The Last Experience Point

Chapter 102: SYSTEM BREACH

Adamus opened his eyes. He had seen more than enough. There was now sufficient data for him to know how events would conclude with near certainty. At this point, continuing to watch would serve no purpose other than entertainment, and that, without question, was unethical. His system was not designed to be “entertainment” for self-proclaimed “Gods” to watch as if for sport. His creations did not spill blood so that he could draw some kind of sick, twisted enjoyment from it. No, he found that so utterly distasteful. His responsibility was to observe only that which was sufficient to form an understanding of Galterra’s probable trajectory and to uphold the system.

Of course, not everyone agreed with him. That much was obvious from the raucous shouting, cheering, and gasps from his OMP agents, which were loud enough that he could hear them through several solid walls. He imagined nearly every eye was glued to a terminal screen, watching as the raid entered its final stage. Yet Adamus did not interfere with their desires. If they wished to observe, so be it. It was more a personal dislike, and one that Adamus did not make the issue of others.

For the time being, he had far greater matters to attend to. There was a problem that had arisen, though he did not yet know what it might be. He could only sense that something had gone wrong as his mind detected a presence about to board his station. One of his best trackers had returned, and he seemed distressed.

Adamus could feel him—and his precise location—as the man’s small, single-person shuttle docked. Then, Adamus sat at his desk and waited patiently as the man underwent arrival procedures, passed through several airlocks, and began making his way down many of the narrow corridors that eventually led to his office. Even before the sound of a knock came from his door, Adamus called out and said, “Come in, Zylor.”

The door opened, and into Adamus’s office strode Zylor Ursock, one of Adamus’s most proficient agents from the secretive OMP station 7. He was a man who looked to be in his early thirties despite pushing three hundred, with spiky black hair, scars that ran down both sides of his face, and a crooked chin. When Adamus had found him, he had been a gang member and killer for hire. But now, he served the system. And he did so from a genuine place of support. Much like Adamus, he understood that the system was the way forward for sentient life and the goodness of all people.

“Adamus,” he said, offering a respectful bow of his head.

“Has something happened, dear boy? You are troubled.”

Zylor nodded. “Yeah, something’s happened, all right.” He curled his nose as though in disgust. “There’s been a system breach.”

Adamus sat up straighter. Though hardly ever perturbed, if there was one thing that could cause him some degree of upset, it was hearing one of his trackers say those words. “Of what sort?”

Zylor hesitated a moment, then licked his bottom lip as though nervous. “Outside intrusion.”

“What?” Adamus lowered his eyes a moment and slowly shook his head. “Surely not.”

“Wish it wasn’t so, but…it’s true.”

“You are positive of this, dear boy? An outside intrusion?”

“That’s not even the half of it, actually,” Zylor said, becoming visibly disturbed.

“What has happened? Please, tell me what you know.”

“It’s your wife, Eilea. She’s gone and messed with things real bad.”

“How badly?”

He drew a breath. “She’s brought a Gods-be-damned original here.”

Adamus coughed, then excused himself and covered his mouth. The man’s words had caused him a rare moment of shock. “It cannot be. She would not!”

“She has.”

“Do you mean to tell me there is an actual human being on Galterra?”

“That’s right. Fully unmodified. A Psych, as they would have called him in his time.”

The words struck Adamus hard. Putting their thousand-year squabble aside, how could Eilea even begin to do something of this nature? This extended so far beyond treacherous it bordered on outright madness. Aside from the lizardmen, all sentient life on Galterra hailed from a progenitor species known as homo sapiens. Superficially, they were a species that looked, acted, and behaved like Galterran humans, which were modeled after them. But none of them were meant to exist in this time. In fact, the average homo sapien was not even compatible with the system, as the original human race contained no inner potential.

If an ordinary human were to appear on Galterra, they would die within moments. Only a very specific and rare type of human could possibly stand upon Galterran soil and live: the type whose genetics formed the basis of all living Galterrans today, including those that had been spliced within the lizardmen. They were people who in a far less sophisticated, unscientific age were called “wizards” or “sorcerers,” and then a great deal later were known as “Psychs.” These were people born with specific abilities that could not be stripped away from them even if integrated into the system.

If a Psych were to find its way into the system, the individual would be able to unlock both the powers gained from leveling as well as draw upon their own natural abilities, such as the ability to move objects with their mind, manipulate chemical compositions, assassinate others with just their thoughts, or harden their bodies into something far stronger than steel. The system was not built to handle this. The entire purpose of it was to unlock the potential within beings through effort and cooperation: not be born with it. Such an unfair advantage: it offended Adamus so deeply that it moved him to actual anger.

“Who is this intruder?” he asked.

“I know his name and a basic description, but not his current whereabouts. He’s been shielded from tracking.”

“Tell me. Who is he and what does he look like?”

“His name is Jimmy Thomas Green. He’s nineteen years old, black, of average height with short black hair, brown eyes, and a birthmark below his belly button. At least…based on the autopsy report filed thousands of years ago.”

Adamus closed his eyes a moment. “I doubt he is complicit in any of this,” he whispered.

“So what do ya want me to do?”

“You must handle this, Zylor. But I ask you to please not be barbaric with the boy. This is most certainly no fault of his own. If possible, I should like you to handle it such that he does not feel any pain.”

“You got it. I just need to find him first.”

Adamus sat back in his chair and rubbed his forehead. Eilea had gone too far this time. Locking her away did not appear to be sufficient. He now had to make a very consequential decision as to whether or not the woman needed to be erased for good. How could she ever imagine that he would let her get away with a crime of this magnitude? If the Great Ones from that era ever caught wind of what she’d done, it could result in the elimination of the system and everyone in it. She had crossed too big a line, and now, he needed time to think.

*****

A stranger to this world, Jimmy had no idea what was going on or what the significance of the shit on TV was. Whatever it was, though, it was definitely having a powerful impact on the way everyone around here was acting. To be clear, this wasn’t the first time he’d seen a bunch of old people go from hysterical crying to cheering. That was just called watching football. But even then, it sure wasn’t like this. These people were losing their minds.

To be fair to them, though, Jimmy had a sense that if he understood more about this world, he might be just as worried as they were. He might not have known just what in the hell any of this meant, but he had a pretty good sense of danger, and the way they were acting made him feel like he might be caught up in this too.

If I wasn’t so busy trying to figure so many things out, I might even care.

When he’d woken up this morning, he’d really hoped it would be in his own bed. He’d hoped this would all have been some kind of crazy dream. But nope. He was still here, in this…in wherever this was. But he was taking it in stride, all things considered. Mom taught him to be a survivor, and that was what he was. That was why, rather than pester these nice people with another million questions, he decided to appreciate their hospitality and do his best to contribute while piecing things together for himself.

Yesterday, upon realizing he had no place to go and no one to call, they’d actually offered him a job and a place to stay. They said the pay wouldn’t be much, but he’d have a bed to sleep in at night and three-square meals. For the sake of survival, Jimmy immediately took them up on the offer. He would seek out answers to his questions in time, but for now, before he did a single other thing, he needed to make sure he had food and shelter. Only then could he worry about wrapping his mind around how and why he was here at all.

One thing was for sure, though: he knew he wasn’t crazy. Even if no one believed him, he would not doubt himself. He knew who he was, and he knew where he came from. He also could vividly recall the events that took place just before coming here. He was not crazy. He was Jimmy Green, and he was damn well going to get through this.

At any rate, things were getting stranger around here. After a pretty good breakfast—they had eggs and toast here, thank God—he began the day by mopping the floors and finishing up whatever dishes hadn’t been washed the night before. Sure, it wasn’t exactly the kind of work he imagined doing when he’d taken out all those student loans so he could work towards getting a STEM degree, but it would be all right at least for the moment. The key was survival. Everything he did for the time being had to be towards that goal.

So, yeah, Jimmy did what he had to do. He cleaned, he mopped, and the early-morning routine distracted him enough that, his current situation aside, things actually started to approach something in the ballpark of “normal.” But then everyone had run over to the TVs—or whatever they were called—and that was when the overall mood changed. Real talk for a second? Jimmy was starting to think the dragon was real. Like in Skyrim or some shit.

Honestly, it was wild. They had the news on, right? And it was like regular news, except they were talking like it was a video game. Talking about things like “level 70” and “mobs.” They were making it sound like this was some kind of MMO. God, Jimmy hoped so. If that was the case, it might even make sense why he was here. He was perpetually the top on any server of any game he played. It was amazing he managed to do well in his classes with how much time he spent gaming. And while he was probably just misunderstanding what he was hearing or seeing, he couldn’t help but hope that, as impossible as such a thing seemed, there really was a world out there that worked like an MMO. He would be so damn good at it. If that was the case, this would turn from a nightmare to a dream.

There’s no way that can be real, though. It ain’t possible.

It sure did seem real, though. They were even calling the fight with the dragon a “raid.” Actually, not to be a dick, but whoever their raid leaders were, they were bad. Like terrible. It was like they’d never done this before. What were they even doing? The mages clearly had the ability to cast AOEs. That much was obvious from the big, terrifyingly realistic explosions that came through the TV speakers. So what was going on here, then?

What they should have done was have the tanks aggro as many of those raptor-looking things as possible and try to clump them all together into a tight killbox. Then they could’ve had the mages spam AOEs on them all at the same time. Problem solved. Why in the hell were they trying to take them on in separate groups like that? These dudes were bad. It was actually disgusting to watch. He even started yelling at the TV with all the old people.

That one kid looked pretty good, though. And who was that chick jumping all over the dragon? When the cameras had zoomed in on her earlier, she kind of looked like that one girl who—

Jimmy gasped as something important came back to him: something he’d forgotten amid the shock of it all.

“If you find yourself lost and confused, tap your shoulder four times and read the note I left you.”

Did she mean that literally? Jimmy looked around. No one was paying attention to him. Even still, he went into the bathroom down at the other end of the inn, shut the door, flicked the light-switch, and then stared at himself in the mirror.

“This is dumb as hell,” he muttered, lifting his hand. “But whatever.” And with that, he gave himself four quick taps on his shoulder—causing absolutely nothing to happen. “Of course not,” he said, laughing at his own stupidity. Even still, for the sake of humoring himself, he decided to try the other shoulder instead.

Then he stopped laughing.