Chapter 4: Getting the run down

The words settled over him like a crash of thunder.

Gene looked from Moira to the impossible machine and back again.

He remembered the strange voice and every thing slowly connected.

He smiled.

“Oh, this is going to be fun!”

Gene’s grin faded almost as quickly as it had appeared.

To him, excitement was all well and good, but the last twenty-four hours—or however long it had been since Elias Crowe had turned him into a human pincushion—had taught him one critical lesson, and that was that the extraordinary rarely came without hidden penalties.

And those usually came with unpleasant consequences.

Moira studied him for a moment, her amber eyes narrowing as if she were measuring whether he was an idiot, a genius, or some alarming combination of the two.

Given Gene’s life history, the answer was probably all three.

“You’re taking this rather well,” she said.

Gene glanced at the towering machine, the glowing sigils, and the crystal rings turning with a sound like distant bells.

“I just got stabbed to death by a lunatic stalker, dressed like a character in one of my written stories. At this point, magical bureaucracy feels like an upgrade.”

For the first time, Moira’s stern expression cracked.

A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.

“Then perhaps you’ll survive.”

“Not exactly a ringing endorsement of the job.”

“It is the highest compliment I can offer strangers.”

Gene decided he liked her.

A sudden chime echoed through the chamber.

The floating panes of crystal around the Chronicle Forge shifted, reorganizing themselves into neat rows. Silver letters appeared across the dark central slab.

NEW SUMMONER DETECTED

INITIALIZATION REQUIRED

FIRST SUMMON MANDATORY

Gene blinked.

A translucent screen materialized before him, hovering in the air.

⸻

SUMMONER STATUS

Name: Gene Gingerline

Rank: Initiate Summoner

Title: Late Bloom

Domain Level: 1

Summon Slots: 1/1 Available

Points: 100 Starter Points

Special Trait: Narrative Convergence

Secondary Trait: Horror Specialization

⸻

Gene stared at the final line.

“Horror Specialization.”

He looked up at Moira.

“Is that normal?”

Moira’s face went very still.

“No.”

She pulled out a notebook and gave it a few scribbles.

“That’s either very good or very bad.”

She snapped her notebook closed.

“Either way we shall continue on.”

Gene tapped the translucent text in front of him with one finger.

 The letters rippled like water.

“I’m guessing that this is my character sheet.”

“An interface generated by the Forge,” Moira said. “It translates biological and metaphysical information into a format your mind can understand.”

She sighed and rolled her eyes.

“Before you ask, the character screen is made of the moisture from the air. Yes, It is drinkable in emergencies if you really need to.”

She looked over and saw that Gene slid his tongue back in his mouth.

Gene embarrassingly smirked.

“Atleast I know that I wasn’t the first person to have that idea. I approve.”

The next line appeared on the Forge.

PLEASE APPROACH THE FORGE