Steve Adesina trudged under the hot, West African sun, beads of sweat pearling on his brow as he pulled an enormous wooden cart stuffed to the gills with food, clothing, and even a few items that had been produced by artisans through the System’s auspices. He sighed heavily as he wiped his forehead with a bit of soiled rag that was already mostly saturated and mostly just pushed the sweat around his face. As a former Ambassador and Secretary General of Benin’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs, Steve had not expected his second chance at life to turn out like this. And, as always, the menial labor gave him plenty of time to regret his former choices.
Just a few months ago, after modern science had failed to rid him of the cancer that had metastasized through his failing body, he had returned from Paris to Cotonou so that he could die surrounded by his friends and family. The bombing of Porto Novo and the subsequent arrival of the System had changed everything.
Steve had been lying in bed, writing his own obituary, when a thunderous boom shook the entire house. A moment later, the lights flickered for a moment before going out. Whatever had happened, the country’s power system was overwhelmed after losing the power lines that brought electricity in from Nigeria. All of this flashed through Steve’s mind in an instant as his body instinctively jerked away from the overwhelming noise and crashed to the floor, ripping out his IV in the process. The man lay on the plush carpet, gathering his strength for an attempt to haul his weakened frame to its feet, when golden letters appeared in the air: the System.
At first, Steve thought that the System had arrived to save him. Not only did it lend new strength to his emaciated body through an Achievement, it also somehow transformed the inherent mutational power of the stage four cancer riddling his body, converting it into a powerful boon that it claimed made up for the poor state of his body.
At first, Steve had taken this Special Ability as a sign that greater things awaited him, should he survive the initial scramble to get to safety in Lagos. There was some sort of weird infection going around that was turning ordinary people into bloodthirsty lunatics, but it wasn’t long before Steve found himself a group whose leader was able to spot the infected before they attacked anyone. Noting that most of the group had improvised weapons, with the exception of some former gardeners wielding dull machetes, he found a long, sturdy metal pipe and carried it along. The pipe almost immediately proved useful, as Steve was able to use it against a woman that the group’s leader pointed out as infected. A few more short fights had gotten him to level 2, where he had earned his second Special Ability.
Since Steve’s group already numbered several hundred in size, his Attributes had immediately jumped up, making the first full day of walking eastward just barely manageable. Along with the others, he made it all the way to Seme Kpodji before it was too hot to go any further, so the entire group stopped for a long nap on the beach. While they were there, Steve had managed to speak for a while with Ndiogou, the group’s leader, but the conversation didn’t go anywhere. Steve got the distinct impression that Ndiogou didn’t like him for some reason, so he excused himself fairly quickly and went off to see if he could find some food and water.
After spending a long time being so nauseated that it was a chore to force food down and keep it down, the meal of day-old “pate blanche” and bottled water was incredibly satisfying. Steve couldn’t help but notice how his body seemed to respond positively to that small amount of nourishment. His muscles felt firmer and his ribs weren’t sticking out the way that they had been. He found a mirror and checked his appearance, finding that his feelings were correct. If things kept up, in less than a week no one would be able to guess that he had ever been sick in the first place.
A deep fatigue forestalled his plans to chat up some of the more eligible-looking ladies, so Steve found a nice shady spot under a paillote and made himself comfortable. Clenching the metal pipe like it was a security blanket, he fell into a dreamless sleep almost immediately.
A loud snap that sounded like a two by four breaking jolted the man awake, his heart racing as adrenaline coursed through his veins. It took Steve a moment to remember where he was, but recalling the events of the past two days didn’t help calm him down. If anything, his stress level rose as he sprang to his feet and cast around for the source of the noise. Another snap cracked from the right, followed by a yelp of anguish. Not far away, an enormous crab had caught a stray dog with its powerful claw and was in the process of bringing its other claw to bear. There was a wet clack, followed by a thump as the dog’s head landed upon the blood-soaked sand.
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Dimly remembering that there was a specific word for everything eventually evolving into crabs, Steve charged ahead, slamming his metal pipe over the overgrown crustacean’s carapace. With his enhanced attributes, he thought for sure that he’d be able to easily defeat the crab. But, to his dismay, the blow was turned by the beast’s hard shell, leaving him off-balance.
Thankfully, one of the crab’s claws was still intertwined with the corpse of the dog, or Steve’s journey would have ended right there. As it was, he suffered a deep cut just below his knee as he leapt back out of range of the crab’s powerful pincers. It was then that he remembered that he was not alone, so he started yelling for help as he backed away from the crab, trying to keep one eye on the crustacean at all times but mindful of his surroundings.
It wasn’t until the crustacean returned to its late dinner that Steve realized that no one had come to his aid. Looking around, he immediately understood why: the entire group had already moved out, and no one had bothered to wake him up.
It was with a heavy heart that Steve continued west towards the former border with Nigeria. Without the attribute boost from his Special Ability, Mob Rule, the going was much harder. But not having to keep up with the others meant that he had more time to rest and forage. In fact, he found a large cache of canned goods on a ship that was docked outside the storage facility for the Niger-Benin pipeline, although he had to contend with a couple of crabs in the process. Thankfully, he had reached level 3 after killing a few lizards and a very angry but diminutive goat, which had also awarded him the Club skill. This time, it was the crabs who were forced to retreat after one lost a leg and the other a claw. Steve feasted well that night.
When he finally arrived in Lagos three days later, Steve was shocked to find enormous wooden walls that seemed to stretch on forever, with a well-defended gate further secured by a portcullis along the beach road. Upon reaching the gate, two guards hailed him, while several others looked on from various positions on the wall.
“Name,” one of the men said in a bored tone in English.
“Ambassador Steve Adesina,” Steve replied immediately, suddenly wishing that he had remembered to grab his business cards.
The other guards laughed, but the one who was questioning Steve merely entered something into a notebook, before showing it to the other man on the ground.
“Coming from?” the bored guard asked.
“Cotonou,” Steve answered.
The guard nodded and wrote something else in his tablet.
“And your level?”
“Three,” the former Ambassador replied after a moment, realizing that there was no reason to lie. After all, these men were armed with spears, machetes, and other wicked-looking weapons. Steve had no illusions he could fight them.
“Ok well, you’re not banned. So you can go on in,” the other guard on the ground said, this time in French.
“Wait!” one of the guards on the wall yelled in French as Steve started to enter.
“Yes,” Steve answered in English.
“Have you…did you see the enormous lizard chicken thing that was terrorizing Cotonou?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Steve responded, quickening his pace to avoid being hassled any further.
Thus, Steve entered the Settlement of Lagos, where he quickly found that his former leader had already fallen under the thumb of the criminals who ran the place. He himself fared no better, as they also controlled the food supplies. Anyone who complained was simply starved until they had a change of heart, that is, if they didn’t disappear first. After finding out that humans could earn “experience points” by simply doing the things that normal humans did, Steve set out to use his two specials to their fullest, designing an exercise regimen that would take advantage of his extra stamina and working on large teams that were engaged in manual labor. It didn’t take long until he had reached level 10, but the only classes that he had been offered were “Clubber” and “Being of Burden”. Having had his fill of combat, the former Ambassador chose instead to be a human pack mule.
It wasn’t such a bad job, if one could stand the crowds and the drudgery. Mostly, Steve just delivered large amounts of goods, usually food, all over the city. He was given a large push cart and comfortable shoes before being put to work. The walking wasn’t a problem, but Lagos was enormous and jam-packed with people, and internal combustion didn’t work anymore. So not only were the roads jammed by nonworking vehicles, but there were people walking everywhere. It was even worse than Paris had been. Steve’s level ticked up a few times as he continued to earn experience for each successful delivery, but he was otherwise unfulfilled. He had only unlocked one new skill, Whistling, so far, and there was a whole world out there to experience. The only thing that was keeping him from returning to Cotonou was the continued reports of the enormous bird monster that was impossible to kill and loved to hunt people. Apparently, it had claimed the entirety of Benin as its territory, and the people who still lived there had essentially turned nocturnal, since the beast never, ever, hunted at night.
Then, one day, Steve was ordered to report to a warehouse on the western edge of the city. When he arrived, he was informed that communication with the city of Lomé had been restored, and the leaders had reached a trade agreement. A shipment of parboiled rice, clothing, and luxury items would depart from Lagos immediately. Upon reaching Lomé, the caravan would load up crates of fresh fruits and vegetables, which would help vary the monotonous diet that the majority of people of Lagos were forced to subsist on. Farmer classes in the city were also eager to get their hands on the fruits and vegetables for a totally separate reason: they could grow their own once they had access to the seeds.
It took the caravan less than two hours to set out, their loading speed increased by a buff from a woman with the Taskmaster class and then further enhanced by the laborers’ inflated attributes. A few hours later Steve Adesina found himself sweating in the sun, wondering why they were travelling by day and wondering if he should have just stayed in Lagos. A shout brought him out of his reverie.
“In the air! Up there!” a woman near the front of the convey cried out.
“Can anyone identify it?” shouted Adje, a member of the crime syndicate’s outer circle and the leader of the caravan. “Is it The Winged Death?”
“It’s much higher level than I am!” called out one of the caravan’s guards, “My skill asks what I’d like my tombstone to say! Let’s just hope it doesn’t come this way…”
“It’s coming this way!” the woman who had spotted the creature screamed. “Does anyone have a positive ID? Is it the Demon of Dahomy?”
“I got its name….it’s Charlemagne! Question marks for levels!” yelled the man just in front of Steve.
“Run!!!!” a dozen voices shouted. Steve ducked underneath the handlebar of the cart he had been hauling and took off at top speed back toward Lagos, praying that, since he couldn’t outrun the enormous winged menace, he could at least outrun most of his fellow humans.
