Lair by Carl Stubblefield (recommended reading TXT) 📕

the mindless task, he questioned Nick if he had any more ideas about his transformation at level ten, but Nick had nothing more that would illuminate what had happened. A stat boost of ten per stat except twenty for luck was huge!

“Nick, I remember you mentioning something about luck a while back, could you explain a bit more?” He grunted a bit as he wiggled a sensor past some roots and vegetation until it drove a spike into the ground, securing it.

“Gus, big explanations aren’t really my jam. I differ from the old man in that way, but I guess I can give it a go. But I’m only going to explain this once, so pay attention. Got it?”

“Sure, shoot,” Gus agreed, sitting back on his heels to listen without distraction.

“Ok, I’m going to ask you a riddle. What loses its head in the morning and gains it again after it gets dark?”

“Hmm, a flower?” Gus guessed.

“No,” Nick said without emotion.

“Give me a hint.”

“That’s not how riddles work, Gus. You have to work it out in your mind. I can answer yes and no, but I’m not going to give you the answer. Trust me, it’s much more gratifying when you figure it out yourself.”

“Is it something that’s alive?” Gus moved down the path to find another sensor site.

“This isn’t twenty questions, Gus!” Nick taunted, obviously enjoying Gus’ difficulty.

“The sun?”

“Nope.”

“Hmm, some kind of animal?” Gus asked hopefully.

Nick just remained silent. Gus’ mind kept returning to think of different kinds of flowers, that maybe opened their petals when the sun came out and then curled up again after it went down.

“So what are you thinking right now?”

“I can’t stop thinking about flowers.”

“Exactly! That’s precisely how the luck stat works.” Nick finished grandly, as if he had just elucidated the world’s biggest mystery.

“Huh? That makes no sense at all.”

“Well, despite years of Nth trying to influence human culture, they couldn’t remove the superstition related to luck from the collective consciousness. So we modified part of the interpretation of luck and applied it to useful metrics.”

“So what’s up with the riddle?” Gus wondered aloud.

“You know how once you started thinking about a single thing, your mind kept wanting to go there, even though you knew it wasn’t the right answer?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, in a similar way, most humans have a certain expectation about reality and what can and should happen. Some people are positive, some negative. By and large, this belief influences what actually happens in reality. There are a lot of possibilities that can happen with your choices. Will things turn out? Or fail? Utilizing this aspect humans consider luck, one can actively select a future reality that is more pleasant.

“This control over quantum chance is not something that Nth can control or augment. Just because someone has a great capability to change their reality does not mean they automatically will. And often due to their emotions, people with great capacity squander this ability. There are vast shifts in probabilities as optimism and hope or pessimism and despair increase or reduce which reality actually comes into existence.

“So I could be a lot more lucky than my stats say I am,” Gus said with excitement.

“That’s not what I said. It’s not the size of your luck, it’s what you do with it.”

“That’s what—”

“No, it’s not. It’s never what anyone says, and you know it. I will say that ether can be influenced by thought. Just as ether is a form of matter that humans can’t physically measure yet, thought is a form of energy that hasn’t been detected and quantified as an energy source among humans. It functions in the same way electricity powers all sorts of electronics. Thought energy can be used in a variety of ways by a trained mind. Humans actually have been using it for centuries before Nth even appeared to influence humankind. Stew on that for a while and surprise me, kid.” Nick’s tone indicated he was done discussing the subject.

Gus’ thoughts kept returning to the unlikely probabilities that made it possible for him to reach the island, the concentration of coincidences that aligned so that he could be where he was, doing what he was doing. Was that his doing? Or someone elses?

He wondered if being unconscious was crucial so he wouldn’t sabotage himself. Deep down at his core, he knew he had always wanted to have powers and to be accepted by his family. He hated admitting that, but it was true. The desire to show his father and brother that he wasn’t just a waste of space was there, always lurking in the shadows. Until Gus’ powers had arrived, he had never thought about consciously changing his destiny. The old adage, be careful what you wish for, was apparently true. His father’s words reverberated in his mind. Think what you’ve always thought and you’ll get what you’ve always got.

Gus got a mental break as he saw he was nearing the end of his supply of sensors. The path widened as the jungle canopy retreated. At the end of the path, a large mountain extended up from the canopy and Gus could see it was the foot of the volcano. The hardened magma had split in two, resembling the Scream mask as a cave entrance yawned into the darkness.

Gus felt uneasy being this close to the cave opening, and the likely lair of the zombies. There were still a few birds and other jungle sounds, but a trickle of sweat rolled down his back and he licked his lips at the sight of it. Trying to make as little noise as possible, Gus finished pressing the top of the last sensor and made his way back down the trail. He ran all the way back, spamming Dash once he was far enough away not to make too much noise.

Chapter Thirty-One

Doomsday

Day 9 7:39 AM

1:15:31 remaining

Gus awoke with a start, feeling a growing sensation of dread. Checking his minimap he saw nothing wrong, although he noticed he could