Progenitor's Burden

Chapter 3: Calm Before the Storm



You have torn your anterior cruciate ligament

Injury gained: Torn ACL

Debuff applied: Limping

Limping: Movement is decreased

Time remaining: One hour, after which the injury will be healed.

Sinclair spent a minute or two swearing (I'm sure I read that this is scientifically proven to make it hurt less) before the pain dulled to a level at which he could concentrate again. While the injury was a setback, he couldn't help but feel relieved. The transformation he had gone through had some incredible perks; in the real world—no, wait, this is the real world, it's just gone mad, an injury like this would've sidelined him for months.

With nothing he could really do while he waited out the debuff, Sinclair checked his other notifications.

Your base stats have changed!

+3 Agility

+2 Endurance

+2 Constitution

Although the gains weren't any more extraordinary than the rest of what was going on, they were still substantial. Of particular note was the slight bump in his constitution, which was likely a by-product of pushing past his physical limits. That means that enduring more injuries might be the primary way to increase my health. I'm not sure how I feel about that.

Deciding he had done enough training for one day, he reviewed his stat sheet again while getting ready to take another shower. He would have to do something about these training sessions and needing to shower so much. Maybe he could rig up a rain barrel and a hose, like a makeshift beach shower?

Name: Sinclair Hagerson

Race: Human

Level: 0

Rank: F

Path: None

Class: [blank]

Health: 230

Mana: 170

Stamina: 240

Strength: 28

Agility: 20

Constitution: 23

Intelligence: 17

Willpower: 23

Endurance: 24

Luck: 21

Available Points: 0

His Willpower gains over the day were slightly lower than the gains to the other fields. I'll have to find ways to train Willpower. I guess there's more research to do; I'm glad I like learning stuff, or this would be seriously tedious.

He continued his thoughts out loud, "There's also something here about the Universal Market, and another line about the Dimensional Training Worlds. But they're grayed out. And how about these quests? Am I going to have to deliver food across town for gold? Take medical supplies to a guard with an arrow in his knee?"

He glanced at the time; he had to get ready and call an Uber. Sure, the digital realm was brimming with unanswered questions, but real life and its social obligations awaited.

Calling for a ride where he lived was sometimes a pain. As soon as he knew he was leaving, he would schedule a ride in advance, as it was about the only way to get someone to come out. Even then he still tipped well, to compensate the drivers for coming so far out of their usual—and busier—stomping grounds. .

The cabs were not always on time, but tonight he lucked out and they appeared right on time. The car was a small compact; Sinclair didn't like cars in the first place, due to his height, but his overnight growth made it an even tighter squeeze than usual. The driver's eyes widened in surprise when the car even groaned as he got settled.

Usually, Sinclair tried to make conversation with the driver, but tonight he was feeling too highly strung. Are my friends going to question me all night about what happened with Sharon? The former girlfriend in question hadn't always gotten on well with his friends (Oh come on, be honest, they never got on) but he'd always tried to facilitate good experiences for both sides whenever they all got to hang out.

What on earth am I going to say about my appearance? Surely they'll have questions? How could they not? He had gained over an inch in height and at least fifteen pounds of muscle while his body fat percentage, already low, had plunged further.

"Maybe a loose hoodie and relaxed-cut jeans will hide some of the changes? I doubt it." Sinclair was muttering to himself. "Rose is typically too perceptive of any emotional or physical changes any of us go through."

"You alright there?" the driver asked.

"Yeah I'm good, thanks," responded Sinclair. Smooth, muttering to yourself like a crazy man.

Sinclair's thoughts shifted to his friends, and how each bond had been formed. He had become friends with Alice back in middle school, when she was a petite girl with braces who always sat a row ahead of him. Her reserved demeanor had inadvertently made her a target for bullies who perceived her shyness as a weakness.

They were mistaken.

The day it all changed, a group of boys attempted to push Alice around. Their taunts turned physical, but they soon realized they'd bitten off more than they could chew. When a boy grabbed her arm, Alice used her martial arts training to twist, duck and hurl him over her shoulder! It was a clear message to any other would-be tormentors. It was also then that Sinclair learned one of Alice's hidden talents: behind her delicate appearance lay a fierce martial artist.

Unfortunately—for someone—the situation escalated and a few other kids tried to intervene on the bullies' behalf. Sinclair had already been working his way over, but this prompted him to jump into the fray. Always standing up for the underdog. While, officially, the school had a so-called "zero tolerance" policy on bullying, this more a veil for their inaction. After all, if bullying wasn't tolerated, it couldn't be happening, therefore nothing needed to be done. Sinclair's policy was also one of zero tolerance: confront bullies head-on, with overwhelming force if necessary, and don't tolerate any comments like, "it was just teasing".

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Sinclair and Alice had stood back to back like two ninjas in a buddy cop movie, fighting off the bullies. With that, an unbreakable bond was formed. After the tussle with the boys, Alice and Sinclair stood facing each other, catching their breath. "Hi! Sinclair. Me, I'm me. Sinclair, I mean. You were totally kicking ass but there were some others going to jump you from behind so I thought I should help. Is that OK?"

Still slightly winded and on an adrenaline high, Alice huffed out, "Yeah, I do more one-on-one training in class, I'm not so good with multiples. My name is Alice, what's yours?"

"Sin–"

"I'm kidding, Sinclair"

After that day, they slowly became closer and closer friends. She found that they had very similar interests. Sinclair went to her martial arts competitions, and she would watch whatever competitive sport he was in at the time.

A couple of years later, as they were starting high school, they made friends with Rose and Edward. All four of them were a bit outside the regular school societal 'standards', and it was perhaps inevitable that they'd bond. Rose and Ed had transferred into their high school within a day of each other. Their parents were neighbors and, after attending a school that could have generously been called 'bad', wanted their kids to have a fresh start where, hopefully, they could make new friends at a better school.

The four grew close. They spent endless hours debating the merits of Marvel versus DC (Marvel usually won), watched timeless films like "The Princess Bride," and eagerly attended any nearby Comic-Con event. When it came time to dress up, Rose and Sinclair stole the show as Wreck-It Ralph and Princess Vanellope, while Alice and Ed dazzled as their favorite Marvel characters, Black Widow and Gambit.

Opting for local education after high school was a unanimous decision. The complementary two-year programs at the local community college, funded by the state's lottery budget, offered a practical and economical solution. Given their families' financial constraints, attending an expensive university was not an option for any of them. Rose, always the most book-smart of the group, also took the leap to pursue a bachelor's degree.

The Uber pulled up to the front area and Sinclair thanked his driver and crawled, awkwardly, out of the back seat. Music was already playing, setting a nice vibe. Walking inside, he greeted the staff he knew, along with the regulars littered throughout the main room.

He ordered a new small-batch IPA he hadn't tried—on tap, of course—and started scanning for his friends. Not immediately seeing them, he started walking around the bar until he heard someone say his name. Looking over to the outdoor garden section, he spotted Ed.

Sighing, Sinclair readied himself for the questions he knew were coming. As he walked over, he was watching their faces carefully, so couldn't miss that they were all looking at him strangely. Rose was, without a doubt, smarter than Ed, Alice or Sinclair—possibly combined—and he was expecting her to be the biggest challenge.

Ed, always the most talkative, began. "So, buddy, got any of that magic potion to share? I know the whole break-up thing isn't something you want to discuss, so we can table that for later, but I'm pretty sure we're all wondering why you look even taller and stronger than normal."

Oh. Ed normally doesn't pick up on anything. I must look even more different than I thought. Quickly, Sinclair attempted to explain. "You know how it is after a breakup, right? I have been lifting real hard, trying to distract myself. Plus I've been watching what I eat a lot more, so I'm sure I got my body fat down a bit. Come on, I know we've all been busy lately and haven't seen each other much, but I can't be that different."

Rose added, "A couple of weeks of heavy lifting and eating right doesn't cause that kind of change, Sin. You're taller, too… have you been stretching yourself on a rack or something?"

Sinclair was proud of how much attention they were paying. Annoyed that they were paying that attention to him, but still proud. I don't see a good way out of this, at least, not without gaslighting my own family. There was nothing believable that he could do to prove what happened to him. After all, the truth wasn't believable, either.

"Come on, according to the scale I've only lost fifteen pounds, and I guess I've been a bit depressed, which probably didn't help. I've got new boots too, with thicker soles, so of course I'm taller. Besides magic, there is nothing else it could be."

Alice finally piped up, "What about steroids? Back when you considered competing in strongman competitions, you said everyone did them. I know you thought about it."

Sinclair quickly responded, "I know what I said back then, but we both agreed it wasn't a good idea. I've just been working out, eating better, fighting off depression, and I've got some new boots. I might look a bit different but I can't be that different, right? Besides being constantly hungry and missing you guys. So enough of that. What have you been up to? Group chats only go so far in keeping up with each other."

The three shared a glance. They knew Sinclair well enough to know when they would be stonewalled if they tried to get more out of him.

"Uh huh... I'll play along for now," Ed said. "It's been pretty much the same thing every day for work and around the house. Did you hear that old crazy farmer out your way swears he saw a spaceship lift one of his cows last night and place it in a different field?"

"How is it any different than your alien experience?" Sinclair rebutted.

"Hey man, I told you that in private. Yes, I mi-ight have taken some mushrooms, so I was willing to chalk it up to those, but I wasn't the only one there, and it felt super real."

Rose and Alice were eyeing Ed now. Their faces said they thought he was crazy, but their eyes were dancing with laughter. Halloween was coming, so they would likely get one of those UFO-grabbing-a-cow inflatable suits.

Rose took the chance to jump in, "Things have been tranquil down at the shelter. I finally got promoted to team lead, and I negotiated a pay rise for all the vet techs. It's not much, but a sick day every now and then won't leave me scrabbling for scraps any more".

Alice followed on, "I wish I had good news too. Guys... I've been made redundant. Downsizing in two weeks.They'll be helping us update our resumes and they said they'll provide references. It just sucks to have to find something else...again." As one, the three turned to her with shocked expressions.

"That sucks. At least they are trying to help. Do you have any prospects lined up yet, or are you just riding it out?" Ed asked.

"I had decent savings and they are giving me five weeks' severance pay and unemployment, so I can probably take a couple of weeks to catch up on stuff around the house before looking for new work. They hire pretty quickly in my area of IT, so I am not too worried."

Sinclair watched his friends go back and forth, occasionally asking a question and —even less often—putting his two cents in. He repeatedly found himself distracted by his own questions about what had happened to him. How would it affect his friends? Every story involving someone getting powers had a negative side to it, whether it was a singular lousy guy or a horde of zombies. Wait, are zombies going to be a thing now? I could kill zombies, especially if they are shamblers and not those abominations from Raccoon City.

As the night went on, it crept closer to leaving time, and Sinclair realized that he had already had nine beers and was as sober as when he got there. He groaned inwardly. Do you mean to tell me those bumps in my stats will make catching a buzz impossible now?

The last call was made, and Rose offered to give him a lift home since it was only a few minutes out of her own way. She had come straight to the brewery from work and changed clothes in the car, so now, at least, he could save the thirty or forty dollars it would cost him to call a ride. And, besides, he would get to spend a few more minutes with her.

The car ride home was blighted by a feeling of tension, so instead of waiting and stewing, Sinclair figured he would get it over with. "Rose, what's up? You're being even quieter than normal."

For a moment Rose just sat, silently, and he wasn't sure she would answer. "Sinclair, I know you didn't tell us everything. You know me well enough to know that I can tell when you're being evasive. I'm not asking you to spill because you clearly don't want to talk about it, and I trust you. But, please, don't lie to us. If you don't or can't talk about something, you have every right to keep it to yourself, but know that we are your family and will never judge or criticize you about something important. When you are ready to talk about it, I hope you know we will support you in any way we can."

Sinclair sat there and listened, feeling guilty. What was I supposed to do? How do you tell someone you woke up with strange screens in your face and the ability to rapidly increase in size, strength, intelligence, and agility? Even so, part of him knew that he should keep faith with his friends, and trust them to keep faith with him. Hell, they had all seen him without a shirt. If all else failed, he could show them the white lines all over his torso. They showed that something had happened, even if they found the actual truth hard to stomach.

"Rose, I don't want to lie to you guys, but I can't talk about it right now. Give me a few days, and I will try to explain what is going on the best I can. I am not in any danger, nor am I hurting myself, I promise. I will tell you guys everything as soon as I know more. And, Rose... thank you for being blunt."

They sat there for several minutes, watching the trees go by, taking the winding road to his house. When the silence continued to stretch, Rose broke just before he did. "Thank you, Sinclair. You don't owe us an explanation, but I am glad you trust us enough to tell us—once you're ready, that is."

With the awkwardness in the atmosphere dispersed, the two friends listened to music and chatted about some of the latest events in their lives. He opened up a bit about his relationship and admitted that although he was sorry it was over, he already knew it was on the way there no matter what he did. She went on to tell him that she was tentatively talking to someone online. They weren't sure it would be a "thing," but time would tell. They eventually got to his house, and he climbed out of her car.

Walking up the front steps to his house felt weird. This was the first day of his new life, and so much had happened. He had stats like some sort of video game come to life, his chest had weird markings all over it, and there was an unknown being out there watching him. It couldn't possibly get any weirder, right?


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