Herman paused to glance at Jon, who gestured for him to continue, then Herman tapped the sheet in front of him.

  “Name: Jon Walton

  Level: N/A

  Class: Null

  “The stats largely do what one might expect from the names,” Herman stated. He continued in his scripted tones from the beginning.

  “Power is analogous to the concept of strength. It represents the amount of energy that can be placed into movements like running, jumping, or energy-intensive activities such as spell-casting. Agility represents the finesse to wield said power, and is representative of your ability to coordinate fine movements or weave constructs of power. Discernment involves your perception and understanding of abilities and the world around you. Intelligence reflects your recollection and interpretation of events, facts, complex shapes, concepts, as well as your ability to apply such concepts to new information. Toughness reflects the ability to persevere and maintain energy output, as well as the ability to withstand damaging energies. Finally, presence speaks to your impact on others and their initial perception of you. Presence can also affect some forms of spell-casting and your resistance to other spells and effects.”

  Jon interrupted at this point,

  “I’m sorry, you just said spell-casting several times: does this world have magic?”

  Herman looked at him for a couple of long seconds before answering,

  “Were you hoping for a good scientific explanation for this place breaking the laws of physics to snatch you from across the universe to speak with a turtle-man?” He stared at Jon for a few more seconds, then continued,

  “I think I need to re-assess my initial evaluation. Let’s doc that intelligence score a point.”

  As Herman spoke, Jon noted the sheet dropped Intelligence from 7 to 6. Herman paused another moment, and Jon realized something:

  “You’re really taking the time to fuck with me after talking about how precious this time is?”

  Herman chortled a little turtle laugh, and the score returned to a 7.

  “Original assessment restored. We all need ways to get through the day, friend.“ He continued to chuckle at his own joke for some time before finally continuing,

  “To answer the earlier question, yes, there is magic. Your old views of the ‘laws’ of this universe are going to need to change. Try to remain flexible. Although your motivation to return home is a good thing, many people in this place find it helpful to think of their home-world as another life, as the differences are so extreme it might as well be. On the plus side, this stat sheet is a strong initial showing.”

  “How so?”

  “For most species, an average score from a given creature type is assigned a 5. Having one stat above the norm isn’t especially uncommon, but a +3 overall rating is a nice buff. This will become more clear after you leave this suite and begin integrating into the outside world. About 50% of a given creature type will score a 5. About 20% will score a 4, and a similar percentage will score a 6. Anything below a 3 or above a 7 is generally considered an outlier from the base species. 8 and 2 mark the boundary of extreme outliers. Any medium-size city on your planet would have had a few hundred people with your intelligence, but your entire home country had less than a hundred 8’s. The planet had one 9 at the time you departed.”

  “So these scores are based on my other life?” Jon asked.

  “Yes they are based on my assessment of your performance there, and the assessment of the tree. The tree provides a summary of what it considered critical to the assessment, and I am able to review brief portions of your memories from this summary,” Herman answered.

  He continued,

  “We don’t know exactly how much the tree itself knows about your life, or how it decides what is shown in the assessment. If you’re wondering, you got docked a point in dexterity based on how you dance. You look like a spider on bath-salts whenever music is playing. The tree also felt a montage of you running into walls and various inanimate objects was relevant, as well as multiple shots of you playing basketball with your college roommates.”

  “Tough but fair.” Jon gave a small self-deprecating smile. He wondered what the tree was: it seemed likely to be related to their location at the roots.

  Herman continued,

  “I like to think so. If we were to use a metaphor from the video game terminology in your world, you were clearly going about on easy mode. We generally continue that here.”

  “No karmic justice? None of these stats seem particularly earned.”

  Herman gave him a look which indicated he was risking the loss of his only 7, but answered the question seriously.

  “Was there anything you encountered, in that life or this one, which made you think any of this would be fair?” He paused, then waved a clawed hand dismissively.

  “Besides, you’ve become accustomed to a certain lifestyle,” he quipped. He stared a few seconds, then continued when he didn’t get a laugh.

  “Don’t get too confident. This is certainly a nice head start, but will quickly become irrelevant if you stagnate. Not all species end up with mostly 5s. The troglodytes, for example, are almost universally assigned a 1 for their intelligence rating. They are broadly considered to function at the level of an angry houseplant. Be careful in underestimating them, however, as they also receive at least an 8 in power. Note that ratings do not necessarily carry equal meaning when discussing different species. A lesser brainling with a score of 5 would make you look like a troglodyte.”

  Jon was about to seek clarification on this very confusing set of statements, when a gong rang out. Herman looked up, startled,

  “Less time than I thought, friend. We have to hurry, let’s move on to class selection. You have three options based on your base stats, my assessment of you, and that of the tree.”

  He pushed three white index cards across the table to Jon. Each had a class name written at the top with a brief description below. Each description was handwritten in neat, precise script. The second card appeared oddly hurried, with a smudge at the top over the class description.

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  Combat Medic

  A mix of front-line fighting capabilities and healing. The combat medic is a class focused on preventing its own and others’ immediate demise. Neither the best damage dealer nor the best healer, a Swiss army class useful in any party that fights on the front lines. +1 toughness on class selection, magic and adjacent abilities will draw from discernment for effectiveness. At least one melee special attack, one healing ability, and one positive aura buff offered.

  Spider-Bard Nerd

  The spider-bard Nerd is a competent melee combatant, and has the potential to become a dangerous offensive magic user. Unlike most bard classes, this class’s magic will primarily draw from intelligence, and may utilize some abilities traditionally associated with intelligence-based magic users. This class is is also capable of deadly ambushes and trap creation. +1 power, +1 intelligence, -1 presence with shift of 20 % towards dread aspect of presence on class selection. Initial abilities focus on poisonous strikes, psionic attacks, and remaining unseen. Additional stat bonuses may be unlocked after selection.

  Reaper’s Scythe

  A magic-based class focused on finishers. Effectiveness of all combat abilities grows as targets sustain damage. The undead flee the touch of the reaper’s scythe, but cannot escape inexorable doom on his arrival. Some minimal healing capabilities provided, with several melee and touch based spells for damage and debuffs offered on class selection. +1 toughness, +1 intelligence. Special attacks and spells draw from intelligence. Additional stat bonuses may be unlocked after selection, related to certain achievements.

  Jon looked over each description, internally grimacing. Even a trans-dimensional tree capable of spacial and temporal transport didn’t understand his job back on earth.

  Herman was studying him as Jon read over the descriptions.

  “At this time, I am to ask you if you know why you were offered these classes.”

  Jon looked up at the creature, incredulous,

  “Time is critical but we have time for ice breakers?”

  The turtle-man brushed off the question,

  “The why of things is important here. This has to do with your path, understanding the steps that placed you where you are today will help you understand the steps you need to take to progress. Are you willing to answer?”

  Jon let out a breath. No point in wasting what little time he was being given. He reluctantly decided to answer as best he could,

  “First one: I ran with an ambulance squad in college, and spent my first several years as a physician working emergency departments before I switched specialties. Either one could drive the class selection. I don’t know about the combat part, I was a wrestler in high school, but outside of matches and a few drunk people being dicks in college I never had any real fights in my life.”

  “At least partially explained. Next?”

  “Reaper’s scythe. I retrained as a palliative care physician, and I am now the medical director for a small hospice. You and/or the tree apparently think that translates to fighting the undead and snuffing out vulnerable people, which I’ve got to say is pretty rude. Unless those abilities are all about preventing agony in people’s final moments, they really don’t have anything to do with my time on Earth.”

  “There was a sentiment where you were from that the gods have a sense of humor. I think the tree likely does as well, though I agree this is in poor taste. I helped select the class. I cannot give you many details, but I can tell you that it is a powerful class from a well-regarded archetype.”

  Jon nodded in acknowledgment.

  “I have to admit I am not sure about the last one. I can’t think of anything tying me closely to bards or spiders. Well, aside from the riff on my dancing you made earlier. Dancing would also line up with my vision of a bard, and a nerd shouldn’t be a great or charismatic dancer. The dread part of the description is a little odd, I don’t know how to place that.”

  Herman stared at Jon. The silence drew on. It got very uncomfortable.

  “You cannot think of any reason? None at all?”

  “….No?”

  “Who was Zach Carrington?”

  Jon had to think for several seconds, and it was his turn to prolong the awkward pause:

  “My college freshman room-mate? He changed dorms after first semester, I got my own room for the second half of the year.”

  “What else do you remember? What might make him relevant?”

  Jon scratched his head. He honestly had no idea, other than that Zach was pretty into spiders. Jon had liked the guy fine, even with some odd quirks, but he wasn’t especially memorable. Jon was a little surprised he remembered the name at all. It had been almost twenty years.

  “I mean, we got along fine at first, but he was an odd duck for sure. He was super into spiders, which I guess is relevant. He had a kind of infectious enthusiasm for them, even got me to read a few books on them. He kept a jumping spider as a pet. He had a tarantula back home.”

  Jon thought a couple more seconds, then continued:

  “I think he wanted to bring the tarantula to the dorm but I vetoed that. He seemed cool with it, said it probably would be stressful for her anyway. The jumper didn’t bother me too much because it was small and Zach kept it out of sight.”

  Herman continued to stare at him. He arched one eyebrow, so Jon continued once more,

  “Listen, all I really remember is he went totally quiet a month before the end of the semester, and then I found out he transferred after we got back.”

  Herman finally blinked for what felt like the first time in an age, and he raised one clawed hand to his beard,

  “Hmmm. Well, I am not allowed to confirm or deny any specifics beyond what I already disclosed. However, I can tell you that sometimes when a person is associated with your class selection, it is not their relevance to you that matters. It is your relevance to them.”

  Herman shuffled a few papers on the desk, stuffing them back into the folder, then added a bit more:

  “I have my suspicions about the reason for the class offering. I do see that you had done some further reading on spiders and insects, but that seemed to apply to a potpourri of your planet’s life-based sciences. If anything I would have expected a plant-based class from your hobbies.”

  The turtle looked as though he had more to say, but a noise interrupted him.

  **DONG** **DONG**

  Herman looked up, nervous. If Jon was reading his turtle-face correctly, he looked a bit surprised as well.

  “I strongly suggest you make your choice. We are nearly out of time. There will be a brief window after selection for last questions, but if we wait any longer you run the risk of starting as a null class.”

  Jon quickly considered his options.

  Option 1, the combat medic, was out. He didn’t have a party, and he strongly suspected the class was meant for groups. Maybe some people came to this place together, or maybe the expectation was that he would find others quickly on leaving the class selection suite. Either way, it was not worth the risk. Finally, the class abilities seemed based on discernment, which was not playing to his strengths according to the rules of this world.

  Option 2 was a little bizarre, and he still didn’t know why the system offered him a spider-inspired bard class. Jon liked some of the class description. It would enhance intelligence, and play to his strongest stat, while increasing his power from good to excellent. The hit to presence was unfortunate, but it would only take him to the average level. Jon was happy with the idea of having flexibility for melee or ranged combat. He hoped the magic attacks were primarily at range given the absence of the touch description used when describing the Reaper’s Scythe. The possibility of ambushes and traps would allow him to weaken opponents before direct confrontations. It also suggested there may be a stealth component to the class. Having the option to avoid fights sounded like it might be very important. Finally, there was the possibility of additional stat bonuses to consider, which also sounded very powerful.

  Option 3, despite the somewhat insulting nature of its origin, was still a good option. The turtle-man was generally tight-lipped, yet he had given a blatant hint that this was a strong class. Jon knew that in many games ‘finishers’ were execution style attacks, and they could be very powerful. This new world felt very game-like, though it would be dangerous to give that too much weight. This class gave the best stat distribution initially with a net +2 vs spider-bard and combat medics +1. The spell casting ability was again intelligence. The ability to heal was also likely to be helpful with unclear access to other healing mechanics. Like the spider-bard nerd this one also hinted at additional stat bonuses after selection, though the qualifier seemed more vague. Further stat bonuses seemed related to future achievements of unknown difficulty.

  A translucent system window popped up in Jon’s view.

  “Would you like to make a class selection? Yes/No. Note: rejecting class selection will result in a null class, with only base racial abilities.”

  Jon looked at Herman through the window, and the turtle-man looked curiously back at Jon. He seemed invested in Jon’s decision. Despite his role in whatever organization had captured Jon, Herman seemed somewhat empathetic to his situation. Jon wondered how long he spent with each person he helped navigate this place.

  “Last question: you mentioned I should be careful with any future system prompts. Are there any hidden components to this prompt, or other information I should look for?”

  Herman looked like he was about to answer when the system window flashed. New text appeared below the old:

  “Initiation clerk Herman has been muted. Drop-down tab activated.”

  The window expanded, and further text was highlighted:

  “All choices are final, all changes are instant and permanent. Failure to make a class selection in 10 will result in class rejection and null class default being chosen.”

  “10 what” Jon wondered. Then he noticed the window change,

  “9.”

  “8.”

  He felt a brief moment of shock, then said “I choose spider-bard nerd.”

  Jon’s vision became very hazy. He wasn’t sure, but he thought he was sitting on the floor, as he had trouble seeing over the edge of the table. He also felt like he must be spinning: his peripheral vision was much broader than it should have been. He felt like he could almost see behind himself, though it was very blurry back there. Jon tried to stand. He could not.

  He could tell Herman was saying something. His hearing felt...odd. It was as though he was feeling the floor more than hearing words in the air. The sensation was like listening to someone shout underwater. Only the lower tones seemed to register. Jon backed up, seeing Herman over the edge of the table. Jon tried to blink to clear his eyes, but he couldn’t. His eyes wouldn’t look up or down, but when he moved his head the visual focus changed.

  Looking down, he saw….he saw….

  Claws. Way too many fucking claws.