We take our leave around two hours after dawn. Just before 9:00 AM according to Chloe’s phone and the single analog wall clock in the house still ticking away on battery power, completely oblivious as to how much the world has changed in just over a week.
Hard to believe sotis. It’s been a week already. Had the [System] not arrived when it did, we’d be enjoying the last two days of Spring Break, going up to see my favorite music group in concert, then coming back to finish senior year and the last sumr before going out into the world. My thoughts turn back to school. Will we still have classes on Monday? Will anyone show up? I really, really don’t want to get into any school fights now that confrontations can so much more easily turn deadly.
We pause for a couple of minutes to examine the scene of our last battle. There are still plenty of splintered trees and a few half-dissolved shrubs lying around, but most of the signs of the battlefield are completely gone. There isn’t a single patch of burned grass, nor any of the huge swaths of dirt that the Crawler had left behind as it consud all organic matter in its path during the previous night. A true miracle of the System, restoring the grasses so quickly.
At least, I would believe it to be so, if not for that lingering thought that I can’t quench, that the System is orchestrating all of these events for a greater purpose. And not one I or anyone on Earth should hope to see co to fruition.
We proceed down south, following much the sa path we did yesterday. With a couple more levels under our belts, the trip proceeds more quickly. After about twenty more minutes on the road, I get an idea. We head to the side of the road, where I pull out my trusty sewing needle and get to work, this ti on each of our shoes.
[Basic Glyph Manipulation] speeds up the crafting and validation testing of new glyphs way beyond what I was capable of with rely [Basic Ether Manipulation] and my mundane, diocre attempts at seamstressing could accomplish. Scarcely five minutes passes before our boots have been swiftly modified, and the two of us continue on our way.
These [Boots of Quickness], as the System has registered them, have a passive effect to increase our speed by about a third. Not anything world-shattering, but a useful benefit with applications both in and out of battle. There is a small [Ether] drain, but after factoring in our regeneration, it’s about a point per minute for Chloe and about a point every two minutes for . That her class gives her boosts to her maximum [Ether] capacity relative to the ‘normal’ formula ans that both of us can use them for several hours each day. At least as long as we don’t use [Ether] otherwise during that ti.
We make it back downtown shortly before noon, even after we make a short stop for lunch. We stroll in the general direction of the new Tower, wondering if anyone has been sufficiently brave and/or foolish enough to attempt the trials that lie within. But, of course, it’s still under constant police surveillance, and after yesterday, we dare not cause any trouble so soon. Instead, we slip over a couple of streets, enjoying the warm sun at our backs as we head up main street and into the office complex where Mrs. Jacobs works.
There’s a security presence at the gate, with two bulky gentlen standing sentry on either side of the reinforced glass door. Each of them carries a shotgun, prominently held over their chest, and both give a general vibe of surliness that makes even my System-boosted confidence falter slightly.
Chloe has already let her mother know of our impending arrival, so we don’t have to wait more than a minute before she taps on the front door and beckons us inside. As soon as we’re inside and the doors are locked behind us, Mrs. Jacobs pulls her daughter into a hug. A second later, she beckons toward , and the three of us share in a cathartic embrace.
Mrs. Jacobs moves at a pace that’s hurried for her, but with our [Boots of Quickness] speeding our gait, it’s but a leisurely stroll for the two of us as she leads us out of the entryway and toward a breakroom of so sort in the back.
Mrs. Jacobs’s workplace isn’t in one of the large towers that dot the downtown tro. It’s still a building of so size, stretching five stories high and taking up a quarter of a city block along the northeast side of the downtown area.
It’s a bit disorienting to see the electrical lights on, fans humming, and people going about an ordinary Friday at work. Phones are ringing, probably calling other devices within the complex. As we pass into the back, the air fills with the sll of a warm, sizzling al being cooked up on so hot plates, a luxury of which I wish I could partake.
“Oh, it is so good to see the two of you doing well. I still can’t believe you walked all the way across town.”
“We jogged,” Chloe corrects. I suspect she also wants to brag a bit.
“I see.” Mrs. Jacobs sits us down without missing a beat. “How are things back at the house? So sorry that I’ve not been able to drive back, but with the country still struggling to get the power up and back online, it’s just been one thing after another, and we’re basically pulling constant all-nighters, taking sleep where we can get it.”
“Any word on that?” Chloe asks.
“It’s pretty much a mass-scale effort. Now that the civil unrest has started to dial back a bit, the Army Corps of Engineers has taken command of more or less every National Guard unit, save for small detachnts needed elsewhere.”
In other words, guarding dungeons and handling the logistics of getting dungeon loot processed.
“They’re working as hard as they can to build all the infrastructure to start reconnecting the powerlines, but they're saying that we’re still looking at another half a month before all the connections are stable enough that the utility conglorates are going to feel comfortable trying to turn the plants back online.”
“Assuming no more System hijinks happen in the interim. Just glad it didn’t disrupt the water treatnt facility and operation.”
“And thank heavens for the solar installations the CEO had installed two years ago. Otherwise the backup generators wouldn’t have lasted even this long.”
After a ager but still enjoyable al of street tacos, Mrs. Jacobs beckons us into her office and closes the door behind her. She sits down on her desk and stares at us with a stern look on her face.
“Now then, Chloe, Seraphina,” she starts. “Would you like
to get you two so water?”
She absolutely knows what happened yesterday. Chloe turns to
and the two of us suppress a look of guilt, but our resolve fades under the unrelenting nature of her mother’s withering glare.
“Alright, Mrs. Jacobs, what is this about?”
"I've been inford that the two of you were seen…" She pauses. "Harassing officers, breaking curfew, causing a public disturbance, breaking and entering into restricted areas without permission or so much as a by-your-leave. Now, I'd like to believe that my daughter has had a good influence on you, and that I've tried to instill a sense of respect for public order into you, Seraphina. But Officer Whitney's testimony is… rather persuasive, as is his detailed account about how you brazenly defied the arrest order he placed on you. Do you have anything to say for yourself?"
Chloe raises her voice to object. "Please, Mom! I…"
"I don't think we can trust the old public order," I say. "Regardless of my personal safety, I wanted to go and see what was going on with that Tower. Is no one going to explore it? I get that it's a less-than-safe extracurricular to engage in over Spring Break, but is there such a thing as safe anymore? Monsters killed my mother, they attacked us in our own backyard and our basent. If there were such a way to return to a sense of safety, wouldn't it be there, in that tower? And if no one else is going to go inside because it's 'not safe', then it ought to be like the dungeons. Available for exploration for those willing to assu the risks."
She raises an eyebrow. “Less-than-safe extracurriculars? Now that’s a euphemism if ever I’ve heard one. Football and basketball would be my definition of ‘less-than-safe extracurriculars’. There’s risks involved, but ones you know about going in. And we have professionals and safety equipnt that at least try to mitigate those risks. Sneaking into unsafe buildings despite unknown dangers, despite clear barricades and ard police standing guard is not ‘less-than-safe’. It is reckless, foolish, illegal, and was as likely as not to have gotten the both of you killed! Seriously, you two, what do you have to say about yourselves?”
“I’m the one to bla for this,” I say. “Please be lenient on Chloe. I wanted to go to the tower because I thought we could discover more technology and learn more about the System and what it wants by being here.” I pause for a mont. “I just… I think there’s too much potential and I don’t want to see it all get classified by the military and hidden away. We need to know how to use these new powers and abilities we’ve been given. And–”
“And?” Mrs. Jacobs says. “You look like you want to tell
more.”
“I do. You’ll think I’m crazy though. Won’t take it as seriously as I an it.”
“Try .”
I hesitate for a bit longer. I don’t know if I can fully trust Mrs. Jacobs but, at the sa ti, she took
in as her own daughter after we found out that mine passed away. Part of
worries she’ll send in her husband to drag
off to Area 51 or wherever they keep the real alien tech he’s been working on. I struggle with it, but I decide to just co clean without mincing words.
“I’m not from this world. Not from planet Earth. Maybe not even from this galaxy. I don’t know.”
“I an this with all due sincerity, since I know you’re trying to be honest, but please, explain it to . How can you not be from Earth? We’ve known you since you were five years old, and I think we would be aware if there were sightings of you falling from the sky in an alien spacecraft.”
“What I’m about to tell you is all true, but hard to believe. I expect you not to. Frankly, I’d think you foolish to take
solely at my word, although my word is the only proof I can show you. First, when the System arrived, it ntioned that there was ‘anomalous data’ present when it tried to initialize . It then rectified that by giving
a trait called [Touched by the Multiverse]. The description says that my mind has been touched by, and I quote, ‘the vastness that lies beyond space and ti’.
“And while we were in the Tower yesterday, I had a vision of waking up in so cross between a hospital operating room and a mad scientist’s technological emporium. I was, from what I could tell, nearly the sa age and appearance that I am now. In that vision, I was greeted by a man who introduced himself as Dr. Martin Chotono. He said that he and a team of researchers had created
as part of a program that they designated ‘Project Seraphina’. The vision ends pretty soon after that.”
“So, this vision, you think, is so sort of… Connection to a different you from a different world?”
“I think it’s a mory of a life I once lived. Through processes I could not hope to understand, soone— maybe my old self— managed to imprint so fragnt of myself into this world, and allowed
to be reborn. How, or why, I couldn’t even speculate. But–” I know this is all too unbelievable, and Mrs. Jacobs looks at
as though I’m wasting her ti. “I know. As I said. It’s all too unbelievable, too easy to dismiss as a hallucination or a lie. I have no proof that could reasonably satisfy you, and I’m sorry that I must sound like I’m wasting your ti. But the mory is too realistic, the vision too clear, and after the arrival of the System, I’m forced to accept, or at least not dismiss out of hand, what I would have dismissed as hogwash and pseudoscientific woo just a week ago.”
Mrs. Jacobs smirks.
“You took a class related to Healing Crystals, didn’t you? Just to spite ?”
“Maybe I did. But that’s not what’s relevant right now.”
“Then what is?” Chloe asks. “We fought a giant tentacle monster not even a mile away from our house last night! I know you want to just pretend that the world is as it was, but… Sera’s right on this. The world is going to get more and more dangerous. And what you see as just keeping us safe is likely to endanger us all in the weeks and years to co.”
“Is that it, then?” Mrs. Jacobs asks. “You two have both made up your mind on this?”
“I have,” Chloe says. “I believe Sera. I trust her judgent on matters relating to the System and how it will change our world going forward. And I want to help her find the rest of her mories.”
“That’s your final answer, then?”
“It is.”
I nod my head in agreent.
“I see. I had hoped that this day wouldn’t co for a while yet, but every mother has to accept that one day her daughters are going to grow older, beco adults, and leave the nest. I don't know too much, but, Chloe, your father called last night. When I ntioned that you two had gotten involved in these matters and were being accused of various cris in the wake of the arrival of this so-called System, he didn't seem the least bit surprised. Couldn't tell
why. Said it was classified. More restricted protocols even than TS/SCI, and that he wasn't really able to even say that he knew why he knew such a thing.
"We weren't able to talk for long before his phone gave out, but we talked for long enough, and the two of us reached an understanding. Even if I don't like it, I'm here to make you an offer that he thinks will be in everyone's best interests."
“Na it,” Chloe says.
“I, and my company, have so influence with City Hall. But not enough that we can just completely overlook all of your illegal actions from yesterday. My original idea was to use my influence and give you the option to co to your senses, and in return, the city was going to agree to remand you to my custody and have you placed under house arrest for the rest of the sumr. If you had abided by those terms, you would have escaped being formally charged and made to do jail ti. However, I can’t in good conscience agree to the terms of that deal, if I know you will not hold to it either. As such, he proposed another idea, one which I think will give you the opportunities for advancent and 'leveling', as you might call it. I spoke with the city governnt and they are agreeable to it as well.
“There is an expedition into the wilds starting tomorrow morning.” She hands
a card with an address written on it. It’s for a place on the far western edge of the tro area. “I can arrange it such that you two can join them. For the rest of today, you two may remain here, under my supervision. If there are any spare supplies not being used, and you believe you can make use of them, you may have them. We will also prepare a small amount of rations for you to take on that expedition.” She looks at us with the tearful face of a mother saying goodbye to her children, possibly for the last ti. “I wish you both the best, and I hope to see you back safe and sound when everything settles down so more.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Jacobs.”
“Thank you, Mom.” the two of us say in unison.
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