Year 0 Month 3 Week 2

  —Clack-clack-Clack—

  “Go back to your home planet!”

  “Keep running! You can’t outrun what you’ve done!”

  “You’re killing yourself!”

  Shouts from teens and young adults—all too young to have awoken—followed Zephyr through the local college campus. Misinformation was running rampant, especially around campus. An echo chamber of people not understanding what was happening. The most recent and troubling was quest crystals were some kind of drug. With his constant cloud of sparkly quests constantly floating behind him helped make sure he was a target. Supposedly, they were used for mind control.

  That was just one of the latest in a long line of theories: Alien body snatchers, brainwashing, the first part of the apocalypse—all the wild rifts weren’t helping there, the unworthy did not survive. A lot of rhetoric and, worst of all, Zephyr hated how many he couldn’t refute. Since no one really knew what was going on.

  And a lot of people weren’t happy, especially those yet to go through the change. Thankfully, the kids kept it to shouting and only light trash-throwing. Despite all this, Zephyr couldn’t fault them; they were simply desperate to cling to anything right now. Didn’t mean he wouldn’t be trying to change his routes.

  It wasn’t all bad. Other than the harassment Zephyr found, he enjoyed his routes, and most people—other than a few previously mentioned—seemed to smile and wave. They’d even started to call him squirrel guy.

  That might be due to him figuring out how to shape his trailing cloud of crystals into a squirrel's ears and tail. Best part. All his clients were eating it up. Absolutely love it. And it’s now part of all their requests. It might take a lot of crystals to maintain, but it was amazing advertising, as now his route brought him to over fifty miles in a day. With enough stops, he could barely keep up. If it wasn’t for leveling his skill, he would have never been able to run that far. Let alone in a day.

  “Delivery for Sabeen.” His last delivery for the day was to a regular customer who had been there since day one. She, along with several other lawyers, was convinced they came up with the idea. No matter how often he corrected them.

  The girl at the desk smiled, “Ok, give it to me.”

  This was another odd expectation; by adopting the name Ratatoskr, he had to come up with insults with each delivery, and he was having trouble with it. Despite that, they were eating it up.

  Zephyr pulled out a small slip of paper and read, “Two wrongs don't make a right; just look at your parents.”

  “Nice. Did you get that out of a My First Insults Book?” She shot back.

  Which was so much more devastating than his own. he grabbed his chest, “Right through the heart.”

  She giggled, “Go on up.”

  Zephyr smiled and headed to the elevator, practically vibrating as he stepped inside. His day was almost over, and today was the day. He stared at the hundreds of quests following him, filling the elevator. “Soon.”

  A feeling had been growing throughout the last week, growing ever more certain that today he’d hit level ten, and something would happen. He could feel it; something about that level was different, in a way he couldn’t explain. Tim and Jake had their own opinions, agreeing that something might happen. Jake talked about the rule of three and ten and something about a tribulation.

  Zephyr had already been through a lot; he was still nursing numerous scrapes and bruises from various incidents. Wild packs of dogs, teens, or the occasional startled clowder—a word he had to look up and still thinks it was made up— of cats.

  —vrrr-vrrrr-vrrr—

  Zephyr’s phone vibrated. Seeing it was Tim, he answered and went straight to it. “I’m about to hit ten!”

  “A hello works to…Wait, really?!”

  “Yeah! You want me to come by for the level-up. I just have this last delivery.”

  “Please, do. This would be perfect. I am running some other important tests. So it’ll be a few hours, but we can do some pre and post-leveling tests!” Tim ranted. Getting more excited as he went on.

  Zephyr laughed, “I’ll see you in a few hours.” The elevator door opened to his last delivery as he hung up.

  #

  A nebula of shining dust and crystals orbits around a man sitting in the center of a plain room. Zephyr looked around, sniffed, and just barely loud enough for the microphone to pick up, says, “I should have changed.”

  From off screen, “Hello, I am your favorite scientist and most magical Archmage, Tim, and with us today is our favorite returning guest and squirrel—” At the mention of squirrel, the nebula reshaped into ears and a tail. “Ratatoskr —and his little trick that I’m still struggling with—has been working diligently with us over the past few months, sacrificing his own personal body leveling to remain at level one.” The screen cuts to Tim sitting in a separate room with Zephyr sitting in the center of a one-way mirror. He was really hamming it up and presenting an embarrassed, red-faced Zephyr. “So that we can see and understand the effects of leveling just the skill. Today, we are excited to say that he is about to reach a new threshold. Skill level ten. The first documented level ten skill.”

  Tim addressed the audience directly, leaning forward, “Now, you may wonder why this matters. We have observed—through traveling multiple object and area rifts and accidental coma patients.”

  Zephyr pointedly did not look at the camera.

  “That the subconscious, memories, and overall experiences of an area—or person—play a massive part in there formation. Now, we as a people are base ten. Everything comes in bundles of five and ten. Thanks to this, we hypothesize that something will occur at level ten. And today, Ratatoskr may validate that hypothesis.”

  The screen cut back to Zephyr alone.

  Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  -Click-

  “Now Ratatoskr. Let’s start simple. How can you know your skill is going to level?”

  “Besides the massive cloud of experience crystals?”

  -Click-

  “Yes”

  “It’s like a vague feeling, like something is ready. Like something is just waiting for me to hit a button.”

  -Click-

  “With that said, can you confirm that you have increased your skill and only your skill?”

  “Yes. I am still level one in body.”

  -Click-

  “Have you experienced anything beyond superhuman? Maybe running on air?”

  Zephyr took a moment to think. “No? Maybe. Nothing obvious. But my running has been known to give people headaches. And I seem to have become an Olympic level runner…” He paused before correcting himself, “Maybe not in speed, but distance? It’s shocking how fast I was able to improve.”

  -Click-

  “I have seen you run; it’s almost perfect. It’s a bit eerie.”

  “Thanks? And are you clicking a pen every time you talk or something?”

  Completely ignored the comment, and coincidently, the clicking noise stopped. “You’re welcome. And I understand you use quests. Do they speed up your skill leveling?”

  “Kind of. When I use a lot of them, they fill up my—for lack of a better term—space. Then that energy lets me analyze myself closer, from every step to foot placement to muscle movement. The energy lets me examine things closer and for longer. However, I think if I used a bunch of that energy and simply lay around doing nothing, I doubt there would be much for me to learn. So the I wouldn’t level…Maybe.”

  “So they are knowledge multipliers? And do skills level through energy or knowledge? Based on what you’re saying, it’s not just expending energy like it is with the body.”

  “If I had to say it’s like an experience multiplier—to use game terms. You need the energy to analyze yourself and practical experience to have something to analyze.”

  “Fascinating. So now you are saying that you feel your knowledge has reached its peak?”

  “No. Kind of?” Zephyr floundered, “It’s more like I reached some peek. Or plateau?”

  “That’s great information. Now, is there anything you would like to add before leveling?”

  Zephyr smiled, “Leveling my skill has been a lot of work, but also a lot of fun. I feel amazing every time I run. I literally feel like I’m growing with every step. It’s something I didn’t have before, but now I do. I love every minute of it.” Zephyr's face turned red. “And now I feel embarrassed, so goodbye.” He waved at the camera before vanishing inside his own rift, a nebula of crystal swirling the spot he had been illuminating a prismatic scar.

  #

  In a place neither here nor there. A place fully within himself, between a dream and something else. He floated, existed, and did not. His soul unfurled into an indescribable nebula of life. A place Zephyr had often come to learn.

  Slowly, his awareness expanded over the outer layer of—what he believed was—his soul, like a human-shaped outer shell, hard yet fragile. If he desired, Zephyr could reinforce it or guide his energy into the representation of his body if he so desired, elevating his form to the next level. It would be so easy.

  Every time he came here, he wondered what might happen if he let himself do it. It seemed so simple. Would he run faster? Longer? Would he finally lose the weight? His stubborn gut refused to leave despite his intense exercise. The temptation was right there every single time. Ignoring it, he dove through the outer shell, searching deeper in his soul where his skill lay—just beyond the shell sat his skill, filling his entirety like a cloud of particles floating within. As his awareness touched the cloud, the process began.

  Memory flooded through him. Some gray and dull, others vibrant, screaming at him to look closer. His everything engulfed those moments, from every movement—right and wrong—to how he breathed, how his blood moved through his body as he stepped, moved, or breathed. Every single minute detail drove him to push past his limits and level.

  Instead of pushing past like he usually did, everything stopped waiting. It was like a question sitting there, as if to ask: Keep going or more?

  The memories shifted to show him moving through the rougher terrain, going farther and longer, how it could evolve, adding to what was already there. The power inside him was scrapping against the outer shell, a storm waiting for his decision.

  To him, it was no choice at all. He may have asked for his opinion if Tim had been there, but here he knew what he would choose. He knew what he wanted, deep down to his core. Here, he couldn’t lie, especially to himself.

  Zephyr made his choice. Following new instincts, he began to wrap himself all around the skill, like a hand grasping, and began to squeeze. It felt like he had grabbed every bit of knowledge and energy he had gathered as the particles slowly scrunched together, the memories inside himself growing denser, from a small cloud of particles to a thick mist.

  Condensing smaller and smaller, Zephyr felt like there should have been some indication other than the cloud, pain, pressure, or even pleasure. Except it was none of that. It was like he was accepting himself and what he chose. Sure, it was a mild catharsis, but no grand revelation as he excepted himself and began to watch the core of his soul grow and change in a way he could barely understand.

  He was no longer a simple runner; no, his soul condensed. Evolving from Running into Long Running. A description that barely covered the surface of what it really was. Something he’d never truly be able to put into words, but Long Running was close enough.

  Even in this state, he couldn't help but wonder what he’d become. How much more could he do? What would happen as the world changed? He had only touched the edge of this new world. He basked in the feeling of evolution for what felt like an age, but it was only five minutes in the real world. He felt denser inside and yet so empty. Ready and waiting for new knowledge to fill it, something he now knew would always have more room.

  Tim is going to freak out when he learns this. His thoughts were almost giddy when thinking of Tim’s reaction. He ignored the niggling thought, of how Tim, would want an entire new series of tests, trying to bring him down. He knew Tim might want to try to guide his evolution or have him level instead, but here, he knew that could never be. It was his choice. It would always be his, and he would follow it to the end. With that glorious thought, the man fell back out of the portal to be interrogated by two scientists.

  #

  —Soft, calming music—

  A video of a person sitting on a bed with a CGI rift floating behind him, looking troubled. A voice from off-screen asks, “Having trouble?”

  The person looked up and nodded at the voice.

  “Need someone to talk to?”

  Again, he nodded.

  The image froze as another of a man in a nice suit looking open and welcoming as he sat in front of a rather large desk. With a brass plate that said “Leon E., MS, LPC, CADC” next to him.

  “Life has changed drastically for everyone, so feeling lost and confused is natural. With these challenging times, having a space where you can healthily voice these concerns can be a safe haven some desperately need.” The scene cuts to Leon walking through a warm and well-lit hall with a series of offices next to him. Through the window showed someone with a headset talking.

  “Here, our team of highly trained counselors is that unbiased ear. Waiting to walk you through it. Your change.

  The scene shifted again to him behind his desk. “People are affected by the Awakening every day. Individuals going through it, not to mention their friends and families. Everyone has been affected by it in some way. Here at Prepped Acres, we believe you are you no matter what, and with our staff of professionals, we are here to ensure you have an unbiased ear to listen. With our team of trained professionals, we are sitting on the leading edge of what is and isn't true. Bringing clarity to everyone and what help you or your loved ones can give.

  The scene cuts to a large room with a bunch of metal folding chairs in a circle, with various people and Leon sitting at the head, seemingly leading a group. The voice-over continued, “If you also need or enjoy our services, please check out our outpatient facility, where we work to get you back to you. Or drop in for one of our group therapy sessions to see you are not alone.”

  The scene cut once more to his desk and a large smile on Leon’s face. “We are here for you. We are a calm place, staffed with a team of trained professionals who are there to talk, listen, and help you return to a new normal. Our councilors are waiting to talk to you, and remember, you’re not a bad person.”

  The scene froze on a phone number with a disclaimer on the screen as a voice quickly read. “Prepped Acres councilors do not provide medical advice, is not a substitute for in-person therapy, nor validation, and that users should not rely on the service for diagnosis or treatment of serious mental health conditions.

  * * *