Chapter 2: Chapter 2: Optimize or Die

I had watched or read a couple portal fantasies here and there. Or isekai, or whatever people call those. My current situation would be analogous to them – stories like Narnia, Re:Zero, or Harry Potter – where the protagonist gets transported from the "real world" to a fantasy universe, where they gain cool powers, and perhaps start a new life as a hero. That was what I suspected at least, though in my circumstance the fine-grain details were still unknown. What I was sure of, however, was that picking my special power would decide my fate in this new world. If I gained super-strength, I'd probably become a frontline warrior. Meanwhile, if I gained magical healing, I could instead stay inside a town and start a hospital.

Obviously I was making a lot of assumptions, but still, that's what you gotta do when you're working with limited information.

"Wait," I said to the unseen, female voice. "Is Hei coming too? Are we getting isekai'd together?"

There was no response.

"I want my ability to be reality manipulation," I told the voice. Again, there was no response, and nothing happened.

"How about time manipulation?" I followed up. "Invincibility? Omniscience? Return by Death – actually no, not that one. Just give me invincibility."

A light shined in the corner of my vision.

Yes! I convinced her!

Upon closer inspection, however, the light was just from three glowing objects floating toward me. A sword, a book of runes, and a longbow. I sighed in disappointment.

So no invincibility, huh? Guess I was limited to rather generic stuff.

When I reached out to take the sword, the other two items began fading away. It looked like I could only choose one. The sword of the warrior, the spellbook of the mage, or the bow of the ranger. Time to pick a class, apparently.

If my encounter with the wolves was any indication, I'd be terrible at close-combat. I did decent with sports, but being a physically-oriented warrior wouldn't be my forte. What about the spellbook, then?

Mages were usually pretty bookish, right? To be a powerful mage you'd probably need to memorize runes or conduct arcane experiments. If using magic involved research or planning or creativity, it'd be right up my alley. I actually used to be a Gifted and Talented Program student back in elementary school. And though I hadn't really been a star student throughout high school, I'd still consider myself academically competent. I had several C's and sometimes D's, sure, but grades don't reflect your academic talent. They just measure how willing you are to follow rules and endure meaningless assignments. If I really wanted to do well in an area of study, like magic, I had a decent shot.

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The last option was the bow. It was an alright choice. But usually, rangers couldn't pull off the big-brain tricks mages could, like exploit loopholes in laws of magic, or find secret and overpowered uses for niche spells. Of course, I could be way overrating my aptitude for magic. In high school, I never excelled in my studies. I had excuses – perhaps reasonable ones – but I needed to be honest with myself right now. The choice before me was a matter of life and death; hubris had no place here.

I still remembered the end of tenth grade, when my parents saw a D+ on my report card for the first time. They hadn't bothered hiding their disgust. I had explained to them I hadn't expected my grade for History to be that low either. I told them the teacher made us memorize useless dates, and tested us on things we'd never need in the real world. I told them academics weren't as big a deal as they were making it out to be.

"Of course school is important!" Dad had said. "For you it is. You can't do manual labor to save your life. You've got book smarts going for you, what else? Don't waste the talent you've got. Your mom, myself, we've done everything we could to pave a path that's right for you. Tell me, what else do you need us to do? Please."

I never answered that, since it was a rhetorical question. At least I thought it was, back then.

My parents took a hands-on approach with me, perhaps overly so. After all, I was their only child. They always pushed me like I was a workhorse. They wouldn't understand, or rather wouldn't listen, when I said that the world was now different from the one they lived in, that studying hard no longer guaranteed you a golden ticket to success. Perhaps I was right. Or perhaps they were right. Considering my current situation, I doubted I'd ever get the chance to find out. I doubted I'd ever get the chance to see them again, to reconcile, to acknowledge to them that they had loved me in their own way.

There's no point in regrets, Dad would say to me right now, if he were here. Lift your chin, Sophia. And keep going forward.

I reached my hand out and seized the spellbook.

"I want to be a powerful mage," I declared into the void. "I want to win every battle. I want to be able to keep myself safe, and be able to defeat enemies on my own. Give me the power I'll need to survive. Give me the power to make it in this new world. Be it blasting away enemies, or curing diseases, or even purifying water."

The book's pages flipped on their own, and its leather cover shone iridescent. The touch of its aura felt cool against my palm.

"I want a power with some depth," I continued. "So nothing straightforward, like just shooting a bolt of energy in a straight line to attack. I'm willing to have a power that's hard to master, but in return, let it be powerful when used optimally. If possible, I'd like to have a power that can be better used by someone who understands real-world science, so I'd be able to use it better than people from the fantasy world. I'll show you what I can do."

I had no idea how many of my requests would be granted. But surely, the spellbook responded to my voice. As I finished the last sentence, the book's pages dissolved into water. Streams of it started circling my hand in complex, weightless orbitals; droplets were absorbed into my skin. And a great shard of ice, sharp like an arrowhead, materialized at the center of my open palm. Its crystalline facets gleamed pale-blue with magic, and at once I knew this was my weapon.

 

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