Jack laid atop the quilt of his borrowed bed. A nervous energy had long since claimed his sleep, and despite his initial intentions to begin the Class Selection the moment he’d closed his bedroom door, he delayed now.

  It wasn’t hesitation or cold feet. It was just that the full weight of this next decision would alter his life forever. This wasn’t some game. This was his life, and a poor choice now could spell the ruin of this entire planet. He knew he had to be careful. At the same time, he couldn’t fully expel just how freaking awesome this was going to be.

  Finally, he was going to get stronger. Not just with stats, but with real magic and real skills—powers and abilities that would let him rise above the conflicts he was currently drowning in. A part of him acknowledged the wisdom in sleeping now. He’d be so much more level-headed come the morning. But if he waited any longer, his curiosity and need for answers would drive him mad.

  In the end, it was Jack’s momentum that got the best of him. He could rest later. Now, it was time to get stronger. Every moment he postponed was another minute that Jane thought he’d given up on her.

  That was unacceptable.

  [Congratulations! Through effort and combat, you are now eligible for Class Selection. Please confirm, and the Class Selection will begin.]

  Jack pressed the ‘Confirm’ option with a quick mental command. His screens disappeared. Feeling suddenly quite exposed, he rumpled the edges of the quilt into his fists. Outside his window, the wind started to pick up, buffeting the house until it creaked and groaned. He shivered as a prickling sensation sent goosebumps across his skin.

  [Prepare for teleportation to Admin’s Domain]

  The message flashed across Jack’s vision at the same moment a crackling blue outline of a door formed beneath him, parallel with the bed. It was identical in color to the other system messages. He rose to his feet to get a better look at the portal. It was as far removed as one could get from the one that had taken him from Earth. That one had been a black whirlpool of darkness that seemed to eat away at the edges of reality, and that wasn’t even taking into account the white chains that had bound him.

  This rectangular portal was composed of crisp lines and what he could only describe as stable, even static, energy. No chains shot out from within its opaque center to wrangle his appendages and neck. No ominous cloud of dread descended on him as it had when he’d nearly died in Riviero’s gym.

  [Teleportation commencing in 3…]

  The portal whirred to life, its stained-glass sheen replaced by what appeared to be a long corridor leading downward.

  [2…]

  “Wait, what?” Jack gasped, suddenly unsure whether he should jump into the portal, lie back down, or wait for something else to happen.

  [1…]

  “Dammit!” he shouted, making a snap decision and diving for the portal.

  [Teleportation commencing.]

  Right as his fingers touched the surface of the thin blue rectangle, he felt vertigo sweep over his entire body. He was sucked in with an incredible force, Olric’s guest room disappearing in a single heartbeat.

  Jack fell.

  He flipped end over end, picking up speed as he descended toward his destiny… Or a quick death. Around him, the blue corridor of crackling energy seemed to extend below forever. There were no ornamentations, filigree, or runes to mark the distance of his passage, though he did get the vague impression that his reflection was partially visible. But as his entry to this in-between place had begun his rotation, he could only barely make out what he must’ve looked like.

  Jack screamed. He wasn’t particularly proud of it, but it seemed the right thing to do when falling down an endless magical tube. A light appeared far below him, whirring in strange patterns with all sorts of bright colors. Disoriented as he was, it was impossible to tell how far away it was. He needn’t have bothered. Jack picked up speed. Soon, the blue corridor was little more than a blur.

  The light rushed to greet him, and he let out a yell right as his body crashed into it.

  Color and sensation exploded across his perception as down became forward. All of his momentum spat him out of the new portal, sending him flying across the new room. Through some strange stroke of luck, he exited the teleportation on his feet, but that just made everything worse. He flew through the room in a sprint, and could barely prepare himself as his speed forced him to collide with the far wall. Jack only had time to register a large red ‘X’ on the wall before he crashed into it.

  His shoulder broke through the thin plaster of the wall, and there was a loud chorus of whoops, shouts, and laughter from behind him. To his utter shock, he was uninjured. Jack took in his new surroundings, and with each new detail he spotted, a mounting horror built in his chest.

  You’ve got to be kidding me.

  He was in a cube-shaped room. The wall he’d been flung into was made of some cheap plaster and cardboard, and as he extricated his limbs from the wreckage, he confirmed that there had once been a large ‘X’ to mark where he was going to end up. While humiliating and odd, that wasn’t what drew his attention.

  It was the linoleum floor that clued him in. It was in pristine condition, but he recognized the obnoxious green immediately. Jack’s gaze swept upward. There was the stage, the large throne of a chair, the cameras, and full audience seating. This was, without a doubt, the same location that Jack had first arrived in after he’d been summoned from Earth.

  It was all the same, and yet it wasn’t.

  Gone was the rot, decay, and neglect. Gone was the long bloodstain that marred a trail across the grimy floor. And gone was the massive wheel of fortune. But everything else wasn’t just in the same place; it seemed to be in pristine condition.

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  Strangest of all, the seats were filled. Hundreds of audience members watched him, abuzz with excitement. Jack watched them as they watched him. They were an eclectic bunch. There were lithe giants with red hair. All of them appeared to be women and considered modesty to be an errant afterthought. They lounged on huge pillows, weapons of all sorts placed within easy reach. Each of the ferocious women watched him with predatory silence, like great cats sizing up their prey.

  Near them were figures dressed in stereotypical fantasy finery. Some of the more averagely sized women wore corsets and cage-framed gowns, while others wore long and overlapping silks. The men in the room wore a combination of kingly suits, gold chainmail, and filigreed jackets. A few even wore crowns. All of them ate from silver and platinum platters, and sipped from ornately etched goblets.

  Every single person looked down at him in some version of amusement and contempt, and Jack understood exactly what he was to them.

  He was entertainment.

  “Welcome, contestant, to your future!” a familiar voice boomed from somewhere on stage, and Jack whirled to locate the bastard.

  “You,” Jack growled, finding Steward leaning against one side of the ancient throne, one hand holding an old-timey microphone.

  “Hiya, Number Twenty-One.” Steward gave him a Cheshire grin. He lifted the mic. “MY LADIES! MY GENTLEMEN! It gives me great joy to introduce our latest contestant! He’s one tough cookie, as the plebeians say, and has made it here in record time! Now, shall we give him his just reward for earning a spot on our show tonight?”

  The crowd roared and laughed in approval.

  “I can’t hear you!” Steward coaxed.

  The crowd shouted even louder, and Jack noticed a few of the audience spill their drinks as they raised them high.

  “That’s better. Now, what say we begin the festivities?” Steward asked, gesturing to Jack with his free hand to approach the center of the stage.

  Gritting his teeth, Jack walked forward out of the rubble. As he did, the unmanned cameras swiveled to follow his movement. Once he stepped up onto the dais, the beam of a headlight snapped on and bathed him in a pillar of light. It made the audience barely visible by comparison, which he supposed was the point.

  “Come on, don’t be shy, Twenty-One!” Steward said teasingly.

  “What in the hell is going on?” Jack demanded, unwilling to play this stupid game for a second.

  The crowd booed.

  “It’s your Class Selection, silly!” Steward admonished. “Through effort, and a good bit of killing, you’ve earned yourself the chance to take your first real step to joining the mighty and powerful of the land.”

  Up close, Jack could see that whatever magic had cleaned up this rotting place had worked wonders on Steward as well. There was no hint of the poison creeping up his neck and face. Only the creature’s eyes gave anything away. Those eyes were the same. They were pools of endless darkness with only two pinpricks of light for his pupils. And in them, Jack saw the barely restrained madness and pain.

  “Why the show?” Jack demanded, covering the distance until he was standing directly in front of Steward. “What’s with all of these illusions? What, scared to show your audience the truth? How close to dying you probably are? Need to put on a good act so that no one knows how weak you really are? How petty you are? Why drag me back here for this charade?”

  Anger boiled in Jack, and he let it. This bastard was the source of so much of his pain and frustration. If he was expecting Jack to just play along so that he could get his class, he had another thing coming.

  Steward’s wicked grin slipped by just a tiny degree, but Jack had seen it. The crack in the armor.

  “You dare defy me in my own domain? How stupid are you, Twenty-One? I can still kill you, you know,” Steward said off the microphone.

  “My name is Jack, you oversized prick,” he shot back.

  “I don’t care, Twenty-One. You Earthlings all start to blend together after a while. Now, do you want a class or not?” Steward asked through clenched teeth, smiling back at his impatient audience every now and then.

  “Not until you answer for everything you’ve done, you bastard. And all things you haven’t done too!” Jack shouted, and he shoved the creature back.

  The moment his hands touched the velvet vest Steward wore over his immaculate suit, the illusion that coated this entire place flashed away, exposing the rot, poison, and ruins. Jack barely had time to glance at the audience, which was filled with corpses, before Steward shoved him back. Hard.

  Jack flew backward, but managed to stay on his feet. Still, behind that one push, he could feel the ocean of power Steward possessed, even in his current state. If he wanted, this monster before him could squish him into the floor with little more than a thought.

  So, why doesn’t he, if he doesn’t care about whether I live or die? Jack wondered.

  As quickly as it had disappeared, the illusion of the faux TV show returned. The crowd’s cheers and chatter came back in a wave of sound as if nothing had gone awry just now.

  They’re all fake, Jack realized.

  That could only mean one thing. This was all an act—a way for Steward to feel like he was in control and everything was fine. Perhaps, this show had once gathered a real audience. Perhaps, this had once been a grand affair, and the elite of Aethros could watch as the next generation took their first steps to join them in power and glory.

  But like Aethros itself, this whole thing was just a shell of what it once was.

  “You will not get any answers from me, Twenty-One. Not until you actually do something useful. I don’t need to remind you that you still haven’t even completed the first and easiest part of your quest. What Banisher can’t even complete part 1 of such a simple quest?”

  Steward scoffed and shook his head.

  “You think you’re special because you got to level 10 without any help?” the creature asked, his tone laced with a bitter venom. “You’re not. Every single Banisher has made it to where you are now. And like every single Banisher, you will choose something stupid and flashy and go out there to either die or flee this place the first chance you get. So, let’s not kid ourselves with that high horse you think you’re on, and get you a class. Shall we?”

  Jack hesitated.

  A part of him wanted nothing more than to leave this miserable place. But he knew that if he rushed this, he would regret it. Plus, Steward hadn’t killed him, despite clearly wanting to. That meant either he couldn’t, or simply had more self-control than Jack gave him credit for.

  Either way, he needed some answers.

  Fine, Jack thought. Let’s play this stupid game of yours.

  “Let’s begin,” Jack said with a resolute nod.

  “Wonderful!” Steward said, his TV show host personality back on full display. “Now…”

  The creature’s voice paused dramatically. Colors blazed to life behind the throne right as all the floodlight shifted away from Jack and Steward and toward the far wall where the wheel had once been. The lights dimmed, and a projection of a thin pool backdropped by shadows took form.

  “SHOW HIS FUTURES!” the crowd chanted, and Jack saw five figures emerge from the shadows.

  And all of them were Jack.