Liv

I take the stack of pizza boxes from her before my hands start shaking from the surprise system reveal that just nuked everything I understood about my little sis.

Liv raises an eyebrow. "What?"

I blink. "What… What?" I cough, like that'll help my brain reboot from holy crap my sister's a System user.

She tilts her head, hand on her hip, frowning. "Why are you looking at me like I have two heads? Or a horn…" She rolls her eyes upward, and pokes her forehead. "Nope, still normal."

"I… uh… Didn't expect…" I swallow. "What level are you?"

Liv's mouth opens like I just asked her if she's something extremely personally.

"Wow," she says, clearly offended. "Not even a 'Hey sis, how were finals? Anything new?' Just what level are you? Are you serious right now?"

"I just—" I shift the pizza tower in my arms like it'll help balance out my shame. I've been a shitty older brother. I definitely should have checked in more. And maybe should have eased into the System conversation. But… "Your… aura. It's crazy." It's like a pressure cooker filled with lightning, more like it.

"My what?" she squints at me like I'm speaking in tongues.

"Your… aura?" I say again, slower, trying to feel less insane about this. Then it hits me. She's not sensing anything.

"You… can't sense aura?" I ask.

She gives me the most aggressively blank stare I've ever seen. Like '404: Olivia Not Found.'

I gape at her. "It's like... your power signature, I guess. I can feel it. Yours is… pretty strong." I lower my voice like it's a sacred confession. "I'm a System User too."

She blinks. "Um... no duh." Then she scoffs. "Seriously, Joe? You think I didn't figure that out when I found out you had four slimes living in your bedroom?" She waves a hand dramatically. "Oh sure, completely normal...!"

I flush. Okay, fair enough. She has me there.

"Does that have to do with your Class?" she asks, eyeing me sideways as she starts walking toward the side door.

"Er... No, it doesn't. That's a long story actually, I—Hey! No no no! Answer my question first!"

She pauses dramatically. Looks over her shoulder, then flashes the devious smile of the spoiled little sibling who knows she has something to lord over her older brother.

"Mmm... Maybe."

"Unfair, Liv!" I cry, chasing after her with the pizzas jostling like I'm carrying a stack of greasy, tomato-scented Jenga blocks.

She laughs. Walks through the side door.

It turns out, slimes do like pineapple on pizza.

Tom, Jax, and Other Tom are going to town. The ooze surfaces of their bodies wobbling rhythmically as they devour slice after slice with the slow, sensual intensity of food vloggers—really over-emphasizing every part of the act of 'eating.' After all three finish a slice, they do their human-shaped-slime wave routine. My dad then places another slice on each of their plates and the routine repeats itself.

Jelly Boy is perched on a footstool we pulled up to the dining room table, placed with a line-of-sight into the living room and the TV. He's jiggling with the unfiltered joy of a gelatinous child. There's a slice of jalapeño and sausage halfway dissolved inside him, floating suspended in his core, little gas bubbles rising from its surface. He makes a delighted blorp every time the sausage sizzles in his goo.

My mom's holding court, of course. Glass of red wine in one hand, using the other to gesture wildly as she dissects the latest gossip. 'Mama drama,' she calls it, because it always has to do with the network of Liv's friends' moms.

No wonder her and Jelly Boy get along, I think. Listening to her ramble on about the gossip, it's like I'm listening to a recap of Real Housewives of Ohio.

"So apparently," she says, eyes widening for dramatic effect, "Megan's mom told everyone she saw Susan's Range Rover parked outside Coach Danvers' house again."

Liv gasps, full dramatic theater mode. "Noooooo." She shoves the crust of her third slice into her mouth. "He's so gross!... Though I guess they're both single, consenting adults." She shrugs.

My mom points her wine glass like she's casting a spell. "Wouldn't be the first time a PTA meeting ended in a fight! He's apparently dating one of the other teachers… What's her name? I think she was your Biology teacher?"

"Ms. Lashley?.... Nooooo!"

They both cackle.

I'm across the table with Dad, mostly because it's quieter over here. Or, well, it would be, if not for the background slorp slorp slorp of the Slimy Guys going full Lasagna Garfield on what used to be four large pizzas.

"How's work been?" I ask around a mouthful of garlic crust, my plate already holding the grease-stained carcasses of two fallen slices. Cheat meal, baby. No regrets.

He shrugs. Has a half-eaten slice sitting on his plate, already marked for death with a crumpled napkin placed over it like a shroud. "Same as always. The Eastlake store really needs some work. Offer above market pay and benefits, but things are still shaky, what with all this System related stuff going on still." He eyes Other Tom.

I nod, chewing. Then a thought hits me. "Maybe these guys can help? Assuming it's OK they only go in after hours."

His eyes light up. "Now there's a thought!..."

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

We continue down the path for a bit longer, because apparently labor laws probably don't apply to freeloading slimes from another world. Until we get sidetracked by some off-season news involving the Cleveland Cavaliers.

And it's nice.

The chaos, the voices, the pizza grease and diet sodas. Even the occasional squeal from Jelly Boy when something dramatic happens on TV. It's all comforting in that warm, tangled, "my life is absurd but at least it's mine" kind of way.

And it's nice having Liv back.

Last time she was home was her first Winter break of college. I was just getting back from NYC—fresh out of the blender. Heartbroken. Jobless. An emotionally hollowed out like a jack-o'-lantern two weeks past Halloween. Left on the porch to rot and get picked apart by vicious squirrels. I barely left my bed for about a whole month. When I did, it was like I was puppeteering my own body through a haze of self-loathing and food deliveries.

But Liv had been good.

She didn't push. Didn't prod. She just existed around me—reminding me that the world kept turning, and I didn't have to earn every breath. She got it. On some level, she always has. Maybe it's a sibling thing. Maybe it's because she's got her own ghosts. Being the golden child—ace of every class, MVP of every team, Queen of the goddamn Honor Society—that kind of brilliance burns hot.

And pressure like that? It squeezes. People don't talk about how much it costs to always be the one who never fails. I was there for her when things got bad and I could sense her being on the edge of an implosion. And last Winter, she was there for me too. In her own way… In the way I needed.

But we don't need to talk about it.

Right now? She's laughing alongside Mom. I'm picking up another slice, though it feels like my stomach might burst. Dad's laughing at me as I rub my pained stomach.

And for once, in a world full of Gates and monsters, everything feels normal.

Today's a good day, I think to myself.

"Fifteen," Liv says.

We're out back on the patio after finishing and cleaning up dinner. It's just me and her now. The fire pit flickers between us, casting long shadows against the old deck boards and the broken lawn chair Dad still swears he's gonna fix one day when he finally has time to get around to it. He still tells Mom the she should definitely not just buy new ones. The smell of woodsmoke curls up into the night, mixing with the earthy aroma of that distant Lake Erie funk.

The slimes have retreated downstairs—Jelly Boy and the Three Slimy Guys burbling their way to their designated nesting zones: Jelly Boy at the foot of my bed, and the other three inside my wardrobe. I still don't know why they do that.

"My level," she adds, watching the flames. "It's fifteen."

Fifteen? That… feels low. Doesn't it? I use [Aura Sense] and reach out tentatively with my mind, feeling the edges of her power. It still feels just as strong as it had before. And what I felt earlier wasn't the power of a Level 15. But why would Liv lie to me?

Then again, truth be told? I don't actually know what normal level distribution looks like. I've been flying blind since Day One. The Guilds hoard stats like they're trade secrets and the System sure as hell isn't handing out pie charts to the general populations every few weeks like economy performance data. Maybe Level 15 was pretty strong. But then what did that make me?

"I'm Level 19," I say, tossing a twig into the fire. It pops, sparks climbing skyward like hot little fireflies.

Her eyes widen, but only slightly. "Seriously?"

"Yeah."

"Then why'd you react to my... aura," she says, finger-quotes and all, "like I was some kind of giant Gate monster?"

I shrug. "I don't know. I just figured you'd be higher. The pressure coming off you was... intense. Or maybe it was only surprising at first. I've gotten used to it already."

She snorts. "Well, Mr. Nineteen!... You were wrong."

"But if you're Level 15, that means…" I trail off. My brain finishes the sentence, but I hesitate before I say it. "You've been inside Gates." I let the implication of that statement linger between us. Had my sister been risking her future to also illegally and secretly Gate dive?

"Just one… After the first one, that is," she says, like she's reading my thoughts. She pokes at the fire with a stick. "And both were pretty lame. I had a lot of supervision. When I entered my Bronze Gate, I had like three handlers with me."

"Wait, really?"

She nods.

"But I thought Bronze Gates were solo only?"

"Some Guilds have harvested magical items that can increase a Gate's capacity for participants."

"Wow… No way!"

"Clueless…"

I pause, thinking for a moment. Mulling over my thoughts from earlier. "Hey Liv."

"What's up?"

"I'm sorry."

She chuckles. "I was just giving you a hard time earlier. Don't worry about it. It's OK you asked me about my Level like that."

"No…" I sigh. "I should have reached out and been more concerned when the System arrived. I should have been there for you when you had to go through your first Gate. I'm sorry. I've been a pretty crappy bro since coming back home."

She's quiet for a moment, too.

Then, she speaks. "It wasn't as scary as I heard it was for others."

"Your first Gate?"

She nods. The flames dances across the whites of her eyes. "I got almost two hundred days… to complete the Initiation. But didn't need even a fraction of that. I was lucky. I found an organization pretty fast. Like a month in, when stuff was still pretty new. They helped me prepare for it, in exchange for me using my Skills to help them train."

"Woah…" I lean back, the chair creaking under me. "So, how'd you end up at Level 15 then? You just… grind XP that fast? In two Gates?"

She smiles, tilts her head. Her hair catches the firelight and glows like copper wire.

"Nope. All the training and experience I've received, I've gotten from good ole' Earth. From using my Skills," she says. "A lot."

I blink. Just… using them?

And not inside a Gate. Not slaying monsters. I chew on that. Let it roll around in my brain like a marble in a rusty bucket. When I was working out those first few months post-Integration, could I have been honing [Mage Hand] and leveling up that entire time?

But think of the gains, Joe!... Idiot. Here was my little sis. At Level 15, and she'd only done the bare minimum of Gates.

"What kinda Skills do you have? What's your Class?" I ask, leaning back in the patio chair and trying not to sound like I'm conducting an impromptu job interview around a fire pit. But honestly, curiosity is getting the best of me.

Liv pokes at the embers with one of the metallic marshmallow skewers that come with the fire pit, even though we're not roasting anything. When she does, her stabbing kicks up a fresh cloud of sparks.

"I'm a Healer and Social specialist," she says. "My Class is called Interventionist. It's pretty rare, but far from the rarest."

I blink. "Fitting for the pre-Med student!"

She snorts. "No kidding…" she mutters. "I still want to go to med school. That hasn't changed. But now? I'd like to use my Skills to treat System Users. I think it could be a very fascinating career."

I nod slowly. "Healing for people who blow themselves up with fireballs or get bites ripped out of them by goblins. Respect."

She laughs.

"And did you say you were a Social specialist?" I raise an eyebrow. "What the hell does that mean?"

She smirks. "Joe, you're clueless. Never change, please."

I raise both hands, no shame. "Hey, I don't deny it. Help a dum-dum out!"

"Yeah," she continues, "I can soothe people's emotions. Helps a lot when I'm trying to heal someone who's panicking or in pain. It kind of... settles their nervous system, lets the other Skills take hold faster. I've gotten better at it too, and can even flood people with positive emotions."

She glances over the rim of her marshmallow stick. "It's how I calmed Mom and Dad down when they discovered Jelly Boy and the rest of your slimes."

I blink. That… tracks. That really tracks. I mean, I would have definitely expected a freak-out. I guess that explains why Mom and Dad seemed to 'okay' with the whole situation.

I narrow my eyes, and then shrug. "I thought they'd gotten into your old stash of edibles," I say flatly.

Liv nearly doubles over laughing, clutching her stomach.

"Remember back when I was in middle school, and you were in high school, and Mom found your special binder?"

"The one I was stashing my buddy's acid in? Oh yeah, I remember."

We both laugh. The fire crackles between us, popping softly like it's in on the joke.

Then she leans in, conspiratorially. "So, then, what's your Class?"

I smile. Lean forward so the light catches my face just right—dramatic and serious.

"Muscle Mage."

She stares.

And then throws her head back and howls with laughter.

"Are you serious?!" she chokes. "Muscle Mage?! I told you you were getting out of control with all that creatine stuff!"

I strike a flexing pose, arms over my head. "Don't be jealous because you're the runt of the family."

She laughs again.

I laugh too.

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