Lana Christine

"It's just a little thing that I've been doing on the side, nothing big," I said, closing my laptop.

Lana sat across from me, reading a book on musical theory. She was in her second year of classical music in university. I had decided it would be best for me to work. I didn't get accepted into any of the sports teams in college (not like I was really aiming for it). My side business had boomed since high school, and I made good money from the students at Lana's university. She was my ticket in, and I spread my net like a fisherman and caught a haul.

"I told you I'm fine. It's just rumours. I know you been writing essays and papers for people since high school," she said, not taking her eyes off her book.

"You knew about it in high school," I asked, grabbing the tv remote and putting my feet up on the coffee table.

"People talk, Jamie. Nothing stays secret forever."

"Tell that to CIA."

"I'm sure they already know." I poked her side, and she giggled. "Stop." I did it again, and she tried her best to keep it all in. "Jamie."

"Is that book more interesting than me," I said, abandoning the idea of tv and trying to snuggle up.

"Uh, yes."

"You don't mean that." I poked her some more till I was able to wrap my arms around her. I pulled her on top of me and started kissing her neck.

"Jamie," she said, not refusing me (she was enjoying it as much as I was). "I need to study."

"So do I. It would seem that I have forgotten what you looked like without clothes on."

"Maybe you need a reminder."

I jolted awake. "A dream," I thought, "More like a memory."

I glanced around the room and noticed the strange woman bathing in the water I had drunk out of.

"Gross," I said.

"When you live here, you don't complain," the woman said. She was at least thirty to forty meters away from me, but she heard me as clear as if I was right next to her.

I found myself sitting on the stone bed. It wasn't cold like I had thought but was warm and comfortable.

"How're you feeling?"

I balled my hand into a fist tightly and then released it.

"Better, I guess."

"Why don't you check your stats?"

"Status," I said, and a green screen appeared before me. It was almost see-through like the blue screens, but this one wasn't cracked. My level was still one, but my stats were positive again. Each stat at ten, and my growth had jumped up to four times. What struck me more than my increased growth was the titles I had obtained. The first was the Mask, a title I had gained after many fights and battles with people I have copied skills from.

I had worn a mask to hide my face from strangers; I wasn't wearing it in the fight, my sisters. I had put it away since I was going home. It drew more attention than it was worth.

The second title (which was above the Mask title) was Administrator. I knew exactly what that meant. I was now in charge. There was even a tab for all the skills in the system. That was when I learned what it was made for.

I admit that Drykena was a deity and strong one at that. There was no way for the system to make the administrator powerful. You couldn't hack your way to the top, such as changing health or strength values. Just like it was on earth, you had to work hard to get strong.

The system's strength came with the ability to share it with others. It was made to gain followers and thus creating an army that you could call your own. Meaning every individual on the planet who had the system could be manipulated and forced to fight for Drykena. Because everyone on the planet used the system. They are born with it.

"Looks like it works," the woman said, approaching me. I quickly looked away.

"Geez! You could at least put some clothes on," I said.

"Relax, we're all adults here."

"Still, please."

"It's my cave. Deal with it."

I kept my head turned away. I could hear her getting closer, the water dripping off her toned body and plopping onto the floor. Curling the dust on the ground in small balls of mud.

I had never really looked at her before. I was too busy dealing with the amount of information that was dumped on me. She wasn't old, but she sounded old. She looked at least in her thirties, but her skin was as young as a twenty-year-old.

"Are you dressed," I asked, and she sighed.

"Yes."

I turned around to see her still naked but now sitting by the table. I quickly turned away.

"What's wrong with you?"

"For a guy with no eyeballs, you seem to see very well."

I had forgotten about that. I had gotten too comfortable without realizing it. My body was still the blackened mess that it was—a starving mess.

"[Overseer]," I said, and the woman's status screen appeared before me. It was a red screen, but her name, stats, and titles were shrouded in question marks.

"You can't see my stats because I haven't given you access to my system."

"Is there more like us?"

"Of course, many other worlds have systems, or I think they do. Haven't left Rolrista, but I'm sure there other individuals with their own systems."

"We're the only ones on the planet that has their own system," I said, trying to keep my curiosity down.

"No, I am not the first to have the [Copywriter] skill, but you are the first earthling to have your own system."

"Now what?"

"What else have you copied?"

"Everything."

She laughed, howling. "You're like a kid in a candy shop. You want everything."

"I don't think I did anything wrong," I said.

"Of course not, but you've been living wrong."

Living wrong. The way she said it hurt my pride. It was all I ever knew of living. I would copy from the best, and that would pay my rent. I stole from everybody. Stole. I didn't change the way I lived from my old life. I just kept living it out in the open. I had lost my family just like how I had lost everything in my first life. Lana, what have I done to you?

"Can you teach me," I asked.

"I can't just release you back into the world like that. You look just like a demon."

"I'm not a demon."

"I know," she said. I could hear the sadness in her voice. She knew my pain. Being called something you weren't even though you begged to be recognized—an outcast. "But you need learn that you will never be one of them."

I glanced down at my hands. They were long, and my skin was clinging to my bones—the skin just a space black of emptiness.

"First thing I will teach you. You copy for a reason. You take to build something not to hoard, and then you make it yours."