19th of Febuary, 2 weeks before my 21st birthday
I was making my way to the radio station: it sounds nice, but when I say radio station, I mean some guy's spare room where he hosted a local radio show.
I caught myself sighing. 'I really dropped out of college for this. Better catch my break soon - I can't be DJing gigs like these.'
I stepped onto the train - the fare cost about a quarter of what I was getting paid - and sat down. The doors slid shut. A monotone voice rang out on the tannoy: "Welcome aboard the London Underground service to - West Croydon. The next stop--"
*Crash* *Screeech!*
The train shook as the grinding of metal on metal interrupted the tannoy. I tried to stand up but stumbled back into my seat as the train began leaning to one side, like a ship beginning to capsize. I spun around, peering out of the window to see what was happening. The ground was covered in a web of cracks. Some were hairline thin, others were already palm-width thick - they were all getting wider. The wheels on my side of the train had already sunk into one of these unfathomably deep cracks.
*Creeeaak!*
The train rocked again as it dropped deeper into the fissure. The train car was only half-full, but there were still enough passengers to nearly deafen me with their shrieks. While they were busy screaming, I grabbed the seat in front and wrenched myself to my feet, dashing to the opposite side of the car and hammering the button to open the doors. After an agonizing second, they obliged. Nearly tripping as the train sunk again, I hopped out. Turning around, I shouted into the train car, "Get out!"
This sparked a frenzy of action as tens of passengers tried to squeeze through 3 sets of doors, stumbling into one another whenever the train rocked. I looked down the platform to see staff - our lovely hi-vis shepherds - herding passengers out of other cars.
By the time all the passengers had disembarked, the train was nearly on its side, and the front of it had completely sunk into one of the largest cracks around. However, I could see the speed these cracks were growing at had significantly decreased. What was happening? Was this an earthquake? Had the worst of it passed?
Noticing the cracks had now completely stopped growing, I stepped forwards towards the edge of the platform, trying to peer into the fissure which threatened to engulf the train. I wanted to see how deep it was, what was at the bottom. Suddenly, dark red vapour began spewing out of the crack, causing me to recoil. Some of it got in my mouth. It tasted acidic, making me gag. I stepped back, trying to spit out whatever weird gas I might've breathed in, but I couldn't get rid of the taste. The red vapour poured out of every crack, filling the station. Everybody was terrified, but I only knew this because I could hear people panicking - the thick mist meant I could barely see my hand when I held it in front of me.
Then, something happened which made even me uneasy. The smoke began to move: washing over my skin, caressing my hair, inspecting me in an almost sentient manner. My body tensed at its touch, and I heard the cacophony of noise around me increase a notch in volume. Then...
*WHOOSH*
Waves of mist shot into my body, disappearing within me. It took only a matter of moments before all the smoke of the station disappeared, allowing me to observe the unnerved and dismayed expressions of other travellers.
"What the fuck was that smoke?"
"Ah. Ahhhhhh! It's inside me!"
The cries continued, but my attention was wrenched away by something far, faaar more interesting...
Before my face was a deep black 'Status Window'.
The letters were white, written in calligraphic style. They read as follows:
Information
Name: Jude Harrison
Alias: None
Job: None (Tier 0)
Spirit-type: Augmented Human
Mana-type: Basic Fire Mana
Attributes
Strength: Low (Medium)
Agility: Low (High)
Sturdiness: Low (Low)
Vitality: Low (Medium)
Mana Pool: Low (Low)
Mana Power: Low (Low)
Perception: Low (Low)
Skills
Karma: 0
My immediate reaction was one of disappointment at my lacking stats and empty skills tab. However, in hindsight, I now know my disappointment was misguided: save for the name, everybody in the world had an identical status window. Just reaching Medium (Low) in an attribute meant you exceeded human limits, so even pro athletes were limited to Low (Peak), though they were much closer to the next level than average people. For many of them, that minor head start proved to be a massive advantage.
Let's return to the point, though. Whilst I was slightly irked by having lacking attributes despite my somewhat athletic nature, others were exclaiming in awe and confusion - or, for the few who had read too many system-based webnovels, pure elation. I couldn't see status windows in front of them, but I didn't have to exercise my imagination much to realise everybody had them. While others were still caught in a myriad of emotions, my composure had returned - I was never without it for long - and my gaze panned towards the cracks which had half-eaten my train. This obviously wasn't an earthquake, so what was going on?
The large fissure - and all the smaller ones around us - were glowing red, and I could see strands of smoke lingering within them, not leaking out. Then, there came a groaning from the direction of the largest crack. I immediately assumed it was the train creaking, but it was a different kind of sound: not metallic but raw, guttural.
My eyes narrowed. As the sound intensified, I retreated, putting as much distance and as many people as possible between myself and the crevice which split the earth apart.
Before I could get far, though, fragments of concrete exploded into the air. Colossal claws dug into the bank of the crack, followed by a second paw of blades. The guttural noise was clearer now: the whining of a dog. But, as it pulled itself through the crack, I could see this dog was far from man's best friend. It was red with streaks of midnight black ripping down its sides; it stood four feet tall but looked more muscular than a cow; it had butcher's knives for teeth and when its spittle landed on the platform, concrete dissolved. I did not want to be anywhere near it.