Jason dropped to the ground, staring at the impossible.

  "So, it's like a game interface?" Annabeth took a seat, then leaned over his shoulder. "I don't see anything."

  He turned slightly, "Really."

  "Nope," she sat back against the wall. "So, what are your choices?"

  Frowning, Jason reached out with his finger. Nothing happened; maybe think about pushing the button. "This sort of reminds me of those light novels Neil spoke about. Oh, that works, let's see. Firemancer, Ice Caller, Hex Mistress, Arcanist."

  "Interesting choices; sounds like you're going to be like some sort of Gandalf?"

  "I guess, hopefully without the Balrog part," Jason frowned. "Let's see, fire and cold, that's easy enough to understand. What's Hex Mistress?"

  "Arcanist sounds like you're a member of some violent political party," Annabeth giggled at the absurdity of it all.

  "Funny, but let's see if I can get a definition."

  Fmemancer – You are the mistress of the fme, she who reaches into the realm of fire, channeling its mighty power and leaving your enemies smoldering in ruin.

  Ice Caller – you are the mistress of ice and cold, wielding the might of Niflheim to freeze your enemies with its icy touch.

  Hex Mistress – In ancient times, they called you a witch, and channeling powers of the dark, you cast powerful curses upon your enemies, weakening their resolve and inflicting harm.

  Arcanist – you are the mistress of magic, channeling its ancient power to bring it forth into the physical world with the ultimate goal of maniputing reality itself.

  Jason leaned back, joining his ex against the wall. He wasn't happy to see that whatever this was, it considered him a female.

  "I think if we are to survive down here, I need to pick."

  Annabeth just stared in shock. "Wait, did it actually say Niflheim?"

  "So?"

  "Remember, I took that comparative religion css in my junior year. We also covered the older religions. Niflheim’s right out of Norse mythology, so I can only imagine that the realm of fire is Muspelheim."

  Jason blinked. "You mean like Vikings?"

  "Exactly," she said excitedly. "Maybe we haven't left our world. Sort of surprised you don't know what Niflheim is, considering that you and Neil read all those superhero comics."

  "Whatever," Jason rolled his eyes. "Fire sounds chancy, pretty destructive, sure, but not sure if we want to light things on fire down here."

  "Frost, too, and really, Niflheim's not the most hospitable of pces. Dark powers, witchcraft that would probably bite us in the ass ter," Annabeth pointed out.

  "Agreed, so Arcanist then," he frowned, feeling something change within him, then smiled. "I now have spells, cool, although only two - Arcane Missiles and Shield. Maybe I'll get more if I go up a level."

  "How does that even work?"

  "Killing things, most likely," Jason shrugged, standing back up.

  Raising a hand, he pointed, and a glow appeared on his fingertips. Moments ter, several missiles of light took a chunk of the stone wall.

  "Can you do that again?" she asked excitedly.

  "Yeah."

  "Cool, then let's go."

  However, they should have stopped for the night. Exhaustion was already slowing them down, and that was when danger struck.

  A bloated, mutited dog-like creature on two legs unched itself at the pair with lightning speed as they turned a corner. Jason barely dodged its first attack, its cws missing his face by inches. But the second cw caught him on his side, slicing through the flesh of his arm.

  Annabeth cried out, "Jason!"

  Without hesitating, she forced the beast to focus on her as she plunged her dagger into its chest, followed by a brutal punch to the snout. She continued to dance around her opponent, catching several blows on her knife before driving it back further, inflicting deep wounds into the flesh of the creature's shoulder and arms.

  "Annabeth, step to the left," Jason shouted from the ground.

  Missiles of light punched through the beast's body like a magical bullet, inflicting bloody wounds to its chest and throat.

  When the dog-like monster stumbled to its knees, Annabeth followed up, smming her dagger again and again into the beast's skull before it shuddered once and finally colpsed.

  "Fuck me," Panting, Jason sat up, examining his wounds. It felt like his arm was on fire.

  Annabeth rushed over. "Let me see."

  Jason nodded, tears forming.

  She reached into the backpack, pulling out bandages. "Shit, we have no water to clean it. Thank God, it's not bleeding too badly."

  Annabeth used one of the bandages to cover the wound, but even the light pressure was uncomfortable for him.

  Jason groaned as he fell on his back. "I forgot the arcane shield."

  "Shh, sit still and don't worry about it. Look, the bleeding already stopped; you'll be okay, sweetheart, trust me," she murmured, then began to wrap his arm carefully.

  He didn't have enough strength to comment on the term of affection.

  The two sat for a while, keeping an eye on the hallway.

  "Let's go back to the abandoned campsite."

  Nodding while carefully cradling his arm, Jason sighed. "Hopefully, it will be a safe pce to hold up for the night."

  "I doubt anywhere's truly safe," Annabeth snorted, helping him up.

  Exhausted, wounded, and thirsty, he was the first to colpse into the bedroll, hoping this nightmare would soon end. And, as consciousness faded, Jason sought memories of his girlfriend, not the stranger sitting next to him, but the one who said she loved him.

  "Hey, you awake?" a warm voice called out to him.

  Opening his eyes, he found Annabeth leaning over him.

  "I am now," he grumbled, then winced, sitting up.

  "Do you mind switching? I'm about to colpse."

  "Sure, here," he began to unwind himself from the sleeping roll.

  "You keep it," Annabeth said with a smile. "The wall is comfortable enough; I just need to close my eyes for a bit."

  Jason sat for a while before finally standing up, covering his ex with the bedroll, and rummaging through the backpack to find more bandages. Carefully unwrapping his arm, he nearly gagged. Chunks of bckened flesh peeled away, revealing red, wet wounds. Cursing the ck of water, he carefully covered it up once again with a new bandage.

  Morning brought both relief and frustration. For Jason, using the bathroom no longer bothered him as much as it had before. He was frightened that he was becoming used to his ex-girlfriend's body.

  Annabeth was just happy that his wound didn't get any worse, although the chunks of flesh concerned her. Did the monsters in the necropolis have toxins in their cws?

  "Hey Jason," she called out, coming back from watering the wall.

  "Yeah," he replied while having an unsatisfying breakfast of dried fruit.

  "I didn't want to tell you before, as you needed to sleep, but after we killed that monster, a pop-up message appeared."

  "Really, what did it say?"

  Taking a seat next to him, Annabeth expined, "You have met the requirements for the Warrior Css."

  Jason rolled his eyes. "Of course it did."

  "Jealous?" she grinned.

  "Not really, let me test something," he said, handing her the crystal rod.

  When the rod left his hand, the room plunged into darkness.

  "It doesn't work for me," Annabeth said, handing it back. "Why?"

  "Magic, of course. Assuming not everyone can use them, we need to be careful—doubt we will find another one. Hopefully, there we will find a way to make a torch or something ter."

  Jason then pointed at the tiny lines along its surface. "I think these are time marks and that each rod will st roughly twenty hours. So, between the other one we found, combined, there's about twenty-eight hours left."

  "You sure about that?" Annabeth asked, concerned.

  "Best guess."

  "Alright, issue for future us. Want to hear about my choices?" She grinned.

  Housecarl – You are a warrior without peer, a master of weapons surpassing all the lesser men who walk the realms.

  Shield Master – You are a warrior who lets no one pass, a physical wall protecting your comrades in battle. At times, it seems that you are almost impervious to the most devastating blows.

  Wayfinder – You are comfortable with life outside civilization, utilizing your skills to track prey, whether it be above ground or deep underground.

  "Obviously, Shield Master's a tank css," Annabeth pointed out. "Not sure how it works, though, without a shield."

  Jason just raised an eyebrow with her, knowing the term. "And the others."

  "Housecarl's totally DPS, and Wayfinder sounds something like Aragorn or Legos from Lord of the Rings."

  "Housecarl, another one of the Viking terms, right?"

  Annabeth nodded. "Think of them as knights."

  Jason scratched his arm, then sighed. "So which one. They all sound good. I imagine since all three are warrior csses, you will get better at hitting things."

  "Throwing fireballs would be a bst, but dancing around that monster was a fucking rush. Your body moves like a dream."

  "Thanks," he responded dryly.

  "So, I'm picking Housecarl; it sounds like I'll do more damage with my dagger, which is a good thing. And hopefully, we'll find better weapons."

  Jason's eyes opened wide as he watched his old body grow; he was still lean but now had thicker arms and wrists.

  Annabeth then jumped up and stretched, shadowboxing for a few seconds before breaking into a ugh.

  Giving his ex a sideways gnce as he put away the bedroll and handed her the backpack. "Let's go."