Death: Genesis

For a moment that stretched into an eternity, Zeke hung suspended within the expansive confines of the void. Between his death and rebirth, Zeke had become intimately familiar with that endless stretch of nothing, so, in some ways, it felt like he’d returned home. However, contrary to his previous experience, this instance left his self-awareness intact. There was no acceptance. No contentment. Just a brutal awareness of both his insignificance as well as the unrelenting monotony that came with that torturous absence.

If he’d had a mouth, he would have screamed. But in that moment, he was nothing. Not even a speck of reality. Just a blob of consciousness that, given more than an instant, would dissolve and join the void. Zeke desperately reached for the solace promised by the infinite nothing, but any relief was denied him when, almost as suddenly as he’d come, he found himself pulled into another realm.

He stumbled to the white floor, feeling cold tiles under his bare skin. There was a chill in the air that, when it brushed over his naked body, left goosebumps in its wake. Zeke collapsed to his hands and knees, gasping for breath as his sense of self returned. After that came his memories. His emotions. His wants and needs. And like that, he regained his humanity.

It was just in time, too, because only a moment later, a familiar voice echoed in his ears. “It’s a difficult transition, I know,” said Oberon, standing over him. “Take a moment to collect yourself. Oh, and here.”

Zeke looked up to see the short man wave his hand, and suddenly, Zeke was clad in the same linen clothes in which he had been reborn. More importantly, when Zeke looked down at his hand, he only saw normal human skin staring back at him. The effects of [Armor of the Colossus] were gone.

“What the…”

“You’re not really here,” said Oberon, taking a seat in a leather chair that had suddenly appeared. Its twin sat across from him, making Zeke wonder if someone was about to explain the nature of the Matrix to him. “This is all just a construct meant to ease your transition into the next plane. Next time, you won’t get one.”

Zeke shook his head, taking a moment to let his brain catch up to the situation. Over the next handful of seconds, he looked around. The construct was a little different than it had been the first time he’d visited. Instead of a seamless white expanse, it had visible walls, a floor, and a ceiling. It was all still devoid of color, but there was enough texture to make it feel like a real room.

His eyes found Oberon. Unlike the first time Zeke had seen him, he no longer looked like a famous actor; instead, he’d taken an appearance more like the one he’d worn when he’d rescued Zeke from the clutches of the succubus. He was a short man – maybe three-and-a-half feet tall – but with broad, muscular shoulders. With a great beard that seemed either partially comprised of or intertwined with sticks and leaves, he looked like a prototypical fantasy dwarf, albeit one that followed a path of nature as opposed to one spent delving the earth in search of precious metals and gems.

“Is this the real you?” asked Zeke, pushing himself to his feet. “Or another projection?”

“This is my real appearance,” the man said. Then, he gestured toward the second chair. It was overstuffed and upholstered in red leather. “Sit. We’ve got a lot to go over.”

Zeke shook his head, then ran his hand through his hair. It was nice not brushing against the metal that had encased his head for the last couple of months. He’d tried to take the instability of his [Armor of the Colossus] and the resultant inability to deactivate the skill in stride, but it had affected him nonetheless. He’d never felt more monstrous than when those sailors had looked at him in unbridled fear. It was a good reminder of what Talia went through every day.

Pushing himself to his feet, Zeke took the offered chair. Sighing, he said, “So, what now?”

“You seem exhausted,” Oberon pointed out, somehow making the chair look small even when he was no taller than a child. It wasn’t about his physical stature, but rather, his presence that filled the room.

“I guess I kind of am,” he said. “The last few months…they’ve been difficult.”

Indeed, ever since leaving Jariq, he’d alternated between inescapable crises, battle, and emotional upheaval. Not only had he fought a handful of creatures at the pinnacle, but he’d also found himself enmeshed in a conflict between the living and the dead. That war had raged across the Radiant Isles, and it was one that Zeke knew in his heart that the undead were destined to win. Besides that, he’d also been betrayed by the woman he thought he loved, seen an ally return from the dead, and botched a skill evolution so completely that it had nearly killed him.

And that wasn’t even considering the trauma that had preceded the last year or so. Frost giants, guilds of assassins, and a host of other threats had plagued his every step through the Radiant Isles, and the accumulation of all that stress had slowly built until he hadn’t even realized how much it was weighing him down. Now, at last, he felt like he could relax.

At least until the next threat presented itself.

“If it’s any consolation, I tried to prevent Aja from contacting Abby,” Oberon said. “But she already had a connection, and her power is a match for mine. Unless I went to war with her…”

Zeke sighed, then asked, “Was Abby manipulated? Mentally, I mean. Like, she wasn’t mind controlled or anything, was she?”

“No,” Oberon said. “That kind of magic is exceedingly rare, even at my level, and it’s impossible across planes. She may have been persuaded, but she was not controlled. I’m sorry, but she made her own choices.”

That wasn’t really a surprise to Zeke. When he’d looked into Abby’s eyes, he had seen guilt. More, he’d seen that she still thought she’d made the right choice, which implied that she hadn’t really been manipulated. However, Zeke had still held out a little hope. Now, that hope was gone, and with it went any notion that they might rekindle their relationship.

“I’m sorry,” Oberon said, leaning forward.

Zeke suddenly realized that tears were falling down his cheeks. He’d never been much for crying; any penchant for that kind of emotional display had been beaten out of him as a child. But there was just something about the place that removed his walls, letting him truly feel the sting of Abby’s betrayal. And he didn’t like it one bit.

So, he wiped his eyes, saying, “I’m fine. So, what happens now?”

Oberon narrowed his eyes, but he chose not to press Zeke’s buttons. Instead, he said, “A few things. First, we’re going to talk about classes. Then, I’m going to explain how this new plane differs from the one you just left behind. And then, I hope to offer you some advice before you’re thrown back into it.”

“Fair enough,” Zeke said. Oberon was all business, which was precisely what Zeke needed at that moment. So long as he had something to focus on, he didn’t have to think about his personal issues. Or his subdued emotions.

“Just like when you selected your skills, you’re going to get five class choices,” Oberon explained. “They are the culmination of your experiences in the tutorial, and –”

“Tutorial? That’s what Constance called it,” Zeke stated.

“Right. Yes. I suppose there’s no harm in telling you now,” Oberon said. “That first plane is, for lack of a more descriptive term, merely a tutorial meant to acclimate people to the Framework and to establish foundations for further development. If someone can’t – or won’t – advance past that tutorial, then they are useless in the conflict.”

Zeke didn’t respond. Instead, he considered everything he’d been through; it had all been a tutorial? If that was the case, it made Zeke wonder just what kinds of dangers he would see going forward.

“That’s a bit troubling,” Zeke said, putting words to his thoughts. “I barely survived the tutorial. What chance do I have in the next plane?”

“You barely survived because you pushed yourself further than most,” Oberon stated. “If you had taken your time after escaping the troll dungeon, you would have easily gotten here in a few more years, and without the danger you experienced. However, your drive has resulted in better results than I could have ever expected. Even after your performance in the dungeon –”

“Did you put that there?” Zeke asked. “The trolls and that cave system, I mean.”

“In a sense,” Oberon stated. “We’re getting ahead of ourselves here, but as you climb the planes, you will see increasing numbers of spatial and temporal anomalies. Some call them dungeons. Others call them pocket realms. Regardless, they are completely isolated spaces that usually offer adventurers like yourself a chance to hone your skills and gain levels. In your case, I merely sequestered an existing pocket realm and rerouted it to the first plane so that you could have a proper challenge as well as the rewards that would come with overcoming it.”

“So…you didn’t create it?”

Oberon laughed. “Of course not!” he guffawed, slapping his knee. “I have neither the power nor the inclination to do such things.”

“So? Classes?” asked Zeke, his questions exhausted for the moment. There were more, but he was understandably eager to see the culmination of all his sacrifices and hard work.

“Right, right!” said Oberon. “Let’s get to it, then, shall we?”

Then, he waved his hand, and suddenly, Zeke felt that he had access to his status menus. Sure enough, he easily called his notifications into being. There was only one, which notified him that he’d qualified to pick a class. So, he selected it, and a second later, a series of options bloomed before his eyes.

He focused on the first one:

{Dread Knight} (R) – Your demonic nature as well as your penchant for stealing vital energy has led you down a path of darkness and despair. The {Dread Knight} is a peerless combatant focused on commanding armies of demons. +1 Tier Strength, Endurance, and Intelligence. -1 Tier Agility. First Skill: [Demonic Empowerment].

“Uh…pass,” Zeke muttered, intending to move on to the next one. However, Oberon got his attention by clearing his throat.

“Do not dismiss anything out of hand,” the nature dwarf said. “These classes are not who you are. They are a tool, nothing more.”

Zeke nodded. “What does the little (R) beside the class mean?” he asked.

“That denotes its rarity,” Oberon said. “The first is ‘Trash’, denoted by a (T). Despite the name, classes with that designation usually serve a vital purpose in any society. They perform essential functions, even if they do not hold much power. No one who was reborn into the tutorial will get that kind of a class. Instead, only natives of the next plane will be so limited.

“Then there are Common, Uncommon, Rare, Epic, Legendary, Mythic, and Aberrant. They will be denoted by (C), (U), (R), (E), (L), (M), and following the same logic, (A). The higher the rarity, the more powerful the class. Until you get to Aberrant, which can be a bit of a mixed bag. They’re unique, which doesn’t always mean better. But the others are fairly linear.”

“So, this one is kind of middle of the road?” asked Zeke.

“No,” Oberon answered. “It is well above average. It is a powerful class usually only achievable by the elite. Most ascenders will either get an Uncommon or Common class. Only the elite get Rare, and the truly talented achieve Epic.”

“What about Legendary and Mythic?” was Zeke’s next question. “Or Aberrant?”

“One in a billion for Legendary, one in a trillion for Mythic. And Aberrant? So rare that it’s not worth mentioning,” Oberon explained.

The scale of those numbers definitely threw Zeke for a loop, so, rather than thinking about them, he moved on to the next class.

{Ardent Crusader} (R) – With a martial path dedicated to protection, you have proven yourself to be a selfless hero who puts the needs of others above your own. The {Ardent Crusader} is a noble knight focused on guarding against the forces of evil. +1 Tier Endurance, Vitality, Wisdom. -1 Tier Dexterity. First Skill: [Wave of Inspiration].

This choice seemed like the opposite of {Dread Knight}, which made sense, given the duality of Zeke’s nature. In addition, he’d spent much of his early days in the Radiant Isles helping or avenging others, so he felt that he was well qualified for the class.

“What’s with the Tiers?” asked Zeke.

“I’ll explain that once you’ve gone through your classes,” Oberon answered. “But suffice it to say that higher numbers are better.”

Zeke wanted to insist upon getting answers up front, but then he thought better of it. After all, Oberon had power on a level that Zeke couldn’t even comprehend. And while they seemed like they were on good terms, Zeke had no desire to poke the proverbial bear. Besides, he’d get the information he needed, just in a few minutes. He wasn’t so impatient that he couldn’t wait. So, he looked at the next option:

{Arcane Colossus} (A) – An unstoppable force combined with rudimentary progression on the path of runecrafting, you occupy a wholly unique space. The {Arcane Colossus} harnesses the power of gravity, earth, and runes to overwhelm foes via sheer implacability. +4 Tier Strength, Endurance, +2 Tier Intelligence, Wisdom, -1 Tier Vitality. First Skill: [Colossus].

“Uh…Oberon? Can you see my notifications?” Zeke asked.

“No,” said the dwarf. “Why?”

“I just got offered an Aberrant class called {Arcane Colossus},” Zeke said. He then read the description aloud before asking, “What does that mean?”

“Interesting,” Oberon responded. “It seems you are more of an outlier than I expected.”

“So, that’s obviously the best one, right?” Zeke asked.

Oberon shook his head. “No,” was his answer. “It may very well be. It’s obviously better than the other two, but Aberrant classes represent an incredibly difficult path. It has high potential, both for success and failure. It is the ultimate in risk and reward.”

Rather than scare him off, that actually appealed to Zeke. He’d never been shy when it came to hard work and training, and the higher potential of the class was very attractive. Still, it also represented a significant risk. If he failed to get the most out of the class – whatever that entailed – he would be stuck. It was definitely something to consider.

He shifted his focus to the next available class:

{Animalist} (E) – You have bound a monster to your will, raising it as your own family. The {Animalist} is a druidic variant focused on transformation with a slighter emphasis on healing and plant magic. +2 Tier Strength, Endurance, Agility, Dexterity. First Skill: [Form of the Predator].

Zeke relayed the class’s information to Oberon, then said, “I guess that’s because I bonded Pudge.”

“Fair assumption,” Oberon stated, scratching his leaf-strewn beard. “It’s a powerful class. I’ve known a couple with similar abilities, and they are always a pain to defeat. I’d guess that that skill would probably accentuate your offensive capabilities by transforming you into some sort of predatory monster. Later, you would likely receive transformations meant for other situations.”

Zeke nodded. There was a certain appeal to a nature-based class, but he knew he couldn’t make a decision until he saw his last option. So, he did just that:

{Apocalyptic Harbinger} (L) – A vessel of pure devastation, wherever you go, destruction follows. The {Apocalyptic Harbinger} is a purely offensive class with a wide variety of attacks, both magical and mundane. +1 Tier Strength, Endurance, +5 Tier Wisdom, Intelligence. First Skill: [Hellfire Conflagration].

“Well, crap,” Zeke muttered. The class sounded extraordinarily powerful, but there were plenty of hints that that power came at a cost. Looking at his options, Zeke knew he had a difficult choice in front of him.