“I’m seriously getting a spaceship?!” I asked with a mix of excitement and complete astonishment. “I don’t know how to fly a spaceship. I’ve never flown more than a few hours in a regular damn airplane! You people give out spaceships to everyone who decides they don’t want to sit back and watch their planet die?!”

  “You people?” Tiff asked with an indignant tone, turning her head from whatever she was poking at in the air and staring daggers in my direction. “I am not the entity that created this dungeon, I am not the aliens that seeded your home world, and I am damn sure not the one who gave a naked, ignorant human man-child a piece of advanced alien technology. I told you, Andrew. I didn’t have a choice in this. You at least get the ability to choose to join the crawl or go back to your world. It's not much of a choice now that you know what is going to happen otherwise, but it is a choice nonetheless.”

  “I was not afforded such a choice,” Tiff said, holding her hands together and staring down at the floor. That said, I will help you; I will give you knowledge, information, and assistance whenever and however I can. At some point I may even be able to physically help you with this enormous, impossible task that you are taking on. Understand this though, Andrew Dawes, if you ever again insinuate that I am somehow a part of all this aside from being assigned as your guardian, I will quit and let the fates have you,” she said as she crossed her arms in defiance.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” I said, holding my hands out in front of me as I tried to defuse the tension, only to realize I had exposed myself to her by accident. I quickly moved my hands back down to cover my unmentionables. “I’m sorry. This is all coming at me so fast; I didn’t mean to offend you. Hell, I didn’t know AI’s could even get offended. Hell, I didn’t know A.I.s like you were even real until a few minutes ago. Cut me some slack while I try to take this all in."

  I moved to the other side of the table, seeking some cover. “Look, I’m no warrior; I was just an average athlete in school,” I said with a shrug. “The past three years have been a literal hell on earth. Had I faced this choice right after the drop, I would’ve bolted without a second thought. But now, things have changed. The world has changed. I’ve witnessed starvation and murders over the meager belongings of others. The people of my world are just surviving, and honestly, I don’t think anyone left down there cares about me. I’m not even sure if my family is alive, and my only real friend, well…he’ll manage without me. I’m clueless about what I’m stepping into. Sure, there might be monsters, aliens, and murder-happy bad guys out there, and I might not last a week, but returning to the void that was my life? That’s not an option. If I’m going out, I’m going out fighting, I am gonna go down trying to make those that are responsible pay, even if it’s just a bit. So, let’s choose a class and kick this off!” I declared, locking eyes with her, filled with resolve.

  I look at her to see her reaction. The slightest smile creeps onto her lips before she nods in agreement. “Okay, I will place my palm on your forehead, and then you will receive the Codex of Classes. It won't tell you everything you need to know. The program will sort classes based on your physiology, filtering out classes that aren’t compatible,” Tiff said as she reached over the table and held her palm near my forehead.

  “Wait, you can touch me?” I asked, “I thought you were like a super advanced hologram of something?”

  “I am real, and I am really here. I was transported into the room with you after you woke up," she said.

  “But your clothes changed; how does that work?” I asked curiously and more than a little envious that she had access to multiple wardrobes while I still remained completely naked.

  “Too much to get into right now. It’s easier to just think of it as magic, like I said earlier. We really need to get this done,” she said hurriedly. “Read me the options, and I can cover the pros and cons before you make a final decision.”

  “Okay,” I said nodding in confirmation as she gently pressed her palm against the center of my forehead. Her hand was soft and surprisingly warm against my skin as a wave of information entered my head and appeared on my interface.

  Class Selection the interface read.

  Option 1 – Space Ninja - System Class

  The Space Ninja class employs shadows and secrecy for unparalleled stealth. Wielding mainly one-handed light weapons and mastering the art of deception, Space Ninjas collaborate with clan members to secure total victory or risk utter destruction if the clan leader’s decisions are reckless. You will join a garrison of fellow Space Ninjas for immediate training. Your gear, including weapons and armor, will be issued to you and become upgradable from Level 5 onwards.

  Option 2 - Galactic Brawler – System Class

  The Galactic Brawler is a class centered around melee combat. With your formidable strength, you capitalize on close-quarters battles. While others may favor gleaming blades and heavy artillery, your preference is the direct confrontation, engaging foes in hand-to-hand combat. As a solitary warrior who takes the path less trodden, you become the weapon. Armor will be granted after you finish the tutorial level and can be upgraded at Level 5. Additionally, you will receive a compact, personal attack ship that is fully operational.

  Option 3 - Interstellar Assassin – System Class

  The Interstellar Assassin isn’t popular at parties; they tend to kill at least one person every time they go to one. To be fair, it's part of the job. You will use poison, long-range weapons, and every other deceptive killing ability you can imagine to slowly and steadily creep your way through the dungeon, working your way up the leaderboard one dead body at a time! Hooray! Seriously though, you work alone, and you kill alone, but you're damn good at it. You can kill with a touch or from miles away by using small, one-handed weapons, small light firearms, and large, long-range weapons. Armor will be provided upon completion of the tutorial level, and a small, light, stealth ship in good working order will be provided.

  Option 4 – Havok Bringer – Class provided by an anonymous benefactor.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  Description - N/A

  Warning: This class will invoke the Rule of Duplicity. Warning: This is an unregistered class. Warning System AI designated R.A.N.D.I. has allowed the inclusion of this class but cautions the participant of the possibility of unexpected results if chosen.

  I read the descriptions off to Tiff as they populated on my interface.

  “Why are the descriptions in such a snarky tone? And is the AI named Randi?” I asked.

  “The system Master AI probably assigned a sub-mind to populate the class descriptions. They can get a little too into their work,” Tiff said nervously. “Technically, the System master AI is not named Randi. That is an acronym for Remote Artificial Neural Dependant Intelligence. The creators built the system but do not operate physically in this dimension, so they created a bio-artificial intelligence to oversee system mechanics. It is always observing, or having a sub-mind observe participants, and I do not think it will react positively to being called Randi,” Tiff said.

  “So, if I hear you right, this AI has a brain? Randi has a brain?” I asked.

  “That is correct. The master system AI is a mix of technology and wetware. I warn you again against using the moniker Randi when referring to the master AI, though.” Tiff warned.

  “Nah, I’m gonna call it Randi. What’s the worst that could happen?” I asked with a shrug.

  “That is your decision, then. Let’s get back to the class selection. The last class really stands out. A council-provided class?” she muttered. I’ve seen items, weapons, and armor provided to participants early but not a class, “ she said, looking conflicted.

  “I like the Space Ninja!” I shouted. “I can be a damn ninja! HO-LY SHI..”,

  Tiff cut me off with a wave, “You are too big to be an effective Space Ninja,” she said. Instantly deflating the inner 9-year-old me, who was on the verge of becoming the next great space ninja. “The stat increases are okay, but, honestly, it’s not a great class unless you want to die on the front lines after a clan leader takes a payoff to ship his entire team of ninjas to a world that will kill them immediately."

  “Ookay, no Space Ninja then,” I sighed. “How about Space Brawler? Like you said, I’m big, and I’ve won my fair share of fights. Plus, look at my hands; they are huge! I’m basically a more handsome Wreck it Ralph,” I shrugged. I had always had large hands. I got that from my dad; it is kind of a point of pride. “So, is there like a space fight club?” I asked with a grin and a raised eyebrow. I mean, I know if there was, you wouldn’t be able to talk about it because of the first two rules of Space Fight Club, but if there is a Space Fight Club, I might be interested in joining.”

  “That class is a real problem in tight spaces," Tiff replied, completely ignoring my awesome reference. “If it were not for the fourth option, I would say that is the class we should go for, but a provided class should not be something that we do not seriously consider.”

  “It doesn’t even say what it is. There are no details at all!” I said. “Plus there are like… multiple warnings in the description. I know I have to kind of trust you and all, but what even is that class? What if it's something that doesn’t fit me? Will I have an option to choose another class at some point?” I asked.

  “No,” she said, “you are stuck with your class once you pick one, for life, even if you survive the dungeon, but the title gives me a hint,” she said as she leaned forward on the table in thought.

  “Havokium is the first and only planet that staged a rebellion against the Universal Council. Their war fleet was the most technologically advanced fleet in the universe. Their Havok Hounds were a team of orbital drop super soldiers trained to infiltrate and eliminate targets in enemy space. They were defeated by the council, who, at the time, had a prestigious battle fleet of their own and armies across the Galaxy ready to defend them. Since then, the Council has fallen out of favor with many of the strongest members. The Council is more fractured now than ever in its history. If this class is in any way related to Havokium, or the Havok Hounds, you must choose it,” she insisted.

  “What about the Rule of Duplicity?” I asked, “Doesn’t that mean I’ll get a curse or whatever, too? Also, I hate to keep pointing it out…but the warnings, shouldn’t I be worried about those?

  “The curses get progressively worse as you get farther into the dungeon,” she said. “At this point, it likely will not be something we cannot overcome, and the class could far outweigh the curse. As for the warnings, I would not be concerned. The Master AI takes pride in selecting a set of curated classes for new species. With that being said, it is always possible for a benefactor to supply the materials for a custom class. I am more concerned with the anonymous nature of the benefactor. It could be a number of interested parties, though most likely it is someone who has a vested interest in seeing the Lacertine claim fail. "

  “LIKELY?! Likely?!” my frustration was apparent as I considered why I would take a class that gives me no details. “Deep breaths, Deep breaths,” I whispered to myself.

  I sighed, unsure of what to do next. “Once again," I let out a long, slow breath and spoke through gritted teeth, "I guess I have to trust you.”

  “Andrew, the classes you have to choose from are merely starting points. Should you opt for any of the other three, you will have the opportunity to evolve them gradually and personalize them. This applies to the Havok Bringer class as well. The advantages might significantly surpass any potential drawbacks. As mentioned before, once a class is selected, the selection is final, but the class is still yours to shape. Pair this with the enigma of your ‘P’ level designation, and I believe your potential power and skills could greatly exceed any negative impacts of choosing a basic class. Remember, I am on your side, Andrew. Your trust in me is essential.”

  “I need you to understand something, Tiff. Where I come from, trust is earned, not freely given. I trust you know more about all of this than I do. I trust that you probably have some sort of agenda here. Maybe what you told me is true; maybe your fate is linked with mine. If that is the case, then I am sorry. I am truly sorry. I have nothing to base my decision on other than a brief description and your words, and that is not ideal. So, here is what I will do: I am gonna trust your words. I am gonna trust your knowledge on the subject but understand this: if you give me a reason not to trust you, I will drop you like a bad habit or die trying. Understand?” I asked. I may have been brought into this with no preparation or knowledge of just how big a mess I was in but I’d be damned if I was going to let some AI I just met dictate my trust.

  Tiff looked at me and sighed deeply, “That is fair, Andrew. That is all I can ask for now.”

  I looked over the available classes one last time. Tiff seemed so sure about the Havok Bringer class, but something seemed off. Why would a class be provided to me? Who even provided the class? What are the ominous warnings about? So many questions with no answers, and I didn’t see any way of getting those answers before I made my selection, though. This whole situation was outrageous to begin with, and now I have to make a decision in minutes that could mean the difference between life and death. I was being asked to make an impossible decision without the relevant facts and data. The alternative was even more jarring, though. Refuse and go back home to wait for the end of the world. My eyes moved up and down as I inspected the classes for a few seconds longer.

  “Andrew, our time is limited. It is imperative that you select a class so we can proceed.” Tiff said gently.

  I took a deep breath, focused on the Havok Bringer class and mentally selected it. A prompt popped into my vision.

  Class selection complete. Updated stats are now available for review.

  I mentally focused on my stats and watched as the prompt disappeared, replaced by my personal stat sheet.

  Name – Andrew Timothy Dawes

  Race – Human

  Level – P-1

  Class – Havok Bringer

  Stats –

  Strength - P1- 80%

  Intelligence - P1- 73%

  Dexterity- P1- 91%

  Defense -P1 -76%

  Everything was the same except for one glaring difference. Before, there was nothing beside the word class. Now, I was a Havok Bringer, for better or worse.