Chương 42: Choices

I did not become cooler than my dog. I discovered some cool stuff on my status screen, though. By the time I confirmed my next five levels, up to Level 15, I'd picked up another 20-point attribute milestone, this one for Resilience. It was: Return to Sender: What doesn't break you, bounces back. Every time you are targeted by a condition effect (such as fear, charm, stun, or confusion), you have a chance equal to (Resilience x 2)%, up to a maximum of 80%, for the effect to rebound onto an opponent in range.

I didn't love it, but at least it wasn't something I had to think about. I kept discovering that my [Invisible Armor] had worn off the hard way when bug guts touched my skin instead of sliding off an invisible layer between me and the universe. [Return to Sender] seemed like it would just work. Well, once in a while it would work. At 20 Resilience, it only had a 40% chance to trigger. I also got to choose another ability.

All of my original skipped options were still available: [Green Thumb], [Improvised Arsenal], [Verdant Reprisal], and [Threshold Ward], but my three new choices were [Edge of Life], [Creature Bond], and [Mana Absorption]. I'd wanted a healing skill when I'd been picking out abilities earlier, but [Edge of Life] was not the healing ability of my dreams. It wasn't quite like Zelda's [Never Say Die], but it was close. The tooltip read: Edge of Life: The closer you are to death, the faster the recovery.

This active channeling ability draws on the strength of your Endurance and Resilience to heal physical injuries, with the speed of the healing increasing the lower your current HP. May be used on yourself or an ally. I had to read the description a few times, but it sounded as if I were badly hurt I'd be able to heal faster. Not with a wave of my hand suddenly magically repairing damage, but more like my Wild Sanctuary's healing-over-time effect.

The worse I was hurt, the faster I could heal, either myself or someone else. I didn't like it, especially because I'd been hanging back while fighting with the dogs. If Riley took damage, I didn't want to have to get beat up myself to take care of him. Plus, while my Resilience was fine, my Endurance was pretty low. I had a bunch of free attribute points, so I could increase it, but that felt like a big commitment to a not-great ability.

It seemed like something I might take if I were in desperate trouble, but since I wasn't in desperate trouble at the moment, it wasn't all that appealing. [Creature Bond] was more interesting, and probably what I ought to take, but I still hesitated. Creature Bond: Not all pack animals start out as pets. You may attempt to bind a weakened creature into your service. Success is based on the target's condition and your Will.

A bound creature does not gain the benefits of a soul bond, and will not be an available target for [Pack Instinct], but may gain experience and levels comparable to true bonded companions. It was just like Pokemon, right? Beat the creature down until it's nearly dead, then shove it into a little ball, call it your ally, and pretend it's a friend. It might even act like a friend, but wasn't that really Stockholm Syndrome in action? It was slavery-lite. Maybe not even so lite.

I wasn't a vegetarian, although I did pay extra for free-range eggs. And the middle of the apocalypse was a weird time to be worrying about the ethical treatment of monsters. But this ability felt styled after the kind of dog training that turned my stomach. Shock collars and obedience and demands for perfection, instead of rewards and boundaries and the careful, slow building of a relationship based on trust and affection. That worked for some people. I wasn't one of them. Obviously, I was being ridiculous.

Who has moral qualms about the treatment of a monster that you're trying to kill? Whatever creature I bonded with would probably be delighted to survive. But would I need to bring it home with me? Let it into the house? Have it share a dog bed with Riley? Maybe if I'd seen more creatures than giant bugs and terrifying lizards, I would have felt a little more enthusiastic. Instead, I took a closer look at [Mana Absorption]. Mana Absorption: What doesn't kill you makes you stronger.

You may draw hostile or ambient mana into yourself. The effects vary depending on source and intensity. Absorption may strengthen, weaken, or alter you, and in unstable environments it may change local conditions. Clearly, no. Why would anyone choose this ability? Weaken or alter me? Thank you, pass. I reread the three descriptions of the abilities one more time, then sighed. I didn't know what to do.

It was like looking at college brochures, trying to decide who looked more like future friends: kids on a lawn or kids on a sidewalk. But the pictures were staged and the kids long gone. The decision I made might shape the rest of my life, but I didn't know what the right decision was. Or how to make it. Maybe I should take one of the previous options? I'd wanted [Threshold Ward] before, and now that I was out of the challenge scenario and back in real life, such as it was, maybe [Green Thumb] would be a good idea?

Except I had a rift with a Dollar General. I wasn't going to go hungry anytime soon, and I was pretty sure I could grow some basic veggies—tomatoes, peas, the easy stuff—without any help from magic. As long as I could find the seeds, anyway. This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. So [Threshold Ward], that had to be the right choice. But were the new abilities better, since they were only offered at a higher level? I blinked away from my HUD.

Chelsea was sitting across the table, her hands folded in front of her face as if she were praying, staring at me so intently that I was surprised my face wasn't burning from her gaze.

"Um, did you want something?" I asked.

"Of course not," she replied.

"Personalized interface construct, remember? My sole function is to make the System more accessible to you, delivering information, options, and guidance to support your development as a future potential citizen of the Multiverse." The emphasis that she put on the word "guidance" was as obvious as if she'd jumped up and down and waved her arms in the air while saying it. I smothered my smile, and said, voice as dry as desert sand, "Would you care to offer some guidance on which ability I should pick at Level 15?"

"Mana Absorption," Chelsea said, so fast the words tumbled over one another.

"I can hardly believe you've been offered it so early." I blinked at her.

"Mana Absorption?" I pulled up the description, even though I hadn't forgotten it, and read aloud.

"Absorption may strengthen, weaken, or alter you, and in unstable environments it may change local conditions. How can that possibly be a good thing?"

"It's a rift skill. Those unstable environments are rifts. It's not easy, you'll have to practice, and yeah, there are potential downsides, but it's high risk, high reward." I stared at the description again. What doesn't kill you makes you stronger. How was I supposed to make sure it didn't kill me? I was one hundred percent skeptical.

"Most people start with Mana Sense and upgrade to Mana Sight before they get Mana Absorption or Mana Manipulation. Mana Manipulation would be amazing, too. It's so powerful. You can do so much with mana manipulation. Lift things, move them, change them—the possibilities are endless. But Mana Absorption has just as much potential if you get creative with it, and I'm sure you will." I was not so sure. In fact, I was already shaking my head no.

I didn't want to get creative, I didn't want to be altered, and I didn't want to fight with a skill that could 'weaken' me. [Threshold Ward] was looking better every second. Chelsea smiled at me, but the smile didn't reach her eyes.

"Do you…" She stopped speaking before finishing.

"Do I what?"

"Do you want me to tell you why you can't resist Mana Absorption and why I know it's the skill for you?" Ugh. No. I didn't want [Mana Absorption]. I didn't want to be altered or weakened or to have to fight for my life any more than the stupid apocalypse already required.

"Yes," I said with a sigh.

"In the coming weeks, four different types of entities will try to kill you." Chelsea's voice had shifted, losing some of its warmth. More clinical now, as if she were delivering a diagnosis.

"First, your fellow human beings." I felt my stomach drop a little. I'd been expecting monsters and magical nonsense, not this. Chelsea shrugged, but there was something tight around her eyes.

"I'm sorry to have to say it, but you know, you're not a peaceful species. It'll happen."

"Great. Just great." I rubbed my temples.

"What else?"

"Second, rift-born creatures. Like the bugs." Her tone brightened as if she were relieved to move on to something easier.

"They'll regenerate in the rifts. Kill them today and they'll be back tomorrow." That was comforting in a twisted way. At least I didn't have to feel guilty about the giant beetles.

"Third, entities that traverse the rifts from the other gates. Some will be innately hostile, threatening to all life on your planet. Others might become future allies. You'll have to discover the distinctions for yourself."

"How am I supposed to tell the difference?"

"Experience. Trial and error." Chelsea's expression was almost apologetic.

"I wish I could give you a better answer." I waited, because clearly there was a fourth type, and from the way she was hesitating, it was going to be the worst one.

"But fourth, and currently most oppressive to the fellow inhabitants of your planet, the mana-crazed. The System protects those within its reach from the affliction. Your dogs, that other creature residing within your home, they won't become mana-crazed. The System is already supporting them. But every other lifeform living on your planet is susceptible to the poisoning caused by an influx of mana."

"Every other lifeform?" I asked.

"Palmetto bugs? Mosquitoes?" She shrugged.

"Birds, definitely. Squirrels, raccoons, deer. The coyotes you were worried about. Maybe the bugs. Whatever it reaches, though, Mana Absorption is an ability that allows you to pull the mana away from them, taking it upon yourself, and releasing them—at least for a time—from the madness." Fuck. I opened my HUD and accepted [Mana Absorption] as my Level 15 ability. After accepting the skill, I confirmed one more level, putting me at Level 16.

My attributes were now: Physical Strength: 5 (+10%) = 6 Agility: 5 (+10%) = 6 Endurance: 5 (+10%) = 6 Mental Intelligence: 5 (+10%) = 6 Perception: 34 (+10%) = 38 Resilience: 22 (+10%) = 24 X-Factor Presence: 3 (+10%) = 3 Serendipity: 10 (+10%) = 11 Will: 32 (+10%) = 35 Free: 15 Fifteen free points. It was probably time to do something useful with them.

"How should I use my attributes?" I asked Chelsea.

"There are no bad choices," she told me. She seemed distracted, her head tipped to one side, her gaze on Zelda. Zelda was looking back at her, eyes alert. It wasn't her "Treat, please?" look or her "Outside, now?" look, but I felt like some wordless form of communication was taking place. In dogs, an extremely direct stare can be a threat, a way of asserting power, but Zelda wasn't that kind of dog. Her direct stare was unusual for her.

Still, she didn't seem upset, and she definitely wasn't being aggressive, so I let it go. I had enough to worry about without trying to eavesdrop on my dog's conversations with the System. At earlier levels, I'd gotten traits when I reached ten and twenty points in an attribute, but my Perception and Will stats were well past thirty points now, and I hadn't gotten any new ones. Were the traits done? Maybe they appeared when the totals doubled, so I'd get another one at forty.

I could find out by adding two more points to Perception, my highest stat. But Perception, Will, and, to a lesser degree Resilience, were going to keep growing much faster than my other stats. I probably ought to use my free points for the attributes that wouldn't increase on their own. Will was lovely, of course—it was nice to know that I really was as stubborn as people had always told me I was—but if I'd been choosing my attributes, I'd have picked Agility over Perception. Or maybe Intelligence.

I know, I know, it was my own fault for letting the System make all the decisions. I should have read my messages. Too late now, though. That said, the System seemed to have made excellent choices for me. Left to my own devices, I'd be a dead mage by now.

Ironic, really, that given all the systems I'd been stuck in during my life—the educational system, the medical system, the judicial system—only the one run by actual aliens wanted me to make my own choices, while also making better choices for me than I could make for myself. Was it irony if it wasn't actually funny?