Reincarnation Trials: A LitRPG Apocalypse (Systems of Salvation Book 1)

by Han Yang

  “Are you ready for another round of the Reincarnation Trials?” Fen asked, using the light conversation to pass the time.

  The intense forest held many hidden nooks and crannies. Ayla tried to keep us on defined game trails, even spooking a random chicken. Life found a way, or it tried to. In a sense, this was a rebalancing.

  I vaulted over a fallen tree, keeping up the pace and replied, “Yeah, absolutely. I feel a bit guilty. The pressure is on big time for me to succeed again. I had just settled down to start losing points for the sake of stability. Sitting there in the mines was perfectly okay with me, but yeah, the other competitors would have caught up to me in points for the Trial went for a whole year.”

  I ran under a tree root and a frond smacked me that Ayla released. Our blistering pace felt like a light jog with the suit helping.

  “That’s not how Snagglewood worked. Granted, not all realms are survival realms, but there are cases where orcs invade a string of farming settlements. Okay, pretty simple. Defeat the orcs, save the settlements, protect the farming supplies, preserve the crops, and earn the most points.

  “There’s also times where there’s an invasion that sweeps through the land so fast, you can’t stop it. It’s meant to cut you off. That is the survival scenario. If you can keep people alive in the no man’s land until the threat is contained, you get all sorts of points.

  “Of course, if you don’t flee when you get an opening you lose points by not taking an escape avenue. The best bet is to be on the front fighting the war. Hiding is tough because making the right choice is subjective. Whereas, chopping off an orcs head for example, is guaranteed points,” Ayla said.

  “Basically, you would have not only won you would have won by such a rate the others would have never come close,” Fen said. “The vote to suspend the competition came with the clear delineator that you were going to win. Darcy didn’t want any doubt.”

  “Ah, you see her as I do?” I guessed. “Manipulative.”

  Jenny snickered, exiting her side conversation with Desmund. “We all do. The question is - who should rule humanity, Darcy or a human? It always leads to one human. In this case, there is no true option. Darcy or her lackey.”

  “Ouch,” I said. “Lackey is a bit much. I support Darcy over no Darcy for sure, but lackey hurts.”

  Desmund snickered. “Fear not, Theo. I barely know you, but you clearly have a good heart. Everyone who watched you in the Trials, or reviewed how you obtained first, noted your tireless effort, and kind soul. I don’t think very many people are oblivious to Darcy’s ways, they just pick her in the hopes of never dying. A human cannot do what she can.”

  “Earth still lost billions of people. The imprints are not everyone and it hurts to think about. What’s worse, if I had to guess, she’s done a body swap before, forever killing someone among the fleet,” I said.

  Ayla said, “Without a doubt. She admitted as much to me when I prodded her. I was given an option, leapt at the chance, and arrived in a body instantly. Like instantly and she grinned when I asked how often she did this.

  “In the end it doesn’t matter. I’m a person again and I saw the horrors this lady did in the name of power. Even if I’m taller, thinner, and less pretty, I’m thrilled to be alive and helping. At the same time, it’s startling, but I’m back and I shouldn’t be.”

  “I have to admit, losing Yilissa is easier to stomach than I thought,” I said.

  Desmund grunted before exhaling a long sigh. “Yeah well, she’s split her chain again. She’s dead and forever gone. A new imprint is going to be different. This is something I struggle with.

  “I’m dead. The real me is dead. Died scaling a wall because a gate wouldn’t open. The commander didn’t want to risk a breach, ordering us to scale to the perfect height for the enemy. And yet, I’m running through a forest, ready to fight all over again.”

  “You’re doing great, Dessie,” Jenny said.

  “Dessie?” I teased.

  “Go easy on him. He hated being dead and not being Desmond. So, I tease him, calling him Dessie,” Jenny said.

  “Except, I’m alive again. Maybe a new name will help, since I’m a new being. Not going to worry about it. I - I - I felt alive killing narocks and freeing those folks trapped in the webbing,” Desmund said in a gruff, yet prideful tone.

  “Ahmen,” Larry said.

  “In baby Jesus’ name,’ Fen added. “We pray.”

  “Too far, you took it too far,” Jenny said with a giggle. “Excuse us silly soldiers and our playful banter.”

  “I don’t mind. I’m a believer in the Creator. Some call him God. I tend to think there’s beings out there that play God. Therefore, the supreme being is above God status. He is the Creator. If that makes sense,” I said.

  “At least you don’t pray to Darcy,” Winston said. “As the head council member, that’d be odd.”

  “Yeah, I do have faith in her, but I can’t help but think something nefarious is resting in that warehouse, and a green crate is not the true purpose of our intrusion,” I said. “So, what is the new realm?”

  “No one knows. You won’t find out until you go in. Are you going Citizen or Pleasure?” Lenny asked.

  Ayla turned right, leaping onto a thick tree that crossed the gorge. I hopped up onto the trunk, following quickly behind her. One by one, we crossed the gap. As soon as we reached the other side, we continued for the green icon on our maps.

  “Citizen. Not that I’ve had to vote on anything yet, but I want a say. Plus, if anyone can reason with Darcy, it’s me. At least I hope so,” I said.

  A monstrous roar caused us to enter a quiet mode, readying for a fight I hope we didn’t have to take. The bellow was distant, but with narocks, you never knew.

  ∞∞∞

  “You have got to be kidding me,” I said in dismay.

  We arrived outside the target warehouse that was devoid of all overgrowth in a massive circle around the property. If I had to guess, they mowed the grass with an energy rifle to keep it a maximum ankle height.

  On the big warehouse’s exterior, a fresh blue told me it was recently painted, the doors hung on shiny hinges, and the interior lights shone brightly out of cleaned windows.

  I heaved out a breath of shock. This was like a goddamn beacon for narocks. Based on the skeletal remains I saw between us and the building, someone actively defended this place.

  The ground between us and the doors was a massive kill zone and it frightened me that I didn’t see how the warehouse defended itself. A single big narock should be able to stomp the roof and eat the residents, but, well, it hadn’t happened.

  “Darcy, do you read?” I asked.

  Silence.

  “I say again, Darcy, are you there?”

  Nothing.

  “Who the hell still has ammo to fight?” Ayla said in confusion. “I mean, maybe they have energy weapons, but… I don’t see any mega narocks piled around the building.”

  “I guess I’ll go knock,” I said. “I doubt they’ll mistake me for a monster.”

  I brazenly left the treeline with my hands up. The first few steps I feared I’d detonate on a mine or narock would leap from a tree to attack. Instead, I walked slowly forward.

  Motion caught my attention near the doors. A cover peeled back off a rock near the building, revealing a pillbox. Turrets swiveled to track me, and I sprinted right, heading for the trees.

  When I returned to the trees and it lost its tracking, the covers returned to becoming a rock.

  “Automated,” Desmund said, stating the obvious. “Jenny is a sniper, but we all have energy to spare.”

  “I’ll play bait,” Winston said.

  I went to object, but he already sprinted into the open. The turrets ejected from cover and a moment later, withering fire melted the defenses before they could eject a shot.

  Winston trotted back toward the treeline with a bit of a strut in his step.

  The doors to the warehouse burst open, rev
ealing a twenty-foot tall mecha. The machine bristled with about a dozen types of weapons, containing wings, jets, and even shimmered from a shield of some sort.

  “Declare yourself or die where you stand!” a voice bellowed across the distance.

  I stepped forward and broadcast, “I’m Theodore Karo, of the Salvation Fleet. I’m the current commander of the mission. I’ve been sent to retrieve a valuable item that is important to the -”

  “Darcy sent you,” the voice boomed, lowering the weapon it pointed.

  “I’m here because I need a green crate named Aramis,” I said.

  The mecha retracted its weapons and said, “You owe me a new turret. However, I’m disabling the defenses, we need to talk.”

  “Just me, or can we all come, there’s something big around,” I said.

  “A rexo’narock, yeah, it's a pet sorta. I feed it my kills. Best to come in, all of you. The Texas Federation wouldn’t be caught dead in such archaic suits. Which you’re lucky they didn’t kill you or rexy,” the mecha said.

  At some point, someone has to take that first step forward in building trust. I walked casually for the warehouse, picking up a trot once the others exited the treeline.

  The ruined turret sank into the rock frame, likely undergoing repairs. I watched tensely, worrying what might come next, but I reached the large warehouse doors with relative ease.

  When I entered, I arrived to see that the interior had more room than I expected. Bunks aligned on the right going four high. At least a hundred people could live here but only a few folks peeked from the covers.

  On the left I saw a communal area, a kitchen, a basketball hoop, and some private rooms. A half dozen people stood with confused faces as we entered, telling me we obviously weren’t expected.

  I decided to stay in my armor, following the machine along the big warehouse. The bunks transitioned into gear and supplies. Everything was meticulously neat and orderly. From raw materials to canned food.

  A final rear section contained a resting area for the mecha and a minor repair shop. Additional neatly organized shelves spoke of pristine organizational skills.

  “Took you long enough,” the mecha broadcast. The static crackling made me mostly certain I talked with a woman. “Darcy sent a message to all survivors who supported the Salvation Fleet to get to the Dominus. She said the grand ship was being refurbished and readied for space and to make ready for the day she arrived. Humanity was coming home.”

  “Ah, yes, she mentioned that to me as well. Said she was trying to get Dominus flight worthy as a gift to humanity. She never mentioned she received help,” I said.

  “Funny thing is, talking back to a ship in outer space that is five lightyears away - is pretty tough. I left North Dakota with a bag, a beamer, and an extra pair of boots. These are the folks I rescued along the way,” the mecha said. “All with the hope of seeing you.”

  I scanned the room, noticing the green crate was noticeably absent. The other survivors huddled at the edge of the mechanical shop, wary of me and my team.

  “North Dakota to Texas on foot, that is impressive,” I said, trying to convey the sentiment. “May I ask, how did you get the message?”

  “Not all made it and trust me I wished I could have flown,” she said. The mecha hissed, opening a rear exit. “I awoke in a cryopod someone had stuck me in because of my injuries when Leeds fell. I’ll never get to thank them either. Their skeleton rested on top of my shell.”

  Ayla said, “Oh shit! Call me Hariet.” On a private channel.

  “Uh, why?” I asked.

  Jenny hissed, “Do it. If it even comes up. That woman is a survivor. Ayla was a survivor. If there’s duplicates, don’t let her know.”

  I adjusted, trusting them, but feeling on edge. “Maybe I can help with that. Scientist from Leeds who saved… What was your name?”

  “Ayla Cohen, give me a moment, this mecha takes a minute to safely extract me,” she said.

  “I’m not here,” Jenny said privately.

  And there it was. The worry confirmed. I kept my cool and said, “Ayla Cohen. What a miracle. Members of Karo Team, I need to speak with General Cohen in private, go pull guard outside since we ruined the laser turret.”

  The others cued in, not loving the idea of leaving me behind. The private channel became busy with a side conversation about how there were two versions of Ayla Cohen. Well one was Ayla and the other went back to being Hariet.

  I turned them down, having to ask the real Ayla to repeat whatever she said because I missed it.

  “I’m not a General.”

  “Congratulations, you are now,” I said, shooing the others out of the warehouse with a flick of my wrist.

  Once they left, I unsealed my suit, letting it click, zip, and hiss as it came off. It was tricky to exit on my own, but I managed with grace, mostly. When I stood in my simple spacesuit Ayla stood with her hands on her unhappily.

  “What do you know?” she asked.

  This version was much prettier than the body the imprint was reborn into. She was the same stunning woman that I met in Snagglewood. I walked to the chair at an inventory and maintenance table.

  “I know a lot. Like, I’ve had access to the world's libraries. I know Darcy like a mother. I’m the reigning champion and most powerful man on the planet some may say. Not necessarily the smartest or the wisest either. At the moment, you have my full attention,” I said.

  “You don’t age, do you?”

  “I don’t,” I said, not telling her I was only twenty-one anyway. “Not in the traditional manner. Nanobots bring you to peak maturation age and then keep you there. When you reach that point, you’ll stop aging,” I said.

  She hesitantly sat across from me, sliding tools out of the way.

  “I was supposed to board Tranquility. How many survived?” she asked.

  I tapped the table, glancing over my shoulder. The others were pretending not to listen, but clearly were.

  “I know you. You have a sterling record. You performed countless missions with bravery. I don’t know them and we’re in hostile territory,” I said.

  “Interesting. You would brag if they all lived,” Ayla said. She slid over a piece of paper with an old-fashioned number 2 pencil. “I’ll burn it after. Why are you promoting me?”

  We lost under 5k to a terrorist attack just today. We’re over two hundred thousand survivors. Promotion because morale to actually fight is at almost 0.

  “Sad, great, and bad. Is there room for us?” she asked.

  “Yes. I was sent for a green crate with the words Aramis stenciled on them. I don’t see the crate,” I said.

  “Very observant of you. You are not the only one with a lot of knowledge. For instance, you’re not on any of the rosters for boarding the ships,” Ayla said.

  “I’m star-born. Next.”

  “Where’s the fancy tech?” she asked.

  “That is a mixed answer and I’ll answer openly. The issue from today caused a developing situation. We need supplies,” I said, trying to stay vague.

  “Supplies, meaning assets meant to betray the Texan Federation,” Ayla asked.

  I lost my poker face here. I openly frowned. “Darcy is secretive. I don’t know the Texas Federation. I know about them. But as I said, I’m star-born. As far as I know, none of our diplomatic teams have made contact with their holdouts. My orders were simple: grab the crate, bring it to Dominus,” I said.

  “Dominus is ruined.”

  “I assure you it is not. Darcy has been busy,” I said.

  “And she sent you, assuming your boasting was true,” Ayla said.

  I grabbed a wrench off the desk, bending it in half. The interior of my palms cut from the pressure. I set the folded wrench down and place my palms upward.

  Nanites knitted the skin together, slowly at first, even picking up my dripped blood.

  “Remarkable,” a husky voice said from a shelf behind Ayla. A two-foot tall humanoid robot revealed itself. “Yo
u’re a cyborg.”

  I glanced over my shoulder. The others grew more confident.

  Ayla cleared her throat and said, “These are my people. None of them even come from this region. We spent four years here together. I can tell which one farted when there’s passed gas, we’re that close. Team Aramis is firmly not aligned with the Texans, and we waited a long time to hear from Darcy. We feared she might have lost her sanity.”

  “Fine, I’ll play,” I said with a smirk. “Darcy is not sane. But she is not insane. She is an AI.”

  “As am I,” the robot said. “I’m Aramis. A droid meant to clean air ducts gifted from the Salvation Coalition to the Texas Federation. My job was to assimilate and ensure the Dominus stayed operational until I could link up with Darcy,” Aramis said.

  I laughed at this. Whole heartedly laughed until it became rude. Eventually I calmed and said, “You have to understand. I don’t think that you’d have lived long after that reunion. Darcy doesn’t share power.”

  “She’d never take an action so drastic. We’re gifts beyond all others.”

  “I laughed because it all makes sense now. She needs you more than ever. We have AI killers on our ship. Darcy has died,” I said. “And yet she lives.”

  The robot froze, computing this information. “You’re in trouble,” Aramis concluded.

  “Deep. We have a ship that’s downed about twenty miles from here. The rest of the fleet is landing to either shift personnel to Dominus, or to establish a base,” I said.

  “The Texas Federation will shit a brick,” Ayla said.

  “Is it Texas or Texan, I keep hearing both.”

  Ayla paused Aramis to talk first, “Because it is both. I’ve run into them more times than I’d have liked. Each time, they have camo suits and if I didn’t get lucky, I’d be dead. That first meeting I met a man who fancied my looks. He popped up a few feet away with hands up, having us dead to rights.

  “He offered us sanctuary, assuming we swore allegiances, and went through a probation period. I told him about my mission for the Salvation Fleet, only saying I needed to prepare for your arrival. He didn’t believe me.