Chapter Twelve: Choices

  I did not become cooler than my dog.

  I did discover 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 invisble 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 like if I was 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 the kind of thing that I might take if I was 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 [Bond Amplification] or [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 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 whether a bunch of kids on a lawn or kids on a sidewalk looked more like future friends, even though the pictures were staged and the kids were long gone.

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  Whatever decision I made might shape the rest of my life, but I had no idea 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 be going hungry anytime soon, and I was pretty sure I could manage to grow some basic veggies—tomatoes, peas, the easy stuff—without any help from magic. If I could find seeds.

  So [Threshold Ward], that had to be the right choice. Except it felt obvious that the abilities that came at higher ranks were likely to be better abilities.

  I blinked away from my HUD. Chelsea was sitting across the table from me, her hands folded in front of her face like she was 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.” Chelsea clapped her hands. “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 super powerful. There’s so much you can do with mana manipulation. Lift things, move things, change things—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. It was noticeable because Chelsea—okay, this model of Chelsea, this simulation—always reflected the real Chelsea, and the real Chelsea’s smile always reached her eyes. She had a round face, prominent cheekbones, eyes that were a warm brown and even though she couldn’t have been more than forty, her laugh lines were visible. When she smiled, the warmth was almost palpable. But this Chelsea’s smile was close to sad. The laugh lines didn’t squeeze closed the way they should have.

  “Do you…” She stopped speaking.

  “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, there will be four types of creatures trying to kill you.” Chelsea’s voice had shifted, losing some of its warmth. More clinical now, like she was 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 slightly, as if she was relieved to move on to something easier. “They’re not sapient, and their lives are not meaningful in the way you might ascribe meaning to them. Kill them today and they’ll be back tomorrow.”

  That was almost comforting, in a twisted way. At least I didn’t have to feel guilty about the giant beetles.

  “Third, beings that traverse the rifts from the other breaches.” Chelsea paused, and I caught her glancing at her hands. “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?” The question came out sharper than I’d intended.

  “Experience. Trial and error.” She looked up at me, and for a moment her 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...” She stopped entirely, pressing her lips together.

  “Yes?”

  “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.