Chapter 28 Playing the Fiddle While the World Burns: A How to Guide (Patreon)

Chapter 28

Playing the Fiddle While the World Burns: A How to Guide

“AHHAHHAHHHHHH!” An Endarian screams in pain as their intestines are being pulled out and eaten right in front of them.

Whoom! The sound of an intense fire bursts to life scorching both the dog sized monster eating the intestines and the man whose intestines were being eaten. Whoops? Still too much power. I think to myself as I am still trying to get used to my new power levels.

***

Oh, perhaps I should introduce myself since you are probing my brain even now trying to figure out how I tick. My name is Kyle Goldman, or Kyle Goldman-X as I have been noted in this alternate? Parallel Universe? I don’t really know the difference to make one claim over the other. I am from a different universe, let’s leave it at that. Let’s also assume that for the last few months I have been locked inside a prison, where I was being held for no other reason than I managed to survive and piggy-back off an alien invasion. I singlehandedly stopped that invasion, not that it mattered much in terms of my incarceration. In fact, the only reason why I am out right now is that I am on loan to the Endarians.

Why would I, a political prisoner be loaned out as a military asset and adviser to the Endarians a group of people who in this universe have sworn to hate humans? Simple the gods hate me.

Okay, fine, you probably want the longer version. That alien invasion I piggy-backed a ride from are here in droves. Now I’m not one to say I told you so, at least not in Endarian. The only reason why is that it doesn’t quite translate well. In Endarian the closest one could get would be “I said as I have said.” Which totally loses the whole annoying undertones of lofting yourself up, while simultaneously calling someone else a moron. But I digress, I am now on Endar, the Endarian home world dealing with an infestation of Scourge.

Right, scourge, or Prolaxians, or whatever stupid name this universe will come up with for them are the bane of existence. They have destroyed countless universes and seem to be able to rip inter-dimensional rifts between universes where they can surge over and begin destroying whole swaths of reality. They are quite literally the perfect enemy. Capable of traveling into space without need of a ship, their cellular structure is wholly unique in that it protects them from the rigors of space travel. While their seemingly simplistic body allows them to kill off any form of organic life, lay their tiny single cellular eggs within a slain foe then propagate in the billions from that foe. They are world enders, and they have spawned in mass on Endar.

So how did they get on Endar? Simple, the Endarians took a sample they thought was dormant and brought that sample to Endar. Why was there a sample to begin with? Simple, the human scientists who found me thought they knew better than me about these monsters so they cryogenically froze them keeping the cells and tissues alive long enough for analysis. Why didn’t they burn them like the dashing hero with glowing purple eyes and glowing silver hair from another dimension urged? Simple, they knew better.

Those cocky human scientists knew better and felt assured in their safeguards they had in place against the monsters. Technically they weren’t wrong, these monsters didn’t appear in human space. They only began appearing in Endarian space after a raid on a secret military base where these monsters were being held. This was when I was first called in. I was asked if the burning of the lab would be enough to keep the monsters from spreading. By this point the scientific data collected by the humans, at least, was enough to raise concerns for the wellbeing of the planet.

The Endarian spy network, the one that somehow gained knowledge of where the alien samples were being examined hadn’t gotten to that data. That or they saw the data listing concerns about the reproductive rates of the monsters and chose to ignore them.

So here I am. A scourge hunting expert from another universe, who is also a time looper. Yeah, I should point out that this is my thirteenth lifetime. When I went through my Awakening trials, I lived through twelve consecutive lifetimes. Each time I died in my previous lives I was brought back to the Temple where I first awakened my magical powers. So even with having fought the scourge twice in this iteration of life, I like to think of myself as an expert at killing the monsters. Well killing and being killed by them, my last seven restarts have all been at the hands of these creatures. Trust me, having your guts ripped out so you can slowly bleed to death while being pumped full of alien amoeba sacs that reproduce rapidly inside you and use you as a living incubator is not the most pleasant of ways to die. This is a sad lesson that many Endarians are experiencing right now.

Music.

I play Endar Rising while being carried down to the surface of Endar. I think it kind of ironic that perhaps the most iconic love song of the universe, one that first gave the Endarians a want to search and explore the stars is the tune I play while I am coming in, to try to fix their mistake. Their mistake, stealing a poison pill that they thought would give an enemy unlimited power in a war for dominance.

The song, Endar Rising is a reminder to me as well. This is my way of reminding myself why I am working with these back-stabbing aliens. See I am being loaned out as an instrument of peace, haha instrument get it? Playing music? No? It’s been a long couple of day, well more like months.

I have been stuck here for…I don’t really know how long at this point. My ship, which is an advanced ship, especially compared to the antique pieces of garbage these societies are using. The ship in question is a modified vessel that was being used for training purposes, thus why it had no real weapons on it. The ship also has a cracked windshield, the only real reason why I tried to stop for help. Now the ship is I don’t know where, likely taken apart and cataloged in thousands of different pieces.

Yep, two words to describe how I got in this predicament, cracked windshield. Though that is only why I decided to turn myself in. I should have just kept going and eventually found a way out myself.

“You play quite well, for a human.” The Endarian liaison says. Her words sound odd as she is trying to speak in English. Her voice has a muffled musical quality to it, like she is trying to sing through water.

“You don’t need to speak English.” I say in Endarian to her.

Shock.

She looks first shocked by the comment. “Sorry, I was not aware that you were so fluent in our language.” She states in Endarian.

I shake my head. “How much do you really know about what is going on?” I say, pointing to the screen that is live streaming events from the surface of the planet. A planet that is quickly being overrun by surging alien forces.

“Not much, just that you are an expert in dealing with the enemy.”

I shrug. I guess I am somewhat of an expert. Not only do I come from a more advanced universe, one that has fought and repelled off the scourge, or as they are known in my home universe the Prolaxiansseveral times.

“I saw your training video. The one where you were fighting these Prolaxians.” She continues.

I shrug. That video is likely part of why I am still alive. No doubt she got an edited version of the film. But suffice to say, when they took apart my ship, they found this ship’s black box. This recorded every wave of information being sent to it before, during, and after my encounter with the Prolaxians. It showed me clearly being able to seethe rift the alien monsters created before it truly manifested. It showed the way I broke formation to engage the enemy. It also showed how my ship was both disabled and then simultaneously came back online just in time to surge through the rift the monsters were able to form in space. Then it shows either me killing all the monsters with some form of psionic burst, or the monsters dying of some type of residual feedback caused by the rift closing. All that is known is that after the rift closed, I too was knocked out, and lay unconscious for approximately two hours and seventeen minutes, after which I turned around to my home planet. Only to see that the planet I went to was devoid of all life. Everything had been destroyed by the Prolaxians. Then it shows me suddenly racing along the planet, trying to engage a second set of Prolaxians who were tearing apart another rift in space. This time I plowed through the monsters killing hundreds of them in my wake. Then as I entered the rift I turned around and destroyed the Amoeba general who was able to generate the rift.

Suffice to say, the video made me look more like a one-man army than a kid who was supposed to be earning their official flight badge for the military.

“You don’t have anything to say?” She continues.

I shrug. “You didn’t ask a question.” I parrot back.

She thinks for a minute then nods in agreement. “You are right.”

Silence.

Silence I soon fill by playing Endar Rising once more. I play, just as I always do, remembering Mel.

After a few stanzas my liaison cuts in. “She must be important to you.”

I look at her and stop playing. Realizing that the song might have revealed more about me than I wished for this alien from a different universe to know.

“You have such passion when you play. That it is clear you truly understand the motivations behind our song.” She speaks as if she is the sole owner of who can play Endar Rising.

In my universe this is a song that has been lost to time, though I do remember it from my past lives which is why I was able to bring it back to life. If only for a few moments on my home universe. Here, the song is just as alive as the planet of Endar is. Which if the monsters who are rampaging about the streets have any say will only be for the next day or so. Unless of course drastic actions are taken. In this case I am the drastic action being taken.

Two main things happened to get me here. First, the Endarians capitulated to admitting doing war crimes of espionage and sabotage. The second thing is, as part of a good faith agreement I was to be lent out as a subject matter expert and weapon. Think of me as the equivalent of a surgical nuke, especially with my recent Psionic Class upgrade.

Oh, that is likely something else that I should describe as well. The universe I come from, universe thirteen for lack of a better name. Why thirteen? Well, it was the unique universe where I began my thirteenth try at life. It was also the first universe where I gained not one, but two different trial potions. The first [Energy Sight], as its name suggests allows me to see energy. But not just energy, this was how I was able to see the rift forming in space before our spatial equipment was able to identify that there was a problem.

The second potion I got gave me [Increased Psionic Potency] this is a form of power that is wholly unprecedented in my previous lives. With this bonus alone my Psychic powers were off the charts. Then you add in the fact that all the monsters I killed generated Psychic infused coins called certs, which is short for Certified Experience Report Transcription. See something odd happens when a universe first begins to meet and fight with the Prolaxians, or as I am used to calling them, the scourge. When a universe first interacts with the scourge, their next waves of children to enter the Temple begin the awakening process.

In my universe, universe thirteen, first contact with the scourge happened thousands of years prior. Meaning that everyone for generations has been indoctrinated into the system. Now the system is an odd process where one can level by killing scourge. There is also a time known as the integration period, during which time everyone has a chance to grow and evolve their classes in two ways. The first is to change the class rarity. For just three certs of a particular class nature (magic certs for Magic classes, and Psychic certs for Psychic/Psionic classes) one can improve the rarity of their class. This means that the number of levels needed to gain Attributes are decreased, while the level limit one can achieve is increased. Meaning that the higher one climbs the more powerful they can get. Until they get to the ultimate tier of rarity, the Omega class tier where there is no level limit, and they gain free Attributes to distribute once every three levels.

That is another thing, and one that caught me by surprise. Universe thirteen was the only universe where I was not able to improve my physical attributes through working out. Apparently, it was something to do with being locked into the system, but those restrictions soon let off when I got here as I was able to start increasing my Attributes here after about a month or so.

This was of course after I managed to find the stash of Psychic certs that was collected by my ship. Certs that I quickly applied to my Psionic class. I applied the full payload of forty-nine overall psychic certs to my psychic class. This was enough to push my class to the Omega level rarity while permanently changing my psychic class from Psionic, a basic mental attack class to Psionic Prime.

The only real difference in my power being that I am still exceptionally unbalanced. I am unbalanced in multiple ways; first in the way I can relate to others who are also Psychics I outclass them by a wide margin. The other way I am unbalanced is in comparison to my Magic Class, which is listed as the Generic Support Mage. This means that any time I use even the smallest sliver of my Psionic powers I generate an enormous amount of Psychic resonance, which I am told is like being able to always generate tinnitus on people around you, while also generating fuzzy tingling sensations on every brain within proximity to me. Only other psychics seem to be immune to this effect. This resonance tends to be unnerving to mage classes who have a lower-than-normal Power attribute rating as well. I ran into this on my home universe where one of my fellow classmates, Chet, would get irrationally angry with me. These are apparently the signs that he was becoming mentally unbalanced. Looking back, I should have been a bit more aware, but then again I had no way of knowing about the changes that had happened to me.

“…You about ready?” The Liaison asks.

I look up to realize she has been speaking for a few seconds. With a sigh, I pull up my status screen and see the changes that have been made over the past few months since I got here.

Name: Kyle Goldman

Age: 18

Race: Half-Human*

Mage Class Type: Support (Common)

Mental Class Type: Psionic Prime (Omega)

Attributes

Strength: 12 +1 => 13

Dexterity: 15 +1 => 16

Agility: 15 +1 => 16

Endurance: 12 +1 => 13

Perception: 20

Intelligence: 20

Willpower: 20

Power: 33

Magic Aptitudes:

Spirit: 99+% (Spell Breaking, Unweaving, Negation, Dampening, Rendering)

Healing: 57% (Mend, Cleanse, Purge)

Air: 25% (Cleanse, Create)

Water: 25% (Cleanse, Create)

Psionic Aptitudes:

Mind Rend-X: 99+%

Telekinesis-X: 99+%

Pyrokinesis-X: 99+%

Precognition-X: 99+%

[Energy Sight], [Increased Psionic Potency]

Skills

Linguistics: 99+%

Rune Crafting: 99+%: Reading/Writing: 99+%

Art: 89%: Human Painting 99%

Navigation: 88%: Astronavigation: 99+%

Musical Instrument: 85+%: Violin: 99+%

Piloting: 77%: Human Fighter Pilot: 99+%

Firearms: 75%: Blasters: 95%

Mechanical Engineering: 91%

Hand to Hand Combat: 85%: Human Martial Arts: 90%

Medicine: 71% First Aide: 84%

Melee Combat: 68%

Sneaking: 68%

Meditation: 67%

Seeing my status, in particular the way my Psionic Prime powers have all changed I am finally ready to give them all a try. That dash ‘X’ at the end is how I got my new name, at least for this universe (Kyle Goldman-X). The name doesn’t appear in my status, thankfully, but everything else does. I guess they needed an easy way to keep the real Kyle Goldman and myself separated. I offered the helpful hint that they could just look at us and see the difference, the Kyle Goldman of this universe looks exactly like I did before my Awakening trials. I am the freak Kyle Goldman in this universe. Well, I guess I am also the freak in my own universe as no one else quite looks like me in my home universe, universe thirteen.

“Yeah.” I reply, still not feeling like talking to this chatty assistant.

With that one word answer the door to the transport vessel breaks away. Instantly my nose is filled with the scent of smoke and ash. Below me is a war zone, somehow, I feel all too comfortable in such a place. The smell brings me back to past lives, with memories I had long since forgotten. Memories of fighting beside brothers and sisters at arms. This time will be different. This time I will just be fighting by myself, at least I haven’t been told I will be going with anyone else.

“Then go.” I feel a push on my back, directing me to the open doorway. The push isn’t enough to move me, not if I didn’t want to be moved. But I move anyways, letting my shackles fall to the ground as I spread my arms and let the cool breeze of air flow past me. For this moment I am free. For this one moment I control my life and my destiny. For this one moment I let myself fall.

I want to fall all the way to the center of the planet. To let myself get eaten up by the asphalt below. But an automatic rigging kicks in after a few thousand feet, expanding my parachute and forcing me to slow my assent. Then with that, I realize that I am still not in control of my destiny.

Thump.

I land with practiced ease that comes from a lifetime of training in special forces operations. I land with my feet, kick back, then roll back onto my butt, before I erase the complete motion of my fall with tried methods. In a second, I am up on my feet and scanning my surroundings.

I take off my parachute and begin burning it to a crisp on the spot. Then I begin to look for the enemies that are all around. There are so many enemy forces around that I swear I can feel them with my enhanced senses.

That's when I see it, my first inhabitant being eaten alive and being used as an incubator for the aliens. A problem I quickly fix by a liberal application of my new Pyrokinesis-X.