My mind raced through every video game and tabletop campaign I'd ever played, a highlight reel of digital and dice-rolled personas flickering through my memory like a speed-run of my misspent youth. The excitement building in my chest was embarrassingly genuine -the kind of pure, unironic joy I hadn't felt since discovering you could put bacon in a milkshake. Part of me wanted to high-five my inner twelve-year-old who'd spent countless hours min-maxing character sheets while the rest of the world was discovering dating and deodorant.
Rangers, warriors, mages, rogues, and bards -the fantasy food groups of every RPG ever created. Each archetype unfolding before my mind's eye with their respective aesthetics and skill trees. The ranger with their animal companion that inevitably gets itself killed by walking into lava. The warrior who solves every problem by hitting it harder and whose dialogue options always include at least one grunt. The mage whose glass-cannon fragility is offset by the ability to reshape reality and wear fabulously impractical robes.
Druids, yeah now that's OP. Nothing says game-breaking like turning into a bear while still being able to cast spells -the supernatural equivalent of bringing a tank to a knife fight and then revealing the tank can also fly. I briefly imagined myself shape-shifting into various woodland creatures before remembering that my current diet would make interactions with forest animals ethically complicated at best.
Or something darker, more broody. Like Death Knight -the edgelord's champion, all pale skin, glowing eyes, and armor that looks like it was designed by a committee of angsty teenagers who exclusively shop at Hot Topic. The character you pick when you want the NPCs to whisper nervously as you walk by and your entrance to always be accompanied by ominous Latin chanting.
Given my current state of undeath, necromancer might make the most sense -a job where being technically deceased was less a handicap and more a prerequisite on the résumé. But like the Bloodweaver evolution, it just felt too... deathy. Too on-the-nose, like a vampire naming themselves "Fang" or a werewolf whose favorite song is "Hungry Like the Wolf." There's embracing your nature and then there's becoming a walking stereotype who might as well wear a nametag that says "Hello, I am metaphorically and literally dead inside."
The possibilities sprawled before me like an all-you-can-eat buffet of supernatural career paths, each with their own cosmic benefits package and afterlife insurance policies. The kind of decision most people never get to make -standing at the crossroads of who you are and who you could become, except all roads lead to increased power and the ability to make things explode with your mind.
Still, the options were too good to pass up. I definitely needed a class. In a world where gods placed bets on mortals and cosmic entities treated reality like their personal playground, remaining unclassified was like showing up to a nuclear war armed with strongly worded tweets and a particularly sharp stick.
To top it off, my gut was telling me that without one, I couldn't allocate XP properly, meaning I wasn't going to be able to get the full benefits of my potential advancements. I scanned through the system tabs and notices, but no options were presented. Which wasn't surprising.
How the hell do I get a class? I mentally grumbled.
Right on cue, a notification appeared:
System Notification: Finding Purpose (a.k.a. What's My Motivation?)
Objective: Uncover the secrets of obtaining a class.
Rewards: New Class
(Rarity: Variable; Tier: Variable; based on efficacy of class quest completion.)
I processed that for a minute. If I was understanding it correctly, the system was saying that depending on how well I handled finding and unlocking my class, the rarity and tier of my reward would be affected. No pressure or anything -just my entire supernatural career path hanging in the balance. It was like a metaphysical job interview where I didn't know the job description, company culture, or required qualifications, but somehow still needed to nail it.
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
A blinking notification under the quests tab caught my attention. It was designed to be unmissable, an irritating reminder that something needed my attention -like an annoying little sibling whispering, "I'm not touching you" while hovering a finger millimeters away. Personal space is real. I should know, what with my ability to see auras and all.
The notification continued to pulse with all the subtlety of a neon sign outside a Vegas strip club.
I selected the tab and saw that I had failed a quest. Somehow I had forgotten it in the shuffle. Well, damn. There’s no way I’ll get my 100% completionist badge now, I thought.
I scanned for repercussions. And came up empty, other than missing out on the XP, skill unlock, bonuses, and rewards. Ouch. It was a drag, but nothing world-ending.
Mental note: keep the quest notifications unmuted, just like my mini-map.
With that in mind, I decided I needed to reorganize my interface. A bit of mental effort later, I had successfully rearranged my HUD to keep important elements visible while hiding unnecessary clutter. I was Marie Kondo-ing my supernatural interface -if a notification didn't spark joy, it got relegated to the submenus.
Speaking of experience, I had accumulated quite a bit of it. What it was for, I had no idea. But it seemed to be gained from doing more than just defeating deadly foes, or completing quests *cough*, though doing those sure helped.
I saw that while it wasn’t a quest, I had earned a significant amount of karmic brownie points for enduring Lily's slideshow about vampire pre-history without falling asleep or making too many sarcastic comments during the presentation. Go me.
I discovered the system maintained a memory log -a running record of everything I did, whether I actively paid attention to it or not. It made me wonder: would I run out of memory space? Were there upgrades? Maybe that's what Intelligence and the Mind stat was for. Something to look into later, right after I figured out why I kept getting cosmically hijacked by paranormal women with cryptic messages and world-altering revelations. Just another Tuesday in the life of Declan Dark.
That made me think of Dom. She had energy draining abilities, but I suspected they leaned more towards soul sucking, like a succubus effect. But despite her power set, she didn’t strike me as “undead”. Lily’s revelations did not show the variety of beings that existed in the metaverse. Just the vampires and werewolves -shifters. But maybe there were other origins.
Something else to investigate, preferably with a clipboard, a deerstalker hat, and a comically oversized magnifying glass.
I wanted to share my discoveries with my closest friend in this wild and crazy world. But Jinx was still pissed at me. Rightfully so. Sort of. I mean, it wasn't my fault, but that didn't matter. The road to friendship hell is paved with "it wasn't my fault" excuses.
I swore a minor vow to myself: no more holding back. If I cared about someone, I was going to tell them the truth -regardless of whether it hurt their feelings or ended a friendship. A vow of complete candor.
I had a premonition that this was going to get me into a lot of trouble. Oh well. What's the worst that could happen? Other than the complete collapse of my social circle, eternal loneliness, and possibly being staked through the heart by someone who used to bake me cookies.
I needed to get moving, but I had no idea where to start. Unfortunately, there was a total lack of system notifications providing me with the exact quest I needed to get me pointed in the right direction.
Speaking of systems, I needed to talk with someone about mine and find out if it was a normal part of being inducted into the supernatural world of whatever this was. Or if it was my own special brand of crazy.
I made a mental note -not to ask Jinx. She wasn't in the mood to help me. Her "Declan tolerance" meter was currently registering somewhere between "would prefer a root canal" and "actively considering arson." I considered Hopper, but that would only make things worse with Jinx. Nile was busy. That left... Dom. Maybe she was my best option. At least she hadn't sworn a blood oath against helping me yet. Small victories.
Decision made, I exited the room, while trying to avoid detection as much as possible. I moved like a tax evader at an IRS convention -technically present but trying very hard not to be noticed. Then my Veil Shift ability triggered, and once again I was in the Between.
Jackpot.
The Shadow Realm -or whatever it was- should allow me to slip through the vampire house unnoticed. I was the supernatural equivalent of a ghost employee -present on the payroll but never actually seen in the office.
I crept down the hall.
My plan was solid -until I saw the Queen Bee herself and her minions heading toward my temporary quarters. Not wanting to be caught under her sway again -I'd had enough mind control in one day to last several lifetimes. I turned-
Straight into a wall.
Fortunately, I didn't slam into it like a cartoon idiot, complete with slide-whistle sound effect and stars circling my head. Instead, I phased through it, like stepping into thick fog. For a few moments, I was completely blind -even my Veil Sight failed me as the material world bled into the realm I inhabited. It was like being trapped in the loading screen between reality channels.
After what felt like forever -but was probably closer to the time it takes for an impatient person to microwave a Hot Pocket- I emerged on campus. Relieved, I headed toward the enchanted walkways. Then I realized -I had no idea where to find Dom. My supernatural GPS was currently recalculating while driving through a tunnel during a solar flare.
Back to the tried and true, Zen Walking. Last time it got me where I needed to go. Hopefully it would do the same again.
I checked the gym. Nothing. Cafeteria? Empty. Frustrated, I considered my options. I still had time before my meeting with Nile, so I decided to check on my two familiar friends at the hospital.
- Followers go up? Boom, bonus chapter.
- Favorites go up? Ka-ching, bonus chapter.
- Reviews? Cue the confetti -bonus chapter and a shoutout, because I care.
- Ratings go up? You guessed it -bonus chapter. (And I might even crack a smile. Maybe.)