Red, yellow, and purple triangle mosaics covered the floor. The walls and tables were decorated with all sorts of funny objects. And was it all my imagination? Everything seemed to be smaller.

I attempted to stand up. I didn’t know when it had started, but my head hurt. It felt like someone was attempting to use my head as a church bell. I stumbled, and lost my balance. Apparently my head wasn’t the only thing that had turned funny. I tried to stand up again, feeling like a newborn foal.

“Where am I? And-” Wait. I felt around my body, to feel something was strange. My clothes had changed. No dirty shirt and blue pants from Grandma. Instead I was wearing all white clothes frilly to the point it was almost ridiculous. What a waste of fabric. I touched my feet, marveling at the feel of silky socks on my skin. My wrists jangled with the sound of gold bracelets.

“Who am I?” I asked myself. My voice had also become much lower. It was even lower than my brother’s voice, and it was huskier than my dad’s. The headache was better now. I took a deep breath. This would take some time to get used to.

“Greetings, Host! I am System DB-9098a!” My eyes grew wide as I heard a voice.

There was nobody else here, I thought to myself. Maybe it was some sort of radio system? Or someone with strange powers, just like the God I had met.

“You can call me DubbAlina. What’s your name?” The voice sounded, I thought, kind of like myself before the weird changes happened. Only softer and more androgenous. The base was similar though.

Oh right. The voice asked a question.

“Aby.” I proudly answered. And then, like magic, a blue holographic screen popped up in front of me.

“Name, Ahmad Fakhri.” I read. I frowned. My name was not Ahmad Fakhri. What was happening? Why was there a glowing see-through panel in front of my face, and what was a system?

“My name isn’t Ahmad Fakhri.” I told the disembodied voice.

DubbAlina was unperturbed by my remark. It snorted, “Of course it is. I am a private system that is part of the World system. Naturally I share its database. Don’t worry, being a VIP, your new identity will be well secured.”

“If you’re feeling worried, you can manually request a system inspection. Would you like to enter a request?”

I nodded. I wondered if DubbAlina could see me. Judging from the sudden silence, apparently they could. I used the silence to arrange my thoughts.

It was the coin, I thought, that had led me here. The coin given by God. God wasn’t to be trusted, and neither was DubbAlina.They said some interesting things. What was a system, I wondered. What was a ‘World system’, why was I a ‘VIP’, and what did DubbAlina mean by ‘a new identity’? Was that the reason I was suddenly in a completely different place, with a completely different body? Was that the reason why a blue transparent screen popped up in front of me?

“System check finished.” The system announced. “Normal. Zero anomalies, two data errors. Nothing too serious. Fourth wall is in pristine condition. Everything is running smoothly. End of report.”

I didn’t pay attention to it, my eyes were trailing over the blue screen. VIT. Now what did that mean? Stats probably meant ‘statistics’, so the words below could be related to that. Virtual Interactive Technology? Very Important Target? But there were numbers next to said letters. My head was starting to hurt.

I pointed to the letters. “What does this mean?” I asked curiously.

“It’s a status board.” DubbAlina said.

I cocked my head to the left. “Status board?”

The system paused for a moment as if in deep shock. If DubbAlina was a person, I imagined they would have their jaw hanging open right now. “You don’t know what a status board is?”

I shook my head.

The system was quiet for a while. I waited for their answer.

“A status board,” they slowly said, “displays your current status. Your identity’s age, level, and stuff like that, plus your stats. Stats are your body’s statistics objectively measured in numbers.”

“My identity?”

“Yeah.” DubbAlina said, as if it was obvious, “After all, you are not Ahmad Fakhri.”

Yes, I thought. I certainly wasn’t. “Then why did you say I was?” I asked them.

“I never said so!” DubbAlina said.

“You said my name was Ahmad Fakhri just about a minute ago.” I said. Was the system senile? But they didn’t seem to be human. Could inhuman disembodied voices turn senile?

“Your name is Ahmad Fakhri now, dummy. You possess his identity, so that’s your name, however, you aren’t Ahmad. Your age?”

“Fourteen,” I answered after a quick glance at the status board.

“Hmm.” DubbAlina said. “I guess you’re just an idiot, then.”

I didn’t mind being called an idiot. I had little information on the situation at hand, so I accepted the fact. It didn’t feel good, but what could you do about the bitter truth? DubbAlina was probably smirking to themselves, I thought.

“Since you’re such an idiot,” DubbAlina added, “I’ll probably have to tell you about the stats, don’t I?”

I nodded. My face seemed a bit stiff today. I had trouble smiling for some reason.

“HP stands for Health Points, MP Mana Points. VIT stands for Vitality, STR Strength, AG Agility, and WIS Wisdom. You do know what those mean, do you?”

I was just about to ask for a clearer explanation when the system carried on, “You can earn experience from killing things, and then you level up with enough experience points. If you level up, you can get stronger, which is reflected on your status board.”

“Is my current assessment good?” I asked suddenly.

DubbAlina laughed. “Hardly!” Their voice was mocking. “You’re just average for your age, and even then, since your identity dabbles in useless trades, it will be difficult for you to level up.

“It’ll take a lot of hard work. I recommend going into a mage division of some kind. At least your Wisdom is a teeny bit high.”

I wondered why I needed to ‘level up’. Was it strictly necessary? I wasn’t a fan of ‘killing things’ especially as I had no beforehand experience, but since DubbAlina said so, maybe it was worth a shot. Something worth considering. I would need to stock up on more information about this.

And even if it didn’t work out, I couldn’t see many possible backlashes to consider. Except going into prison, but that wouldn’t matter because I was a minor. Was killing things normal? I wondered.

My legs were starting to hurt from standing still for some time. I looked around for a chair and, finding a beautifully crafted one, I sat on it.

“Look at your current job!” DubbAlina muttered. “Imagine being a craftsman! It’ll take some time to fix your job, so you’ll have to hold on until you earn the required points needed to delete your debuff.”

“Ahmad!” I heard a shout. It wasn’t DubbAlina.

I almost fell off my chair, surprised by the sound of yet another disembodied voice. No, wait. There was the sound of footsteps thumping on the ground, and I desperately tried to dissipate the transparent blue status board that was floating in the air in front of me like a ghost that wouldn’t go away.

It didn’t go away.

“Ahmad.” It was a boy.

“Don’t worry.” The system’s voice chose this time to echo inside of my head, “He can’t see or hear me. Just stay in character and you’ll be fine.” The blue status screen blinked out of existence.

I silently observed the new arrival with caution. He was tall, I thought, with a tan face, though he was shorter than I was. I stood up to confirm that indeed, I was taller in my new body. The boy tapped his foot impatiently like I was supposed to do something.

He was wearing white trousers and a white shirt, all laced and decorated with colorful thread. Jewelry similar to mine was worn on his ankles, though unlike mine, they didn’t jangle.

“Hurry up. What, are you so happy your soul flew past the window?” His voice was sarcastic, but not in a mean way. It was more teasing than mean.

I shook my head.

The boy looked at me for a second, then as if contemplating something, he squinted. He was observing me, I thought. I opened my mouth to confidently tell him about my new identity.

“No!” DubbAlina hissed. My eyes grew a little wider, then I calmed down. “Don’t say anything, you fool!”

I clamped my mouth shut, wondering the reason behind it.

Meanwhile, the boy raised an eyebrow. “Wow, you’re really-” he paused, as if trying to find the right word. “Different somehow.” he mused over the problem as I tensed.

“Fiddle with your fingers.” DubbAlina instructed. “And make a slack face.”

I complied, though I had no idea what a ‘slack face’ was, I hoped my current expression would do the trick. My fingers were long and slim, I thought, fascinated with them. And the color was a darker tone than mine. It was the shade of almonds, compared to my previous golden brown.

The identity I currently had was fourteen, six years older than my real age. Interesting. Maybe that was why I was so much taller and darker. It was a pleasant feeling, to look down upon someone.

“Looks like the job change did quite a number on you.” The boy said. “Grandpa’s waiting. We should go.”

I sighed in relief.

“Slack face, slack face.” DubbAlina kept hissing.

But why? I wondered. DubbAlina didn’t hear me. It was a good thing, since that meant she couldn’t hear thoughts inside my head. I followed the boy into a larger room, which appeared to be the entrance of a shop. My face creased with wariness. An old man was inside the room.

He was dressed in clean white cloth, but unlike us, he wore no frills. The cloth completely covered his body in one piece, like a dress, but the cloth was also so unlike a dress I didn’t know how to explain it. He was tanned and wrinkled. A small smile was on his face.

He looked very inviting. Just like an old man who tempts kids with candy, I thought privately.

“Your hand, Ahmad.”

“No!” The system screeched.

I paused. It was very weird, I decided. DubbAlina kept telling me not to say anything, not to do anything, almost as if I was being discouraged from interacting with the people around me in my new body. On top of not explaining anything, the system was ordering me around. I did not like being ordered around.

“Why?” I asked.

And it was quiet. The elderly man in front of me looked at me with a surprised look on his face that made me want to shrink back and curl up into a small ball. Not giving in to my emotions, I puffed out my chest instead. I was completely justified, I told myself. DubbAlina sighed.

The elderly man came closer, then raised an arm to my back. I winced, then relaxed.

After two light pats, I saw a screen pop up in front of me again, only this time, it was green.

I mimed clicking on a button. Would I work, I wondered. Or did I have to do something else? It worked. The holographic screen melted away, and my status screen popped up again.

Wasn’t it ‘Apprentice Crafter (Apprentice of Zahid Fakhri)? Where did the ‘Zahid Fakri’ part go? I wondered. I tapped on my job description, deep in thought, to see the hologram expand. The full title of my job presented itself gloriously in front of me. I heard DubbAlina groan.

The elderly man smiled, before slowly waddling into another door. The other boy also disappeared from view. I never had a chance to ask for his name. He had gone outside, in the light of the setting sun. I decided to use this valuable alone time to explore the room, when I heard a sigh echo in my head.

“Now can you explain why you kept ordering me to do things back then?” I asked curiously, innocently.

“We’re screwed.” DubbAlina said.

Instead of asking why, I quietly waited for the answer. A while later, I got it.

“Apprentices can’t switch professions until they reach Master status, you dunderhead.” DubbAlina said. Her voice was resentful, “So you’re basically stuck as a craftsman forever.”

I wondered again, why that was a bad thing. Being a craftsman sounded nice. If it hadn’t, I wouldn’t have accepted, obviously. Crafting might make me money too, wouldn’t it? And I could avoid the apocalypse, or, if God had lied about everything, I could use the money to live a nice life.

“Idiot.” DubbAlina said. “And if you keep acting like that, they will know you’re not actually from DB-9098 either, they will know you’re not from this world.”

“Wait a minute,” I interrupted. “I’m not from this world?”

“Of course not!” DubbAlina said matter-of-factly. “You were sent from a different world via a transportation device into a new identity in another world.”

Oh. Now everything made sense. The system really should have explained this all earlier. Though, I thought, that still didn’t explain why everyone wasn’t supposed to know I was from a different world, or why I was sent here, or why I had to level up.

“You’ll be transported back to your original world once it turns-” DubbAlina’s voice was growing fainter. I could barely hear her. I could barely feel anything, in fact. My hand clenched down on my golden bracelet. My head. I thought. It hurt.

I opened my eyes, then I groaned. Well, look at that.

I was back.

testtube10

Aby is currently in another world, transported via coin. More explanations will be given later. Do not worry, the main theme of this story is still the apocalypse. Though it may not necessarily be a zombie one. (The definition of an apocalypse is an event that causes a tremendous amount of damage, perhaps even so much damage that the world ends.)

+ I am so sorry about the weird status boards. I wanted to make one, but I couldn't find any suitable programs. If you guys know of any better options of status board-making, tell me.