WorldFall: Echoes of Extinction

System's Debt

Tears streamed down Neemo's eyes as he crawled into the shack, his hands hovering through the emptiness.

The straw mat, the cracked water pot, even the rusted nails he used to hang his clothes. Everything was gone!

His fingers dug into the earth in the corner of the shack. He scraped away the soil frantically, ignoring the pain as blood trickled from his fingertips.

A deep and tired breath escaped his lungs as he saw the material was intact — a paper scrolled into a cylindrical metal casing.

He had little to no idea of what it was, but his parents had always kept it safe, claiming it was important and his grandfather's life work.

'Project Chimera: Anthropocene Integration’

Neemo pulled his eyes off the heading as he couldn't really understand it. The rest of the document was even worse, filled with complicated words and strings of decimal numbers that meant nothing to him.

He leaned against one of the pillars which creaked at his little weight. The tears continued down his eyes, but he didn't make a sound. In his seventeen years of life, he had learned that there were things even wailing couldn't change. 

It wasn't unusual for a shack to be swept clean while its owner was away. The settlement was desperately short of everything needed to survive. Anything left unattended was an invitation to theft.

In the silence of the evening, interrupted by the sounds of the rain, he could hear Alessia's elder sister shouting at her and Alessia yelling at her younger sister in turn. Elias laughing, probably showing off the watch.

His stomach growled in hunger, making his mind drift to the steamed potatoes he had prepared in the morning, which only made the hunger worse. In resignation, he chose to go over the affairs of the day to keep his mind off hunger.

Just then, the familiar strings of words appeared again.

[The Apocalypse System]

[Name: Neemo Evandesh]

[Age: 17]

[Exp: -20]

[Stats]

[Spd: 4]

[Per: 5]

[Str: 2]

[Agi: 3]

Skills

[Second Wind (Lv 1)]

Definition: A footwork protocol that recycles wasted kinetic energy into the legs via muscle channels.

Effect:

- On Activation: +1 SPD

- Momentum: After 15 consecutive steps, +10% SPD. Can chain.

- Stack: Each 10 steps adds another 10% (max +50% at Lv 1).

Cost:

- 3 EXP to activate

- 5 EXP per 20 steps to maintain

- If chain breaks (if host stops moving), stacks reset.

[Glitch (Lv 1)]

Definition: Allows host to exploit sync latency between reality and the Mother Wave.

Effect: For 0.3s, ONE selected body part ceases to exist in the material world, allowing host to phase through matter.

Cost: 10 EXP

Cooldown: 7 Days

While Neemo wasn't much of a literate, he wasn't stupid. In fact, he was an intelligent teenager who had survived the cruel world from a young age. It only took a few minutes of staring and weird word pronunciations to understand what was happening.

He had been connected to the Mother Wave and had gotten a system!

But amidst the supposed happiness, confusion lingered.

Being a System User was indeed a ticket to get into the Stronghold, but no System User had ever returned, and those that resisted were taken by force.

The Stronghold made his mouth water. He had heard rumours of free education within its walls, an opportunity he had never imagined for himself. 

Still, the fear of the unknown lingered at the back of his throat. The pain from his acid burns and the gnawing emptiness in his stomach weren't helping him think clearly.

He waved off the System display, only for more words to appear.

[Debt Protocol: Active]

[Feature Unlocked: LoanShark]

[Emergency Loan: 50 Exp]

[Interest Rate: 20% per 24 hours]

[Recommended Purchase: Pain Suppression, Basic Healing Potion]

His face brightened up in the darkness.

His arms were burning. The affected skin was covered in angry, blister-like marks, resembling plastic exposed slightly to a flame. 

_Even the Churches inside the Stronghold only collect 20 percent and that is per week. Isn't per day too ruthless?_

He weighed the offer in silence. It was highway robbery, but he was tempted. The physical pain entangling with mental exhaustion was becoming unbearable.

[Auto Purchase: Pain Suppression - 5 Exp]

[Auto Purchase: Basic Healing Potion - 10 Exp]

[Remaining Exp: 15 Exp]

Instantly, the hissing pain subsided almost instantly. The burn marks were still there, but at least it wasn't stinging.

Hours passed by in silence, and he eventually drifted to sleep. Soon the sun rose again, its pale light cutting through the thick clouds with all its might.

Neemo staggered out of the shack, a smile on his sunken face. The pain in his arm had disappeared totally, all that was left were reddish burn marks.

He marched to the single tap in the settlement. Unfortunately, he was already late, and a long queue had already formed.

The tap was the only reliable source of water in the settlement. The closest alternative was a stream several miles away.

“One bucket per person. Come back tomorrow.” A voice barked at the front of the queue.

“I didn't come for water yesterday. I need both today.” The person barked in return.

The loud voice was followed by a grunt. Neemo didn't need to get a view to know the person was being taught a lesson.

The grunts soon turned into screams and then pleas, but the beatings continued, and no one made a move to stop them.

The tap pipeline ran straight from the Stronghold, and it was heavily monitored by the settlement's self-chosen leaders, but no one opposed them. The Stronghold had once shut down the water supply because they “used too much water for a scavenger.”

Not wanting such a disaster to repeat itself, the monitoring had swung into existence.

“Good Morning, Neemo.” A voice called his attention. He turned to meet a somewhat stout man in his late 30s. Unlike the other scavengers, his face wasn't as dirty and he wore a faded mining uniform.

“Good Morning, Uncle Benson.” He said, “I was just about to find you. I would like to work in the mine today.”

“Why's that?” Uncle Bob asked instantly.

“I have no food.” He gritted his teeth, his mind playing scenes of what he would do to the thieves who had emptied his shack, if he ever found them.

He would tie them up, roast them like barbecues, then leave them under acid rain, and then slam their heads against the ground, and then…

He forced the thought aside.

“Food… I heard you and your friends were… fortunate yesterday.” Benson said slowly.

Neemo froze, his eyes squinting as he fully turned to Uncle Benson, “Oh, that was nothing much. How… how did you know about that?"

"No one in particular. I just happened to hear something." Benson's tone remained casual. "If you find anything precious, I wouldn't advise keeping it. Bring it to Uncle. I'll make sure you get a fair price."

“... Alright.” He said slowly, his gaze lifting off Uncle Benson to the line.

Neemo's gaze soon steered off the line to the air, Uncle Benson's silence and cheap wine breath pressing against him.

“Stronghold Soldiers!” The shout rippled through the quiet, like a stone tossed into a calm pond. Not long after, the 'hums’ of engines filtered into his ears, his confused expression warped to attention at the approaching machinery wonder of the Stronghold.

He had once heard from the miners that the vehicles could outrun humans. The vehicles only came into the settlement once in three months, and they always headed for the mine near the border of the Radlands.

Three Offroad military trucks cruised into view, their headlights peering forward under the sunlight like searching eyes. The big rubber tires gripped the earth tight. Behind them, the suspension rings coiled and boiled, bearing the heavy weight.

“It’s beautiful.” Neemo said to Uncle Benson wide-eyed, only for him to notice the bald headed man was walking towards the soldiers, a smile plastered on his face.

“Listen Up!” A soldier's voice boomed as he jumped off the truck. His boots struck the ground and the suspension absorbed the impact smoothly. “Who is the leader here?”

He scanned the scavenger, disgust plain on his face.

“Are you scavengers deaf?” Another soldier walked out of the truck, pointing his rifle at them.

“Noble Soldiers. We… have no leader. What brings you here?” Uncle Benson said, his voice smooth like he had rehearsed the speech.

The soldier looked at Uncle Bob, “You are the Radlands Head Miner?”

Uncle Benson nodded eagerly, his chest puffing out slightly at the acknowledgement. By now a crowd had gathered by the tap.

“Great. News has reached us about a particular find from the Radlands. It's too precious to be in the hands of lowly lives. The Stronghold demands it.”