Apocalypse: Generic System Macronomicon (miss read books TXT) 📖

“Gah,” Jeb blinked the words out of his sight moments before another text rolled in front of his eyes.

Representatives of Mestikos are now going to stream a live interview with their leader, the man who achieved this historic event, the pinnacle of humanity.

Jeb glanced around, but didn’t see any ‘representatives of Mestikos’ there to interview him.

Suddenly an image appeared on the wall in front of Jeb.

There, displayed on the wall in front of him, was Freeman, looking distinctly uncomfortable, trying to sit in a chair that was much too small for him.

“Were m’I s’posed ta look ‘gin?” Freeman asked. “‘Dere?  Dat’s a camera? Don’ look like any camera I eva’ seen.”

Jeb couldn’t help but laugh as the old man gave the camera a nervous smile, his few remaining teeth making an appearance.

Pinnacle of humanity, indeed.

The interview was colorful, and Jeb watched it while he tried to pry a pipe off the cheap headboard to use as a cane. They asked questions like, ‘what was it like’, ‘how many people were in it’, ‘where was it,’

Jeb was surprised to realize it was the first information the public had gotten about the Impossible tutorial in…ever. Which was odd, because they had people working eight hour shifts seemingly managing the tutorial.

Finally they came to the end of the interview while Jeb was wrapping a length of cloth around the top of the pipe to stop it from biting into his palm.

“So, Freeman, how did you manage to beat the impossible tutorial?” the lipless alien said, holding a gem closer to Freeman.

“Me?” Freeman asked, cocking a bushy grey brow. “Ah didn’t beat it, ah got lucky. Dere were alotta tuff sumbitches in dere, and the toughest one o’ all is de one what beat dat fools errand. Ahdunno why e’ ain’t here wit us, but de sumbitch who actually beat it, his name is –“

The picture blinked out.

Hmm… Politics, maybe?  Jeb didn’t know whether to be insulted or relieved that they censored his name. Sure, it rankled, but Jeb’s goal had always been to survive, not win some kind of medal, and he’d done what he’d set out to do. Plus, without the System, he was a bit of a sitting duck, so the less people who knew who he was, the better.

Jeb could tell he didn’t have the System anymore. He should have been strong enough to tear the bed frame apart, but it took nearly ten minutes to wrangle his new cane off.

He should have been smart enough to know exactly what to do next, perceptive enough to hear what was going on outside without even trying.

The core in his chest should burn like a star.

Jeb hobbled over to the window, awkwardly putting his weight on the cane as he hopped.

He drew back the chintzy motel curtains and peered into the dark.

There was the familiar parking lot, filled with familiar cars, each of them looking as though they’d spent a month in the sun, rain and dirt.

Beyond the parking lot however, the land was drastically different. The lush Oregon wilderness had been replaced with arid desert. In the distance, Jeb could barely make out the glittering lights of a city where before, the view had been nothing but green mountainside.

“Guess we’re not in Kansas anymore,” Jeb muttered, back in survival mode. He couldn’t stay here and starve to death, he had to get to the city and take his chances, but first he had to take care of something urgent.

Joe hobbled out the door and down to the office of the building, where he came across a vending machine, taunting him with king-sized Snickers bars behind tough glass.

If the vending machine hasn’t been busted into, then this place probably hasn’t been raided by humans yet. That means…

Jeb hobbled behind the counter and into the office, and after a little digging through the supply closet, found an excellent crowbar, just the right size to serve as a new cane/weapon.

He took his new find back to the vending machine and smashed it in, squinting against the shards of glass flying through the air.

It took several good hits, and Jeb nearly fell over half a dozen times, but he finally got the glass out of the way of his prize.

Jeb piled snickers bars up in his hand then sat down at the creaky table in the lobby. He read the label, looking for weight.

NET WT 3.7 OZ

Let’s see, sixteen ounces to the pound. If we rounded up, it would be four bars. Four times point three is one point two, so a third of a bar remainder.

Jeb carefully stacked four Snickers bars on the table, then hacked off a third of the fifth one, setting it on top of the other four.

“All yours, Smartass.”

Jeb stared at the pile, but the fairy didn’t show up to claim her prize. Jeb had kind of assumed there was some kind of magical connection implied with the ‘one pound of candy per month’ deal. God knew he felt compelled to honor the agreement. He was hoping the fairy would be able to find him through it.

“Well, maybe there’s travel time,” Jeb thought aloud, glancing at the coffee machine as he scratched his stump. I wonder… he looked over at the other vending machine, narrowing in on the beautiful brown bottled coffee.

Coffee Good. Jeb need coffee.

He was about to get up and liberate something to drink from the neighboring vending machine, when he glanced back at the table and noticed that the one-third of a snickers bar had vanished.

“Smartass?” Jeb asked, glancing around the room. Nothing.

When he looked back at the pile, another of the bars had vanished.

“I see how it is,” Jeb muttered, going over to the coffee machine and grabbing a fistful of