Chapter One: One More Spin, Whats The Harm?

John Dour stared inquisitively at the slot machine and obelisk in front of him, and wasn't that a conundrum in and of itself.

John was quite sure that he'd just died recently, although the memory is spotty at best, the pain and agony was still there, haunting his mind in the background.

Then he wakes up, strange, yet not totally unexpected; perhaps he was in a hospital?

John was onboard Plato's philosophy that death is just an eternal sleep that one never wakes up from, peaceful and relaxing.

This wasn't what he was expecting. Grey endless skies with no stars or sun, gloomy mist, and a black brick road leading to the two aforementioned objects; a slot machine, and an obelisk.

The obelisk droned on in a dramatic, yet recorded tone, about how he had three 'spins' on the machine, each spin will give him a power, completely random.

It could be a power so amazing he could destroy worlds with it, or be a simple talent in cooking.

After getting and reviewing his powers he would then place his hands on the obelisk, sending him off for reincarnation, transmigration, or insertion into another reality.

This process is once again; random.

He could go to any world and any reality, although it said that it wouldn't place him into a world where he had less than 1% chance of survival; so no instant death or being shuttled into a black-hole.

John Dour, like his name sake, is a dour man, serious and grim, yet he was quite interested in where he will live his new life, not including the powers he would gain from the slot machine of abilities.

Strolling over to the object of luck that will determine his future, John gave the leaver a good tug.

The machine started rolling, letters and numbers incomprehensible and eldritch in scope flashed on the screen; slowly they arranged into English, his native language, then words, and finally he was able to read what he got for his first power.

Human Augmentation: Augment the human form using serums, cyber-tech, and more. This power will grant you blueprints and formulas that are only restricted to the imagination and limited rules of reality. [A+ CLASS]

A powerful ability and one that John was happy to take to its fullest potential.

John, while not an avid supporter of trans-humanism, as it was currently far too undeveloped and crude, thought it as the next step in human evolution.

He emphasizes humans as natural evolution comes at the cost of millions of years, and a challenging environment is needed to adapt to over that time period.

With the coming of the modern age, if humans live like this for thousands of years, he personally thinks humanity will look just like the humans in WALL-E.

So artificially augmenting the human genome and body sounds like a very human thing to do, cheating nature once more.

John read through the power description, and paused at the 'A' Classification. On a whim he taps the screen of the machine and another description appears before him.

???: Multiversal Breaking - Omniversal Damaging

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SSS: Reality Breaking

SS: Universal Breaking

S: World Breaking

A: Extremely Valuable

B: Very Valuable

C: Valuable

D: Slice of Life

E: Weak

F: Worthless

John's let out a breath of disbelief. Some of these ratings were just… stupid.

The fact that this machine has the ability, disregarding how rare it might be, to give out a power that surpasses breaking reality, is mind boggling.

Shaking himself out of his reprieve, John reached up and pulled again.

The machine blasted through even more eldritch letters and symbols before another ability was encoded onto the screen.

Walter White to The Nth Degree: Drugs and chemicals are your jam. You are a super genius in chemistry and have the ability to make some really weird shit. You can make a drug on par with Heroine with belly button lint, some spit, and a blade of grass. God forbid getting a real lab, that's when the drugs stops at mind breaking and become metaphysical bridges to another plane of consciousness. [A CLASS]

John gave a brief chuckle at the powers name, seriously analyzing the power and its description, he was a bit on the fence on how to use this power.

The powers name was based on one of the most infamous drug cooks in America, and based on a serial television show.

He shrugged and gave a mental sorry to future John, as present John wanted more powers.

With an enthusiastic (for him) tug John crossed his fingers for luck. Once more the machine was plastered with formula and equations of alien make, before settling on his power.

Shaper: A power ripped from a Worm CYOA; although modified heavily. This power gives the user the ability to analyze, mold, change, and generally manipulate biological matter at will. It grants the user the knowledge and ability to turn any being with the required biological mass into an enslaved killing machine, provided that skin contact is made for the duration of the change. [~Rank S~]

John gave a small smile, one that showed far more than what one might think, internally, John was jumping up and down, screaming to the heavens to challenge his might and luck.

However as he was celebrating in his mind, something happened.

The machine changed.

Previously it was simply a black and grey bland slot machine, while high-tech and sophisticated, it was fairly bland.

Now it had veins of red and crimson.

Demonic sigils and marks, a change that was mirrored by the obelisk, new text revealed itself.

John disturbed walked to the obelisk in a hurried pace, hoping to get some answers.

The text was rough, and slightly hard to read, yet John managed.

'Greed is a sin, and this is the ultimate test. Spin once more and a power of at least B Class you shall have. This is not without cost. A curse shall be delivered and escaping it is impossible. Shall you test your luck once more, greedy human?'

It was tempting.

A temptation that he fell for.

John reached for the now warped and deformed handle, the moment his hand touched the grip and spike ran through it, barbed and bloody with his blood.

He bit back a curse and grimaced.

The pain is nothing in comparison to his death, one that is foggy in details, yet long and drawn out.

With visible effort, he pulled down the leaver, this time demonic letters were flashing in and out of his vision.

The screen eventually settled down, the spike receded its grasp on his hand, falling back into the grip, taking with it a few strands of flesh on its barbed blade.

Clenching his hand, John looked up to find two texts and descriptions.

An Assassins' Blade: You are a living killing machine, designed, born, created and forged for the express purpose of killing something. Weakness are revealed to you, your body is almost an autonomous creature, capable of reacting without input from the brain. Be warry of the born killer. [B Class]

Happily Psychotic: Ever heard of the Joker? You have a mental disability that screws with your emotional control. This makes you absurdly happy to the point of mental instability and psychosis. Rebalancing your brain's chemical levels will only work so long and are doomed to go insane from not being able to feel anything other than happiness. This curse will cause you to seek 'entertainment' likely perverse and twisted in some way or form, an example being making more people like you perhaps. Enjoy being a villain, as you're not a hero anymore.

John let out a string of curses, his curse was bad.

This was a trick and he fell for it line and center.

The euphoria and high of winning so many high end powers deluding him and his thought process and the obelisk taunting him. His eyes, unwilling as they were, drifted to the curse.

John had but a few moments before his body was slowly being drawn to the obelisk, likely to drag him into his new 'life'. John Dour's last few moments of mental lucidity were spent thinking one thought.

"Well shit." John Dour knew no more.