Living Dangerously

One world to describe all this - Crazy.

The degree of insanity all this pointed to was staggering. There was an infinite number of ways this could go wrong. I could be killed, captured, mind fucked or brainwashed by too many forces for the knowledge in my head. The number of BBEGs here was staggering, and that was leaving aside how pretty much everybody got a redemption arc. The rational part of me knew that the most safe choice would be to head down to some unrelated place, preferable Antarctica, and bunker down until the main mission was dealt with. This would be the smart choice, considering the existence of the ancient one with free access to the Time Stone, or the TVA, or even Cable, for some reason, if he decided I was a threat.

But there was a part of me, a significant part of me, that was just excited. There were more than a thousand ways in which this could go wrong, there was a higher chance of me dying a horrible death while simply going out for a walk, but I could not deny that a significant part of me loved it.

The uncertainty, the thrill, the rush from balancing at the edge of a knife, treading the fine line between madness and adventure. What can I say, I like to live dangerously. Its as if the thrill of dodging death by a hair's width is what makes life worth living. 

My thoughts were interrupted by the System notification which so graciously decided to grace me with its presence, providing credence to my conjuncture.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

[Achievement Unlocked]

[A Man of Culture: Recognize the World you are in within 15 minutes from Transmission.]

[You Gained 10 Points.]

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Brilliant. Almost as if acting like a tipping point, this system notification was all I needed to make up my mind. I knew this was neither the smart choice nor the easy way; but I'd be damned if I let this chance get away. I did promise to make it interesting.

And it's no shame to admit the truth- Prettier is the rose when it's adorned with thorns; for it's the chase which makes its beauty impactful. And if the thorns are poisonous and flower a tad crazy, it just gets better.

'Inventory'

The screen once again popped up in sync with my thoughts, though this time it was an empty 3x4 grid like inventory which one found in old-school games, along with a short explanation-

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

[Inventory

 An intuitive storage space given to all Questers for each quest.]

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

A typical start to an atypical journey. Satisfied with my draw and rapidly losing consciousness, I drowned in the acute darkness called sleep and fell into a slumber.

Let the games begin.

At this point, I was confident enough to face anything they threw at me. Call it Fate or Luck, or just Murphy's Law in question, but I couldn't have been more wrong about it.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Drip. Drip. Drip.

The sound of droplets splattering on a surface woke me up from my fitful slumber, a haze of grogginess still over my senses.

Rubbing my eyes, I moved, trying to gather my thoughts over the muted clamor of noises, and barely a few moments later I froze, becoming aware of my situation.

Cold. Soul Chilling, brain freezing cold which snaked through my veins leaving a path filled with agony which jammed my legs and killed any notion of rest still surviving in my consciousness.

Amid the large room filled with huddled figures and muffled, fearful, immature whines; I truly gained consciousness for the first time.

It didn't take long for me understand the situation I was subjected to; locked in a room with similar aged children, rapidly rising water level which had an unnatural chill- this was my feedback, the limitation imposed by the World Will to balance my power; the so called Protagonist treatment, the ability to find myself in the midst of troublesome situations, treating the fine line between idiocy and bravery as a fuking skip-rope.

Taking a deep breath, I calmed down. No use getting worked up on a stupid rant. Especially when I had no listener to charm.

So, standard reincarnator stuff, minus one small detail. The lack of Plot Armour. No logic defying bullshit-no-jitsu, no random character development for the Antagonists, no rising from ashes.

Too much shit going on, but nothing I can currently deal with. Better leave it for the future me to think about.

Keeping such random thoughts aside, I walked to the large metal door which stood firm blocking the one visible path to freedom. The door was locked tight, with no gaps or visible sources of ventilation to stop the build up of cold water from flooding the room.

Everyone else had woken up as well, around 30 children of both genders seemingly of ages 8 to 14. The older ones clearly dwarfed the others in stature, and the hints of puberty visible in their faces led to the young ones clamoring and surrounding them and looking up to them for a semblance of adult comfort.

Pity, they were bound to be disappointed.

Ignoring the cluster of huddled chaos, too busy panicking which spared me from their unnecessary attention, I continued in my actions to search for anything usable.

The room was large, with 15 bunk beds and clearly demarcated wardrobes. The main source of illumination were safety lights, blinking and flickering, creating tension and a sense of crisis, fueled further by the rapidly rising water level.

Understanding the severity of the situation, I rushed to the wardrobes, splashing my way across the room, the water level now risen upto my calves making me keenly aware of the fact that I was the shortest and possibly the youngest in the room.

Thanking my stars for small mercies, I opened the kid friendly wardrobe which my above average 5 year old stature could easily open.

'Clothes, clothes, shoes, clothes, bags, Baseball bat! Bingo!'

There in the sixth wardrobe, placed amidst a black cloth wrapping on a high shelf, lay a demure silver metallic basebal bat.

In haste I grabbed the bat and pulled, but for some reason, I encountered resistance. Giving up on using my meager strength, I stepped back to gain a clear view.

Only to realize that there was another hand holding the bat from within the wardrobe. Gulping back my fear, I raised my vision, only to see unnerving emerald eyes looking back at me from the dark corner of the shelf.

××××××××××××××××××××××

The updates will be slow. Too much stuff going on. So keep calm and keep reading. Open to suggestions and ideas.