehend it considering what had just happened, but enough of his mind remained cognizant enough to follow its advice and open up his Character Sheet.

HP: 65 / 110
Stamina: 68 / 90
MP: 50 / 50
Status Effects: Bleeding (Severe)

He didn’t have time to be exasperated at the Status Effect telling him what he already knew. With every half-second that passed, his HP ticked down a little bit more, creeping closer and closer towards 0. Tick. Minus 1 HP. Tick. Minus 2 HP.

I’m bleeding out.

The simple statement of fact snapped him out of his shock. Rob pulled the tunic off as quickly as he could and wrapped it around the gouge in his arm, ignoring the ludicrous amount of pain he was feeling as he pressed down hard and kept the pressure there. He chanced a peek at his HP with the same morbid fascination of someone examining a car crash on the side of the road. The rate at which it was ticking down had slowed, but it was still going down.

40 HP. Tick. 39 HP. Tick.

Rob laid down on the ground and put his arm on his stomach to keep it elevated. Blood continued to flow out of the wound and onto his chest, having already soaked his tunic from top to bottom. He belatedly realized that the wolf was next to him on the ground, twitching and moaning, but if it had enough energy and spite to take a snap at him after nearly being cut in half then it fucking deserved the kill.

20 HP. Tick.

“Fuck this,” Rob spat through grit teeth. “I’m not dying here. You think you can just send me here and literally throw me to the wolves, whoever you are, you piece of shit? Think I’m gonna take it laying down? No. Not in a million years. I’ll walk this off in no time, and I’ll find you, and I’ll kick your ass. You hear me? I’m not dying here.”

6 HP. Tick.

“YOU HEAR ME? I’M NOT DYING HERE!”

The wolf let out one final, piteous whimper, and stopped twitching.

Enemy Defeated: Frenzied Wolf

Reached Level 2!
5 Stat Points Gained!
First-Time Level Bonus: 5 Additional Stat Points Gained!

RARE Active Skill Gained!
Name: Do Not Go Gently (RARE)
Prerequisites: Vitality 10, Go through a Near-Death Experience, Exhibit the Unyielding Will to Survive.
Description: When HP falls below 25%, double Vitality and double the effectiveness of all defense and Vitality-based skills.
Duration: 1 Minute.
Cooldown: 15 Minutes.

Rob gaped at the litany of messages, wasting a precious moment where another tick transpired, before his mind went into overdrive. He embraced the instinct in the back of his head – the instinct which at the moment had gone from poking him to shaking him by the throat – and did what he needed to do.

Do Not Go Gently activated.

Put 10 stat points into Vitality.

Passive Skill Gained!
Name: Tough Skin
Prerequisite: Vitality 20, take grievous physical damage at least once.
Description: Reduces physical damage incurred by 10%.

Passive Skill Gained!
Name: Regeneration
Prerequisite: Vitality 20
Description: Heals 10% of Max HP every hour.

Cool.

Rob looked at his character sheet.

HP: 104 / 210 (Temp HP: 208 / 420)
Status Effects: Bleeding (High), Do Not Go Gently (Time Remaining: 58 Seconds)

HP was still going down. But there was a lot more of it now. And every now and then, it ticked back up.

Yeah. That would have to do.

Really tired. Everything fading. Darkness encroaching...no, not darkness, sleep.

Guess I’ll see if it worked by waking up again.

–

Rob stirred, his consciousness rising into existence as the comfort of sleep faded away. He was awake – but his eyelids hadn’t gotten the message yet. He pushed, and pushed, until at last they creaked open.

And immediately shut them again as water splashed on top of his retinas. Water was splashing everywhere on him, actually. He was soaked to the bone and more than a little cold.

“It started raining?” Rob sighed. “Is this some kind of cosmic joke?”

No one answered.

Rob brought up his character sheet, which thankfully he didn’t need to have his eyes open to look at.

HP: 17 / 210
Stamina: 18 / 90
Status Effects: Bleeding (Minor)

His eyes were glued to the screen. Two simple letters and two simple numbers that decided whether he would live or die. He waited, every second lasting an eternity. Panic welled up within him when his HP ticked down, but it ticked back up shortly after, and then again after he waited a few minutes. For every 1 HP lost to bleeding, he regenerated 2. Approximately.

Good enough. Guess I beat the buzzer. Wonder if hitting 0 is the end, though. Maybe I can go a bit below and be okay?

The core of his being told him in no uncertain terms that no, he wouldn’t be. HP wasn’t just an abstract number; it was a representation of his body’s ability to keep on going. If he hit 0, it was because he was dead. Period.

He felt a chill, and it wasn’t from the rain.

With laborious movements he sat himself up and made his way towards the cave. Moving sucked and his arm still hurt like a bitch, but if he stayed out in the rain anymore he would catch his death of cold. Literally. Would be embarrassing to survive a wolf attack and get finished off by the sniffles.

He glanced at where the wolf had fallen. In the time he’d been passed out, the wolf had somehow melted into a red-brown sludge that was in the process of being washed away by the rain. It smelled like rotten meat. If Rob had the energy to gag, he would have.

Rob positioned himself inside the cave, right by the entrance, deep enough inside to shield himself from the rain but as far away from the shadowed interior as possible. He leaned back against the wall, getting comfortable as best as he could with stone protrusions poking him in the back, and resigned himself to a long period of waiting for his magical regeneration skill and 10 vague points of artificial hardiness he’d pumped into his body to do their thing.

Which was...definitely something to be examined in greater detail when he wasn’t 90% dead.

His hands were cold, so he shoved them in his pants’ pockets.

And felt a crinkle.

Rob pulled out the small scrap of parchment that had been in his pocket, so thin that he’d never realized it was there. The note was waterlogged by the rain and stained with blood, but the two words written on it in flowery penmanship were just legible enough to read.

“Good luck.”