The Genesis Game 1 Page 3

  Unable to move and dying, he begged for vengeance against those who had wronged him. He cared nothing for justice; only the power to never be weak again and from within the dungeon, his cries for help were answered. He would have his vengeance. Pain shot through his body as black wings began to grow through the skin of his back, the pain was nothing compared to the pain of being helpless, and even that pain soon became pleasurable as he grew in power.

  Luca watched himself become the monster he had seen in his dreams.

  "I won't let this come to pass; I promise spirit. But how can I change the future?"

  The spirit of the dungeon answered. "I will help you; I will guide you in a way that I have never helped anyone in any world I have visited before. In you, I will have a tool to save humanity. I release you back to your world, think of what you have seen, and what trials await you. Do not forget what I have shown you."

  As the presence of the dungeon spirit left, Luca found himself alone, and as the vision ended, he felt his heart begin to pound as the hair stood up on his arms and the back of his neck. He found himself in a nightmare, his hand pressed against a bloody handprint, looking at a new visage of himself. A visage comprised of shadow, terrifying and monstrous, but rather than him watching that visage, the visage watched him. The nightmare keenly aware of his existence — a fact that terrified Luca.

  Luca tried to run, but black wings beat down upon him as he tried to turn away from the monstrous sight of this dark avatar. An avatar of broken black steel wings that had been shredded, a body covered in coagulated blood and grime. Bloodshot eyes bore into Luca, staring into him with desperate hunger.

  As Luca tried to will himself awake that, horrible image of himself shot out a bloodied talon that tore through his chest and pierced his heart. He watched with a mouth unable to scream as his heart was torn from his body, and that image of himself consumed it.

  Chapter 3: Back To The Past

  * * *

  The feeling of movement woke Seraph from his slumber as tires beat against a paved asphalt. Groggy and tired, Seraph strained to open his eyes. Heavy with sleep and struggling to awaken, he tried to stand, but as his body shifted to match the movement beneath it, he felt something strain against his chest.

  "Restraints?" He thought. “Me? Who would dare to restrain me? What is this? Another trick of the dungeon.” His sudden irritation and anger flooded his body with chemicals, and his body responded by banishing the last vestiges of sleep. He opened his eyes, words of power on his lips, ready to unleash devastation and destruction on his captors. In the back of his mind, he wondered where he was as he could not recall clearly his memories after talking to the dungeon spirit. To him much of the recent past was a blur.

  With eyes open, he looked around in startled confusion and saw that the strap across his chest was not some torture device, but rather a seat belt, a device no longer familiar to him. Light filtered and shone through the window that he saw in his peripherals.

  “A window.” He thought in awe as he turned to look. Through that window, he saw cars passing by in a blurry haze as they sped down the road in the long procession of people trying to beat afternoon traffic. The spells he had been prepared to unleash dropped from his mind as he took in the moment and the novelty of it.

  Seraph hadn't seen a car in decades, not since they had abandoned the Earth entirely and retreated into the dungeon. But even before then, after he went into the dungeon, he had rarely returned to the surface. The sole exception was his travels preceding the great calamity of the green fire that overtook the Earth and his efforts to root out the enclaves of survivors and forcefully evacuate the talented and strong among them.

  Just to be sure, he reached out to touch the glass, the window feeling cold against his fingers. Despite himself, he couldn’t help but stare in amazement. As he stared out the window, his memories came rushing back to him as he smiled, thinking to himself. “I'm no prisoner, it worked. I've replaced my younger self and traveled to the past. This is my rebirth.” The dungeon had meant to give his younger self his memories, but Seraph had refused to die, his soul lingering and had instead used that chain of events to partially consume his younger self and replace him.

  He banished the wonderment from his mind. This was not the time to get distracted. This was the day the dungeon would first appear, day 0, and he needed to get to the dungeon and receive the spoils reserved for those who went first. Thankfully, he was already traveling in a car. It was just a matter of rerouting the driver.

  "I'm in a car, but who’s driving?” He asked himself as he looked forward towards the driver, trying to catch identifying details through the rear-view mirror. From what he could see, an older man was driving, but from this angle he couldn’t make out any other details. Not willing to put it to chance, Seraph moved his fingers in discrete patterns to cast an identification spell that would feed him details of the driver, but the spell failed without even a notification to alert him explaining why it had failed.

  Not to be deterred, he tensed his wings to ready to defend himself, ready to kill the man at the slightest provocation. Preparing himself to launch a quick counterattack that would behead the man if Seraph sensed any intention to attack while activating his defensive abilities that made him all but vulnerable to harm as he sought to control and anticipate every avenue of defense. Yet the uncomfortable sensation of fear crept in as his body failed to respond and his abilities failed to work, try as he might, nothing happened. He had a phantom sense of memory of a part of his body that no longer existed. His body tensed in rage as he realized he no longer had his black wings.

  Seraph's movements must have alerted the driver as the man turned around to face him, a familiar face that Seraph could not quite place.

  “Hey, kiddo. ‘Was hoping if I left you alone, you’d settle down and fall back to sleep. You could use it. I know you had a rough night last night, I heard you crying in your sleep.” After a few brief moments, he continued, “It doesn’t help that the school asks so much of you, as if you weren’t already tired enough with everything that's going on. But we still got a little while before we get home, why not try to get some more sleep? It'd be good for you to be nice and refreshed before we dig into your homework later.”

  Seraph felt a sense of unease as he struggled with how to respond, his thoughts awkward, confused and disoriented. Though he was no longer sleepy, he knew his mind had grown foggy, lacking the mental clarity he had been accustomed to. His thoughts now jumbled and without focus, in a way he could not remember ever being. This was different from some sort of debuff, he was slower in every sense. The answer came soon enough.

  Seraph realized he was normal again. An average, normal human, weak and pathetic. He truly had taken the place of his younger self when he had consumed him.

  He needed to get his bearings and try to navigate the situation towards his goals without alerting the driver that the driver should have cause for concern.

  “Where are we?” He asked, ignoring the driver’s comments, focused instead on his mission and his goals, a hint of arrogance showing through in his voice.

  The driver bristled at the rudeness, and Seraph internally chided himself for the mistake.

  The driver adjusted the mirror to get a better look at Seraph and responded. “Well, kiddo, I know you had a rough day today, but you seem to have forgotten that when I ask you something, I expect an answer.”

  “I’ll go ahead and answer that question and give you some time to rethink this newfound attitude you seem to want to give me. We’re stuck. We’ve been stuck in pretty bad traffic on I-85. I've been listening to the radio trying to figure out what's the holdup, but there doesn't seem to be many details for the slowdown, maybe something to do with that freak storm a little while ago while you were sleeping. Or it's probably another waste spill outside the carpet factory. Not that it matters much. The GPS is lit up red for miles, and I'm not pulling any detours off the GPS.”

  "Wait?” Thought Se
raph. “Kiddo? Kiddo?" He caught glimpses of his reflection in the driver’s mirror and turned to get a better look at himself in the window. Something he had not thought to do before.

  Gone were the wings of darkened steel feathers he had been so proud of. Gone was the body he had perfected in endless battle and training. Gone were the lines of grief and anger and sorrow and stress that had marred his face. There was no sign of age at all. In his reflection, he saw a teen of maybe 15 and knew from his reflection that he was basically a child.

  Realization set in that if he was wearing the body of his younger self, that would make the driver, the man upfront that had called him kiddo, his father. A man who had been dead to him for decades.

  Warning bells went off in Seraph's head as he realized the implications of his situation. For all practical purposes, he was without power. He would be unable to leverage death, danger, or threat of violence to force others into action for the foreseeable future. If he was truly a teen again and this man his father, then his father was an obstacle that he would have to overcome to reach the dungeon. An obstacle whose only answer was acting and diplomacy.

  Remembering the words imparted to him of “No second chances.” Seraph knew he had to succeed in every opportunity, he wouldn't be allowed to fail again. He needed to convince his father to take him to the Mall, so he could begin his search for the budding entrance to the dungeons.

  "Dad,” he said. The word long since unfamiliar, stumbling out of his mouth awkwardly. "What day is it?" Seraph just needed to verify, if his father was unwilling to take him, he would need to resort to force but did not want that as his first option, his success, if he was forced to take that route, was far from guaranteed.

  "Wow, kiddo." The man laughed. "That was some nap, wasn't it? Your still pretty groggy, I'm sure. You always sleep hard like that. "

  "Sorry, dad." Seraph replied the words coming out unfamiliar and with forced casualness. Father was too formal of a word, and as he talked to the man, it seemed to pry loose memories and remembered his dad never being overly formal, it was one of the few memories of his father.

  The last thing Seraph wanted was for this man to interfere directly or indirectly with his plans. "What day is it though, dad? There is something I’ve been looking forward to, and I think today is the day.” He needed to know for sure what day it was, and if the man refused to take him where he needed, he would take the car by force even if it meant costing the man his life.

  Grinning, the man turned around and looked at him, "Tuesday, kiddo. It's Tuesday the 7th in this the 2020th year of our Lord."

  The man waited for Seraph to laugh, his smile turning to a frown when he didn't elicit a response of either a laugh or smile from Seraph.

  "Luca," he said, completely reading the situation wrong, "I know things have been hard on you ever since your mom passed, but you have to let me in. We're a family, you know. We're all each other have, and I’m always going to be there for you, just like I promised your mom."

  For a moment, shock filled Seraph's body as he was reminded that he had forgotten his own name, something discarded and thrown away, alongside his bonds to family once he assumed his identity as Seraph. He found the thought that he had not always been Seraph to be uncomfortable. Oddly enough, he felt his eyes water at the mention of his mother and quickly wiped it away.

  Seraph got what he wanted from the conversation; he knew what day it was. Today was the day the dungeon opened, the day it first appeared, the day it let in the first souls who would walk its halls and claim its power. Today was the day the dungeon would begin to unleash monsters in the surrounding area. Today was the day in the past when he had originally lost his father, killed by a monster while stuck on the highway, stuck in traffic that seemed to never end.

  He had to think quickly, the entrance to the dungeon had first appeared in the food court at the mall downtown, not far from where they currently were. He knew that the first ones to enter the dungeon would receive abilities and classes beyond what was made available to those who came later.

  Additionally, something they had learned in his other time was that the world grew more dangerous every time someone entered the dungeon, as a monster was released elsewhere to wander the earth maiming and killing until put down. If he was going to do things differently, he would need to get into the dungeon first, and maybe if this time he could keep his father alive, the man would have benefits.

  Seraph had never needed anyone in the dungeon, but he could always use trustworthy allies, though he had no problems using the stick and carrot to coerce cooperation, he preferred actual loyalty. He looked at the man and smiled, his mind made-up.

  "Sorry, dad. I didn't mean to worry you. I’m just groggy and have a lot on my mind. You know, I was thinking, since the traffic is so bad, and we haven't done anything in a while, maybe we could pull off the road and head to the mall? I’d like to see this new game shop that opened up. Maybe hit up some food. You know mom really liked that smoothie place down at the food court."

  The man gave a half-smile, "Yeah, she did." Seraph was pleased the man had taken the bait. "Your mom loved that little smoothie bar, everything certified organic and paired with coconut milk. You know she'd tell me. Paul, you just have to try this, it's just so good. I mean, it was never good, but she loved it, and though I wasn't a fan, it made her happy. I don't mind us taking a little detour, it’d be good for us, let’s hit it up."

  "Sure, dad. I'd like that." It seemed Seraph's plan would work, but he was worried. Stuck in the car, he had not been able to test this new body of his to see what his limits would be. He was confident he would be able to deal with whatever threat he might face initially but was still very uncomfortable with the uncertainty of it. He was also uncertain about how to proceed with his father and what chain of events might be set in motion by altering his fate. Seraph knew that the time his father had left alive was short if he did nothing. This was the day a pack of Hell Hounds released from the dungeon would rampage along the highway, his father had been one of their victims, his throat torn out and his body mauled. Even armed with his foreknowledge, Seraph knew he would not be strong enough to fight off the pack.

  "How far out are we anyway?” Asked, Seraph trying to speed things along.

  "Well, kiddo, your mom would have never approved, but since I'm going to be riding the shoulder, ‘should be about 3 minutes give or take. Normally I wouldn’t do this, but this traffic isn’t moving at all. If nothing else we can go browse some shops after we eat and wait for the roads to open up later when traffic has died down, it’s a good idea."

  Seraph checked the clock on the dashboard, 12:57, he didn't trust his memory to know the exact details, but he was pretty sure the dungeon had appeared sometime after the lunch rush had died down. Not many people had gotten that initial bonus for being the 1st to enter, it wasn't just limited by how many, it was a limited-time deal.

  "Alright, kiddo, we're here." Said Paul as he pulled his car into the parking lot. "I'm going to walk around and help you get out, so take it easy, alright?"

  Seraph felt anger towards the man, he of all people did not require help. He had fought his way through the dungeon, getting out of a vehicle was nothing for him. "I'm fine, dad, I’m not a child who needs you to watch over my every move." He angrily swung the door open and let himself out, his legs unresponsive he landed on the pavement scraping his hands as he braced his fall.

  He had forgotten how frail this body had been. His legs mere bone and skin, not an ounce of fat and even less muscle. He was weak and already struggling when he hadn’t even reached the dungeon yet, and then that man. That damnable man stood over him, grabbed him, scooping him up, a mix of concern and sympathy on his face. Neither of which Seraph wanted.

  "It's ok, I got you. You have got to be careful, Luca. I know you hate it and I hate it for you but being reckless and angry is only going to get you more hurt." Explained Paul.

  Seraph looked at him, every bit resentful and angry.
The man saw the look and responded sheepishly. "I know you don't like to be reminded, but you’re not quite as mobile as you used to be, and you tire out so easily now. Try to look on the bright-side though kiddo, it wasn't that long ago we would never have been able to do something like this, it’s a testament to how good the therapy is that you’ve been doing. I just wish your mom was still around to see it."

  Everything clicked together, and Seraph remembered. The accident, he had been in an accident. He survived it and but lost the use of his legs, survived when his mother didn't. That was it, the secret he had kept hidden in his other life, in the past. He had been like those who he would later condemn to die, weak, broken, and defenselessness. Like a mad dog, he had gone out of his way to never be reminded of that, much to the detriment to those who had been like him. Doing what he could to kill those who reminded him of his previous weakness as he found them and when he found them.

  "Alright, dad.” Said Seraph, “I'll take it easy, but do you think we can maybe spend most of the day here? I think I'd like to hit up the arcade at the food court. Besides, it's better than having you pushing me around the whole time.”

  "Sure," said Paul giving him a sympathetic look. "That's fine. I've got a few bucks on me too. If memory serves, you can pretty much beat anything in an arcade with enough quarters and time. We could even try this new escape room I've seen advertised."

  “Perfect.” Thought Seraph, maybe this wouldn't be impossible, and together they went inside as Seraph looked at all the people moving about their business shopping and browsing, unaware of how their lives would soon change.

  Seraph was unsure as to how much time they had before the dungeon would appear but knowing it would be soon he decided to simply enjoy the moment, he knew the years to come would be difficult, he could let himself enjoy this. He did not need to miss out on simple comfort after decades of going without it. As he and his father sat down and ate their smoothies, he held no regrets, it would not make him weaker to enjoy this last comfort while comfort still existed.