Chương 7: The System

Jonathan emerged from the rocky crevice where he'd been resting. His body ached, but it wasn't the bone-weary exhaustion he had felt a few hours before. He studied his surroundings properly for the first time since he'd begun fighting. With each of his battles, he thought it would be his last and allowed his awareness to lapse. Despite that, he felt that his surroundings were almost identical to those he'd seen when he first entered the rift and then followed the signs of battle from the rock troll's ambush point.

Massive rock formations stretched toward the sky, giving the impression that the sky was much closer than it should be. The formations had weathered surfaces with rounded edges that seemed to create natural walls and passages through the landscape. Vegetation clung to life in the cracks between the stones, and the occasional withered tree reached toward the oversized sun with bare branches.

The sun hung lower in the sky than he recalled, and he checked his watch only to remember that technology didn't seem to work properly in this strange world. The screen on his Garmin was off, with none of the proper time or graphics displayed. If he had to estimate, he felt as if five or six hours had passed since he entered the Rift. The position of the sun told him that there would likely only be a few more hours before sunset. Its bloated size made the rocky formations throw strange shadows across the landscape.

Something skittered across the nearby rock, drawing his attention. A creature about the size of a small rat with a hard shell similar to the troll's disappeared into one of the cracks in the ground. The creatures reminded Jonathan that life would find a way to survive even in a hostile environment where the vegetation was bare and the sun was hot. Jonathan moved carefully through the terrain, staying close to the larger formations as he scanned his surroundings. He thought through his next steps.

His boots found secure footing, and despite his exhaustion, he did his best to lift his feet to prevent the tough soles from scraping on the rocky ground. After moving some distance away from his hiding place and in the direction of his last fight, Jonathan crouched and looked up at the sky. He could see a half dozen scavenger birds circling what he could only assume would be the fallen bodies of the rock trolls.

He didn't have a reason to return to the scene of the fight, so he angled his approach away from where he knew the murky water would be and back toward the main camp. Before long, the guttural sounds of the troll camp carried on the air even before he found a vantage point to look down on the camp once again. The position he found didn't have as good a vantage point as his first, but he could see that the camp was in a state of unrest.

The trolls moved around the camp with purpose, sharpening their weapons and gathering around the small fires. As he watched, he realized that his initial assessment may have been too low. Even with the seven that he killed, there were still at least twenty that he could count. He wondered if those others had been lazing in the shade of the caves against the far wall. He created space from the camp and circled around to a position he'd seen previously.

A plan was beginning to form in his mind of how he could assault the camp. He knew that it was reckless, but he didn't care. Jonathan had come here to fight, to get revenge, and potentially die. He should have been dead just fighting against one of these monsters, let alone three. The thought of attacking a camp of 20 seemed like a death wish. When Jonathan reached the spot between two boulder formations, he settled in.

It created a thick barrier between himself and the camp and had just enough space for him to stand up and move around. He was thankful that the trolls seemed too stupid or too lazy to set up any kind of watch or guard rotation. Once nestled into the small space, Jonathan checked his remaining gear. He lost his main pack somewhere at the first fight, not even remembering when he had taken it off in his rage. His rifle and pistol were gone, as was the combat knife he carried with him through eight deployments.

He set down both of the axes he had been carrying and removed his torn shirt. He shifted the shirt around until he found a somewhat clean section and used it to wipe the dried blood from his face. The sweat from his face mingled with the flakes of red and black, allowing them to wipe off easily. He stared at the shirt for a moment, noting that there was quite a bit of red blood mixed in with the darker troll's blood.

Figuring that some amount of protection from the sun was better than none, he put the ragged shirt back over his head. The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Jonathan sat on the ground and picked up the two axes and put them in his lap. He studied one that he claimed from his earlier fight. The handle was dark wood, worn smooth from use and likely cut from one of the dead trees that dotted the landscape. Dried leather wrapped the grip.

The bottom of the grip was coming loose, leaving a few inches of dangling leather to rest on his leg. From his seated position, he made a chopping motion several times. Despite the axe's primitive appearance, it felt well-balanced and sturdy. The ax head wasn't like anything he'd seen before. Instead of the traditional wedge that he had seen on axes while chopping wood, the stone blade curved outward at both the top and the bottom, ending in wicked points.

The edge between them swept in a deadly arc that had proved capable of biting even into stone flesh. The trolls had wielded the large hatchets effortlessly. When he felt the strength flood his system during the rage, he easily swung the vicious tool. He tested the edge with his thumb and was surprised to note how sharp it was. He performed a few other tests, as he might when looking for a new knife to use in the field. He tapped the flat of the blade against one of the large rock formations and found it sturdy.

The fact that the edge of the blade hadn't chipped during his fight was also a promising sign. Feeling confident that he would be able to use both axes in his attack, Jonathan thought through his plan. It was simple, really. He would use the element of surprise and wait for nightfall. Striking hard and fast on the unprepared, if he was lucky, a few of them would be dead before they even realized he was among them. Keep it simple, stupid. He thought back to some of the strange blue notifications he had dismissed.

While he'd ignored most of them and really didn't like the idea of alien technology appearing in his brain, he thought back to the one that mentioned he had gained the skill. He remembered the window saying that the skill was called [Rending Strike]. He wasn't sure what the skill was or how to use it, but when he wanted to see another blue screen with more information, one appeared in his vision.

While Jonathan was normally stoic and implacable, the sudden and immediate appearance of the blue screen caused him to jump. I'm just on edge. That's all. He looked at the text on the blue screen. [Rending Strike] - Empower a simple strike and cause rending damage to your foe. Despite the fact that Jonathan didn't typically work well with technology, he couldn't help but think about how convenient it might be if these floating windows could simply respond to his thoughts.

He realized that the window had appeared just by simply wishing that it would. He decided to apply the same logic to dismiss it. Rather than telling it to fuck off, he just simply wished that it wouldn't be there and wanted it to go away. When it immediately vanished from his vision, Jonathan smirked and wondered if he would rather continue cursing at the strange screens even if it wasn't necessary. From his seated position, he looked around the small space he was in. It would be hard for him to fall asleep.

He had fallen asleep in deserts before. He knew that exhaustion had killed many soldiers in the past and caused people to react poorly or slowly in critical moments. He also knew that letting his guard down could be a mistake he couldn't afford. Without the ability to set a silent alarm on his watch, he didn't trust his exhausted body to wake up after just a few hours. With how exhausted he felt, he assumed that he would fall asleep and not wake up for at least ten or more hours.

Rather than settling in for a short nap, which could potentially cause him to miss the proper window for an ambush, Jonathan slowly stood and gripped the handle of one of his axes. He swung it back and forth several times, noting the weight and how much power he could get behind the strike depending on how far back he reached. He thought for a moment about how he could potentially activate the [Rending Strike] and decided to apply the same logic used through the windows.

He simply pushed his intent toward activating the skill on his next swing. Jonathan felt an odd sensation tugging from the center of his stomach that traveled up quickly through his arm. He was surprised to note how much faster his arm moved and that the muscles in his bicep flexed in a certain way that caused his arm to bend and drag downward as he struck the air. Frozen, he stood stunned for several heartbeats.

It was odd to have something almost completely take over his body's motion and produce such a strong result. There was enough momentum in the swing that he should have drawn his arm much further back and thrown his full weight into the blow; instead, that strike had seemed to be powered all on its own. Is this a 'skill'? He looked at the axe in wonder. He performed the action again and once again felt an odd tugging sensation from his center mass.

After the second test, it felt clear to Jonathan that the skill required some amount of resource, though he didn't feel any more tired than a few moments before. Worried that using the skill may be costly, Jonathan decided to set it aside, thinking that if it had limited uses, he should save it for the assault. Settling back down onto the rocky ground, he placed one of the hatchets on each side of his legs for easy access and leaned against the warm stone.

With several hours of time to kill, he began thinking through how he'd been performing so far during his time in the Rift. He thought back to the notifications that had been appearing in his vision and realized that he hadn't taken the time to figure out what free points were or how they worked. It took a bit of time and fumbling around.

Eventually, Jonathan was able to access his status window and was stunned to see that it resembled a character sheet from the old Dungeons & Dragons game he played a few times in high school.