Now Entering... Cleveland, Ohio

My world is a soft, bronze light. Like the sun is trying to punch its way through a sepia-toned photograph. Moments later it's all washed away by white—bright and surgical—and I wince, instinctively shielding my eyes even though I lack all physical presence. It's only when I think of my being that my other senses come alive. My fingers and toes tingle, I hear rushing air whipping past my ears, and I realize my eyes have actually been closed this entire time.

When I open them, eyes fluttering like I'm blinking away the last remnants of a deep sleep, I'm in a junkyard. Right. Steve's junkyard.

Rusting cars. Mountains of gutted appliances. The twisted metal corpses of a thousand random projects of a mad mind. It's dark out, but just barely—there's a soft haze on the horizon, like morning is testing the waters before committing. In the distance, the darkness of night is bleeding away in a lighter purple and red. A couple of birds chirp (the early risers).

I'm home.

Clyde and Veronica are here too. Veronica is limping, getting her bearings. Clyde is wheezing. Both of them have removed their armor. I'm shirtless, still in my jorts, and covered in a mix of blood, dirt, and slimy residue. I don't even want to imagine what I'd look like to some random bypasser. Needless to say, we've all seen better days. We look like absolute shit. And that's only the start. Mentally, I'm hanging on by a single licorice thread. I'm so damn tired.

Jelly Boy, on the other hand, seems to be doing well. He's sitting on the hood of a rusted-out Buick, jiggling proudly as his three vassals stand around him, looking about the junkyard in absolute awe.

That's when the notifications start streaming into my vision. A stack of System messages unrolls in my peripheral like a late night CVS receipt. I minimize them all with the casual nihilism of someone who can't afford a nervous breakdown right now. I'll read them all later.

"Can't believe we're alone now," I observe, looking around. "We've been gone forever."

Veronica, brushing leaves and other refuse from the other Realm out of her hair, frowns. "What do you mean?"

Clyde, who's decided it was best to sit on the ground for a moment, chimes in. "No Guilds waiting outside to mow us down like we're monsters from another world."

"Exactly!" I point at him like he just won a carnival prize. "Where's the mob? Where's the drama? We've been gone for days. How did a Gate like this stay unnoticed?"

I scan the yard. "Maybe Steve just didn't come by his junkyard at all," I mutter. Were we really that lucky?

Veronica shrugs, dragging her feet to the old Buick and plopping down on the hood next to Jelly Boy. "Maybe. I don't care. I just want my phone. There are at least five people who are going to yell at me and three more who are going to cry. Maybe both. I did not plan for being gone this long."

I swallow, a lump suddenly in my throat as waves of guilt and shame wash over me. I hadn't planned on being gone that long either. And now that the adrenaline is leaking out of my system like a tire with a nail in it, I'm suddenly very aware of how not okay my family must be. My sister. My dad. Oh god, Mom! She's likely had several absolute meltdowns.

Clyde, ever the pragmatist, hoists himself back to his feet and says, "Then we should get out of here. Not a bad idea while it's still kinda dark out." He eyes the slime trio surrounding Jelly Boy. "I'm guessing you don't want to explain them to the neighbors."

A small smile touches the corner of my mouth. "Slime smuggling operation. Just what I need. Another quest..."

"Reward: New roommates, times three," says Veronica.

We all laugh—hollow, tired, but real. It feels like we're ghosts come back from the war, blinking in disbelief at the idea of warm beds and working plumbing.

"Let's regroup tonight," Clyde adds. "After we all get some sleep. And maybe eat something that's not a System-generated cookie. It'd be good to debrief on… Everything."

I nod. "Yeah. Good idea."

Veronica is still leaning against the car, eyes closed. She gives a thumbs-up without opening her eyes. Jelly Boy gurgles. The slime trio salutes, nearly knocking each other over.

"One last thing before we go," I say. I scan the junkyard again and find what I'm looking for. With as much gusto as my body can muster, I scurry to Steve's outdoor shower. He said it was there for 'chemical emergencies.' Washing away blood and slime seemed to count. I step up to the outdoor shower head and press a nozzle, which starts the shower. The ice cold water washes over me. Blood and slime run down my body in rivulets. When the water stops, I'm wet and mostly blood and slime free. I swap out my equipment for my Earth clothes, though I'm still shirtless. Man, I'll miss that shirt.

We slowly scatter. Three half-dead humans. Four gelatinous anomalies.

The slimes—Jelly Boy and his jiggly entourage—trail after me like toddlers made of sentient fruit snacks. One of them tries to wedge itself through the passenger-side window. I sigh, pop the door, and usher it inside like a bouncer at a nightclub with very, very low standards.

Veronica waves from her driver's side window. Clyde gives me a grim nod as he opens his own car door.

I climb into my car, shut the door, and it's like the noise of the world cuts off with a thunk. Just me. And the gentle squelching of living goo in my back seat.

The moment I grab my phone from the center console, I'm immediately caught off guard by the mostly-green battery symbol in the top-right corner. Full charge. Huh.

That's when I notice the time and date.

5:23 a.m.

The morning after we had entered the Gate.

I blink, unlocking my phone and checking the time and date on my home screen. It's the same. Is my phone gaslighting me? Because that can't be right.

We spent days in that Gate.

And somehow, it's only been several hours?

I throw my door open, climb out, and see Clyde already outside his car with the same what-the-actual-fuck look on his face. Veronica appears from behind her now-open car door, phone in hand, blinking like she just discovered her bank account spontaneously replenished.

"It's only been a few hours," I say, voice flat.

"That seems to explain why there isn't a whole city guild operation in this junkyard right now…" Clyde mutters.

Veronica crosses her arms. "This is an absolute mindfuck." She sighs. "But I'm sort of relieved?... And also too tired to care right now."

We all stand there for a second, absorbing the sheer surrealism of it. It should be impossible. But we all silently agree: we'll unpack that terrifying mystery later.

Right now? Right now the only thing on my mind is an actual shower and my bed.

Jelly Boy flops into the passenger seat with a pleased blorp. The other slimes ooze into the back like giddy, obedient dogs. I just shrug and wave goodbye to the others. I grab my keys from where I left them and start my car. I spare a glance in the rearview mirror as I pull away from Steve's junkyard. My eyes are still glowing with the electric blue remnants of power.

I drive home with the windows cracked because someone in the back smells like dying battery acid. "Do slimes take baths?" I ask. One of the trio—Jax, maybe—responds with a high-pitched buzz. I take it as a 'no.'

It's still pre-dawn when I pull into the driveway. My house looks quiet. Innocent. Like a goddamn paradise! I turn off my car and have Jelly Boy slip into one of my spare gym bags before instructing the others to follow me as silently as possible.

I open the side door with the stealth of a suburban ninja. The floorboards squeak like they're being tortured. I freeze. Wait. Nothing. I tiptoe to the basement. I can't help but feel a little ridiculous. Like I'm a high schooler sneaking a girlfriend into my parent's house after curfew. Down the stairs we go. Into my room. Mission accomplished.

The slimes all plop onto the carpet like exhausted jellybeans.

I shut the door behind me, lock it, and lean back against it for a moment. "Okay… You all stay here. Jelly Boy—make sure they stay out of trouble. You know my passwords. Feel free to throw on some T.V. for them."

Jelly Boy gurgles excitedly.

After a quick shower, I'm back in my room, door locked behind me again to avoid anyone unexpectedly barging in on a room full of sentient slimes.

I collapse onto my bed, face-first, arms spread. Jelly Boy plops up beside me, curling like a cat made of half-set Jell-O.

I could sleep for a week.

But first, the System notifications.

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

I blink and swipe—and the screen fills with text, like a digital deluge:

SYSTEM-INITIATED QUEST ASSESSMENT COMPLETE (Beyond the Bronze Horizon)!

Grade: A-1 (Excellent)

Additional rewards granted. No penalties assessed.

Level 17 increased to Level 18!

Level 18 increased to Level 19!

[4 Stat Points currently unallocated. Assign Stat Points?]

A two level jump! It makes sense considering the final battle against the band of elves. I decide to figure out my Stat Point assignment after getting some rest.

The next notification is accompanied by a soft, disembodied voice, which catches me off guard as the words unfurl across my vision.

CONGRATULATIONS, PARTICIPANT!

You have successfully completed Stage One: Tutorial – Class Selection!

System access has been sustained.

Further instructions will be provided upon commencement of Stage Two of the Games. May Creation watch over all Participants and bring them success!

The Game. Or, the Contest, as the people of Dead World #43 called it.

I blink away the last of the notifications screens and lay there, the faint noise of some reality television show in the background, and stare at the ceiling of my room. Thoughts about this Game swirl in my mind. By the time I finally doze off, my last thoughts are of snakes creeping up a staff, and a trickster's smile.

I wake up with the sensation of being buried alive in warm blankets and stale air. There's a weird pressure on my chest, like something fell asleep on me—and when I groggily open my eyes, I'm greeted by Jelly Boy's semi-transparent ass squelched halfway across my torso. He turns and meets my gaze with his two large puppy-dog eyes.

"Buddy. I'm not a pillow...!"

He burbles in protest and oozes off me like a melting marshmallow. My body aches in places I didn't even know I had nerve endings. I don't think I've ever been so stiff. My stomach is a hollow, vengeful demon. And my mouth tastes like I gargled an old sock filled with ash. Oh man, how have I gone this long without a toothbrush?

Phone. Where's my—ah.

I dig it out from under the pillow, thumb it awake. I'm greeted by several missed text messages.

'Team Work Make the Dream Work'

>Clyde: Still alive. Don't feel like it. You guys good?

(Message liked by Veronica)

>Clyde: Where should we meet tonight?

>Veronica: I need to head to Ohio City later. Maybe somewhere near there?

(Message liked by Clyde)

>Clyde: Pinheads?

>Veronica: Really?

>Clyde: I like to have something to do while I drink and talk. Bowling.

>Veronica: LOL. K.

>Veronica: 8?

(Message liked by Clyde)

>Clyde: Joe?

>Veronica: Joe you better not flake!

Joe shot back a quick thumbs up emoji.

Pinheads it is. Home of duckpin bowling and bartenders who dress like they're about to change your oil. I check my phone: still a couple more hours before I need to leave. I can't believe I just slept through most of the day. I let my head drop back into my pillow and close my eyes for another hour, though I don't sleep this time. Just think. I had dreamt of the dragon fight again. Of the mother Storm Dragon swooping down. Of the paralyzing fear I had felt in that moment. Of the Cardinal Hand appearing.

"Okay, Joe, time to get moving," I groan.

I roll off the bed with all the grace of a tranquilized cow. The slimes are still gathered around my laptop, their jelly bodies reflecting the screen's soft blue glow. I glance at what they're currently watching. Another reality-styled game show. I don't recognize this one.

I stretch, bones cracking like bubble wrap. "Alright, I'm heading out. Meeting up with Clyde and Veronica. Think you can hang back and keep an eye on the Three Stooges for me?"

Jelly Boy raises a pseudopod and salutes with a patriotic-styled blorp.

"Good slime."

I dig through the pile of clothes on my floor before settling on jeans, a hoodie, and beat up pair of chunky dad sneakers. As I lace up, the System pings in the back of my mind like a helpful brain parasite.

[4 Stat Points currently unallocated. Assign Stat Points?]

Yeah, why not. Let's get buff.

I drop one point into Strength. Another into Constitution. The final two I allocate to Willpower. I realize the importance now of balancing some of my focus into Willpower, unless I want to be rendered useless every time I failed a Willpower resist check after being hit by a disabling spell.

I head out, promise the slimes I'll be back by midnight, and make the drive to Pinheads with the windows down and my thoughts scrambling to make sense of the last few days (at least in other-World time).

I find an open parking spot on the street and enter Pinheads, instantly greeted by the boom-clack of the various small bowling lanes throughout the large space. I look for Clyde and Veronica. I spot them tucked away in the back, occupying a lane tucked into the far corner. Both are dressed in casual street clothes. Veronica is mid-throw, tiny ball whizzing down the lane with surprising speed. It takes out six pins.

I grab a beer and a water from the bar and approach them with a head nod, sliding onto the cushioned seats.

Veronica sees me and grins. "Hey. We already ordered food. You're welcome."

"What kind of food?" I ask.

"All of it," Clyde says.

My stomach makes a noise that can only be described as primordial appreciation. I take a long drink of water, then a sip of the beer. The tension in my spine unspools like an old cassette. "Sounds great," I say, placing my glasses onto the short table in front of me.

Eventually, we settle in, drinks in hand, duckpins forgotten, and baskets of fried food covering practically every surface of the table. Veronica's halfway through a greasy basket of onion rings, Clyde's occasionally taking bites of a burger between sips of rye whiskey, and I'm telling the story of my dramatic rescue mission.

The two occasionally stop me to ask a question or two, but they largely listen until I reach the point where they re-entered consciousness.

Clyde squints. "Sounds like you were saved by some R-N-G shenanigans with that 'Dismember' Ability of yours."

"I'm not the most experienced battle tactician," Veronica adds, "but why did you hesitate to attack them when you had the advantage. Clearly not the moment for diplomatic negotiations. Glad it all worked out in the end, but seems like a stupidly risky move."

I feel my cheeks burn with embarrassment and scratch the back of my head. I take another sip of my beer before responding. "I… Er, I'm not entirely sure. I was pissed. Like really pissed. Probably wanted nothing more than to hurt them. Especially I saw the state you guys were in. But then I looked up… And met the guys eyes. I recognized the look there, ya know? He was afraid. I think I saw a part of myself in that. Made it all too human. If we came to blows, there was a chance it would need to escalate to killing. Not sure I had it in me…"

"I would have shot and asked questions later," Clyde says. "And if there are consequences, just hope I never need to return to that Realm ever again."

Veronica is frowning. She glances at Clyde, but doesn't say anything. She opts for another bite of an onion ring.

"And when you were at the Nest. You grabbed our weapons, right?" Clyde asks. "I lost mine when we were ambushed by those assholes."

"Same," Veronica adds. "Dropped my hammer at some point… Guess things don't conveniently reappear in your Inventory."

I pause mid-bite.

"Uh… about that."

Clyde's eyes narrow behind his sunglasses. "You forgot."

"Look, I was busy… I had more important priorities!"

Clyde groans and flops back against the booth like I just told him his dog ran away. "Dammit. Now I've gotta replace it before the assessment."

I arch an eyebrow. "Assessment?"

He rolls his head toward me like I'm the slow kid in class. "Guild assessment. Now that I've got a Class, I'm eligible for a good position in most Guilds. If I pass, I get a contract. A real one. With pay, benefits, and maybe even hazard bonuses."

"Better than extraction duty as a temp worker," Veronica adds.

"Right, but…" I trail off. "How do you explain that? Like, hey, I just happened to receive a Class. No need to ask questions about illegally accessing Gates."

Veronica shrugs, licking salt off her fingers. "Technically it's illegal. Gating without registration, especially unsupervised. But most Guilds don't care. We're still in the early days of all these laws being sorted out, frankly. Enforcement's been lax and probably will be for some time. As long as you're not a full-blown rogue hopper, they'll look the other way."

"Which we're not," Clyde adds quickly. "Mostly."

I nod slowly, filing that one away. Good to know what we've done was only mildly illegal.

"Well," I say, reaching into my Inventory, "maybe you can get some close-quarters practice in first. I haven't even gotten to the best part."

I pull out two daggers I looted from the rogue elf: Succubus Fang and Glass Phantom.

Veronica's eyes widen. Clyde's grin returns, all teeth and trouble.

"I looted the elves before getting the hell out of there," I say, presenting the daggers.

"These are… sick," he breathes. "Legendary quality?"

"I got a new wizard hat from the one elf, so I thought I'd give you guys these. Equal share of the loot," I say.

"Any preference?" Veronica asks, peeling her eyes away from Succubus Fang to look at Clyde.

"Unless you care, I think I'll take Glass Phantom."

Veronica smiles, pulling the dagger in her hand into her Inventory. It disappears in a flash of pixelated light. Clyde does the same.

"Thanks, Joe," Veronica says.

"Yeah, man, thanks," says Clyde. He then leans back and exhales. "So. What's next for you guys?"

Veronica shrugs. "No clue. A Guild assessment sounds interesting, but I haven't given it much thought. I suppose there's always picking back up with law school…"

They both look at me. I blink.

What am I going to do?

I'm still thinking about the Game… The Contest. Sloth's words echo in my mind. 'You're not ready yet…The Contest has only just started.'

I lift my beer and shrug. "Might do a few more extraction jobs. Just while I figure things out." Lame. I know it's lame.

But the truth is? I've got three slimes in my basement, a jelly president with Real Housewives obsessions, and a sneaking suspicion they won't remain so quiet for too much longer.

We cash out just after 11 p.m., all of us a little drunk and stuffed full of greasy carbs. We step out into the street, which is empty and dark. It's got that late-Spring humidity to it, where the air's too thick.

I pause before we all part ways.

"Wait," I say. "One more thing."

Clyde raises an eyebrow. Veronica looks up from her phone.

"I got a reward chest from saving you guys," I say, mentally opening my System menu and scrolling through to find my Legendary chest.

I tap Open.

A white ripple tears through the air in front of me, silent and shimmering like God's own vending machine opening up. A sphere, about the size of my palm, of the same bright white light drifts out.

You have received: UNIQUE ITEM – Personal Wizard's Staff!

[Note: This is a custom item. This item will shape itself based on the personality and essence of its first user to Claim it.]

Claim?

I mentally select 'Yes' as I reach out and grab the glowing orb of light. The rip in reality instantly closes and the orb bursts in my grasp with a spray of particle effects that would give an epileptic pause. Light erupts from the orb like growing branches, twisting, stretching, humming with arcane energy. It expands into a long pole in my hand, until the ends begin to expand. The weapon begins to have weight. It's heavier than I expected.

As the light fades, I'm excited to behold what kind of Legendary staff I received.

Instead, what I'm suddenly holding is a full-blown barbell. A six-foot length of reinforced black steel, with silver runes running along the bar and the two, thicker sleeves on each end that hum with magic.

Item: Full Metal Staff (Legendary Weapon)

[Description: This staff is crafted from enchanted black iron. When attuned to this staff, its wielder obtains access to the 'Pumping Iron' Skill.]

Physical Damage: +25

Magical Damage: +40

Willpower: +10

Clyde stares at me. Blinks once. "You've got to be kidding."

Veronica doubles over laughing. "Your Legendary weapon is gym equipment!"

I lift the thing. The weight is what I'd expect holding a barbell. The distribution is awkward, and this would be very difficult if it wasn't for my System-enhanced Strength.

I awkwardly clear my throat. "No. It's a staff," I say defensively. "Just… personalized."

"To what?" Clyde asks. "Your deadlift PR?"

I scowl, then grin, and twirl the thing once. It's not a graceful motion.

Clyde claps me on the back. "Congrats, bro."

"You're now the High Priest of Swoledom," Veronica says, still wheezing.

I sigh. "I hate both of you."

We laugh. A good, real laugh. Then we break apart. They head for their cars, tossing waves and half-meant goodbyes. I'm left standing alone in the middle of the street, with an enchanted barbell in my hands.

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