Fortitude [increases Hit Points by 1% per point]: 0

Charisma: 30

Luck: 0

Unspent: 60

Current Elemental Attunement:

None

Combat Proficiencies:

None

Lucas was greeted by his dive system’s British-accented assistant and its gushing praise when he logged out. “Sir, splendid performance and wonderful job at that thing you were attempting to accomplish. I have heard how marvelously you completed that task that you set out to do! But please remain in the pod while the fluid is drained.”

Lucas couldn’t help but chuckle at the vague, meaningless compliments it provided after every use. The machine’s unabashed flattery was almost on par with some that he had received while he was still running the company. The only key difference was that those men and women would compliment and agree with him on specific points, whereas this machine threw around ambiguous, sycophantic charm whenever and wherever it could.

The drainage process always felt weird. The liquid that enveloped him during the game was slowly sucked out of the pipe at the bottom of the chamber, and his skin was exposed to the chilled air in the apartment. When the process was done, the machine hit him with a gust of hot air that dried him off. The entire process only took a single brief moment, and then the door opened, letting him out of the capsule.

As he stood up, finally free from the device, he took in the sight of his sparse apartment, which contained little more than a single table with two chairs in the kitchen. He didn’t know why he had the extra chair—he never had company—but it was easier to get two than to explain to the person selling the set that he only needed one. There wasn’t even a couch in the living room, lamps, or any of the other amenities usually expected in a normal habitation.

At least I haven’t carved up perfectly good statues, Lucas thought as he walked across the small living room into the kitchen, where he had left one of his relics on the table: a smartphone. Most people didn’t use them anymore. The technology had been made obsolete by wrist devices or augmented-reality add-ons for glasses, but Lucas had kept his. It was a keepsake. The phone was the first piece of “big” technology he had ever gotten from someone. Yu Hua had insisted on him carrying it when she found out he didn’t have a phone, and now, even though its battery had gotten to the point where it barely stayed on for a few hours at a time without being near a charger, he didn’t ever want to replace it. He picked it up, unlocked it, and was instantly looking down at the first selfie that they had ever taken together. It was a ridiculous photo, and neither he nor Yu Hua looked like they had been ready. Each was making a silly face with their tongues stuck in odd directions and with half their faces wrinkled from being caught mid-laugh as they tried to push one another out of the camera frame. But he loved it.