Ascending Endlessly: I Copy Skills

It came suddenly. Like a tablecloth being quickly torn from beneath a set of plates by a magician, the space I'd been occupying was pulled out from under me.

'What…'

I stumbled backwards, catching onto a metal bar behind me. Everything was spinning, and my ears were starting to ring lightly. My heart palpitated in my chest so forcefully that I could feel my breath start to falter.

'Where the fuck am I?'

I quickly collected myself. What if this is a dangerous place? I checked my hip. Fortunately, my Polarium knife was still firmly attached to my belt, even though I was unfortunately shirtless. Keeping a loose grip around the handle, I cast aside my panic and focused on my surroundings. I was in what looked like an ornately decorated elevator. 

The walls were painted gold with vines carved into the wood. Above me was a spotless mirror, and below me was a clean, verdant green carpeted floor. There were two standard elevator doors facing me, closed shut. On the wall beside them was a single button. And finally, there was soft jazz music playing. I didn't feel the elevator moving. I inhaled deeply.

First, I tried to pry the elevator doors open. My fingers slipping as far into the crevice between them as possible, I gripped and pulled with all my might. When that didn't work, I tried applying some mana to my fingertips. Nothing. I rubbed my chin.

'I could try breaking through the walls?'

It really felt like I was supposed to press the button. But this was an unfamiliar environment. Why should I oblige with the obvious solution?

'Dammit, maybe I finally went insane.'

I decided to just press the button. Fuck it. Sometimes the easiest path is the most logically sound one. Hitting the round, plastic cap, a yellow light illuminated the button as the elevator whirred into motion, the sound of shifting machinery drowning out the music for a moment before transitioning to smooth, quiet motion. And so, I waited. Even after just a few moments, the anticipation was getting to me, gulping down saliva and wiping sweat off my forehead as I felt a twinge of regret for hitting that button.

But what was I supposed to do? Stay still until I starved? This was the right choice. Whatever had brought me here was clearly something powerful, and it wasn't like I had an equivalent force to oppose it.

I considered the voice I'd heard in my head just before I arrived here.

[The Architect has answered your call.]

'The Architect…'

It sure was a grandiose name. Regardless, it finally sunk in. My skill. My F-Rank skill that had plagued me for two years. It had finally activated, and suddenly transported me here. How the fuck did that make any sense? What changed? Why did it suddenly decide to work, and who exactly did I call? This did concern me slightly, having spent a considerable amount of time wondering what exactly my skill would do.

[Allows the caster to call out to other planes of existence.]

After all, you can't unring a bell.

'Ding!'

I jolted slightly as the elevator came to a sudden stop. Then, the doors started to creak open. It felt like time was moving in slow motion as the gears and pulleys groaned, splitting the exit in two like the red sea. My hand gripped my knife harder as my attention was drawn to what little I could see through the cracks.

A red carpet…

Wooden supports…

And… an old man?

The doors were fully open now. My eyes were locked onto the man who stood before me, only about ten feet away. He was an older, gentlemanly looking guy, with neatly combed hair and stubble across his face. He looked a little like a bartender, wearing a black vest, white shirt, black pants, and a black tie. He stepped forward slightly, causing me to take a step back and pull my knife an inch out of its sheath, before he dropped into a short, shallow bow, folding his hands gently around his body.

"Welcome,"

He spoke, in a deep, gruff voice,

"To my museum."

He raised his head. I hesitantly returned my knife to its sheath. As much as I wanted to draw it out completely and try to rush this mysterious individual, I had no idea how powerful he was. Moreover, he looked human, and had a soft demeanor. His face looked kind.

As such, I thought it would be possible to communicate with him. Even if it was a bit of a risk, aggression is always met with aggression. If I could avoid a fight in which I would likely be defeated, which was pretty much every fight, it was the right answer. 

I fought against my instincts and stepped out of the elevator, before bowing my head slightly in return and speaking clearly and with a smile.

"Thank you for greeting me,"

I replied, trying to make sure my voice didn't tremble.

"Might I ask where I am?"

He walked up to me and patted my shoulder as my whole body went stiff in a cold sweat. His palms were rough and calloused.

"Loosen up, what are you so scared of?"

He chuckled.

"Is an old man like me really such a frightening sight?"

He retreated as he spoke, still looking at me with a friendly expression.

I exhaled. My breath had been nearly stagnant for a couple of minutes, now. Feeling my chest decompress a bit, I calmed myself.

"You're right; I apologize if I offended you. This is just a very unfamiliar situation for me. Can I assume that I'm safe here?"

I asked, genuinely trying to make myself comfortable. After all, what did it matter if I dropped my guard? It wasn't like I was strong enough to protect myself against a significant threat, anyway. It would be a better idea to foster some good dialogue with the only person I could see who might have answers to my questions.

"Of course."

Well, he sounded genuine enough.

"Now, would you like to come join me for tea?"

I nodded in agreement, and he gestured for me to follow him. Finally, I got to get a good look at my surroundings. The place I'd found myself in was a little strange. As we walked past tall glass cases carefully filled with a number of objects within, like suits of armor, tall vases, and even some firearms, just to name a few, it really did give me the impression of a museum. Each item even had a bronze tablet before it. I halted my movement and leaned a bit closer to try to read one.

[Ronald's Crystal Kingdom- Inspired by the works of the master magician Ronald Glockester, this key was created…]

"Don't dawdle now. I can't keep you here forever, after all."

He seemed to be in a bit of a rush. I wondered what for?

I scratched the back of my head awkwardly as I apologized before returning to tailing him.

"You can call me the Curator."

His voice sounded much more serious than when he'd greeted me- he spoke with a low, almost hesitant intonation as he told me his name.

"I'm Mason Ford."

I thought it would be polite to tell him my name, too, at least, but he didn't reply.

We walked in silence for several minutes before reaching a velvet-lined door with a gold sign reading "Staff". The old man produced a small key from his pocket, unlocked the door, and invited me inside.

"Take a seat while I prepare the tea."

He hurried off to a small counter after showing me to a couch facing a coffee table. I waited a few minutes for him to return, not touching anything out of fear of offending the old man. Fortunately, he didn't take long, and returned shortly after with a steaming pot of tea that smelled like chamomile.

After he poured me a cup, I took a sip, proving myself correct.

"It's been a while since I've had tea…"

I muttered under my breath. Most of what I drank was liquor and energy drinks.

I didn't have much time to ruminate as the old man took a seat in a chair on the other side of the coffee table and started to speak.

"Our time here is short, young man, so I'll cut to the chase. Please remain silent, regardless of the many questions you may have."

I looked quietly at his face, indicating that I was listening.

He nodded.

"Nobody has come to visit me in a long, long time. I'm starting to feel like a grandfather whose grandkids never call,"

He chuckled and took a sip of his tea.

"Unfortunately, it seems as though this plane of existence has been separated from the others. As to how such an unthinkable thing could occur, I am unsure."

He continued. 

"I suspect The Gloam is proliferating well, considering I can smell her on you. If she's reached so far out to the edges of the realm, she may well have been the cause of my isolation, as well."

Now I was starting to get really confused, but I kept on listening well. This felt important.

"However, there is a failsafe. Within the Root Matrix, I left several beacons. If activated, they should pierce a hole through to here, allowing my release from this damned lonely place."

He leaned in close and looked at me seriously.

"Young man."

"Yes?"

I replied. I gulped.

"You and I are, for the most part, unacquainted. You are certainly confused. However, whatever allowed you passage here won't last much longer. So, I have to make this request of you a bit impolitely."

He placed a smooth stone on the coffee table and pushed it towards me. There were eleven circular grooves engraved on its surface. 

"Let's help each other."

I picked up the stone. It fit perfectly into my palm and was cold to the touch. I returned my gaze to the old man.

"I hate to be like this, but I'm not sure I can do anything for you. After all…"

My face turned sour as I considered my skill card. Ugh…

Then, the old man placed something else on the table.

"Of course, I heard your call. I'm aware of your weakness- you will certainly require strength to accomplish my request."

I looked at what was on the table. It was what looked to be a rectangular leather satchel.

"Go ahead,"

He gestured for me to take it.

I took the satchel in my hand and turned it over a couple of times, feeling around it. It seemed to be filled with something hard. I opened the latch and flipped the top up, checking the contents. I was a little confused- inside was what seemed to be a deck of crystal cards. 

Picking one out of the satchel, I tried to get a grasp of what exactly I was looking at. It did, in fact, look to be the size, shape, and width of a playing card, and was similarly flexible, but each card was see-through, and looked to be made of some kind of crystal. I looked up at the old man with a confused look on my face.

"Curator, what is this?"

I asked. He said he would give me strength, so what exactly is this?

"A weapon, my boy,"

He chuckled as he spoke.

"It may not look like much, but it's an artifact from this museum. And nothing here is useless."

I looked again at the card in my hand. This was a weapon?

"Its name is [Rahleigh's Spectral Jokers]. It's an artifact from the second floor here. Normally, I would never allow such an item to be taken from here, but circumstances demand drastic measures. You can consider it an advance payment on your work,"

He took another sip of his tea.

"It has quite a peculiar power that I believe you'll find most useful. Considering your lack of magical knowledge or, to be frank, talent, it's a suitable tool for you. Each card is capable of storing magic."

He drew one from the deck and held it up.

"When encountering a magical signature, each Joker will record and store it. Then, you can cast the magic from the card."

He put the card back in the deck. 

"There are few drawbacks, however. be cautious. Once a card has cast a spell, it will require restabilization due to the mana flow surging through it. Casting a powerful spell several times may destroy the spell signature, or even on a single use, depending on its strength."

I decided to interject.

"Magic? Like skills?"

If I could copy skills into these cards, they truly were broken weapons.

"If that is what the magical arts are called in your world, then sure. Now, then, it's time to be on your way. The stone I gave you will help you find the beacons. Of course, you'll be rewarded if you manage to complete the task I gave you."

Hold on! I have to go?!

"Old man, I have a lot more questions, though…"

What kind of employer was this? To give me a job with no instructions?

"Don't worry! I'm sure we'll be seeing each other again soon. Now then, off you go!"

He took another sip of his tea calmly and waved his hand. Within an instant, space warped around me. I'd returned to my apartment.

"What the fuck…"

I fell to my knees as swear poured down my forehead.