“Something…” I frown. I poke at my resistances mentally, testing the borders of the System-generated defenses. I find nothing, but my footsteps have begun to drag, each movement slower than the other. “Something’s wrong.”
Ali frowns, then he slowly stops spinning. He opens his mouth then shuts it, notification windows appearing then disappearing, flicking on and off. He struggles, then suddenly, just up and disappears.
Banished.
My sword appears in my hand and I turn around slowly, searching for the threat. For what banished him. Long minutes pass, where I have to fend off a worried ping from Mikito and the growing dread. But nothing happens.
And I find myself growing angry. Angry at whatever it is that’s affecting me, that’s slipping past the defenses the System has put in place. That has buffered my will and driven me on.
That has made me, me.
I’m angry, and because I’m me, instead of turning away, instead of running, I turn back. I walk farther in, shoving my anger at the damn feeling, at the cloying tendrils of fear that wrap around my heart and guts that try to push me away. Anger unleashed, the dread and fear, the need to depart, shrivels before me.
Step after step, I make my way inward, the empty alleyway a void of dark thoughts and darker threats. I push forward with each step before the tension snaps like a rubber band at my latest step.
I stagger as the weight, the pressure disappears. Only to find myself nearly where the location given to me should be. The place where I am to meet the Council. Or whoever it is I’m to meet.
“A thousand and one demons,” I snarl, realization arriving belatedly.
Of course this feeling bypassed the System. The gods damned Administrators are in play here. The weirdness in Mana, the Skills not working. It’s their way of hiding themselves. Which means…
I eye the empty space before me, the innocuous piece of land that marks the meeting spot. There’s nothing there, nothing I can see, nothing I can sense even when I push my Mana Sense forward. It’s empty.
Utterly empty.
“Well, let’s just hope I’m not a frog looking up the well.” Two quick steps, and I’m there.
Then.
Light.
***
When my sight resolves again, I’ve taken three steps to the side, crouched low with my sword held before me and trying to activate Soul Shield. Surprisingly, it doesn’t activate, which has me worried. Almost as much as my blindness.
But System healing is powerful, and the teleportation—and it was a teleportation—wasn’t meant to blind me, just shift me. To this place. A simple room filled with hanging notification windows with System script scrolling across, multiple bar and line graphs, and what my many years as an IT worker can tell immediately is a ticketing board with colored priority task lists.
My stomach falls, my breathing hitches, and I push—and fail to activate—Blade Strike. Just for a second, before I get hold of myself. Flashbacks are bad, and it’s surprising that my short period working at an IT help desk can be more scarring than getting eaten by a giant monster.
“So. You really are on Irvina,” a voice cuts through my subsiding panic, dragging my attention to it.
I turn my head from side to side, taking in the room and the simple steel-grey mezzanine floor without a railing, the glowing blue notification windows that dominate the walls before turning to the only figure within.
He stands before me, a humanoid corvid creature with black feathers, a long beak, and large, pupil-filled eyes that focus upon every motion of mine. Wings jut from his back, a contrast to the taloned fingers that he keeps crossed before me. As for clothing, he’s dressed in belts, and a loin cloth and nothing more.
My eyes narrow further when I see his Status.
Sefan ared Lebek’jjas (Senior Administrator Level 14)
HP: ???/???
MP: ???/???
Conditions: ???
“Who are you?” I push once more at my identification Skill and find it doesn’t activate further. Another push and System Edit kicks in, showing me that my entire series of Skill uses are being blocked. An Administrative block.
What the hell?
“If you read your location notification, you’ll understand,” Sefan says.
I realize I swore out loud, but while keeping an eye on him, I call forth the System location notification as he suggested.
You have entered Administrative Center 194-8-15 (Security Access Level 3)
Warning! No violence may be initiated in Administrative Centers. All Skills (outside of Administrative Skills) and System-assisted Spells are blocked. This includes all enchanted items and System-registered technological aids.
Effects: +2 Skill Ranks in System Edit Skills, +200% increase in Mana Sense skill, access to Level 3+ System Administrator Quests, access to Administrator Network (temporary)
Congratulations Junior Administrator!
You have accessed an Administrative Center for the first time! You have gained access to the System Administrator Quest notice board and the Administrator Network (temporary localized basis)
Level Up! +1 Junior Administrator Level
I stare at the notifications before coming back to myself. I realize that Sefan’s still making no move to bother me. In fact, his eyes are no longer even focused on me, darting from side to side as he reads notification windows, talons twitching in small motions as he controls the data.
Thus far, if this was a trap, they’ve missed multiple opportunities to close the jaws of it. And really, I can only hope it’s not a trap. If it is, I walked in here knowing it could be. Without answers, I’m not leaving. And this is my first chance for true answers.
I dive into the notifications, pulling up the System Administrator Quest board. And then I have to quell my rising panic when I realize it’s the very same task list I spotted on arrival.
“Cut me apart and boil me in the thousand hells. You have got to be fucking joking with me.” When the corvid stares at me, I growl. “The damn System Administrator Quest board is an IT help desk!”
“Well, yes. We are System Administrators.” Sefan’s voice is slightly musical, a little clicky—as if the top of his tongue keeps hitting the roof of his mouth at the most inopportune time. That his tongue is sharp and angular and perhaps not used to Galactic might be the reason for that. “We fix the System, when necessary.”
I twitch. The first ticket I try to touch—one that’s glowing green—sends a painful jolt back at me. I stagger, feeling my nerves burn as the ticket rejects my choice.
“Why would you choose one you are barred from?” Sefan says.
“It’s green. Green is go!”
“No. Green is barred. You are black.” Sefan shakes his head. “Everyone civilized knows that.”
I hear the unsaid “barbarian,” but I leave it alone. Even if, I know, there’s no such information in any of the Galactic civilization packs I’ve purchased.
I’m a little hesitant to touch the ticketing board again, but I have to know. So, mentally reaching out, I touch a black ticket. And get a notification.
There’s Something Wrong in Tumiaaq (Status Level 3)
Experience and Mana exchange is imbalanced in Tumiaaq. Conflict caused by inclusion of dungeon 132.8, revision 511581251267844.881.52, and the presence of the Skills Experience Tap for the Lazy and 5,565 Minutes Used Properly.
Do you wish to take this quest? (Y/N)
I hit the No, skipping out of the mental notification, and check a few more. They’re all the same, all coding issues where Mana, experience, Levels, Skills, or attributes are messed up. Sometimes for the better, sometimes for the worse. A dungeon spawning too fast. A building not fixing itself, instead spewing out System Mana as it attempts to handle a persistent enchanted item. A warp engine with a design error that churns through unaffiliated Mana while also draining System Mana at the same time.