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Chapter 3

  With apprehension and fascination, Wes pulled up information through his screens about Cosmic Vending. The glowing text shimmered in his vision, unaffected by the flickering firelight or the darkness pressing in from all sides.

  
  Summons items found in vending machines across multiple worlds.

  Nature: Connects to a magical, cosmic lattice of vending machines, materializing items in a flash of prismatic light based on the summoner's mental image.

  Current level: 1. Vending machines available: Earth. Sol system>

  Wes exhaled sharply through his nose, watching the text shimmer in his vision. The words remained crisp despite the fire's flickering light. He flexed his fingers experimentally—no strange tingles, no sudden knowledge flooding his mind. Just those glowing letters hanging in the air like an afterimage.

  The surviving wolf-thing let out a wet, gurgling whine somewhere in the darkness. It seemed he’d either hit it again, or the wounds had been mortal. Wes snapped his attention back to the perimeter, pistol raised. No movement.

  He nodded, pleased it was dying. The body of the one he killed was still right outside the firelight.

  After Wes sat again, he scooted back into the shed for a little more security, then tried to figure out how to use this... Cosmic Vending.

  The feeling he knew what to do came to him after a while, as if he'd always known.

  With a bit of concentration, he focused and held out his hand, thinking about the overpriced, overhyped, generationally-required purified water in a bottle. His eyes wide, he saw it materialize in his hand almost immediately. “What the hell?” he muttered. It was, sure enough, even cold, and a brand name from earth. Wes felt a bit tired from the exercise, but not too bad. He pulled up his screens again, trying to figure out what actually "paid" for what he’d manifested. Even without feeling tired just now, he would guess there were limits. The screen shimmered with new text as Wes concentrated:

  
  1. Personal Energy (Fatigue accumulates with each use)

  2. Bodily Fluids (Blood, saliva—direct exchange via sacrifice or touch)

  3. Arcane Vending Tokens (Unlocks at Level 2)>

  Wes wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, considering. He had no idea what arcane tokens were, and bleeding into his palm seemed messy. Taking blood directly from his body seemed possible with this system too, but even freakier.

  He also read about the "Crossworld Cache" ability—a temporary, boutique vending machine once per level, at level up, that would physically manifest and allow anyone to choose an item in exchange for payment. That seemed useful, but not right now. Wes exhaled sharply and rubbed his temples. The glowing text remained stubbornly present no matter where he looked.

  The wounded wolf creature's labored breathing in the distance had stopped at some point. Only the crackling of the dung fire and the occasional whistle of wind through the shed's broken slats broke the silence now.

  Wes flexed his fingers. As he pursed his lips, he finally figured out how to dismiss his screens, and then sat in thought. The...energy he had, that he could pay for vending, he mentally wrapped his head around as an abstract concept of "payment energy." Maybe in this world it was mana, or something else, but for the time being, he'd just think of it as energy.

  If he had 100 units, then he'd used... Maybe... 6 of his total to manifest the water bottle.

  Wes started thinking about all the weird vending machines on earth. His situation was bizarre, and upsetting. He wanted to go home. So far, this world sucked, and that was before even considering all the people he’d left behind.

  At least this weird ability had promise.

  There was no way to tell why he was here, but when he started really pondering what kind of weird crap people put into vending machines, he half-grinned. The firelight flickered across Wes's face as he contemplated the possibilities. Japan had vending machines that sold everything from fresh eggs to umbrellas. Germany had ones that dispensed live bait. Somewhere in America, there was probably a machine stocked with survival gear—if he could just picture it clearly enough.

  This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

  Actually, he knew for a fact that there were survival gear vending machines. And ammo.

  He did another experiment, thinking about the hot food vending machines in Japan, and using Cosmic Vending to manifest one of them, concentrating, maybe...chicken teriyaki. The air above Wes's outstretched palm shimmered with prismatic light. A plastic-wrapped package materialized with a soft pop, warm against his fingers. He pulled the pull tab. In minutes, steam fogged the transparent film. Then he opened it, revealing neatly arranged rice and glistening chicken slices beneath.

  Wes exhaled sharply through his nose. The fatigue hit harder this time–this had cost more than the water. He peeled back the film all the way, the savory scent cutting through the dung fire's acrid tang.

  The packaging even had utensils. "Bless the Japanese engineers," he said out loud.

  As he ate his food, he figured that the teriyaki chicken had cost him...about 12 points. Maybe twice what a water cost. He still wasn't sure how points worked, or if he'd get them back, though.

  And he'd discovered a weakness to this power. When he'd been thinking about food, he hadn't known the brand of the food he wanted, but otherwise he'd known what he was looking for. There hadn't been a list, or a menu. So he had to be aware of something in a vending machine, or think of it fairly closely.

  He tried to think of something that wouldn't be in a vending machine. "How about...gift wrapped placenta." He hoped there wasn't anything weird and gross as that in a vending machine, but felt if there was, it wouldn't be more than he could "afford," and wouldn't kill him. Hopefully.

  Nothing happened.

  But then, feeling like he had to know, he thought of cars. Vending machines in some places vended cars, he’d seen internet posts about it. But when Wes thought of a car, thought of using his energy to pay for it, and tried using the ability, it was like he hit a wall. "Thank God I can't kill myself. Also, that was stupid." He felt a chill for what he'd almost done. Talking to himself seemed to be helping deal with his situation, but he vowed not to make a habit of it.

  Then, because it was the next thing high up on his list of needs, he tried summoning a box of 9mm bullets--nothing fancy, just a box of 50 FMJs.

  Even as the energy left him, he counted it as best he could while it left him. "About sixty energy," he said softly, voice strained.

  A box of ammunition materialized with a muted flash, landing heavily in Wes's palm. The cardboard edges were crisp, the printing sharp, in English—standard range-grade FMJs, just as he'd pictured. His head swam from the energy expenditure, a dull throb pulsing behind his temples. Sixty units felt accurate for the bullets. It was a steep cost, but necessary. He cracked open the box and began methodically reloading his spare magazine.

  With the spare mag loaded, he felt a lot more secure again. Even with a little pocket pistol, the shed provided a pretty good choke point. Twenty four rounds of 9mm loaded up was not insignificant.

  He counted how many points he had left--not a lot. Wes used most of his remaining points to summon two more bottles of water.

  Then he stood, slowly moving to the carcass of the creature he'd slain, both to look at it closer, and to attempt interfacing his new ability with it. The wolf-thing's corpse lay stiffening at the edge of the firelight, its matted fur glistening with congealed blood. Up close, the creature was even more monstrous, its elongated muzzle twisted in a final snarl, needle-like teeth exposed beneath peeling black lips. The hollow-point rounds had torn fist-sized exit wounds through its ribcage, leaving ragged cavities where vital organs should have been.

  Wes was just glad it was dead. He was not about to do an autopsy on the thing.

  Tentatively, Wesley rested his hand on the creature's flank, trying to figure out if he could do anything with Cosmic Vending or not. Nothing happened at first. Then he got a message.

  

  Wes chose yes, and almost instantly, a torrent of power ran into him. It was not his, but it also filled up the energy he'd lost...and then some. He instinctively understood that this was a...use it or lose it sort of situation. But he also could now intuit what Arcane Vending Tokens could be at level 2; probably a way to keep this sort of power without needing to immediately use it.

  The energy surged through Wes like an electric current, settling beneath his skin with a restless buzz. The wolf-thing's corpse withered slightly as the last of its essence was siphoned away, leaving behind only desiccated flesh and brittle bones.

  He stood, flexing his fingers—the fatigue from summoning had vanished entirely, replaced by a strange, thrumming vitality. His vision sharpened at the edges, colors momentarily more vivid in the firelight.

  "Weird," he murmured. Then he got to spending. The wolf-thing had given him a little over 300 energy. He ended up buying a cheap but decent backpack, something he knew some airports carried. Then he got camp fire fuel, a windscreen, a water purifier, a lighter, solar power bank, and a compact solar charger. After that, he was pretty much tapped out again.

  Wes quickly went to work, setting up the wind screen for the fire, pleased that what he’d acquired was specifically made to actually allow the light through, not block it. The flames stabilized behind the panels, their glow casting elongated shadows across the shed's interior.

  Wes adjusted the angle until the firelight spread evenly without flickering—no more risk of those creatures blowing it out. He checked the solar charger's specs under the firelight; a basic 30W foldable panel with USB outputs. Not enough to recharge his phone indefinitely, but better than nothing. However, the power pack, also solar chargeable, would help a lot, too. Feeling very pleased with himself, and still making a semi-conscious choice not to think too hard about his situation, why he was here, or what all of this could mean, and definitely not think about his family he might not ever see again, Wes curled up to sleep.

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