Space Core

POV: Harry Terria

I stayed quiet, listening to the ramblings of the clearly insane man named Trevor. I didn't know what to do, really, because if the guy can just make fire not work because he doesn't want to... I don't wanna know what he would think of me trying to leave.

"Hmm, Hey! You Know, You Know. You Remind Me Of Someone! Ohhhh Yes! You Two Are Very Very Parallel I Tell You!" The man(?) said.

I was still too uncertain to say anything too carelessly. And so, I stuck to being somewhat polite. "Oh, uhm, really? I don't think I've ever met someone similar to me... will I ever meet them?"

The man-who-should-be-dead cackled, his eyes roaming across his shelves while his hands fiddled with a rather strange, long, piece of wood. "Oh! No! No! You Won't Meet Him, No! Because He's Dead! Dead I Tell You! Oh Yes, Dead!"

A laugh escaped the man, his voice distorted and off-key. The loud noise really wasn't easy on the ears. Deciding to cut his dangerously lethal laughter, I asked another question in a rather rushed tone of voice.

"A-Alright then. What do you... uhm, sell, in this 'store'?"

One of his eyes stopped moving and just looked at me. The other was still normal... somehow.

"Yes! Yes! I Have Lots And Lots For You To Buy! I Have Animal Parts! I Have Death And Glory In A Bottle! I Have Wands! I Have Bombs! I Have Magic, Yes Magic! And Potions, Lots Of Potions!"

I felt way too weirded out, animal parts, wands? All of this makes no sense! But, still, I responded. The man may be a bit insane, but the least I can do is offer some decency.

"...What do you mean by Death and Glory in a bottle? Isn't that a bit... contradicting?"

A grin spread on his face.

"It's Death! It's Glory! It's Both! You Die In A Glorious Way! You May Be Dead, But You'll Have Become The Most Important Death Of The Battle!"

My lips involuntarily pressed together. The man's grin grew wider.

"Don't Like That?! Do You!? Do You?! I Got Whatever You Need! Always, Always!"

I nodded in silence, the weird oil-looking substance spread on the wood seemingly reaching out for me. I moved a little bit to try to get it away.

"What If, What If! I Know! I Know! Your Class! Your Class! It's Having Problems, Isn't It, Isn't It! I Know How To Make It Right, I Know!"

My eyes widened. How did the man know? Could I trust him? I'm not sure. But... that chance to fix my class... it's too good to pass up, who knows what kind of advantage it could give me?

"I-" I quickly looked down, "Tell me how."

The man's grin had widened so much, that I was certain the skin was going to break. I'm not even speaking of the fact that his eyes aren't coordinated at all.

"You Ask! You Ask Them!"

"Ask who?"

"Those that are reading of course."

"What? What did you say... I couldn't hear you correctly..." That's an understatement, all I could hear was garbage noise.

"Don't Worry! Don't Worry! Just Ask! Just Ask! Give It A Theme I say! A Theme! Ask For A Theme! For A Class! Not Permanent, No! No! You Will Ask More! More!"

I stood there dumbfounded. Had the man just asked to make up my own class- well, more like make a theme for it, but still. And ask who? The air?

But still, I tried. And so I looked up at the ceiling of the shop -it was covered in spider webs- and asked. "Uhm... could I get a class? With the 'theme' of..." I came to a blank as to what theme I would want until something suddenly jumped into my mind. "With the 'theme' of Certe!"

A moment passed, and then another. Nothing happened. I was about to go insult Trevor when a burst of strange laughter filled my mind, the voice that of a little girl... but too knowledgeable to be one.

And then I fainted.

Please, reader, do tell me what class should or poor little Harry get. Don't worry though, it's only temporary. You'll have lots of opportunities to create more...

Please send in this format:

<Name>

<Description>

<Skills>

Do know that if the class is too op, it will not be chosen. I already have a 'God' as an MC, I don't need another one.