Metem: A LitRPG Progression Fantasy

The platform pushed upward for many moments before jerking to a stop. Cory stood in darkness until he began to make out the slightest contour of the area he found himself in. Spots of wall and floor began fade into existence, their surfaces denoted by a slight blue hue.

After a few seconds Cory stopped squinting and the room became more clear. Much like the old military night vision goggles detected and amplified light, Cory could now make out his surroundings. Instead of the military green, Cory's world came through in fuzzy blue.

Night Vision, he thought, a wry smile cresting his lips.

Whether a passive skill or a trait inherent to his new avatar, Cory didn't care, he had Night Vision! It wasn't perfect but it gave him the necessary spatial awareness required to soothe any rampant claustrophobia.

He could make out that he was in a small domed cave, no more than ten feet high. The surface glowed a light blue except for a black hole on what appeared to be the other side of where he stood. As he stepped towards the door-sized blackness the blue illumination followed; ending roughly fifteen away.

He continued forward until he could make out that a tunnel was being exposed by the blue particles. At the mouth of the cave, Cory reached up and ran his hands across the cold, uneven stone. Turning, he could make out the size of the entire room he had been hoisted into, but as he stepped into the tunnel the far wall fell dark. Curious, Cory stepped back in the room and it returned to full light.

Limited Night Vision, Cory corrected.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

The sound of skittering came to Cory's ears.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Its coming from up the tunnel, Cory figured.

Of course it's coming from the tunnel asshole, he reprimanded himself mentally. It's not coming from the fucking empty room we just left!

Taking a deep breath and reminding himself that he was just in some broken ass game, Cory stepped into the tunnel to find a way out.

It was slow going at first. He found that if he stood up close to the side of the tunnel, the rough contour and rocky crevasses could be seen clearly. Yet moving to the other side he could only make out that an obstruction was there. He tested the clarity of his sight by moving towards and then away from the side of the tunnel. An outsider might think that Cory was preparing to charge and possibly tackle the cave wall but lacked the necessary courage to attempt such a feat.

After finding his range, Cory felt better about placing one foot in front of the other. Though he couldn't see far, he could see the ground and that eased his mind a bit. Traps, pitfalls and trip wires were rarely eye level and falling up usually wasn't a thing. Just in case though, he had unsheathed his sword and was holding it out in front of him like an unlit torch.

It wasn't long before he heard the skittering noise again but it was faint, distant. His imagination ran at full tilt as he journeyed through the tunnel. At a slight upward slant, the walls were getting noticeably closer and he could now touch the ceiling with his outstretched fingertips. The compressing nature of the space made him worry that another pathway had been passed or a ledge missed; he reluctantly pressed forward.

The dry, dead air he had first experienced in the cave had introduced the odor of fresh mold. Roughly five more minutes of walking he could start to taste stale moisture. He would pause randomly to listen, and move on when nothing could be detected, the whole time pleading with his imagination to tone it down.

Eventually the slightest sound of a plinking noise entered his ears. Like a dinner bell being rung from a distance, the sound stopped his forward progress. A few moments later he heard it again. After the fifth time he heard it his feet returned to a slow walk.

Hopefully water, he thought.

It wasn't long until he rounded another corner that Cory came face to face with… himself. Light had begun to illuminate from, "another goddamn mirror" Cory cursed. A small blank name template hovered in the open space of the reflection, pulsing with a slight plinking sound.

"What now?" He asked the mirror, annoyance evident.

"Who Are You" a magical voice chimed from everywhere at once.

"We've already covered that," he replied while considering smashing the mirror with his weapon.

"Name Thyself" the voice whispered.

A silver oval sat atop a small rectangular box that floated in the open space of the mirror. Inside the oval was what could only be described as a mugshot of his avatar.

Username? Cory wondered.

Catching on to what was happening, Cory tamed his ever preset frustration to lean against the tunnel wall to consider a name. For consistency purposes Cory had always stuck with one username. Well, it started off as a consistency thing but as the online world exploded with people, names became precious and changing them expensive. Naming conventions became an unforeseen issue as using personal names was generally frowned upon… for reasons. It had gotten unnecessarily worse before it got better.

Eventually there was a movement in the late 40's that allowed for a one-time free name change that could be used after your twenty-first birthday. A large group of Users that had given themselves usernames in their teenage years proved to make finding a job difficult in their future. It was hard to take someone seriously named BroomStickDick8008. Likewise, regardless of education and experience, nobody was going to get medical treatment from someone called STD4u.

Naming things was hit or miss with Cory. It either came to him right away or required some elaborate, 4D Venn diagram to really hone in on the proper moniker. Unwilling to let this drag him through some existential crisis Cory took a couple moments to ease his mind.

General claustrophobia from being trapped in the broken game, compounded by an ever shrinking cave system full of faulty, cryptic mirrors could take a toll on a person. Before Cory's disgruntled disposition could render him useless, he thought about the basics. Two basic, simple questions:

"What do I know? What don't I know?" Cory whispered to himself.

Cory's grandfather had imparted this knowledge on him from an early age. He would say, "When you're stuck, confused or lost about anything? Anything! You hear, an-ee-thing," Papa would punctuate. "You ask yourself two questions: "What do I know?" and "What don't I know?" indicating with his hands as if one could outweigh the other. He would then kneel down to Cory's eye level, and with a wry smile would finish, "That's where you start the search."

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

For the longest time it was a confusing piece of advice, mostly because Cory thought he knew it all, but Papa was a broken record about it, so it stuck with him. It wasn't until he was much older that he started to use the thought process. When it helped, Cory hoped his face had the same wry smile as grandfather had all those years ago. The only thing he said more to a young Cory was, "So, my copious ball of energy, are we going to find a way or make one?"

"Name Thyself," the magical voice stated, braking Cory from his nostalgia.

"Copious" he said with no level of uncertainty.

"Copious" he repeated, not waiting for the mirror to egg him on.

A soft ping sounded, echoing down the tunnel. Ambient light pulsed from inside the mirror. Electricity raced through the empty expanse until it poured out of the mirror and down the tunnel he had been traveling. Streaks of erratic light lit up the space as they into the distance creating a tremendous echo like multiple whips lashing at random. It left a scent in the air reminiscent of a thunder storm.

In a blink, the lightning particles returned, sucking wind and loose rocks with it. As the lightning and debris filled back into the void of which it had come, the mirror began to crumple into itself until it morphed and mutated into a shiny silver key, which quickly clattered to the cave floor.

When he picked the key off the ground, the now mirrorless wall that blocked his path somehow shifted and moved, revealing a wooden door. Opening his interface he saw something new for the first time. There was a name at the top center of the otherwise blank window. Cory huffed and muttered, "Kopius, with a K."

The silver key was nothing special. No distinctive features or engravings, just plain, much like the wooden door now in front of him. Taking a giant leap in logic, Kopius placed the key in the keyhole and turned. The key blinked out of existence leaving glittering residue floating in the air, some clinging to his pale blue skin like a bunch of remora on a shark.

The door exploded in a poof; sending sawdust into the air. Kopius quickly moved the hand holding the tangled mess of a sword sheath to his nose but he was already sneezing. The particles swarmed him as he was coughed on verge of gagging, batting away the chemistry experiment gone wrong with his free hand.

When the dust settled and his coughing subsided, Kopius could see a larger open space beyond the threshold: a small enclave, with scattering of large boulders and a sliver of light coming from somewhere deeper inside. The area relieved him of the congestive nature of the tunnel, earasing hte idea that he had missed another route along the way.

Stepping through the space where the door had once been, Kopius tried to get an angle to the light source. He had a poor vantage point as juts of large rocks covered the area blocking most of his line of sight. The ceiling, jagged and uneven, headed a steep upward angle but the source of light still beyond what he could see.

His attention was diverted when, to his alarm, the tick-tick-tick sound had returned and now it was clattering. Thankfully for Kopius, the minimal amount of light amplified his Night Vision, giving him a clear–but not total–view of the entire space and any lurking dangers. He scanned the area, opting to remain by the doorway, the sound growing louder as if keeping pace with his thumping heart.

Something moved quickly from between a crack of two giant boulders, capturing his focus. A few breathless moments later and the creature creating the noise rounded the corner. Kopius remained still, unwilling to even exhale as the beast came into full view.

The wiener dog-sized monster had six short legs that came to points at the end, each footfall ticking off the stones, creating an echo inside the space. The sound would have been pleasantly rhythmic had it not been created by such an ominous creature. The beast bore a long forward snout with two sickle-like pincers at the end; it moved like a spider. Its segmented body gave him insect vibes, while its six eye glinted in the low light.

The distance between them made specific details difficult to notice, but what he could make out looked like an anteater with scorpion legs. The forward pincers were the size of pipe wrench and Kopius was not interested to see what other dangers the thing might possess.

He tried to take a cautious step back into the tunnel he had emerged from but–ever so gently–scraped the cave floor with his strap-on Birkenstocks.

Rookie mov- was all the chastising he could manage before the beast turned and charged without hesitation. The monster raced across the surface, hissing like a snake ready to strike. It closed the distance quicker than Kopius could complain; or flee.

In an open area, with space to move, Kopius would have had some wiggle room to dodge this Dr Moreau reject, but that wasn't the case here. The small monsters legs pumped with purpose as it skittered cross the ground leaving behind the gentle tick-tick-ticks for a more violent, uzi-like cadence. His heart rated tripled as the thing bore down on him and fear gripped his lungs.

The monsters zigged and zagged just before pouncing at his midsection. Kopius juked to one side, slipped on some loose gravel, but still managed to dodge the threat wiit a lurch in the other direction. Before he could turn to face his foe, Kopius was flipped off his feet, thrown onto his back as his feet were pulled out from under him. He hit the ground with a hard thud, knocking his held breath his lungs.

He managed to keep ahold of his weapon but lost his grip on the sheath sending it sprawking across the stone floor. Kopius tried to stand but his foot was wrenched out from him again abd his sword made a loud CLANG when i slapped the surface.

The damn thing has a tail too!! Kopius thought in surprise as he saw something wrapped about his ankle.

The monster's tail had been used like a whip to secure and pull his foot. The spider-wiener, as Kopius would later describe it, kept jerking Kopius back on his butt until turning to face him. They were face-to-snout and Kopius got a close up view of the things ugly mug, with all of it saliva and other viscera spewing from its gashing maw.

Its mouth, lined with tiny spikes, froth dripped and it snapped at him wildly. Pincers, like wicked ant mandibles, writhed on both sides. Not waiting for this dog show reject to grow anymore bold, Kopius used his foot and rammed his heel into the open hole of the monster. In the same motion he swung his sword hand down trying to sever the tail.

He hacked and chopped with fury, unsure that his sword was even sharp enough to cut through a wet paper bag. Half of his strikes missed, while others made the monster squeal and jerk. It took several chops of his oversized butterknife until the tail cut loose, and when it did the beasts screech ripped through the tunnel like feedback through a speaker.

A moment later Kopius was the one screaming as the creature's pincers took a deep bite into his forearm weilding the sword, just above his wrist, and latched on. Like a vise grip, the sharp ends punctured his bracer and skin, squeezing practically to the bone. For the briefest of moments, eyeballs only feet apart, the two combatants sung the ballad of their agony to one another.

Kopius was the first to stop squealing as the pain quickly fled and he could no longer grasp his weapon; his hand fully limp.

Realizing he was about to be paralyzed, poisoned or otherwise f'ed, Kopius somehow spun himself to his feet and pulled at the pincers lodged in his arm. The spider-wiener tried to jerk him back down but Kopius had his balance. The pincers were locked tight and the numbing sensation was growing towards his elbow.

"Not today asshole!" Kopius yelled in half panic.

With no small amount of terror, instead of trying to free the pincers, Kopius took a hold of the long snout with his free hand and twirled. Using his heels as a fulcrum, Kopius gave his best impression of a hammer throw spin before smashing the monster into the side of the cave with a might crash. The creature held.

He used his momentum and spun to the other side of the cave and struck the wall like he had just found gold. When that didn't shake the thing free he lifted the it high and used the ground as if it were an anvil.

The hard outer carapace finally cracked against the stone floor but Kopius slipped witht he final blow, sending them both to the ground. The creatures' feet were flailing about trying to find purchase in anything and the pincers were no looser than they were before. Without its tail, the monster lacked the ability to right itself, or throw Kopius off balance.

Not being one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Kopius located his weapon with his good hand and started to hacked, slash and chop at the pincers until they severed free. The creature mewled and screeched, the sound scratching every follicle in his mind. Not that Kopius had any sympathy for the beast, but that the cave echo acoustics were relentless.

Kopius reaffirmed the grip of his short sword as the legs of the monster danced to their final tune. He located its face and looked in all six eyes before plunging his sword in the beasts open mouth, all the way to the hilt.

The legs stopped moving as did every other bodily function; it whimpered and died. Kopius collapsed to the ground and rolled to his back. A blank notification window popped into his field of vision and he closed it. He was exhausted, drained; fearful that he might lose his appendage. His injured arm was limp and bleeding with the pincers still firmly lodged in place. The numbing had stopped just above his elbow but that brought him little solace.

It wasn't until some sensation returned to his arm that he was able to begin the process of collecting himself. After many moments of catching his breath, he let out a pitiful sigh and shadow boxed with his one good arm until he wasn't sure if he was laughing or crying.