Dying isn't fun; it's a total surprise, but you know what's even less fun?
To die and end up where I am—and where am I, you ask? The truth is, I'm in no place I recognize or that resembles any resting place for the dead recognized by any religion or culture.
It's an infinite void of darkness in which there is nothing in any direction; I see nothing but darkness, I hear nothing, and I feel no part of my body; I don't even know if I'm speaking aloud right now or just answering myself in my head.
One might wonder how I ended up here, and the truth is I don't know.
In fact, the suspicions surrounding my death are nothing more than a theory, since, to be honest, I don't remember anything that could have caused it.
I wasn't run over by a truck, I didn't die in an alley from a stab wound, I didn't die heroically saving someone; instead, I remember dying.
I don't even remember parts of my life. I know I had parents, a sister too, friends (there's always plenty of those), and I think a girlfriend—maybe even two. Honestly, I'm not sure about that last part, but I don't remember her face, nor do I remember her name.
Yes, I remember their voices and what they said each time they spoke to me; I must also say that their voices sounded as if there was an echo in the room, making it difficult at times to recall who was speaking; I can't even distinguish the voices; I didn't know if they were male or female.
That's very strange; I don't think I've been here long enough to forget something like that. Maybe it's this place that made me forget about them, because I do remember going to school, going to the park, partying, driving my car on the highway, and watching anime, TV shows, movies, and playing video games.
I wasn't a weird person either; I had a normal life, a basic education, a simple job moving food in a warehouse, a furnished house in a good neighborhood that any single guy would envy, my hobbies, a decent car, and everything a middle-class person could aspire to without having to do anything extreme; in fact, I had a full life.
Oh, I still haven't told you my name—sorry, infinite void; I didn't know you'd be offended by that. I think I have a bit of a right to be angry, since you've taken away my life and everything I fought for. Thanks for that; you've given me a renewed appreciation for how pointless everything is. Oh, by the way, it's sarcasm. Well, my name is.
¡Timbre!
Congratulations, Markus Calder, you have won the Chaos Gacha system thanks to a multiversal lottery. You have been the winner among all beings in the multiverse.
Congratulations!!
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.
.
What?
Wait, chaos gacha, what's that? Is this a joke or something? I don't understand, I'm not dead.
I couldn't help but wonder what the hell was going on until the same blue box in front of my head changed to another, flickered, and disappeared, only for another to appear immediately, playing the same sound as before.
¡Timbre!
Because the system user is currently in the cosmic void of nonexistence, transmigration has been designated as the only way for the user to use the Chaos Gacha and their three initial gold-tier pulls. Please note that you will end up in a random world from among all those in the multiverse. Remember to enjoy your adventure with the Chaos Gacha.
Wait!
I couldn't scream for an explanation anymore, because out of absolutely nowhere, a white light began to engulf everything that had been darkness, and it also started to surround me. I won't deny it, I got a little scared and started screaming, mostly because they'd just thrown the mother of all flashbangs right into my eyes before I could even close them.
(-------------------------------------------------------)
When the white light faded from my vision and I could stop screaming in pain from the flashbang they'd just thrown at me, I realized I had eyes again; not just eyes, my hands were back too, and with them my entire body. I started touching every part of my body like a lunatic or someone who can't find their phone. I must say that being able to feel SOMETHING again was cathartic; without a doubt, having my five senses back at full capacity is the best thing that's happened to me so far.
Luckily, I was wearing clothes; I didn't know if I'd had them on before ending up in that abyss, but I had on jeans and a white long-sleeved T-shirt, slightly worn sneakers, and a brown windbreaker; I looked like a runner.
Did a car hit me in the end?
No, I'm not dead, I'm alive, fuck, and how good it all feels—seeing the alley full of trash and vomit stains I just stumbled into, breathing the air thick with shit and decay that would give a skunk a heart attack, feeling my hands go numb in the city's freezing nite air, and hearing the distant gunshots that I'm sure came from a high-caliber firearm.
Yes, without a doubt, living is the best thing right now.
Where the hell am I, and those are gunshots! I'm in a war zone, so why can't I end up in a five-star hotel bed? That's asking for too much.
¡Timbre!
Transmigration complete; have a good life in your new world.
3 random gacha tickets
The blue screen reappeared in front of me this time when I finished reading it. In my right hand, the three golden tickets appeared as if by magic. I noticed that the word "RANDOM" was written on them in capital letters. I stood there for a moment, staring at them, more out of surprise that they'd appeared out of nowhere.
"Well, what do I do with this stuff now?" I have to say, it's surprisingly strange and new to hear my voice again.
Ding!
To use the tickets, just think about using them on the Chaos Gacha roulette.
When I finished reading the text, I turned my gaze to the now-open hand holding them.
Thinking about using them, well, it doesn't have to be that hard.
I closed my eyes and thot about trying to shove them into the slot of a casino machine. The very instant I thot that, I noticed my hand was lighter than before; I opened my eyes to see that they were no longer in my possession. Along with the sensation of disappearing, I heard the sound of a casino slot machine starting to spin in my head, accompanied by light elevator music.
Doorbell
[Expert interpretation]
|Rare talent|
You're a great performer. You can play every musical instrument well enough to impress most people, and you're also a very good singer—good enough to captivate listeners with your melodies—and you have a special talent for wowing audiences. Of course, you know how to put on a show. You would have a very successful career as an artist.
The amount of music-related information that suddenly flooded my head was enough to almost make me stumble; the number of instruments and symphonies I could play on them was frankly infinite, and now I can really sing—not like when you're in the shower with Spotify playing in the background, just so you don't mess up the lyrics of your favorite song while you wash.
Damn, I could be Beethoven (not the dog) with this.
¡Timbre!
[Basilisk]
|Uncommon relative|
A large reptile with six limbs and supernatural strength, immune to conventional weapons and as strong as ten men. Basilisks have gazes and venom that can turn targets to stone; the stronger a target is, the harder it is to petrify. Basilisks can reproduce asexually, at least this one can.
What?
I could feel something connecting to my brain, like a cable linking two points. It was something huge, and when I say huge, I'm not kidding—it was the size of a rhino, with scales all over its body, teeth as sharp as blades and bigger than my entire arm, and traces of a viscous liquid. The monster's six legs were large enough to crush a person's head without any difficulty; it was fat, so it was slow, but even I could see its muscles at a glance. Its back had bony protrusions sticking out of it; now that I look at it more closely, it resembles a very small Godzilla mixed with a toad and an iguana. But the most terrifying thing wasn't its physical appearance—it was its eyes. They were blue, almost like brilliant jewels rather than eyes, and they emanated an almost ghostly blue light that made me tremble a little.
The monster was looking at me; I didn't know how—it wasn't here with me in the alley; it was somewhere else, some kind of dimension where familiars go to wait for me to summon them into the real world. I also sensed his eagerness to get out of there, which I would prevent for now; I didn't want anyone to be petrified for life because of me. I had to tell him to wait thru the mental link that bound us; I could feel his response—an acceptance—but also that, while he understood I couldn't get him out now, the sooner I did, the better; he didn't like being alone. That, as strange as it sounds, made my heart ache a little; it sounded like a dog being scolded for something it hadn't done.
¡Timbre!
[Frost Flare]
| Elite skill |
Calamity Mod: It allows you to cast and control incredibly powerful and potent frost flames, flames that freeze instead of burn. While using Blazes, you gain incredible resistance to ice and cold in exchange for being vulnerable to fire.
The information on how to use my power flooded my brain, leaving me with another headache—this time lighter than the last, but more lethal. Literally, I'm so cold that I burn everything my flame touches, like the alien from Ben 10. God, how I miss the show; I really liked Big Chill, or Frío as you guys wanted him to be called, so having one of his powers, even if it's not exactly the same, fills me with excitement. Also, it's from Terraria; remember to play the game. Don't play the Calamity Mod too much; it makes me wonder about more things. Are there more gaming-related items in Chaos Gacha? Please, I'll give you ten cents if there's any way to get Kratos's swords or Dante's pistols.
Wait, focus, Markus: first, where am I and what date is it; and second, get out of here as soon as possible. I didn't like the fact that I'd stopped hearing the gunfire in the distance, not one bit; it only meant two things: first, whatever the shooter had been aiming at had already fallen, or second, something had happened to the guy with the gun—something I frankly had no interest in finding out.
Spinning on my heels, I approached the entrance of the alley I was in; the light here was so dim that you could barely see anything inside, so the only way out was thru the entrance itself. I moved toward the light of the streetlights cast on the street.
When I left the place, I could see that the alley was cleaner than the street I was on; the filth filled the air with the stench of garbage and stale food. The road separating the two sides of the neighborhood was cracked and stained with patches of a nauseating odor; there were shards of glass on the ground, presumably from the shattered or shuttered shops in the area, and only a few streetlights were working; their light was the only thing that didn't add to the apocalyptic atmosphere.
What place is this? It's a war zone; everything is destroyed and deteriorated to the point that it looks like a ghost town. Come on, this can't be Gotham, right? I couldn't have ended up in a comic book. I remember that transmigration can take you anywhere, but I couldn't have been this unlucky. The other option is that it's Silent Hill or Raccoon City, which I don't think it is, since the street is literally empty—no people, no nightmarish monsters, and not a single zombie—so those are ruled out.
Wherever I am, it's best to find shelter somewhere to spend the nite; it would help warm my cold hands and shake off the feeling that something bad is about to happen at any moment.
I walked down the street, following the light of the streetlights, my only companions, hoping that whatever those gunshots had been wouldn't come looking for me or cross my path.
I know I'm not alone in this city; I can see the lights in the windows of some apartment buildings, which tells me there's life here. This is Gotham, right? Please, I don't want to run into a villain or criminal on my first day here.
You can see some cars in good condition and others wrecked; as I passed by, I also heard sirens in the streets—they sounded like air raid warning systems, damn it—and there are phone booths on the street too; it's a shame they're all smashed.
He also didn't have any money to make a call; he didn't have any of the three big things a man takes with him when he leaves home: a wallet, house keys, and a cell phone.
I didn't like anything I was seeing. What the fuck was going on here? Was this 1984, the book, or was it a New Vegas–style Fallout? Did an apocalypse happen and I ended up in the only city where people survived after Judgment Day? Fuck, I'm going crazy here. There were some graffiti on the walls that kept repeating: a stylized, somewhat crude capital M—too rough to be the logo of any gang; it's not the first time I've seen a gang mark its territory like that.
The farther I got from where I'd appeared in that shit-filled alley, the more alive the place seemed, with more lights on in houses and working streetlights along the path I followed, until I heard it: the sea. The waves crashing against the shore were unmistakable to someone like me, who had lived in a coastal city all my life. I followed the sound until I reached a small overlook with a view of the sea, and there, before me, was a pier lined with boats beached on a nearby shore. The water was black. Like gasoline with some brown patches of what I'm sure was trash floating on it, the pier wasn't any better; from a distance it looked abandoned. It had lights, and I think I saw some nighttime security guards from here, but everything seemed almost obsolete, like everything else I'd seen since I arrived.
My gaze wandered across the lit areas, trying to make out something familiar so I'd at least know which city I was in. I could see some skyscrapers in what I assume is the city center; one had a logo I couldn't make out from here, an abandoned train yard—the area where I'd appeared—and an American-style suburban development on the other side of the bay, including a waterfront promenade that was the most brightly lit area. It seemed that wherever I was, it was the U.S.
Then I saw it in the middle of the sea, very close to the shore: an oil rig. I could see the lights it emitted reflected in the water; it was covered by a dome that served as a kind of energy shield, and it had a giant rainbow bridge connecting it to the shore.
I couldn't help but blink several times at what I saw; it looked like something out of a comic book, stood out so much compared to everyone else, and was pure science fiction. I had no doubt that wherever I was, it was the U.S.; one of the flags waving on that building and another on the boardwalk reinforced the theory.
Look, think about it, Markus: a coastal city with a place like that—there's only one you know, and the thot of it being that one just makes my stomach churn.
It can't be true, I couldn't have ended up in Worm.
¡Timbre!
Discover the world he's ended up in. Welcome to Brockton Bay.
A bronze coin
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No.
NO
NO
Not here, for God's sake.
I gripped the railing of the lookout tightly, and a feeling of helplessness washed over me.
No, no, no, it can't be, not here, fuck, any other city or world was a hundred times better than this shitty place.
Just thinking about half the problems this world has gives me a headache: the parahumans who get powers from a triggering event (trauma), the criminal gangs in the city like the Empire 88 or the ABB, who are Nazis and sex slavers, the Endbringers—the trio of city-destroyers certified by their casualty counts and the desolation they leave behind—and, fuck, Scion, the fucking Scion, a low-tier Lovecraftian god who wanders the world rescuing kittens, but whose real plan is to kill us all.
I'm going to die, right? What other option do I have beside joining a gang or the PRT?
I couldn't help it; I leaned against the railing, seriously considering whether to jump to spare myself the suffering of being here—not just because of the city and its current problems, which were, on a grand scale, rather insignificant. I don't know where I am in the canon, but it's safe to say that before Levi thot it was fun to play at building sandcastles in this city, the thot of that thing coming here was terrifying.
I sat on the floor with my back to the railing; my legs were trembling from the stress. What's happening? A full-blown panic attack, great—the last thing I needed right now was to actually feel like killing myself, fuck, I'm starting to cry.
When I went to wipe away the tears that were starting to well up in my eyes, I felt something rough brush against my cheek; it was the bronze ticket. I stared at it for a few seconds like an idiot.
.
.
.
THE GACHA.
That's the key—it's my chance to survive here, to WIN, to keep anyone from killing me or making me do what they say. I'm not going to throw my life away killing people for someone like Lung or Kaiser, and there's no way in hell I'm going to pretend to be a hero just so the Protectorate can then do jack shit for this city.
And then there's Caldero, the group of enlightened ones who know about the shit that's eating away at this world and will do ANYTHING to carry out their objectives. Letting this city exist is one example; they call it Project Terminus, but it's nothing but a load of crap—them and their planes, which only managed to cause more suffering to everyone across countless lands.
No, I will survive.
¡RING!
Rekindle your conviction to survive in a world destined to die, knowing everything that is yet to come.
A silver coin.
I didn't hesitate, and when the other ticket appeared, I threw both into the mental gacha.
Ding!
[Dry]
|Trash Ability|
It allows you to dry any object that is in contact; keep in mind that it doesn't evaporate all the water particles inside, but only removes the moisture the object shouldn't have.
Another useless skill, but it was a bronze ticket; it was inferior to the previous ones, so I got a lower reward.
The interesting thing about this new ability was that I felt it somewhere in my mind, waiting to be swapped in for the other ability I had active; Frost Call would stay for now. It was much more useful than the new one, and beside, I can only have one active at a time.
Ding!
[Efficient physicist]
|Uncommon trait|
Your body is incredibly efficient; you can naturally digest and obtain more energy by breathing, eating, and sleeping. Additionally, the skills you use require slightly less energy.
The physical change wasn't extreme; it happened internally. I felt full of energy; no, that energy was already there, it was part of me, a blend of all my physical characteristics up to that point, formed into a kind of sphere the size of a basketball that I noticed somewhere inside me.
I decided to try out this energy a bit; from what I understood, it was a battery that powered my abilities, so I created a small cryo-fire flame in my hand.
I felt the battery draining very, very, very slowly, almost imperceptibly; based on how it felt and comparing it to the data drain from this offensive ability, I could keep the flame going for almost twenty minutes without a break—that was five minutes longer than before.
I smiled; I had a chance to live, and I wasn't going to throw it away.
I got up off the floor feeling better than before; I had to find a place to sleep. It was still nite, but I didn't know what time it was, so tomorrow morning I'd do something to find out what day it was.
Twenty minutes later I found a furniture store with some boards nailed up to keep anyone from entering; I just had to yank one of the boards off to get inside.
It was almost empty; there was nothing of value in plain sight. The cash registers were all open and empty, and there was hardly any furniture in good condition—what remained was broken. I moved thru the store, looking for something to sleep on, and found it: a sofa that wasn't as dirty as you'd expect in a place like this, with one of its legs replaced by something resembling a chair leg I'd seen farther back. I thot it belonged to someone when I found it, but there was no sign of anyone nearby. I walked past the sofa; there had to be something of value here beside it, and I found it: a metal door to the warehouse that was locked, and a wooden door to the break room. I didn't care; I'd force them open.
I didn't hesitate and got my pet out. The basilisk appeared in a sudden, dim glow, looked at me expectantly, waiting for me to give it an order; I immediately covered my eyes with my hand to avoid its petrifying gaze.
"Hey, you understand what I'm saying, right?" I wouldn't risk turning to stone; I don't know if I'm immune, or if I'm her master.
He let out a small, low growl that I interpreted in my mind as a yes.
"You can turn off your petrifying gaze and, if you can, do it, and then knock down that door." I pointed at it with my hand and stepped back a bit; I didn't want it to hit me with it.
A hiss like a snake, which I took as another "yes" in my head.
I uncovered my eyes; the poor thing barely fit inside the tent; its tail was tucked in so it wouldn't bump into anything, and I could finally see its eyes: the sclera was black and the iris resembled those of an alligator. I approached the alligator gar, raising my hands one after the other.
"Relax, kid, well, I just want to pet you a little." He won't hurt me, I know, but I can't help being afraid of the big lizard.
When my hand touched its rock-hard scales, I could feel the warmth of its breath, the rise and fall of its belly as it breathed, and how it relaxed at my touch. I spent a few seconds just watching her until I decided to try something else: scratching her chin.
The result was like a dog, and its tail began to move in a compass-like arc, while one of its six legs also started scratching the back of its eyes; I began to laugh at how surreal the scene was.
"Who's a good boy, huh? Who is? You are, my little Godzilla." I stayed like that for a few minutes until a gust of cold air from the street snapped me back to reality. I have to go to sleep now.
"Look, kid, I want you to knock down that door." He gave a slight nod and moved toward the door, headbutted it, pushed it open, and sent it crashing to the floor; that was easy.
"Good boy… or girl, really, what gender are you?" This time, her answer came to me in my mind; she was female.
"Well, the job's done. I'm going to take you back to the family area; there's no problem, right?" I nodded again in my head, so I wished he'd leave, and he did, just like before. I went into the warehouse and noticed the change in temperature; it was damp, the reason being some leaks in . I looked to see if there was anything of value, a set of keys, and nothing useful beyond the old, wet furniture.
Disappointed, I left the warehouse thru the other door; I tried the keys; there were eight in total, and on the fifth try the door opened.
Since it was dry and darker than anywhere else in the store, I was careful not to find anything dangerous in here. I found a locker area and another door leading to what was presumably the store manager's office. I tried the keys on the lockers, managed to open all of them, and found some things: a lighter, a pencil, a pen, a hammer, a box of dried-out cigars, employes' clothing, and a backpack in perfect condition. I put everything in it, and in the backpack I found the jackpot: a wallet belonging to someone who surely wouldn't need it anymore; it had a twenty-dollar bill.
I put everything away and went to the last door; this time it opened on the first try—how lucky.
A fully furnished office in perfect condition, and I hit the jackpot: more money, a hundred dollars in cash inside a cardboard box, and, last but not least, a small safe. I got it out; I have to say it weighed more than it looked, so I took it outside and let my lizard open it for me.
The contents, aside from the paperwork I didn't care about, included a flip phone without a battery, a .38 revolver with bullets, and—best of all—one hundred dollars in cash.
¡Timbre!
Carry out your first serve without anyone stopping you.
Bronze ticket
I used it right away.
[Fight mode]
|Common skill|
Focus and start fighting. Using this ability floods your body with incredible amounts of adrenaline, noradrenaline, cortisol, endorphins, testosterone, and dopamine, causing it to enter an intensified fight mode without suffering the negative consequences of an overdose of those chemicals and hormones.
I smiled at my new reward and sat on the couch with my weird leg, enjoying my victory over this shitty world.
It was already too late at nite to risk going out any further; by this point it was pretty strange that I hadn't been mugged in Brockton Bay yet, so I decided to sleep here tonight. I told the basilisk to push the couch into the darkest corner of the store while I looked for a blanket and pillow in the storeroom so I could sleep soundly tonight. I found what I was looking for in a box behind the closet; I took it out and carried it to the sofa, where my pet was already waiting for me.
I set up the makeshift bed and lay down on it. I gave the Basilisk a mental command: to keep watch at nite and, if it noticed anyone entering the tent, to wake me up immediately. A heavy breath was its response, which I took as an "okay" in my head, so I turned over and fell asleep.