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KP - Episode 1
🕑 Added 2023-08-28 16:17:25 +0000 UTC- Words Count: 6120
Turns out, the Magnus Gate App grants you the extraordinary ability to explore infinite possibilities and interact with worlds that most people consider to be purely fictional. It allows one to play with forces that are far beyond our mortal comprehension, all through a simple series of button-pressing. Putting on the mask of indifference and professionalism, Annabella starts advertising all the benefits I’ll receive if I say ‘yes’, which include but aren’t limited to:
A) A never-ending adventure throughout the Omniverse, free from any time constraints or impending deadlines and the best part? There are no overbearing bosses putting pressure on me, no tasks or missions to complete. My sole responsibility is to visit and explore the various worlds and gather data, primarily focusing on the functionality and effectiveness of the App, with minimal personal information involved.
B) Access to a store where I supposedly have the opportunity to trade my acquired items in exchange for additional charges for their App, alongside the promise of receiving ten unused complimentary Kaleidoscopic Points to be used however I wish- aid to help kickstart my journey as she put it, although I remain uncertain what their exact meaning or purpose is.
And–
[And remember, anything you acquire during your exploration will remain yours. As we are currently in the beta-testing phase, our main objective is to gather relevant information and enhance our system. Your valuable feedback and experiences will greatly contribute to our ongoing efforts! We can’t guarantee you won’t be harmed on your journey, but it’s as safe as can be.]
If she had the capability, I'm quite certain our dear Ms. Annabella would have flashed me an exaggerated and fake grin, accompanied by an overly enthusiastic thumbs-up as a confidence booster. I hum despondently, index finger lazily stroking Nanna’s fluffed-up cheek as I voice my concerns, “That is… A very good deal actually.” I verbally admit.
[Then–!]
It's truly remarkable how much hope and desperation can be conveyed through a single word displayed on a screen. Unfortunately for Annabella, I remain skeptical, as it seems too good to be true. The contract is heavily one-sided, offering me only benefits without any noticeable drawbacks- a common tactic used by pyramid schemer and scam-centers. This isn’t a fairytale, there is no such thing as a free-meal in this world.
First, they trap you with a binding contract, which is where they have you hooked. Then, they’ll likely pressure you into buying courses that promise instant riches or success with women. And you, being the gambling addict that you are, might be curious / foolish enough to see if it actually works, ultimately investing all your hard-earned money into something that's essentially the equivalent of throwing it away.
[…]
‘I’ve seen that one too many time.’ During my teenage years, a co-worker of mine sadly fell victim to a pyramid scheme. Woman invested her entire lifesaving into what turned out to be a never-ending cycle of financial loss, and as I last heard, she is still struggling with the debts from that experience. ‘Ain’t gonna fall for it.’
[Mr. Campbell, I must insist that you halt your defamatory statements! Our company has always maintained a strong reputation and operated with integrity, professionalism. True, we do… Skirt the legal bounds once in a while but compared to our competitors, we might as well be saints!]
"So you admit it, you guys do break the laws." I assert, fixing my gaze upon her or my phone more like.
[Absolutely! Why should we alone be bound by rules when no one else adheres to them?]
“Rather than focusing on combating corruption, your Foundation are actively aligning yourself with it? Correct me if I’m wrong, but I believe it says more about you than your competitors…”
Admittedly, I may come across as harsh. However, her response to my statement will play a crucial role in shaping my decision. With the understanding that she likely possesses some form of telepathic ability, I divert my focus to seemingly trivial matters like recalling our recent meals, the color of Nanna’s droppings (a pertinent detail for all bird owners), and the possible appearance of Annabella.
Initially, my mind attempts to conjure faces I encountered while crossing the street earlier.
It weaves a mosaic of unfamiliar features, amalgamating into a peculiar blend that bears no resemblance to either human beings or animals—an abstract composition that eludes my comprehension as well.
As that original concept dissipates, I opt to incorporate elements of fantasy into my mental image of her, leading me to envision her as a slender, flat-chested elf-like figure.
[I’m not flat, and that’s not how my telepathy works either.]
Throwing her a skeptical look, I mumble. “That’s exactly what a flat-chested telepath would say.”
[…]
“…” A heavy silence blankets the space between us, one person rendered speechless, while the other seethes with unmistakable frustration.
[Why’re you like this, Mr. Campbell? Who hurts you?]
I can only contain my smile for a limited time before a delighted grin spreads across my face.
At first glance, Annabella appears as a sheltered child dabbling in the world of business. However, her spirited sassiness and evident sense of humor hint at a promising foundation for our potential professional alliance, should I choose to accept the deal. “Say I agree, what about my family?”
[Aren’t you an orphan?]
“My adopted family, Ms. Magnum.” I clarify, unhurt by Annabella’s lack of tact. Having faced numerous remarks about my orphaned status in the past, I have long learned not to let it get to me, lest the stress does me in. Moreover, I can tell that her words weren’t rooted in malice but rather stemmed from a place of curiosity mainly. “Mrs. Miller will struggle to provide for her children without my assistance.”
[Miller… Allison Miller?]
Anxiety sets in as three dots materialize on my screen, accompanied by an incessant and highly vexing sound that triggers a painful itch in my gums.
[What do you mean ‘adopted family’? They took care of you for less than three months and according to our data, Mrs. Miller treated you like shit.]
“It’s not as terrible as it sounds. I dare say those three months were the most remarkable days of my life,” I confide to her, a wistful and nostalgic expression settling upon my face. “Without them—without the presence of Mr. Miller—I would have undoubtedly ventured down a considerably darker path, landing me straight to prison or even death row by now.”
Sensing my shift in mood, Nanna, my faithful companion, moves closer, gently pecking at my ear and hair as if to offer solace and comfort in her own weird- birdy way… Unable to help it, I reach to scratch her head, careful not to hurt or spook her in the process. Curiously, the small lovebird leans forth to watch the screen, gentle chirps like a soothing symphony for my weary. “Hello there, sweetheart. Anything you wanna add to the conversation?”
In a fleeting moment, Nanna’s expression takes on an unexpectedly pensive quality, a surprisingly contemplative air for such a tiny bird. However, that introspection is short-lived as she then abruptly relieves herself onto the phone, landing afterwards and pecking at it with a tinge of jealousy. Instantly, Annabella’s message comes through- yet another line of dots. It seems even a sketchy businesswoman can be rendered speechless by the hormonal antics of the avian antichrist.
It seems she hasn't had the experience of owning a pet bird before, ‘Lucky her’. Unlike Annabella, I have lost count of the countless nights I have had to endure Nanna’s piercing, high-pitched screeches. The challenges she brings aside, I still cherish Nanna dearly, even though she can be quite a handful at times. In a way, she saved my life. I don’t remember the dark places my mind had brought me to after Caine’s unfortunate death, nor do I want to, but I vividly recall how I stumbled across Nanna.
At that particular time, she was an unsightly, featherless creature, emitting piercing cries of hunger. It’s indeed peculiar to come across a wild lovebird in such a location, considering their natural habitats are typically located in regions with warmer climates such as Africa or Arizona. Till this day, I am confident fate must have put Nanna in my path… Or perhaps I’m putting too much importance on what amounts to a complete coincidence, who knows?
The main idea is that I never anticipated being capable of loving a being who persistently attempts to rupture my eardrums, nor did I ever expect to have to endure the inconvenience of having my hands soiled by her indiscriminate defecation. Yet, surprisingly enough, with her presence, I’ve come to recognize that life can hold such a vibrant and mesmerizing array of colors that I had never before envisioned.
With an exasperated eye roll, I reach into my backpack and retrieve a roll of paper, using it to meticulously wipe off Nanna’s droppings from my phone.
[Cute bird. When can we put it on a stove?]
“She’s raised to be a menace and look pretty. Those skinny ”
I whistle softly, and Nanna obediently perches on my fingers. “But we seem to be veering off track, Ms. Magnum.”
I remark, redirecting the conversation back to the main subject.
[Additionally, we offer the Hyperbolic Chamber service, at a cost obviously.]
“The Hyper- What?” I repeat, unbothered to hide my confusion. Loath as I am to admit it, Annabella’s terminology has left me somewhat perplexed, and judging from her tone, it feels as though she expected me to know what the ‘Hyper-thingy’ is. Sadly, it just sounds like four garbled words squeezed together to me. On cue, I turn to Nanna, before realizing I’m asking a freaking bird to chip in. “English, please.”
[What do you mean? Wait, don’t tell me…]
“What the Hell’s a Hyperbolic Chamber?”
[Goodness gracious! How have you managed to go all this time without seeing Dragon Ball? It’s even being streamed on Cartoon Network! It exists within this universe, right? Give me a moment to check.]
“Can’t you just tell me what it is?”
A wry smile graces my face.
[No! We’re getting to the bottom of this!]
Nanna and I exchange peculiar glances before I lean against the harsh bark, prompting the bird to swiftly jump into the breast-pocket of my shirt in perfect synchronization.
[What’re you doing? Hey, wait–]
“We came to the park to clear our heads. Whatever shady offers you have will have to wait.” Arms cushioning my head, I sleepily close my eyes, feeling a wave of exhaustion wash over me as I throw my phone in my bag. It’s just a cheap Blackberry, I mostly use it to communicate back when I still got UFC offers. I doubt anyone will steal it, but just in case, I put it in the most inconspicuous place- the hidden pouch under the straps. “See you two later.”
*Ding!
*Ding!
*Ding!
An irritating eruption of messages rocks my phone, thus I mumble.
“Do that one more time and I swear on my mama’s grave I will block your number.” The threat works, and soon enough our peace and quiet resume. I bask in the emptiness, knowing it- like every other night- won’t last…
— [Kaleidoscopic Polaris] —
The abrupt sound of a loud bang jolts the boy awake, his disheveled molten blonde hair matted with dirt and grime, while his striking green eyes frantically scan the surroundings in search of the perceived threat. It quickly dawns on him that earlier he has sought refuge inside a closet to evade her. The boy’s heart races, beating against his ribcage, as he clutches his ears tightly in a futile attempt to drown out the unsettling scratching noises and raspy coughs.
A voice, sweetened like condensed milk and flowing smoothly like butter, calls out from beyond the thick door, “Hic-Hon-Honey? Open up. It’s me, it’s mama.” Wide-eyed and filled with fear, the blonde-haired boy recoils within himself, suppressing a tremulous sob.
He knows that the usual rule of ‘out of sight, out of mind’ applies to her, but there are always exceptions to every rule, and looks like tonight is one. “Open up.”
The knocks grow ever more frantic as the boy’s little hands ball around a worn cropped-jacket, desperate to find a source of warmth against the tingling coldness that is slowly, but surely creeping up his spine. “No… No.” He murmur, the only word he knows to say in this situation- his sole defense being the closet that has seen better days.
He has learnt to lodge tiny wooden pieces under and around the frame to keep her out, which coupled with the beat-up chair he has put under the doorknob, it normally deters her from trying further. ‘She must have lost big tonight.’
The boy thinks to himself, eyelids closing shut in hope of getting a wink of sleep so he can go to school tomorrow. After months, he has alas made a few friends and he cannot have them thinking he’s shunned them or something, but like always, she finds a way to put an obstacle in his path. The voice keeps getting louder and progressively more aggressive, taunting him in ways nothing or no one else can. “You th- think I can’t fucking hear you? Open this damn door, you little bastard!”
The once gentle knocks now transform into fierce punches, relentlessly pounding against the weakened wooden barrier.
“Open up…! I said, OPEN. THIS. FUCKING. DOOR!” Growing increasingly frustrated by the ineffectiveness of her fists, she resorts to delivering powerful kicks that reverberate the entire wall, causing it to tremble.
Fortunately, their century-old dilapidated house, despite its age and worn condition, was built with a solid foundation of sturdy bricks and cement, which provide him some reassurance of its structural integrity. When both fail, she turns to her usual weapon- her words, cutting and lethal and venomous, squeeze his heart like sharp, boney fingers. “It’s your fault, you know?”
The lingering gentleness of her voice’s not too different from the calm before a brewing storm. He has seen it one too many times. Does not mean it no longer hurts. “He left me after you’re conceived… If only you have never been born.” There exists an undercurrent of hate and self-loathing to her voice that the boy doesn’t even think she realizes. “It’s you. You are the cause of our misery.”
Perhaps, deep down, Paulina herself is aware of the truth: that she, and her numerous vices, played a significant role in driving his father away. The ever-increasing presence of child support letters scattered haphazardly across the floor, as if a chaotic tornado swept through, serves as a painful reminder. “Won’t you die already?”
“I’ve neglected, starved, screamed and beaten you black and blue… How’re you still alive?” While Julius may not have fully understood the nature of those letters initially, he has always possessed a keen intellect, and he has since started to piece together the truth. His father’s a respectable man from a respectable house, his mother? Not so much. She was 21 when they first met, he 15… “What’s the point of your existence?”
Theirs was the type of relationship that will raise some brows nowadays, but back then in the early 90’s, nobody cared. If anything, they considered it a Rite of Passage for the young boy. Understandably, when news of Paulina’s pregnancy got out, Logan’s parents weren’t too happy, and he doesn’t blame them.
*Thud
“Why’re you making us both suffer?”
It’s no secret his mother’s an even bigger floozy- whatever that means- than the kind Ms. Donovan. To further worsen their situation, she’s half a decade older than him and a well-known gambling / drug addict. He'd know all about that, being her son and all. Needless to say, nobody would allow them to get married- fewer approved of their relationship, but the Fell was her hope to rise above her status and situation, so when they came to her with cash in hands to quiet the situation, his mother has rejected.
“Be good for mommy, okay. Open. The. Door.”
It Is no secret that Julius’ mother, Paulina, is not only a floozy, but an even bigger one than the notorious Ms. Donovan.
To compound their difficult circumstances, Paulina is also five years older than Logan and is widely recognized as a gambling and drug addict. As her son, Julius has unfortunately witnessed firsthand the extent of her struggles with these destructive habits. Unsurprisingly, their relationship and potential marriage faced significant opposition from others, and few approved of their union.
The Fell, however, represented Paulina’s desperate hope for a chance at a better life, prompting her to reject the cash offered to resolve their situation.
What exactly transpired thereafter remains uncertain as these tales aren’t exactly being circulated in Mystic Falls, but Julius is aware that money began appearing two years ago- child support from his father.
He wishes Logan hadn’t sent the money.
As poor as Paulina’s attempts to fulfill her maternal responsibilities when she is sober, at least she still tries. In the end, the funds she receives do not go towards Julius’ well-being but instead fuel her own addictions. It’s such a vicious cycle his mother seems to be stuck in: Cry; take substances; feel better and gamble again. It’d not have hurt nearly as much if not for the fact he knows she can be better, yet every time she tries she backslides instantly.
In moments like these, it feels as if there is no end to the hardships of his life, and his mind involuntarily drifts towards darker thoughts. Within the depths of his consciousness lie untapped, unsettling areas filled with a seed of pure hatred and a vehement disgust for life itself.
While other children are blessed with loving parents and simple joys like a basketball hoop in their backyard, an abundance of food and drinks on their table, he finds himself reduced to scavenging for scraps just to sustain himself, barely scraping by in the face of adversity. It’s not fair, not in the slightest… But Julius is not greedy. He just needs money, God or the Devil can have his parents both.
Eventually, her voice fades which causes Julius’ heartrate to spike.
Paulina never stops.
Not before morning breaks.
Not unless she thinks people can hear or see her in all her horridness.
“Julius?”
Gasping for breath, the boy crumples within the confines of the closet, his attempt to control his emotions proving ultimately futile. “Honey?” The voice persists, reaching out to him from beyond the door. “I’m going to kill you if you keep being difficult.” She threatens with chilling resolution.
Simultaneously, the relentless pounding against the door loses all semblance of humanity, transforming into this- this cold, mechanical strikes of an unfeeling machine battering the layer of wood with reckless abandon. The shadow under the door grows, and similarly so does Julius. “Kill yoU. I’m Going tO kILL YoU! I’m GoING To–” A smile splits his lips, veins pulsing on his forehead, he levels a glare at the closet door, as if he can see beyond it.
When confronted with a threat, individuals typically respond with one of three reactions: Fight, flight, or freeze.
Thus far, he has predominantly utilized the latter two options, but now he contemplates whether it is time to embrace the first option and retaliate.
“Not if I do it first.”
Then all Hell breaks loose…
As the paint peels off, a sense of decay and decrepitude emerges from beneath, almost as if mirroring the twisted state of his mind. In the unsettling dance of his shadow, its movements take on a life of their own, deviating from his own, as it unveils a jagged, toothy smile that sends a shiver down his spine.
— [Kaleidoscopic Polaris] —
The Hyperbolic Chamber service acts as a save point, allowing me to return to my exact location and time before venturing into another world.
However, this convenience comes at a price. On average, a typical trip costs 1 Charge, but in order to resume where we left off, it’ll require 2.
Fortunately, the Magnus App offers a complimentary seat for an additional living being, thus helping to reduce the overall cost of utilizing the Gates. This generous provision proves beneficial in making the expenses more manageable for us clients. Still, even with their offering, the requirement of 2 Charges remains quite substantial. It is important to note that these Charges are not only consumables to power the App but also serve as protections.
As a traveler from a different world, it’s crucial to recognize that things considered normal and harmless in those realms could be incredibly lethal to us.
For instance, if we were to enter a world populated with vampires, werewolves, and other fantastical creatures, their versions of Lycanthropy and Vampirism may have a lot of unpredictable and adverse effects on me as someone from this Earth, which’s where the Charge comes in to help rectify this problem, allowing me to adapt and potentially overcome any potential risks or incompatibilities, but this will also consume said Charge.
Essentially, the decision boils down to a choice between maneuverability, protection and power. While it may not be the ideal situation, it is still more than sufficient.
I have the option to sell any mystical artifacts I come across for additional Charges, and to top it off, the App grants 10 Charges for free every decade, ensuring I won't become trapped in a world if I am unable to find anything valuable to trade.
Unfortunately, without a functioning phone, I am unable to access the App, effectively ruling out any possibility of venturing into medieval worlds for the time being.
[Interested yet, Mr. Campbell?]
To ensure I am not blindly agreeing to unfavorable terms and potentially sacrificing more than intended, I proceed to meticulously read the terms and conditions not once, but three times to gain a thorough understanding of any potential consequences and make a more informed decision before proceeding. “I only have to give you data and that’s it, right?”
[That is correct, Mr. Campbell. Our company does not demand anything beyond living well from our clients. There are no dubious deities to worship or sinister ideologies to promote. Our main focus lies in generating profits, which means we prioritize diversifying, advertising and enhancing our products.
Indeed, our intentions do not revolve around conquest or world domination. To support an entire world and its operations entails significant financial resources. Such endeavors may eat into our profits and potentially provoke the ire of local Entities. Therefore, we earnestly urge you to exercise caution as you navigate through different realms and make your choices wisely.]
I inquire, nose scrunching slightly, “Was that an automated response?”
[No?]
“Then why’s there a question mark at the end of your reply?” Sarcasm
[Just select a world already!]
A wry smile graces my lips as I innocently scratch my head, and confess, “There’s just one problem though—I don’t know that many TV shows or movies.”
[Then go for an animated show. What’s the issue here?]
1wOn one hand, I understand that Annabella is not intentionally causing these difficulties. On the other hand, a part of me feels the strong urge to throw the phone into the water.
Making ends meet has been my main priority, which has made it difficult to find time for entertainment. Before coming across Dana and obtaining better documentation, I relied on odd jobs within the system. Officially, I didn’t exist, and unfortunately, jobs I could take often paid poorly and those that didn’t, violated my moral compass.
Due to these circumstances, leisure and entertainment were rarely feasible. Even after joining the UFC, my primary focus remains on working out, following a healthy diet, and dedicating myself to my new career.
[Oh… Sorry. Don’t know what I was thinking. That was tactless of me.]
“It’s fine.” I shrug, pressing the accept button. “Any recommendation?”
As the line of dots stretches across the screen once more, it is soon followed by the display of three posters. The first poster showcases a leather-clad woman brandishing raised guns, with an ugly, hairy creature lurking in the mist behind her- a complete mockery of nature’s creation. The second poster depicts a figure resembling a Superman-esque Hero, being worshipped by artistic renderings of people. The headline boldly states, ‘Never meet your Heroes’ in capitalized letters.
The third poster features a man dressed in an America-themed outfit, firmly holding a shield. A realization hits me, and I can’t help but exclaim, “Hey, that’s Captain America, right?” Inwardly embarrassed by my own enthusiasm, I let out a small cough to mask my blush and anxiously glance at the screen, anticipating her response.
[You don’t know Harry Potter, Danny Phantom, and other shows, but you just happen to randomly recognize Captain America? Freakin’ really?!]
“Don’t shame me!” I exclaim, causing the bird nestled in my breast pocket to wake up in a fluster and start pecking at my hair frantically. “Ouch, ouch! I apologize, Nanna! I didn't mean to!”
[Don’t know why I’m even surprised any more. Here–]
The helplessness in her tone would have been somewhat amusing if it weren’t directed towards me. Timestamps are then assigned to each poster.
[I suggest you steal the bottled pure Corvinus Strain the Lane extracted from Eve Corvin, acquire several cases of Compound V, and then seek out Dr. Erskine for assistance in introducing and administering both substances into your system. With the App's secured Inventory Function, as per my father’s insistences, you can safely store your phone and the obtained items within the Inventory.]
“Steal?” I repeat, my smile immediately turning upside-down.
[If it’ll provide a measure of reassurance, it is worth noting that both the Lane and Vought are unapologetically abhorrent.
They’re involved in kidnapping, purchasing, and experimenting of infants. Both are epitomes of despicable. They are the lowest of the low, the scummiest of scums. They’re also filthy rich so fret not, you won’t even make a dent to their billion-dollar blood fortunes.]
“Moral deterioration occurs when individuals of integrity fail to take action,” I wonder aloud, expressing my concern. “What consequences shall befall the world if even those who should stand against corruption become partakers in it.”
[The transformative essence of the world cannot be solely attributed to the virtue of goodness. It is in this reasoning that the notion arises, affirming that the omnipotent force often attributed to God is not merely a consequence of moral rectitude, but rather, the prevailing judgment recognizes God’s righteousness by virtue of their inherent omnipotence.]
Annabella counters, catching me off guard with her sudden intellectual tone. Her argument holds validity as she contends that relying solely on goodness has its limitations. The example she presents further elucidates her perspective, suggesting that in the face of overwhelming power, even the superiority of ideology would have been insufficient to save us. Case in point, the Axis powers versus the Alliance.
“Fair enough,” I concede, raising my arms in surrender. “Still, it is quite bold of you to assume that I’ll be able to successfully steal from presumably secured and well-protected facilities, Ms. Magnum.”
[Most may not be aware of your adrenaline trick, but I certainly am not among them. As long as you equip yourself with a suitable weapon, you should be more than capable of surviving any obstacles thrown your direction, Mr. Campbell.]
“How’d you know about that?”
I inquire with pinched brows, and Annabella responds smugly.
[We always thoroughly review the resumes of the individuals we intend to recruit.]
With a scoff, I click on the timestamp for Underworld: Awakening and find myself on a streaming site. As the show begins playing, I curiously touch the screen and am amazed to see ripples forming over the area where my finger made contact. Until now, a small part of me was still in doubt, but this- it’s irrefutable evidence to Annabella’s claims. “Holy shit? It’s real? You’re actually telling the truths?!”
[Of course I was! ( ・`д・´)!]
I let out a chuckle as the message vanishes. Tilting my head, I look at Nanna and exhale before asking, “Are you ready, girl?” As if she can understand me, the lovebird bobs her cute head, successfully drawing a chuckle out of me. “Here goes nothing.”
Luckily, Nanna and I had planned to camp in the park for a few days thus rendering the need to gather necessities null. I also have a cheap machete, originally intended for splitting wood, but I wouldn’t hesitate to use it for self-defense. Taking another breath, I plunge my entire hand into the screen, and immediately get pulled into a swirling, multicolored typhoon.
In a state of confusion, I enter the Gate and clumsily stumble, landing right beside two men. One appears to be in his late fifties or early sixties, while the other is probably in his thirties. I witness the older man injecting something into the veins of the younger one, just as I arrive in their world. Their black eyes quickly lock onto me as they reveal their menacing fangs.
Slightly crouched and wide-eyed, I manage a wry smile and wave at the two men. “Okay, I’ll say it, I did not plan this out very well at all...”
They snarl and approach me menacingly as I quickly jump back, raising a hand in a placating gesture. "Wait! Don't you want to know what that portal was?"
The two men exchange glances, and then the older one gestures towards me with his head. “What is it? Who are you?”
"I'm Julius Campbell," I introduce myself, extending my hand towards them. "I'm a Dimensional Traveler and just an overall pretty normal guy. Nice to meet you two."
As I extend my hand, I notice a flicker of uncertainty in the elder's eyes. A shiver runs down my spine. I've faced men whose sole purpose was to inflict brutal violence upon me, and I have stood on equal grounds with actual killers. But this... It feels different. It is like nothing I've ever experienced before, as if the beings standing before me are not just people, but something utterly inhuman.
Their mannerisms further reinforce this notion, their movements slow and graceful, akin to beasts in the guise of human. “Well, ‘Julius’–” The younger one stalks forth, wide- toothy grin reflecting the dim white light. “How did you break into our facility?”
“The more important question is: Why?” The elder, presumably the father, adds- leveling a hard stare at me. “Well, I was wondering if I can have a bottle of the Corvinus Strain.” No idea what its function is, or what it even is, but it sounds suspiciously like a virus. ‘This better be worth it, Annabella.’
*Ding
*Ding
*Ding
A row of notifications shakes my phone and I reach in to turn on vibration mode.
Gesturing towards the vials in the elder's hands, and smirks begin to form on their faces in response. “What makes you think we’ll just give it to you?”
"It's a good thing I'm not expecting you to give it to me for free then." I remark, feeling my heart rate quicken and adrenaline being pumped throughout my system. The realization dawns on them, as if they can perceive my changes.
‘Heightened senses?’ I ponder internally, though my expression remains unchanged- calm as a cucumber. Knowing that alone won’t convince them, I force my body to its limits until my forehead starts to throb painfully. Glancing at my reflection, the two and I watch as my fair skin turns an angry, pinkish purple shade. “I wish to propose a trade. My blood–”
With clenched fists, I forcefully slam my hand against the reinforced wall, causing the medicines and equipment to shake along with it and leaving a huge dent. None of the equipment breaks, much to my relief. "I'll trade three of those vials for it." I assert firmly. “And what’s stopping me from capturing you right now?”
The younger werewolf, or perhaps a demon- you never know, and I don’t want to reveal my lack of knowledge either- growls menacingly in response. "And why shouldn’t we capture you? You broke into our facility. It’s our constitutional right to kill you.” I maintain a calm demeanor, though inwardly I’m far from composed, literally clenching my buttocks, hoping neither will try to initiate a fight. Taking on one of them might be possible, but facing both of them is going to be difficult, or so my instinct tells me.
"Because you just witnessed me teleporting into your lab through a portal." I retort owlishly.
The expression on his face flickers briefly between irritation and amusement. It almost feels like he is torn between admiring my devil-may-care attitude and being angered by the perceived disrespect. “What made you think we even want your blood in the first place?”
My eyes roam across the lab, and I blink rapidly at him, listing off everything I see. “Sketchy lab, two guys injecting weird virus-thing in their veins raw, a freaking operating table that looks like it belongs in a B-tier horror movie set and bloodstained equipment strewn all over. Need I say more?”
The younger one stifles a chuckle, a smile reaching his eyes. “Oh, I like him, father. I’ll make you a counteroffer, Julius.” He says, stretching his body and flexing his shoulder-blades as he groans and puts on a shirt. “You give us your blood, we give you the bite and three vials.”
Instantly, it dawns on me. ‘So they are werewolves.’ I think to myself. Their mention of a bite makes it hard to deny what they truly are. ‘Really, Anna? It’s my first time and you sent me to two werewolves… Are you trying to kill me?’
“I only need the Corvinus Strain.”
The younger werewolf’s brows become pinched. “What, you think you’re better than us?”
“No,” I firmly respond, choosing to use a made-up excuse. There must be a reason why Anna instructed me to obtain the Corvinus Strain instead of getting the bite, and I trust Anna much more than these two, so I’m going to go with her advice.
“But your Strain is too unpredictable. As a Foreigner to your world, there’s a risk that the Strain could be lethal upon contact. On the other hand, the pure Strain is stable, and I plan on conducting experiments with it before considering any injection.”
“Smart.” The elder werewolf nods in approval as he hears my reasoning. The exchange that follows happens swiftly and efficiently– 400Ml of my blood in exchange for three vials. The trade may seem heavily in their favor, but their vials are the finished product, whereas it still remains unknown if my blood would grant them any additional benefits. “It has been a pleasure doing business with you, gentlemen.”
I wave goodbye to the two werewolves and retrieve my phone, intending to traverse into the next world.
However, upon unlocking my phone, I am greeted by a flood of messages from Anna, who has been trying to reach me.
[Why’d you jump right next to them, you idiot!]
.
[RUN! WHAT’RE YOU DOING?!]
.
[You know, after all that talks about Good and Evil, I was expecting you to execute them both, not make a deal with them, but whatever…]
That’s her latest message, which prompts a headshake from me. “There’s nothing I could have done. I was outnumbered, and they look roided up.”
There’s being brave, and then there is being stupidly reckless. It would be foolish to proceed without adequate strength to face the Lane. Furthermore, with the convenience of the App, there is no rush or time constraint, which’s why I chose to propose a trade instead of going in guns-blazing. But, contrary to my expectations, no reply comes. “Are you upset?”
Again, nothing. “Fine. Be like that.”
Despite our brief acquaintance of only three hours, Anna’s presence in my life has felt remarkably natural. Surprisingly, I even find myself missing her constant nagging. Maybe I am lonely… Oh-Well, it is how it is. I'm sure she will reach out to me again soon enough. “Next up–”
My phone screen flashes with the picture of Walmart Superman. Much like what I did earlier, I open a portal to their world, greeted by a warehouse full of vials containing glinting blue substances. The Inventory follows the same principal as Minecraft’s–
[Are you fucking kidding me, Minecraft?!]
Train of thoughts broken by Anna’s message, I level a stare at my phone and say warmly. “Welcome back.”
