I crouched in the shadow of the Parthenon, staring at my bag of Skittles. Five minutes ago, I was buying a hot dog from a convenience store on the streets of New York, and now I'm being dragged to Athens in 399 BC by a golden ball of light calling itself the Civilization Cultivation System.
It started with that damn sausage.
I was at counter 711 trying to decide whether to add pickles, when three robbers in skull masks burst in. The chief guy pointed a shotgun at the cashier, but I noticed the chewing gum stuck to his sneakers -- robbers aren't even professional these days.
"Everybody get down!" I almost laughed at the second robber's crackling scream until the clatter of his loaded gun. I was thinking about burning his eyes with hot dog sauce, and I got this weird burning sensation in my hand.
That jalapeno hot dog is glowing.
Not a metaphorical glow, but a physical red glow that turns ketchup the color of blood plasma. I watched as the skin cracked and a golden ball of light popped out of the paprika, announcing with the cheeriness of a KFC commercial:
"A human match has been detected! Civilization development system binding "
That's when the third robber's bullet came in. The ball of light suddenly expanded into the shape of a shield, and the bullet froze two centimeters from the tip of my nose, like a bee on pause.
"This system was born out of the collective human unconscious."
The voice of the light ball suddenly became solemn, "Activated when the probability of civilization survival is less than 51%, you are selected 399th..."
"Wait," I interrupted, pinching the still-glowing sausage.
"What about the first 398?"
"87% died in the first crossing, 9% went insane, 3% chose to become Napoleon's mistress, and the remaining 1%...." The light ball suddenly made the sound of the vacuum cleaner stuck, "Data corruption."
The robber behind the counter suddenly fell to his knees.
"It's a mutant! The X-Men kind!"
When I realized, nothing but spilled slurpees were flowing through the convenience store.
The light ball shrank to the size of a baseball into my left eye, and a hologram of the Acropolis appeared on my retina.
"Novice task: Become Socrates' teacher."
The system played a Symphony of Destiny in my cochlea, "Success will reward you with immortality, failure will turn you into a hamster."
"What kind of choice is that? Hey!"
"Host vitals stable. Ready to drop starter pack."
The ball of light emitted a microwave-like buzz in my ear and suddenly spit out a linen bag and hit me in the face.
I scrambled open the bag and out rolled three things: a bag of Skittles, two spring-loaded fist toys, and three glowing glass marbles. The instructions read, in Greek, "The Wise Man conquers Suit."
"I'm going to use these children's toys as a teacher for Socrates?"
I picked up my spring-loaded fist, plastic knuckles making a funny squeak.
"This thing won't scare even a convenience store robber."
The ball of light suddenly expands into the shape of a hamster:
"Subject under attack detected! Novice Protection Quest: Become Socrates' mentor by sundown. Failure penalty: The host becomes a hamster forever."
I almost choked on my saliva. There was a commotion in the distant market. Three strong men in purple cloaks were surrounding an old man with bare feet. The old man's grey beard was like woolen felt, his socks with holes in his toes were exposed under his torn robes, and his hands were stained with wine as he held the pottery cup.
"Is that the founder of Western philosophy?"
My hand shaking as I held the Skittles bag, "He looks like a homeless man who hasn't bathed in three days!"
"Intelligence concentration 97.3%," the hamster light ball circled over my head, "suggested the host use the item immediately."
The bronze sword of the mighty leader was drawn from its scabbard, its blade at Socrates' neck:
"Athens has no need of young sinners..."
"Hey!" I closed my eyes and swung my spring fist.
The plastic joints suddenly grew three meters long, like a silver snake around the blade. With a jingle, the tip of the sword struck the strong man's own nose ring.
The crowd erupted in gasps. Socrates picked up the crown of the fallen olive branch and observed the spring device with great interest:
"Exquisite mechanical structure! Is this a new invention of the Diogenes school?"
I slipped skittles into his hand. "Taste the food of the Olympians."
The old philosopher licked the green sugar granules and suddenly widened his eyes: "The sweetness contains a fruity aroma, which is purer than honey!" Young man, are you the atomic messenger of Democritus?"
"Target likability +30% detected."
The system suddenly plays a wedding march, "Invite the host to philosophical enlightenment."
I glimpsed the worn heels of Socrates' socks and remembered from my high school history class that the open-air philosopher had been nicknamed "the barefoot wise" by the Athenians because he didn't wear shoes. But now he was handing out candy to the wildcats on the side of the road, and the purple capes were jumping up and down.
"Sir," I pulled out the last glass marble, "truth is like this jewel."
Marbles suddenly project holograms, and two thousand years later the Academy of Athens rises out of the void, scholars in suits debating.
Socrates' earthenware cup shattered:
"Gods above! This is the embodiment of dialectics!"
"Congratulations to the host for completing the first Act!" The system explodes electronic fireworks and "gains the Eye of Truth ability to see through any logical holes."
As the vortex of time and space unfolded beneath my feet, Socrates suddenly grabbed me by the corner of my coat: "Teacher, what is your name?"
"Victor Fool." I laughed as I jumped into the light vortex and suddenly heard the system scream, "Warning! Skittles bag left behind in B.C. ——"
There were popcorn-shaped nebulae floating in the space-time tunnel, and my stomach was going through its tenth free fall. The system turns into a hamster ball of light gnawing furiously at my collar, the electronic voice mixed with grinding teeth: "Do you know how civilized you have to be to leave behind modern objects? "
"You didn't say that!" I caught the flying pieces of the Roman column for balance, "and it was just a candy wrapper..."
"The Acropolis sweeper in 399 BC just picked it up!" The ball of light exploded into a hologram of a janitor in a laurel laurel gazing at plastic packaging in the sunlight, surrounded by a kneeling crowd of citizens Shouting for a miracle.
I suddenly realized that my pants were hot and I reached for my system-rewarded Eye of Truth monocle. A golden caption appeared on the lens:
"Space-time pollution source detected: polyethylene products of the 21st century
Auto-fix activated → Generating a legend story
The Rainbow Contract of Olympus is complete."
"What is this?" I put on my glasses, and I saw the sweet wrappers being enshrined in the Parthenon, and the priests had framed them with olive wood, and I said, "Is your system also writing myths?"
The hamster light ball suddenly froze: "Warning! Newbie reward overdraft, activate penalty mode..."
Before I knew it, the system snapped into a stuffed hamster doll and stuck right on top of my head. A piece of parchment pops up from his belly:
"Temporary hosting mode is enabled
Ask the host to complete within 24 hours:
1. Fix the fading problem of Da Vinci's Lady with a Silver Sable
2. Stop teen Newton from being knocked out by an apple
3. Comb Cleopatra's cat
(Failure will permanently receive hamster ears)"
"What genius wrote this to-do list? " I held the hamster around, and it made a mechanical voice with a different tone: "Meow ~ low energy ~ Suggested feeding philosophy ~"
There was a violent tremor in the space-time tunnel, and my back crashed into a cloud that looked like cotton candy. Florence in 1503 unfolds below, and the roof of Da Vinci's studio is smoking from a hole - or rather, from some explosive experimental device breathing fire.
"New apprentice candidate detected." The hamster suddenly comes back to life, PAWS pointing down. "Reminder: You still have the leftover glow marbles from the beginner's gift pack in your pocket."
I touched the linen bag, my fingertips touching the cold pellets. From the attic came a frantic cry: "Why is the ochre always moldy? This is not hydrodynamic!"
"Listen," I tucked the hamster back into my collar, "there's no way this is going to mess up."
"This system is recorded as proof." The hamster's tail flicked out a miniature phonograph. "By the way, your left Nike is still on the beam of Socrates' house."
I looked down at my bare right foot, and the space-time vortex had swallowed the last of the starlight