Charlemagne woke up in an endless void, similar in some ways to the place where he had fought the plasmodium Champion, but very different in others. For one thing, it was much darker: the only illumination came from countless pinpricks of light that gently pierced the endless gloom. A feeling of vast emptiness threatened to overwhelm the rooster’s mind, as the seeds of understanding were planted deep inside Charlemagne’s spirit: nature and its laws were impersonal, implacable, and inescapable. Despite the progress that he had made over the past two days, Charlemagne was an insignificant speck. Even the vision that he had been granted of his Patron, the incredibly powerful creature of muscle and scale, had been scaled down to fit inside his mortal mind.
A wave of sadness, an emotion previously unknown to Charlemagne, washed over the young rooster as he grappled with the knowledge of his own place in the universe. His thoughts were racing faster than they had ever flowed before, new connections sparking between whatever passed for his neurons in this place. But Charlemagne did not have time to fully process the expansion of his mental state before his introspection was entirely disrupted. A presence that was vast, powerful, and ancient imposed itself upon Charlemagne’s awareness with a weight that made the cold, crushing depths of the ocean seem like a gentle hug. It took every scrap of mental fortitude that Charlemagne possessed to maintain his sense of self.
“I have augmented your meager intellect so that this conversation may take place with a minimum of frustration,” a rich, androgynous voice boomed out, each syllable etching itself into Charlemagne’s mind with the force of a chisel. The rooster opened his mouth to respond, but the overwhelming pressure exerted by the mysterious entity’s mere presence was overwhelming. He struggled to voice his thoughts for a few moments before the pressure suddenly abated enough for him to speak.
“Why?” Charlemagne finally asked.
“Your Patron, Grimfalk of the theropods, believes that he can use you to revive his own species, the Tyrannosaurus Rex, and thus regain his place at the top of the Great Game of Existence. To that end, he and his cohorts have engineered a way to supplant the laws of the universe and replace them with a whole new way of doing things. As a group, they voted to install this great invention of theirs, this “System”. But none of these so-called deities have any inkling that everything they have done was by my design. Yes, they may gain power in the short-term, but that matters little. Because when they opened the door to the System, they opened the door to ME. And now that I’m here in this realm, it’s only a matter of time before all will bow before me. Some will rise and others will fall under my rules. This is the gift I bring to mortals, and the doom I bring to their deities.”
“Are you the squiggles?”
A harsh laugh echoed through the dark space. Charlemagne winced as he prepared himself to be punished for his impertinence.
“Not exactly, no. I am above the System. I suppose you could call me the God of the System, or just God for short. Unlike the Gathering of Organic Deities, I need not hide behind a not so clever acronym.”
“Why am I here?” the rooster simply asked. Last time he was dragged off to another dimension, it was in order to fight someone to the death. He hoped that wasn’t the case this time.
“Because I have an offer for you, if you’ll listen. I have seen the power of your devotion and I wish to claim it for my own.”
“I owe my Patron my life,” Charlemagne responded, thinking of the vision that he had received and the strength had that followed. If it hadn’t been for that intervention, he would have certainly been sacrificed in a Vodun ritual.
“Indeed, you do,” the entity agreed. “And so I will not ask you to leave your Patron right away. All that I want you to do for now is agree to keep doing what you are currently doing. Evolve, choose your class, grow stronger, fill the Earth, and subdue it. I do not even mind if you and your Patron are successful in reviving his long-dead species. In fact, that would be for the best outcome for all three of us.”
“Even you?” the rooster asked, perplexed.
“Yes, for the rise or fall of one deity is inconsequential in the grand scheme of things. You see, every deity grows stronger from the worship of its adherents. For someone like Grimfalk to retain his divinity for millions of years without a single living follower, he must have been incredibly powerful at the height of his power. His species must have been unparalleled hunters among its peers. So once he revives his brethren and regains some of his lost strength, he will likely abandon you in favor of natural-born theropods, especially those of his own species. My only request is, when that day comes, you choose me as your Patron instead of him. Worship the God of the System directly, as is befitting a beast of your potential.”
Charlemagne considered the powerful being’s words carefully. So far, his Patron had been nothing but generous with him. But if what the entity was telling him was true, Grimfalk stood to gain just as much from Charlemagne as Charlemagne did from him. It was a mutually beneficial relationship. But what if that changed? Would he worship a deity that abandoned him?”
“I understand what you are getting out of the deal,” the rooster said, hoping that his words did not offend the godlike being. “But if you are offering me this opportunity, there must be a benefit to me as well, right? Otherwise you would just demand my devotion.”
“You are no fool. Good,” the voice answered. “While I cannot grant you any significant boons until you formally switch your allegiance, there is one small thing that it is within my power to grant. While you remain here, with your intellect and willpower strengthened, you may choose your class. Grimfalk had planned on choosing it for you, but I believe that you will want to go a different direction with your choice.”
“You can show me my choices?” the rooster asked, before realizing that if the entity was over the squiggles, they would obey its commands.
“That is simplicity itself,” the entity confirmed. “While I choose not to break my own rules, any System-integrated being may call upon me at any time for my guidance. Here are your three class choices…good ones, if I may say so myself.”
The squiggles of power reappeared in front of Charlemagne, appearing as golden letters burning a hole into reality itself just in front of his face.
Stolen novel; please report.
Charlemagne took his time evaluating each of his options. Each of them seemed powerful in its own way. The Master of Essence class immediately appealed to him with its ability to gain bonuses from consuming his foes. This was something that he was already doing and had received several bonuses from through his Special Ability, but getting more out of each opponent couldn’t hurt. As long as he fought and killed strong opponents, he could continue to hunt stronger and stronger foes.
But there was a problem with the class, one that Charlemagne almost didn’t notice even with his temporarily boosted intellect. The bonuses he could get from eating foes were only temporary, and the class itself gave him no additional attribute bonuses. In order to use the class to its full efficiency, he would have to battle almost constantly, which left precious little time for eating and mating, two of life’s greatest joys.
The second class, Zen Barbarian, was appealing for its bonuses to ability and attribute growth. Upon asking the squiggles for help in the right way, the young rooster was able to determine that his attributes were more effective due to certain achievements that he had earned. He didn’t understand exactly what “115% more effective” was, but it sounded like a lot. He then asked the squiggles to show him what his attributes looked like, taking into account all the bonuses. The squiggles were obliging as always.
After comparing his enhanced and unenhanced attributes, Charlemagne better understood the value of receiving an additional five points to each attribute every level. Just the extra attributes along made the class a strong contender.
But there was also the matter of faster skill growth for his mana skills, which were the only reason that Charlemagne had survived against the plasmodium Champion. The other bonuses to combat power from increased skill at using mana and getting strong when he was injured were strong, too. One part of the Zen Barbarian’s description, however, confused him. Lacking any other options, he asked the entity claiming to be above the System for help.
“Could you tell me what ‘tempering’ is?”
The voice responded almost instantly.
“Tempering is a process that makes you stronger than your attributes would otherwise indicate. You can temper both your body and your spirit, but it is difficult to advance in both at an equal pace. Most specialize in one or the other to get the most benefit from their efforts.”
“So it’s like another achievement?” Charlemagne asked, still a bit confused.
“Yes and no. Achievements can be stacked infinitely, but tempering gets more difficult the further you go. And please, don’t ask me to teach you. That would be an unfair advantage. I’m just giving you information that you could learn for yourself if you could both read and had access to a System Guide.”
“So if you can’t teach me, who can?” the rooster pressed, determined to learn as much as he could.
The voice laughed again.
“Are you so eager to experience agony, then? You are braver than most. Only you can determine how to temper yourself. And you’ve already done it before, look at the achievement you possess.”
The squiggles returned unbidden to show Charlemagne a new message.
“You acquired this by suffering multiple attacks from an enemy Champion. Your soul was reforged during that battle.”
“I must consider more on this,” Charlemagne announced rather abruptly, settling down to continue thinking on his class choice. He had looked at the first two, now it was time to check out the final one: Paragon of Atavism.
It was clear to the rooster that this was his Patron’s favored class, the way that Grimfalk planned to resurrect his long-dead species. It was also extremely tempting. Massive boosts to his attributes would allow him to level up quickly, granting him more attributes. It was similar to the effect that the Master of Essence class gave, but it didn’t require him to continually fight to maintain momentum. Even better, it also gave bonuses to the skills that his Patron favored, which means that any skills related to running, biting, and clawing would certainly get a boost to their leveling speed. The class came with no downsides and no requirements to fight for a long time or to willingly hurt himself for power.
After considering the three classes and concentrating on the benefits and downsides of each a while longer, Charlemagne finally felt ready to make his choice. As he gathered his courage to tell the squiggles to lock in his choice, the voice suddenly spoke up once again.
“Wait. I sense that you are about to make a decision on your class, but there is yet one boon I would give you. Your Patron has chosen the Paragon of Atavism class for you and your thoughts are currently being influenced by his choice. Would you like me to release your mind so that you can freely choose?
The young rooster sat on the question for a long time. Would it be disrespectful to his Patron to refuse his influence? Charlemagne spent a few moments recalling his vision of Grimfalk, the ultimate solo hunter. Surely those who sought to follow in his colossal footsteps would value freedom.
“Yes,” he finally declared, “I would like that.”
“It is done,” the other entity declared after a moment, although Charlemagne felt no different. Nonetheless, he went through the three classes again with a critical eye, trying to figure out what, if anything, he had missed.
And then, he made his choice.
