The lights blinked back on, and the room was gone. Remi and Nel were once again coming up the stone elevator shaft.

  [QUEST COMPLETE: Locks & Keys]

  Ding!

  [LEVEL UP: 11]

  The floor trembled. Then it moved—a deep, grinding quake as stone tore itself from the earth and began to rise.

  Remi flailed for balance. Elegant, it wasn't. He dropped his butt to lower his center of gravity—an emergency squat that again looked ridiculous. Unfortunately, this time, Nel was facing him.

  “Smooth,” she said with a snort.

  Fuck me! The movement didn’t even seem to affect her at all. She just seemed to shift her weight slightly, but appeared otherwise unfazed. Of course!

  Nel looked up as they again proceeded to the portal above. “I tossed my point into Agility; you should probably continue to work on your intelligence.” Her smile was playful. Remi knew what she meant; they should lean into their chosen roles. She continued with the ribbing, “as you obviously are too graceful to need an agility boost.”

  “Yah, yah. Laugh at the clumsy book nerd,” he said.

  “I thought that is what I was doing.”

  Remi tossed the point into intelligence. It was what he was going to do even without her suggestion. As if following a script, their point allocation seemed to prompt the next system response.

  [New Achievement! You’ve done a lot of shit!]

  You’ve both had to do a ridiculous number of things to earn your next level. There were so many narrative hoops to jump through that you should have been in a three-ring circus!

  Reward:

  Remi: You gave me a robe!

  [AI]: The Great Hall can be a bit drafty.

  Remi: I will not wear your stupid robe.

  [AI]: I love that you still think I will give you a choice.

  Remi turned his attention back to Nel. “I have a feeling the robes are going to be bad.”

  “We’re about to find out,” she said. She pointed upward, and to Remi’s surprise, they were just below the portal to the Great Hall again.

  “I can’t wait,” was all Remi could manage before they were once again whisked into the Safe Room.

  As the room once again resolved, it was exactly as it had been when they had arrived the first time, except for two things. Talanore appeared to be absent, and Remi was wearing a hideous housecoat. Nel’s was classic white, like something you would find at an expensive hotel. It even had a monogrammed, large letter N on it. Remi’s on the other wasn't that. It was bright orange, with a Comic Sans emblem across his chest: too hot to handle.

  It also ended a mere three inches below decency. No pants. Bare feet. Perfect. Remi self-consciously tugged his robe downwards, hoping to add a bit of length, but the terrycloth was unforgiving, and apparently so was Nel.

  The flash from her laptop alarmed him more than the outfit itself.

  “For documention purposes,” she said as she snapped her laptop closed.

  Remi was even more mortified as it was at this precise moment that Talanore reappeared. He popped up from behind the bar and guffawed when seeing Remi.

  “Nice threads! Oh, you must have done something really special to be given that,” he said. “But don’t worry, I got you.” Talanore waved his hand, and Remi’s robe morphed to match Nel’s. “I returned yours to the standard cosmetic. Gave me override authority in this place, so fuck them, eh?”

  If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  Remi could only nod in agreement. He took a seat at the bar, which backed up on its own, allowing him to slide in as he approached Talanore. Nel had faux sadness plastered on her face as she joined him.

  “I liked the old one better,” she said, resting her face on top of her two arms, which she rested on the bar.

  Remi nodded appreciatively at Talanore. “I, for one, am thankful that my ass is now covered.” He hoped they were finally at the end of this line of discussion.

  Fortunately, Talanore took the hint and returned Remi’s nod. “I was looking for these.” He slid two pieces of parchment, about the size of a dollar, across the bar. “One for each of you.”

  Remi picked up the paper and read:

  1 Crucible Chit

  Congratulations on your continued survival!

  Void if you die before cashing it in. No refunds for existential crises.

  He scoffed. “So…a story coupon?”

  Talanore looked at him sternly. “Yes, you completed a significant narrative milestone, so this is your reward. They are not as common as you’d think. Most of the time you get system-generated loot; however, these can be cashed in with me for something of your choice.”

  “So, less coupon, more ticket to redeem prizes.”

  Talanore looked annoyed. “Listen, this isn’t a Chucky Cheese; you aren’t getting plastic crap here. The more chits spent, the better the loot. Normally, I would tell you to save them, but the first one usually gives you some pretty good things to pick from.”

  Nel leaned forward, interested. “Show me.”

  “Gladly,” he said, scowling at Remi, before he returned his attention to Nel. Talanore tapped the glass bar twice and two items appeared before Nel. The glass rippled like water, two icons surfacing—each hovering above a glowing caption. Remi couldn’t read what the descriptions said from where he sat, but it didn’t take her long. She passed over her chit to Talanore.

  “This one,” she said, tapping the item furthest from Remi. The item she didn’t pick disappeared along with the chit. It glowed, folded in on itself repeatedly and vanished, sucked into the bar once it had become a tight ball.

  “Oh, that is a good choice, Lass,” Talanore remarked.

  Nel pulled out her laptop and set it on top of the remaining item description. The words travelled from the glass, into her laptop, which pulsed in response. “Perfect,” she said. “Let’s see if it works.”

  Nel typed a few things on her keyboard, and Remi almost fell off his stool as a neon orange line appeared beside her. It was as tall as she was and echoed the rip in the universe that appeared when Remi summoned his meter stick. The line grew until it was about six feet. It pivoted and turned from a line to a rectangle. Nel got up and stepped through the portal. There was the smell of ozone, stepped from one door and appeared about twenty feet behind Remi. He guessed from the door that had appeared there. It all happened so fast it was like she had been jumping like this for years. She was so damn good!

  Talanore nodded. “For now. But you can upgrade it with subsequent chits so that you can use it to travel—.” Nel cut him off.

  “I read the description. This is what I needed.”

  Talanore shrugged. “Glad to hear it, lass.” He turned his attention back to Remi. “Now you, Mr. Thinks-the-chits-are-stupid, do you want to see what I have for you?”

  Remi nodded, walking back from his previous disdain. “Yes, please. Thanks.”

  Talanore nodded again, but this time it felt like he was accepting an apology. He tapped the counter three times directly in front of Remi. As his finger left the glass, he could see an icon appear. Tap, a staff appeared. Tap, two sticks. With a final tap, a sword. The staff shimmered, and sparks shot from the top; the twin sticks spun around one another in a lazy orbit; the sword flickered, half-rendered, as if uncertain it belonged to him.

  Nel’s icons appeared to have individual text under each, while Remi seemed to all share a single description: meter stick upgrades. Select one. “That’s it? That is all I get?”

  Talanore shrugged. “I don’t decide on the write up, the system does, but don’t let the plain text fool you. The system often hides the best options behind bad descriptions and always gives you what you need to make a good choice.”

  Reassured, Remi looked closer at his options. The Staff looked like a traditional wizard staff, except it looked like it was made from a lengthened version of his meter stick. The two sticks were shorter than what he currently had, and one appeared darker than the other. And the sword was difficult to see, as it kept glitching. It appeared and then disappeared, as if it were fighting either to remain there or flee; Remi wasn't sure which.

  He looked up to find both of Talanore’s eyes locked on him. “It’s not about power, lad. It’s about how you want the world to read you.”

  Remi understood. This was a path choice, not a simple weapon upgrade. Talanore had confirmed his thoughts about the sword. It wasn't for him; it was likely here only because of his hybrid nature, but it was obvious now that the system was trying to remove it as a viable option.

  His slightly defiant nature flared. If the system didn’t want him to have something, he wanted to take it out of spite. Remi set the thought aside. Spite, while it might feel good, was often a destructive path to follow narratively. The system had repeatedly shown him the benefits of following the arc set out for him.

  That left the staff or the two sticks. A closer examination of the staff confirmed it was in fact the traditional wizard’s staff. This would be a weapon used to cast spells at a great distance. It might even give him access to Fireball. The thought still appealed to him, but he knew that this too was a mistake. He was a combat mage. Archie had told him that the system wanted him to get up close.

  Left with only one real viable option, Remi slid the ticket to Talanore. The chit leaped up off the bar, and folded in on itself until it was the size of a spitball. Like Nel’s had, it then sank into the bar, like a small stone swallowed into the deep oblivion of a lake. Remi touched the image of the two shorter meter sticks. “I will take these.”

  Talanore nodded in approval. “Good.”

  The icon on the bar blazed bright orange and seemed to wait. Remi took his cue from Nel and retrieved his weapon of choice. He reached into the murse and carefully extracted the battle-worn stick and placed it on the waiting bar. While he knew he could have just summoned the stick, it felt ostentatious in this setting. Remi knew he would have felt foolish using the rune when he had time to retrieve it the regular way. He was amused that the thought of a personal pocket dimension was the regular option for storage in this place.

  The bar reacted to the weapon. The icon and description spun into a thin line of runes that was then gobbled up by the wood.

  [METER STICK UPGRADE COMPLETE]

  Margin Split (Bound Weapon)

  This weapon can now divide or fuse at will. Splitting does not reduce strength but adjusts length, width, and shape to form combat sticks. Find the margin to split, fold the margin to fuse.

  Remi picked up the meter stick, and sure enough he now could feel a thin seam running up its length. It was almost imperceptible, like a hairline crack in the polished wood. As he traced his thumb along it, he felt pressure build, as if the air itself was pushing against him. When he pressed harder, the line pulsed orange, and the faint smell of ozone filled the room.

  There was a quiet snap, and the meter stick split in two.

  The sound wasn’t of wood breaking; it was sharp and clean, like the tearing of a page. In each of his hands, Remi now held a shorter and rounder version of his meter stick. Each was perfectly balanced, and while one was in the wood grain he expected, the other was a solid black version of that same stick. Like he had peeled the shadow off the original. It seemed to absorb the surrounding light.

  Remi felt the faint hum of mana vibrate against his palms. Tentatively, he brought the sticks together again. The halves, when they touched, clicked together like magnets, fusing with a soft click. Once again whole, with only the barely visible seam to show where they had split.

  “That’s pretty cool.” Talanore nodded again in agreement.

  “It is indeed, lad. You made the right choice there, I think. Those are Khali sticks you have. Designed for close and improvised combat.”

  Remi split the stick again. He stood and gave them each an experimental swing, slow loops to test their weight. He could see that they were built for damage. There was just one problem.

  “I don't know how to use these things.”

  Talanore gave him a toothy grin. He got up, slamming the rest of his whiskey. He pointed over his shoulder towards the two doors crammed against one another. The bar lights winked, throwing long shadows toward the twin doors he pointed to. One had a quill engraving on it; the other, a circuit. “That’s what the training room is for!”