Brin opened his eyes to an unusually familiar sight. This was home, his home from before, the living room of the nice single-bedroom apartment. Everything was exactly as he remembered it. The carpet, the paint, everything was still like new because only he had ever lived here. The armchair matched the sofa and fit with the coffee table and the TV stand. He’d bought them all together with his first paycheck after college, still flush with the novelty of being able to afford things like new furniture. His gaming computer on a sleek, black desk with a trendy gaming chair–it wasn’t nearly as comfortable as the commercials claimed. Regular office chairs were honestly better for sitting for long periods of time.

The dining table, too big for him eating alone, but perfect for the weekly game night with his friends. It didn’t hurt to remember them, even though he’d never see them again. A fun group, but he couldn’t really say they were close.

For a moment, he wanted to pretend that he was really here. That he’d fallen asleep in his chair and that he’d dreamed the whole thing. [Know What’s Real] wouldn’t even let him pretend. He knew this wasn’t real. This was a dream, or illusion, or vision.

He stood up and went to the mirror, the one on the wall that he’d bought with some other random decorations he’d bought when people started asking why his walls were all so bare. In the mirror, he saw Brin’s scarred face staring back at him. He still had the bruise on one side and the adhesive bandage on the other, though he couldn’t really feel either.

He suddenly felt sick with anger at being here. This was Class Selection. The System had created this little mind palace. Why? To make him feel at ease? It was rank manipulation.

He calmly, carefully went over to the dining table, picked up a chair, and hurled it at the wall, shattering it.

He had been so close. He had almost gotten Magic I. Was that really too much to ask? The broken chair disappeared, and reappeared at its place at the table. Apparently, this space wasn’t going to indulge in his tantrums. He took deep breaths, trying to force the rage down.

This was Tawna’s plan again. Go into Class Selection angry and upset, and he’d definitely pick an evil Class, right? Well, he was upset, but knowing he was angry didn’t make it go away.

He heard a knock at the door, and it opened before he answered it.

Mark walked in. It was him, looking as he did in his old life. Somehow too skinny and too fat at the same time, his sandy blonde hair already balding.

The strangest part was what he was wearing–nothing but lederhosen. No shirt or socks either, just the shorts-suspenders combo that German children used to wear. They weren’t real leather, either; they looked like he’d bought them from a halloween costume store.

He went to the fridge and pulled out an orange creme soda, and then sat at the table and looked at Brin.

“Honestly, I don’t know where to start. Um. Hi. Welcome to Class selection?”

Brin frowned. “Hi. Who are you supposed to be? And can we do this later? I kind of had plans.”

“Ok, let’s start there. First off, I feel you. I really do. It sucks what just happened.”

Brin fumed, walking across the floor of the living room that now felt too small. “It sucks? That’s all you can say? I was so close. Why would she do this? What could I have possibly done to earn this ridiculous level of sabotage from her?”

“When I think about it,” said the lederhosen Mark, “everything she’s ever done to me hasn’t been because of what I’ve done, but because of what I could do in the future, or not do. I think it’s safe to assume this is to prevent some kind of bad future. The guess that she somehow figured out that I was planning on skipping town and that she needs Hogg here seems the most likely to me.”

“Why are you saying it like that, like you were the one that this happened to?” asked Brin.

“I’m you. You can call me the Child.”

“Yeah, because that makes sense,” said Brin. He was irritated to find that it actually did make sense. [Know What’s Real] pointed it out; in some strange way, he was talking to himself. “What could she possibly gain from this? It isn’t just me this time. She screwed over the entire town with this stunt. People treat System Day like their wedding day and college graduation all wrapped up in one. This is going to piss everyone off. Why would the Prefit fall for that?”

“It’s not just that,” said the Child. “Hogg is going to murder her. He’s been sticking up for me recently, and even if he hadn’t been, do you really think he’s the type of person who’s fine letting himself be manipulated to this degree? This isn’t just mean, it’s stupid.”

“Exactly. I honestly don’t see how she thinks she’ll get away with it,” said Brin. “By triggering System Day, she’s completely stopped Hogg’s ability to track down the army. Or maybe that was the point. Are we completely sure she isn’t allied with the [Witches]? Hogg seemed pretty certain she wasn’t, and the visions I saw on her weaving showed her dead with the rest of the town. But I can’t think of anything else that would explain it. Maybe this is all just about getting me killed. Maybe she assumed Hogg would leave me to fend for myself and that I’d be comatose on the forest floor, perfect pickings for some monster to come along.”

“You really think this is all some complex plan to get a monster to kill me?” asked the Child.

“I think it’s a win-win for her either way. Either I die and her visions clear up, or I bring back word of the army.” Brin stopped pacing back and forth and slumped into the armchair. “Well, I could sit here making guesses all day, but we really won’t know until we get back to town. Let’s just get this over with. How do I select a Class?”

“Oh, buck up. You missed one achievement that you wanted, but you still have an incredible start. I don’t think there are even very many noble kids with as good a start as you. But yeah, time’s wasting. I already introduced myself. I’m the Child. I’m here to represent the possibility of choosing the [Child] Class. I’m you, but mostly I’m the you that would choose [Child].”

“If I choose [Child] I’ll go back to looking like I did before? And what’s with the lederhosen? Why aren’t you wearing a shirt? Don’t tell me you’re going commando.”

“Then I won’t tell you,” said the Child with a wink. “I think your subconscious couldn’t imagine that you would choose my Class, so it had a hard time coming up with what that would look like. But don’t worry! The other guys will get here soon. We just figured I’d come on ahead and explain how this is going to work. And by ‘we’ I mean ‘you’. We’re all you. Different possibilities of you, based on what you choose today.”

“You’re really nailing this,” said Brin.

“Well sorry,” said the Child. “I didn’t get any time to prep, ok? I’ve only existed for like two minutes. Or I’ve existed your whole life, because–”

“Because you’re me. Got it,” said Brin.

The Child chugged his orange creme soda, straight down. Then he got up and grabbed himself another. Those were the expensive brand, so he had to drive to a special store in the city for them. He didn’t complain, though, because they weren’t even real.

The Child slammed his empty bottle on the table. “Alright, so first things first. Where are we? This is your soul space. It can be anywhere, but we decided on a place that would feel comfortable and familiar to you.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t choose Hogg’s place, or my earth parents’ house.”

“Hogg’s house is Hogg’s house. It needs to be your place. As for your parents' house, this should be a time of self-reflection, not a time for breaking down and crying about all the stuff you miss. Which reminds me, time is moving at a normal rate in the real world. We should be able to discuss all your options, but we can’t stay in here forever.”

Brin shrugged. “Fair enough. So tell me about [Child], I guess?”

“Yeah, for sure, but first, why don’t we look at all the other stuff, first? As of now, your System is unlocked. You finally get to see what those titles you’ve been lugging around actually do.

On cue, the notifications appeared.

Title unlocked: Survivor of Travin’s Bog

You survived the massacre at Travin’s Bog that ended your family.

+50% resistance to heat, cold and poison.