I follow his gaze and realize I can see the window he’s looking at. On it are a list of tickets I’ve tackled and a timer beneath it.
258 Class 3 tickets. 4 Class 2 tickets (misclassified).
97.8% code fidelity. Loss of 1.8764k SMU.
Security rating upgraded to Class 2 (Provisional, within Administrative centers only. Pending approval).
14 hours, 38 minutes Administrator Time
“Fourteen hours!” I yelp a little. “Wait. What’s Administrator time?”
“Time within this zone is compressed. Only an hour and a half will have passed when you exit,” Wex says. “A decent number for a first-time delve.”
“Decent?” I raise an eyebrow.
“Decent. I cleared two hundred seventy-five,” Wex says.
“Three hundred fifteen,” Sefan says smugly.
Beyond the radiating pride from Sefan, I don’t see any indication they’re lying. Which makes me a little annoyed. Even if I know I’m not a gifted coder, it’s never nice to have it rubbed in your face. Especially since I was in the flow when they interrupted me.
It’s possible that was for the best though. Even if the flow, the damage, from interacting with this much System Mana is reduced in the Administrative Center, my body burns, aches from being damaged and regenerated continuously.
“However, the System seems pleased with your work,” Wex says. “Few Junior Administrators do as much. Or as cleanly.”
“As cleanly for sure.” Sefan stares at me, as if by just looking, he could dig out my secrets. Maybe outside of the Administrative Center he could, using Skills and psychic abilities, but in here, there’s just my smiling mien.
“Then did I pass?” I smile grimly. “Will you end your actions against Earth?”
“Earth?” Sefan looks puzzled before recollection sparks. He caws again, in shortened amusement. “That matter is already resolved. The vote will be done and another problem dealt with.”
“I don’t see a ticket for it, so it ain’t an Administrator problem,” I say, flicking my hand and refreshing the ticket. “Doesn’t seem to be a problem to me.”
“Not everything is dealt with via the Administrative Center,” Wex says. “Managing the Galactic System requires more than the ability to resolve tickets. Though that is not a matter that Junior Administrators should trouble themselves with.”
“Then again, I’m not your normal inductee, am I?” I say, turning from one to the other. “And that’s the point of why I’m here.”
“Yes.” Sefan’s wings rustle, opening and closing as he stares at me. In the end, he shakes his head to Wex. “He has talent. Whatever he did to get him the Class, it makes him a good technician. But he is too much of a risk. Even now, he taunts us. He will not bow. He will not bend. My vote stands.”
“The Weaver will be unhappy,” Wex states calmly, clicking its mandibles together. But it lowers itself on a thread, getting closer to me.
“Hey now, no need to be hasty. You could try asking before making pronouncements,” I say, edging away.
To my utter lack of surprise, the damn spider-creature has invisible threads strung above, letting it shift sideways too. It just reattaches as necessary. I eye the surroundings, taking in the mezzanine floor, the walls. There’s no exit that I can see. I cast around discreetly for a way out as the corvid stalks toward me. Sefan’s feet click with each step, even as the spider above me moves, watching my every motion.
“We are not hasty.” Sefan’s wings open and a breeze arises.
“We are deliberate.” Wex twitches, and the notification windows collapse, shrouding me in darkness.
“We are inevitable.” Energy talons extend from Sefan’s fingers.
“We are what makes the System work.” Wex rears back, bunching legs as he readies himself.
Together, they finish their creepy villain dialogue. “And you are a bug.”
Chapter 17
I throw myself out of the way well before they finish their words. Sefan is already darting forward, the wings on his back beating as he flies low toward me. Wex above on its invisible threads, barely discernible with its camouflaged skin, spurts out new thread, hoping to catch me.
Skin tears, blood staining the white floor of the Administrative Center. The energy talons Sefan uses don’t burn, leaving my torso wound to dribble red blood, nanowoven battlemesh coming apart as easily as Christmas wrapping paper. As Sefan twists in mid-air, I smell the musky stink of his feathers, hints of heavy spices and clean wind.
A raised sword catches the thread as it splashes around me, allowing me to tear myself away from Wex’s attack. The sudden jerk and change in momentum forces me into a roll, small strands of the spider thread catching at my clothing and tearing free. My sword I dismiss, leaving its thread to flop around uselessly before I recall the clean weapon to hand.
Soulbound seems to mean something more than just plain Skills. That’s good, because I’m at a disadvantage here.
I hunt for an exit, pushing at the System, searching. After a second, a notification flares into my vision, ever so briefly. A door flickers then disappears, forced away by the Senior Administrators.
Distracted, I don’t see Sefan bearing down on me until it’s too late. A sword catches one talon, my free hand grasping his shoulder as he bowls me backward. I fly back under the mezzanine I’ve been angling toward, feeling his talons sink into my body. At least we’re briefly hidden from Wex above.
Taloned claws clench in my stomach, tearing at intestines, slippery innards sliced apart and turned into Silly Putty as the Senior Administrator easily overpowers me. I struggle, but he’s stronger, much, much stronger. Even adjusting the Strength attribute, throwing everything into pure strength does nothing to his grip.
If they had Skills, if I had Skills, this fight would go differently. But we have nothing but our attributes, our skills, and whatever innate abilities we might have given our bodies.
Sefan’s mouth opens in a long screech that makes my ears hurt, my arm tremble. I shift the direction of his other attack, letting his arm slip over my shoulder even as I crash into the wall behind me. My teeth slam shut, blood fills my mouth, and my bones creak in dismay. The wall itself does not give way, Mana construct that it is, but his talon is briefly captured.
I drop down, feeling more of my body tear, rip. But the overly sharp nature of his claws plays against Sefan now, the skin in my torso opened wide. I rip free, screaming in agony. His now-free hand swings down. A sword in the way cuts into his arm a little, stopping the attack as I’m flattened on the floor.
Out of the corner of my eyes, beneath the mezzanine roof, I see Wex creeping over. Its body can barely be seen but for flickers of motion. It’s taking its time, placing its feet carefully as multi-faceted eyes watch as I struggle.
And struggle I am, for Sefan keeps lashing out. I have a single sword that allows me to block his attacks somewhat. But each blow throws me around, crumpling my defense and leaving me bleeding.
Seconds pass, enough time for Wex, with its increased attributes, to near. A kick—a new addition to Sefan’s arsenal—throws me back into the unyielding wall when I attempt to escape. I crack my head again and see stars. My health is halfway down, my torso a gaping wound that attempts to reconstruct itself, but a part of me, the part that is connected to the System, buzzes.
It’s angry, upset over the breaking of its rules. I almost swear I sense a touch of frustration in the connection, but I can’t focus on it. Just my impending doom, as Sefan raises his hand to strike me down.
Time slows as I taste iron, as stars resound and his screech of victory pierces my eardrums. I watch talons, glowing yellow and red with shafts of energy, rise and fall, both oh-so-fast and glacially slow at the same time. I feel my hand, bereft of my sword, rise up to block it. I know it’s wasted effort.
Time slows, and for a few infinite seconds, I have time to think.