《Killing Blow [LitRPG Apocalypse]》


 1 - Breakfast at Night

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    For most of my adult life, I had been a traveler. A drifter. Settling down just long enough to earn enough money and trouble to get by before moving on again. It wasn¡¯t the worst thing. I was just on a quest, in a way. To find somewhere that I felt like I belonged.


    My current wanderlust had taken me to yet another city. Different name from the last, but just as similar. At present, I had delayed whatever looming disappointment I was inevitably going to drag myself through once there to stop in at a diner a few miles outside the city limits. It was late in the day, and I¡¯d worked up quite the appetite after driving for hours to get this far.


    Two plates of a fry-up and three coffees in, and I was hitting my limit. Both for my stomach and my slim wallet. Even a bottomless pit gets filled, eventually. I put a pause on edging myself closer to violently exploding with gluttony and glanced around the diner again. For perhaps the hundredth time.


    The place was small - quaint, almost. Even when I had arrived, there had been only a handful of quiet, zombie-like patrons. The number had dwindled as I sat and consumed the greasy food, down to just the one old man in a window booth now. Newspaper, coffee refills, and the occasional bathroom break. He didn¡¯t seem eager to leave despite it being dark out. We all had our places of escape - I couldn''t fault that.


    Around ten empty window tables sat in an L shape around the central diner counter. The floor was aged black-and-white tiles, long past the point where a good clean would get them to the same color as when they were installed. Up on one end near the bathrooms, a television flanked the long lit screen that showed the prices of all the menu items. It looked to be playing an old movie, but had been switched to silent, either some ticker or subtitles rolling across the bottom. I paid it no heed, as my meal had completely stolen the show.


    Despite my usual preference for keeping to myself, something about the good food had me lower my guard. Perhaps it was how isolated this place was, but I looked up at the young woman behind the counter and smiled, gesturing to my plate with the fork.


    ¡°Compliments to the chef,¡± I told the waitress. ¡°Best scrambled eggs I¡¯ve had in a long time.¡±


    She smiled and gave me a nod. Although I had been curt with her on arrival, she¡¯d been nothing but polite, able to read that I wasn¡¯t in the mood for conversation. Part of my brief disdain had been how the scrawny woman reminded me of myself when I was younger. Blonde hair down to her shoulders, bright eyes eager and friendly. Not so alike these days with those latter points, I thought, dryly.


    But It was enough of a mirror-image for me to feel a little at ease here. A rarity, helped along by my full stomach.


    ¡°I¡¯ll let her know,¡± she replied. ¡°Personally, I think they go best with the pancakes our line cook makes, but he¡¯s off this evening.¡± She wrinkled up her face as if his absence personally slighted her. They must be good pancakes.


    ¡°If I come back this way, I¡¯ll give them a try next time.¡± It wasn¡¯t likely. Getting itchy feet was a part-time hobby of mine, and I preferred to travel on new ground. These eggs¡­ might be enough to be worth backtracking a little, however.


    She adjusted her white blouse. The red tie around her neck matched her pleated skirt, which I assumed was a uniform as it had a very 50s aesthetic, much like the rest of the aged diner. I hadn¡¯t seen any other workers to know for sure. The young woman grabbed a cloth from behind the counter and started wiping things down.


    I observed her for a moment as I chewed through a slice of toast. She seemed a little too happy to be working this job so late at night, and her eyes kept drifting away from her work. ¡°Either you have a puppy behind the counter, or you¡¯re sneaking looks at your phone. A sweetheart, perhaps?¡±


    The waitress pulled a face and glanced toward the shuttered kitchen window. ¡°I¡¯m not supposed to be on it while on the clock, but yeah - the latter.¡± She reached down to bring her cell phone out from a shelf, a nervous smile on her face.


    She turned the phone around to show me. ¡°Just got our Halloween pictures back. He¡¯s a complete dork, but what can you do?¡±


    The illuminated screen was filled with a photograph of them both in costumes. Her partner had short brown hair and was overtly dressed a cliche vampire. Amongst a backdrop of faux spiderwebs and carved pumpkins, he was carrying the waitress in his arms. She appeared to be equally undead - perhaps a zombie.


    ¡°Wow, you look like you¡¯re the life of the party.¡± I gave her a polite smile, unsure if I was about to regret making small talk past discussing the food.


    ¡°Quite the opposite, actually.¡± She withdrew her phone to hide it again, glancing back to the kitchen to make sure she hadn¡¯t been caught in the act. ¡°We¡¯re both awkward nerds, but we just¡­ click, you know?¡±


    ¡°Sure.¡± I nodded. Not that I could say I knew firsthand. I changed the conversation to something that didn''t put me on edge. ¡°You know the city well?¡±


    ¡°Lived there all my life. You heading there for work?¡± She gestured to the suit I was wearing, which I thought looked far too grubby and casual to be something intended for business. Didn''t exactly fit me. For a good reason.


    ¡°Yeah. I¡¯ll need some cash so I can eat here every morning.¡± I smiled and withdrew my right hand into the sleeve of the dark navy jacket, suddenly self conscious about the bandage wrapped around my palm. The waitress had clocked it, but was too polite to pry. Still, I could read the concern on her face. I must look twice as suspicious as I felt.


    She wrinkled up her nose, hesitating a second, before pulling across a notepad and pen from further down the counter. ¡°Here.¡± She scribbled something on it. ¡°No pressure, but if you¡¯ve got nobody else local¡­¡± The waitress tore off the bottom of the paper and passed it over. ¡°We¡¯re going to a magic show this weekend. I could introduce you as my cool aunt?¡±


    I slid the piece of paper towards myself. A phone number and name. ¡°Thanks¡­ Sally. No promises, but I appreciate it.¡± With a nod of thanks, I stowed the slip into a pocket, slightly stunned at her offer. I''d probably discard it later. Magic wasn''t really my thing. ¡°Most people call me a slew of curse words, but to you¡­ Scarlet is fine.¡±


    ¡°Scarlet,¡± she repeated, pinning it down in her memory. There was some relief to her expression. Despite her outward sales-face, it had taken her some actual effort to extend that olive branch. Did I look that desperate? ¡°Can I get you anything else for tonight?¡± she offered.


    A difficult question. I was already pretty full, and any more caffeine would have me up until the early hours of the morning. The coffers weren¡¯t so overflowing that I could postpone my job hunting for another day just because I had a bad night of sleep. I needed... some degree of control of the waking day, even if it was going to be full of disappointment.The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    ¡°Just one more coffee before I get going,¡± I decided, against better judgement. My shoulder muscles tensed in complaint.


    With a nod, she went to go get the thick glass container of whatever had been slow-dripping all evening. I wasn¡¯t too fussy when it came to some vices. No sugar or milk, just whatever thick sludge was on offer. Better than alcohol, or-


    ¡°Bernie, sit yourself down and I¡¯ll order you a cab.¡± Sally admonished the only other patron now left in the diner. ¡°I have no idea why you stayed so late today.¡±


    I raised an eyebrow and turned to look at the old man. Early to mid eighties, perhaps. Dark gray hair and a wrinkled face that made it look like he had spent most of his life smiling. Even now, under the scowl of the waitress, he seemed in good spirits - even if a little out of it.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be fine,¡± he griped in return, shuffling slowly to face her. ¡°I walk to the city and back regularly. You know this, dear.¡±


    ¡°Not this late at night,¡± she snapped back. ¡°It¡¯s not the distance, but when you need the bus, you won¡¯t see the stop at night. You don¡¯t know what¡¯s out in the darkness.¡±


    ¡°I eat plenty of carrots.¡± He adjusted his blue cardigan and stood taller. ¡°My night sight is impeccable.¡±


    Sally rolled her eyes and stepped back over to dig out her phone again. ¡°That¡¯s a myth,¡± she murmured, just loud enough for him to hear it. The waitress caught my raised eyebrow and gestured to the impatient old timer. ¡°Bernie is a regular here¡­ like for at least a decade, right? Usually goes home before dusk.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± I turned in my chair to regard him. Seemed harmless enough. The waitress had disarmed me with her friendliness, and I continued to step out of my comfort zone. ¡°I¡¯m heading into the city myself. I could give you a lift?¡±


    Bernie¡¯s dazed eyes turned to me as if seeing me for the first time. He wavered and a wide smile creased at his face. ¡°Far be it for me to turn down the offer of a beautiful young lady. Although you¡¯ll have to behave yourself.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure I can manage.¡± I shot him a wry smile before tilting my gaze back to Sally. ¡°Cancel that coffee, hun.¡±


    ¡°Not a problem, Scarlet. You¡¯re a lifesaver, thank you.¡±


    ¡°Eh.¡± I shrugged, partly unsure as to why I had offered. I wasn¡¯t exactly a good samaritan even on my best days. I blamed the egg for scrambling my normally sour outlook. As I arranged my cutlery on the plate, I smiled at Sally. ¡°Wait till you see how I low I tip before complimenting me too much.¡±


    She grinned and slid me over the bill. I held my breath and got my money holder out, under the edge of the counter. For my eyes only. I thumbed through some loose bills before placing them on top of the receipt. I watched her eyebrow raise, and she took it to the till to count it.


    ¡°Let¡¯s just say you owe me some pancakes,¡± I said, standing and brushing myself down before she could make any note on it. My pockets held everything expected after a quick pat to check, and my bags were still in the van. Exhaling through my nose, I gave the diner a quick once-over to make sure it was really just us few left. My bandaged hand itched as I clenched it. Yeah, it was just us. Thank fuck.


    ¡°It¡¯s a deal.¡± Sally smiled and waved me off. ¡°You take care, and good luck in the city. You¡¯re not alone.¡±


    Although I smiled in return, the expression faded from my face as soon as I was out of her sight. Her message was more ominous than comforting. The platitude would be sweet, but it wasn''t something I cared to hear. I pushed the door open, causing the small bell atop it to jingle, and held it open for Bernie to shuffle out into the cool night air.


    It wasn¡¯t difficult to find my vehicle, as it was one of only two there. Bathed in scant diner lighting, the small van was a workhorse. Dusty and overdue a checkup, but it could be put off until something happened to it. Once the issue was forced. Then I¡¯d probably need to take it out back and put it down. Then find a way to move about without it.


    I stopped by the driver¡¯s side to watch the old man move over. He paused to look up at the sky, and I followed his gaze.


    Out here in the near-desert beyond the city outskirts and background light of civilization, the stars were bright and detailed. I was briefly enthralled, and¡­ calm about everything. As if looking out into the void helped wash away at my own shadows. My right eye twitched the familiar sinking feeling of dread settled back in.


    My eyes went down to the dark road from where I had traveled from. ¡°Is this why you wanted to stay at the diner so late?¡± I asked, turning back to him and gesturing to the sky.


    He nodded, almost absentmindedly, before looking down at me. ¡°Margaret loved the stars. Used to prod me with silly questions, like asking why they didn¡¯t fall down. I always told her if they ever did, I¡¯d catch one for her. Pin it in her dark hair, so she could be my own little galaxy to gaze upon, even in the daytime.¡± He smiled, but some tiredness had come across his expression.


    ¡°Let¡¯s get you home, Bernie.¡±


    I got in and shut the door, before looking to see if he was having issues getting in. He had paused, as there was something on the seat in his way. A hammer.


    ¡°Keen on doing repairs?¡± he asked, smiling as I moved it away and stuffed it into my jacket pocket awkwardly.


    ¡°You never know when you need to fix something.¡± My returned smile was probably not as convincing. Or break something, I thought.


    The interior light bloomed a soft amber as I started the van up. The vibration of the engine threatened to give up the ghost, but only to the degree where I would start to worry it wouldn¡¯t run. Then it was fine, as if just playing a trick on me. Dirty rat. The small bobble-head cat ornament on my dash shook with glee. Back on the road again.


    I pulled out of the diner parking lot and joined the main road. The city sat ahead of us on the horizon, dots of hundreds of lights almost looking as though the stars had indeed fallen. Too ordered, though. Such an event would be pure chaos. No wonder I was driving toward it. I shook these thoughts from my head.


    ¡°You really make this walk regularly?¡± I asked Bernie, to distract myself.


    ¡°Once or twice a week. It keeps me active. There is a bus part of the way - I don¡¯t have superpowers.¡± He smiled, looking out at the darkness in his side window. ¡°Margaret used to walk with me before she passed five years ago. Used to be our thing.¡±


    ¡°She sounds like a lucky gal. Were you married long?¡±


    ¡°Highschool sweethearts.¡± His hands were clasped together on his lap, fingers shaking a little. Still had that soft smile across his face.


    I wasn¡¯t even sure where to take the conversation from there. The whole thing made me feel¡­ tired. Not something the coffee could fix. Perhaps it was just an overload of saccharine sweetness from this man. I wasn¡¯t used to it. Couldn''t... find any common ground, really.


    He¡¯d found purpose through his routine, despite his losses. Part of me felt I should grasp as something there. A lesson that fell through my hands like loose sand. Maybe this evening had been one long mistake in the making. I should have kept to myself.


    I let the silence take us further down the road, before the man eventually spoke up.


    ¡°You hurt your hand, dear? Nothing bad, I hope?¡±


    My fingers tensed in response, as I glanced at the passenger to see that he was looking at my bandaged hand. ¡°No. I was just¡­ careless.¡±


    He nodded and waited to see if I would expand on that. I did not. He sought to fill the silence instead.


    ¡°There was this one time where Margaret¡­¡± his tale faded away¡ªinterrupted by a loud sound that rumbled through the air around us.


    Thunder? That didn¡¯t seem possible with how clearly we had been able to see the stars. The weather was meant to be pleasant all week, last time I¡¯d checked.


    I leaned forward with a frown, closer to the steering wheel, to look up at the cloudless sky. Seemed¡­ normal. As I opened my mouth to ask Bernie what he thought, his phone starting beeping¡ªcausing him to startle unexpectedly.


    Mine set off just a split second later, sending a wave of panic through me as it also vibrated in my pocket. It was a shrill but unfamiliar tone, like my morning alarm, but nothing I had set. It wasn¡¯t a call either. My stomach dropped, and I felt sick. Bernie patted his pockets, trying to find his cell.


    ¡°Must be the pharmacist,¡± he mumbled. ¡°Not due yet though¡­ unless it¡¯s Monday already?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s Wednesday,¡± I replied idly, as I pulled the van over to the side of the road. There was no chance I was going to hit a wild animal or paranormal entity while being distracted by my phone. I knew how these things worked and the less accidental violence I could get into tonight, the better.


    Neither of our phones stopped wailing. I leaned forward and drew mine from my pocket. Bastard thing was supposed to be on silent, but it never worked properly after that time I dropped it when¡­


    My blood ran cold as I read through the text message.

 2 - Difficult to Digest

    <div>


    >Emergency Alert. This is not a drill. Heavy loss of life expected. Proceed to your nearest emergency bunker or shelter in place. This is not a drill.


    What the fuck?


    My eyes ran over the message again to be sure that I had read it correctly. The sender was unrecognized and there was no way to reply. It didn¡¯t seem to be spam or some kind of prank, despite my thundering heartbeat hoping this wasn¡¯t what it looked like.


    Even though I didn¡¯t actually know what it looked like. Nothing good.


    While adrenaline ran through me, I looked over at Bernie to see how he was taking the news. He was squinting at his phone, clearly at a loss without reading glasses. I exhaled through my nose to calm my nerves before speaking to him.


    ¡°Here, let me look.¡± I held out my bandaged hand, and he placed it there without argument. I was usually a lot snappier when stressed, but I wouldn¡¯t be able to handle the guilt if I started being a bitch to Bernie.


    Half of the message was off the bottom of the screen due to his phone being smaller and the font much larger, but it said the exact same thing as mine. No indication whether this was a warning just for the city area, state, or the whole country.


    As I started to feel out of my depth, I hand the phone back over.


    ¡°Something terrible, dear?¡± His eyebrows were raised, anticipating the bad news that he could clearly read from my expression.


    ¡°There¡¯s something¡­ we need to go to a bunker to be safe.¡± Safe from what, though? Was there a storm on the way that I hadn¡¯t noticed on the news? We had heard that rumble, but surely not - otherwise the other diner patrons would have said something. My thoughts briefly went to the two still there. I wasn¡¯t in the market for making friends, but they seemed like genuinely good people. Few and far between in my life.


    The sky looked clear, so inclement weather didn¡¯t fit the bill. Was it war? A nuclear attack? Perhaps a wild leap to assume that after thinking it was a storm, but my paranoia had spiked, the text message somehow managing to be something worse than I had expected.


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure where any bunkers are,¡± Bernie said, his eyes scanning the darkness around us. ¡°Perhaps I shouldn¡¯t have stayed out so late today.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll¡­ keep you safe, Bernie.¡± It probably didn¡¯t sound as convincing I had hoped. Rather than spiral around with my thoughts again, I brought up my phone, hoping it had answers rather than further problems for me.


    The reception indicator ticked down before signaling it was completely inert, as if my glare had caused the problem. No internet or emergency network. There was a notification that caused me to furrow my brow. I hadn¡¯t even seen it pop up - but swiping it down revealed it to be something telling me the Map application had been updated.


    I opened it up to find that the usual satellite imagery had been replaced by something very basic. Only the current road was present, the diner and any other landmarks not shown. Aside from the white line of our route through the gray of the desert area, there was only one other thing I could see. A bunker.


    ¡°Looks like we have a destination,¡± I informed the man, although I was mostly trying to reassure myself. It was out west from here, in the arid area. ¡°Best hold on, hun. It¡¯ll be a rough ride.¡±


    ¡°Duck and cover,¡± he murmured in an almost pavlovian response. Despite looking even more out of place and unsure as to what was going on, he gripped at the furnishing of the van to keep stable.


    I felt bad for him. What had been a mischevious treat in staying out later than normal had turned into being near kidnapped by a mysterious and grouchy woman, intending to take him out to an unknown building in the desert where the world might end. Well, I didn¡¯t know it that was that dire yet, but this was certainly more than he had bargained for.


    Placing my phone on the magnetic holder on the dash, I turned the keys to get us out of here. The van whirred, and the engine turned over, but it didn¡¯t start up. A second twist and it spluttered, failing again.


    A louder rumble shattered itself through the sky as if the heavens were cracking in half like an egg.


    ¡°C¡¯mon you¡­ asshole,¡± I hissed at the van, turning the keys once more. I was rewarded with a reluctant vibration as the engine powered into life. As I turned the wheel to the left, I let out a sigh of relief. ¡°Alright, here goes nothing.¡±


    ¡°There was no lightning,¡± Bernie mentioned idly, his eyes still out of the window. I could see his knuckles were white as he maintained his grip on the van interior.


    The vehicle lurched and bounced as we rolled over the brief ditch at the side of the road. Once we had made it fully over, I started accelerating toward the dot on the Map. Eager to get there before things got worse, but aware that driving through the empty desert at night was probably a terrible idea. Such things seemed to be compounding as the minutes drew on.


    Not that I was eager to be locked away, either. I hated being locked up. While Bernie was as affable as a person I¡¯d ever met, I wasn¡¯t sure how I¡¯d handle being shut away for a long period of time with anyone. I was a loner by choice, of course. The fingers on my bandaged hand flexed against the steering wheel.


    The headlights picked up a decent cone of the way ahead, and thankfully, most of this area was just arid. I swerved slightly to avoid clumps of dried vegetation, but other than the constant dust billowing around us and the clatter of gravel pelting the underside of the van, it had been a smooth ride so far.


    I glanced over at Bernie, who was looking just as sick as I felt. Perhaps some small talk would help calm him. I resented myself for the idea.


    ¡°So¡­ that Sally is extremely friendly,¡± I managed, despite my jaw being almost fused closed from the stress.


    ¡°Oh, she certainly is.¡± A slight smile cracked at the corner of his mouth. ¡°She likes to help people, even if that means telling me off sometimes.¡±


    ¡°I just thought it was odd that she invited me to hang out¡­¡± It was almost suspicious. ¡°Do I look like I need that kind of charity?¡±


    ¡°By the way that you wolfed down your food, dear... I couldn''t say.¡±


    I opened and closed my mouth before seeing the smile on his face. ¡°Well, perhaps you¡¯re right. I could do with a shower and a change of clothes as well. Three days on the road... there were several reasons I was looking forward to finding a hotel tonight.¡±


    Perhaps I could see the reason the waitress wanted to extend a helping hand. From her perspective, I probably looked mentally ill or homeless. A lost soul in need of guidance. Far too trusting of her, even if she was partially right. Still, I missed that kind of naivety.


    ¡°I hope that they find their way out here as well,¡± I eventually said. Despite my waning desire to be around other people, I didn¡¯t want anything bad to happen to them. Maybe this city could be the one.


    With the current issue at hand, that seemed less likely.


    ¡°I believe they¡¯ll be fine. She might look like she¡¯d blow away in the breeze, but Sally is resourceful. The owner, Miss Doris, is a bit of a battleaxe herself.¡± Bernie leaned a little closer to me. ¡°Don¡¯t tell her I said that, though.¡±The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    ¡°Your secret is safe with me, Bernie.¡± There was some irony in the world deciding to end on the one evening I let my guard down and tried to act normal. As if reality had seen the opportunity to kick dirt in my eyes as soon as I let the suspicion wash away.


    The vehicle shook as we hit a rougher area of ground, and the muscles in my arms locked up. We were almost halfway there now. I wondered how much time we had left. Idle thoughts cut short as I took a sharp breath by reflex.


    I hadn''t seen the rocks quick enough. The glare of the headlights managed to obscure the grouping of jutting stone until it was too late for me to turn away.


    ¡°Fuck!¡± I swore as we struck them. The van bucked like a wild horse, growling as it bounced a few times before we slid to a stop. Dust washed around us in a cloud as the engine ticked idly. As if it was tutting at me.


    The headlights flickered before remaining on, but there was clearly something wrong with the vehicle.


    ¡°Sorry for the rough ride, Bernie.¡± I turned to him. ¡°Are you okay?¡±


    ¡°In one piece,¡± he replied, his eyes wide as he continued to brace himself against the door. ¡°I¡¯m afraid I¡¯m not too sharp when it comes to motor repair.¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°Pretty sure the axle is fucked, hun. Unless you can carry the van, then this is where it¡¯ll have to stay. We don¡¯t have too far to walk.¡±


    While he nodded his acceptance, I passed him my phone to hold. Perhaps keeping an eye on the Map would help focus his thoughts so he didn¡¯t get too worried. I leaned back and pulled out my go-bag from behind the passenger seat. It didn¡¯t have much in it, but for staying in a bunker, I wasn¡¯t sure most of my stuff in the van would be useful either.


    Not when we were in a rush.


    I stepped out of the van, leaving the headlights on. They would at least light up our journey for a few moments, and perhaps could guide help toward us when this calamity blew past. I slung the bag over my shoulder. Or it could point worse things our way. The side door closing drew my thoughts over to Bernie, who was glancing between the phone and myself.


    ¡°Looks like you¡¯ll get a walk in after all, huh?¡± I gave him the best smile could muster, which he returned with a nod.


    Now that we were out of the van, my eyes went over to the city as we started out walk across the dry stone and loose sand. There was clearly something going on there. Odd lighting, which I assumed to be flames and sirens, flickered between some of the tall buildings. Straining my ears, I could even hear alarms and the occasional louder burst of noise making its way across the empty plains.


    I was most surprised that there were no vehicles coming down the road. Even if the city had plenty of bunkers, there would surely be some people desperate enough to escape to go other places, even if a terrible idea. But as far as I could see, nothing had left the city¡ªat least in this direction.


    With a shiver, I stepped closer to Bernie to check the map with him. Should only be a few minutes at this pace. He had found a speed setting urged on by the panic, but I could tell by his gait that it wasn¡¯t sustainable.


    ¡°Hang on, I¡¯m not sure what the battery life is like, but¡­¡± I zipped open my bag and my hand dug around blindly. Ah, there it was. I pulled out a head torch. With a flick of a switch, it turned on¡ªnot as bright as it should be, but it was better than the dim light of my phone for guiding us now that we were moving away from the light provided by the van.


    ¡°You wear it, dear. I spend most of the time looking at my feet.¡±


    I nodded and pulled it over my head, realizing now how greasy my hair felt. The chances of the bunker having a shower were slim, but I had hope.


    We saw the silhouette of the bunker before the headlamp had a chance to illuminate it. Rather small, but that made sense if most of it was going to be underground. It was tempting to run toward it, but I couldn¡¯t leave Bernie behind. Things out in the world hadn¡¯t gotten worse just yet, so I assumed that we had at least a few more minutes to get inside.


    I paused, my muscles suddenly tensing up, as I heard a noise out to my left. They couldn¡¯t have found me like this? My eyes switched to that side, and I saw something in my peripheral.


    Two red lights¡ªno, they were eyes staring at me. Low to the ground, so some manner of animal.


    ¡°What is it, dear?¡± Bernie asked, unsure as to why I had stopped so close to our goal.


    ¡°Stay behind me, and keep moving, okay?¡± I murmured, my hand going to my pocket as I turned my head.


    There was a snuffling sound and something scratching against stone. My headlamp slowly painted a cone of light as I rotated in place. Almost ninety degrees to my left, it picked up the squat figure of what had been stalking us.


    ¡°Is that a boar?¡± Bernie asked, his voice quieter.


    Normally, I¡¯d probably agree with him. The short, chunky body covered in coarse hair certainly fit that assumption. Stubby legs. Tusks like a warthog. I hadn¡¯t seen one with this kind of fur pattern, however. It was sandy and brindle - more like a hyena. The fact that not only was the animal¡¯s eyes red, but this wasn¡¯t a natural habitat for boars, told me something wasn¡¯t right.


    It kicked up sand with its front foot, readying to charge like a bull. I didn''t know enough about boars to know if they were nocturnal or this aggressive either. Rabies? I glanced over at the bunker. I had no confidence that I could outrun it, let alone get Bernie there safely.


    I started to step away from it, backwards, keeping myself between it and the older man. He could read the situation well enough to start off towards the bunker, his eyes now looking around to see if anything else dangerous was lurking in the darkness.


    And then, seeing us retreating, it charged. Squealing, it powered across the sand, kicking up loose dust as it barreled toward me. Anger and disbelief had me act. I pulled out the hammer from my pocket, right hand aching as I gripped it tight.


    Adrenaline ran through me, and I tried to stand tall to intimidate it. ¡°Fuck off!¡± I yelled, acting as threatening as I was able. It didn¡¯t even hesitate. I swung down at it, expecting the boar to bash into my leg¡ªbut it leaped instead.


    My attack lightly grazed the side of its head as we collided and collapsed to the floor. The smell of sweat and urine washed over me as the small feet scrabbled and scratched at my skin through my shirt. It was heavy as fuck. I growled as it swiped its head at me, the tusk scratching across my collarbone and narrowly missed goring through my neck.


    Blood soaked through the fabric of my white shirt as I grabbed at the animal''s neck with my left hand. While it tried to twist its snout away to escape the press of my arm, I caught a back leg between my thighs and pinned it in place. The boar stomped its forelegs across my chest and side, and I brought the hammer in.


    It squealed and sneezed moisture across my face on the first blow. The second one struck it in the skull, but it hardly even noticed it, weathering the attack completely. I could feel the energy leaving my body. I had to gain the advantage before my arm holding its mouth away gave out. I put all my effort into a third strike, and it paused, dazed.


    I twisted, pushing it off of me, and it stumbled over while I still held a back leg. Before it had the chance to regain its senses, I brought the hammer down on the side of its head again. And then another two, three times. The muscles in my arms burned as I allowed my pent up anger and frustrations seal the deal for certain. The wild animal slumped heavily to the ground.


    My breathing was haggard as I stood back up to shaking legs. My whole chest ached. Bruised and scraped to shit. I could feel my heartbeat throbbing in the cut along my collarbone. After a brief moment where I just stared down at the inert boar, willing it to try me again, I shook my head and looked over at Bernie.


    He didn¡¯t look too good.


    ¡°Are you okay, dear?¡± he asked, his mouth barely getting the words out.


    ¡°Peachy.¡± I wiped the gore off my hammer on my slacks and pocketed the weapon. ¡°Let¡¯s get inside the bunker.¡±


    He didn¡¯t have any arguments, and I was currently feeling rather out of it. Being locked away in a vault while injured was even worse, but I had protected Bernie. Mostly so that I didn¡¯t have to nurse any of his wounds, I tried to tell myself. I was just too tired to be full of sourness. Too achy.


    The brickwork of the bunker seemed new, which was partially odd. As my headlight illuminated it, the door looked to be around the side. I almost felt relieved to be this close to it. I led Bernie around to the front, keeping my eyes on the darkness to make sure there weren¡¯t more odd animals awaiting us.


    Seemed safe.


    The doorway was like a bank vault. Big metal wheel to spin and open it up. I didn¡¯t waste any time and gripped at it, another pain flaring up in my hand. I clenched my jaw and twisted, some resistance given before it turned and spun. It groaned as I opened it wide enough to let Bernie in. ¡°Careful as you go in,¡± I told him.


    ¡°Yes, dear,¡± he responded, some of his old charm managing to pierce through the white sheet he had now become.


    I scanned around us before stepping in. One last look at the world for who knew how long? Somewhat disappointed to see that we were alone, somewhat glad.


    After pulling the door closed, I spun it on the inside to lock it again. Turning around, there was another similar door at the bottom of some metal stairs¡ªBernie was already almost at the bottom. Already, I felt enclosed. Claustrophobic. Small caged lights sat in the wall, providing dim light leading down.


    Autopilot kept me moving, however. Dealing with stressful situations¡­ I was like a duck to water. Not usually this dire, but life was full of surprises. Once I reached the bottom of the stairs, I helped open the next vault, letting Bernie through once more before stepping through myself.


    I closed it and stopped, leaning my forehead against the cold metal.


    Now I was¡­ exhausted. I hadn¡¯t realized that I had been so out of breath still from the drive and scuffle with the boar. Soaked with fresh sweat and shaking slightly. It was a miracle I had kept all my food down after being roughed about, and I was lucky to not have any broken ribs. Tomorrow would still be agony.


    But we had made it, whatever that really meant.


    ¡°Are you sure this is a bunker, dear?¡± Bernie¡¯s voice echoed slightly.


    I blinked away the draw of sleep, and turned around, wondering what could really go wrong now.


    My brow furrowed at the sight of something completely unexpected.

 3 - From the Stars

    <div>


    When the word ¡®bunker¡¯ had first come up, my mind had brought forward images that wouldn¡¯t look out of place in a World War Two documentary. Or rather, that''s probably precisely where I got the imagery from. A long, dusty memory from my childhood. Dingy lights, fading white paint on brick walls, basic metal bunk beds with plain covers. Rows of shelving holding anything canned and preservable. That very gritty feeling of being underground and having to make do best you could.


    While the actual bunker I now found myself in wasn¡¯t the complete opposite, it was enough of a contrast to make my brain freeze for a few moments and take it in.


    Rather than sprawling rooms dug out and sectioned off for different purposes, this was wholly a single chamber. Maybe twenty-five to thirty feet square. The brickwork was tidy and contemporary. Modern and unblemished in a way that seemed to further indicate that it had been built recently. The almost soft-blue lighting illuminating everything picked up the shapes that were the true focus of Bernie¡¯s confusion.


    Three¡­ pods on each side of the room, left and right.


    My immediate point of reference was that they looked like they were straight out of a science fiction movie. Metallic cylinders with glass panels from the waist to just above the head area. Tilted back at a slight angle so that the occupants could relax a little while they¡­ did something. They looked like alien germination chambers or cryogenic containers to keep us safe during whatever was happening to the world. That couldn¡¯t be the case, surely?


    ¡°This is¡­ strange,¡± I eventually managed.


    Bernie gave me a slight nod as he tried to look through the glass of one of the pods. ¡°I thought there might be radiation suits in them, but they¡¯re empty.¡±


    I went to open my mouth again, before the back wall flickered as if it was a giant screen. With a wince, I watched as rows of text appeared on the possibly projected monitor.


    Calamity In Progress


    Proceed to the STAR Chambers.


    Stand and defend Earth.


    Existence requires it. Save the World.


    ¡°Save the world,¡± I repeated. ¡°What the fuck?¡± My mind was too busy swinging between this being a weird dream or some kind of prank, that I didn¡¯t realize the most obvious thing right in front of me.


    As my chest continued to ache, the drips of a very real threat ran through the cracks in my overwhelmed mind.


    There were no facilities here to survive long term. No food. Beds. Bathroom or medical supplies. We weren¡¯t¡­ meant to stay here.


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure I¡¯m spritely enough to be a hero,¡± Bernie said, taking me out of the momentary panic. He had his eyes squinted at the screen, concentrating on the words.


    I looked over at the pods again. Maybe it was some kind of viral epidemic? A disease or something airborne that we needed to be inoculated against. A problem that was either brief, or something that would take a short amount of time for us to recover from - hence the bunker being so basic.


    ¡°Only one way to find out, right?¡± I gave him the most confident smile I was able. Given that my chest twitched with pain at the attempt, it probably came out as more of a grimace.


    ¡°Hmm.¡± He turned slowly, running his eyes over the room. ¡°Anything you see here that is slightly odd, dear?¡±


    I tried to follow his gaze, but other than noticing the machines had ¡®STAR¡¯ embossed at the tops of the pod, the answer was rather straightforward. ¡°Uh, pretty much everything, Bernie.¡±


    The man gave me a soft smile before his eyes went back to his search, gesturing with his hand. ¡°Something like this... there would be a government agency involved. They are always eager to stick their claim to something. There are no logos or crests, however.¡±


    While I was keen to dig into this interesting nugget of clarity and perhaps something about his past life, I felt the current situation was more pressing. The text on the screen hadn¡¯t changed, but it felt like we were running out of time.


    ¡°What are you saying, then? This¡­ STAR is like a private company or something?¡± The possibility of this being something ten times more untoward that I first thought flashed through my mind. I had seen a few SAW movies. Still, the city had seemed to be in disarray, so we couldn¡¯t have been picked up specifically.


    ¡°No idea.¡± Bernie offered me an apologetic shrug, some tiredness on his expression once more. ¡°At this point, I could do with a lie down no matter who built this. How are you feeling?¡±


    I almost blurted out that was fine, before reeling that thought back. I wasn¡¯t. ¡°Overwhelmed. I just beat the brains out of a wild animal who almost tore my throat out. We are shut in a bunker where our options are getting in these contraptions or facing an unknown and possibly fatal threat.¡± I sighed and rubbed at my head. ¡°Was it too much to ask for a shower, a soft bed, and a little peace? Just for one night?¡±


    In answer to my wailings, the monitor gave out a light beep. We turned our attention to it and read the new line of text that had appeared.


    Local threat level increasing.


    ¡°Jesus Christ,¡± I whispered.


    Bernie nodded, turning his eyes back to me. ¡°I think I¡¯ll take my chances with these booths, dear.¡±


    Part of me wanted to dissuade him, but I didn¡¯t know why. It wasn¡¯t like we had a lot of choice, but I was full of scrambled eggs and blunt force trauma. I had tried to be more risk averse as of late so as to not invite more trouble into my life¡­ but perhaps it was time to just grab the bull by the horns.


    ¡°Alright. Let me help you get in one,¡± I offered. ¡°Then I¡¯ll go in the one opposite, so we should be able to see each other still?¡±


    ¡°So thoughtful.¡± One of his more charming smiles crossed his face. ¡°Perhaps I should give you my number as well.¡±


    I rolled my eyes as I led him over to one of the metal cylinders. ¡°Less flirting, more surviving the end of the world. Too soon to see if I have any friend slots open.¡±


    His grin continued, and he gave me a nod. ¡°You¡¯re a kind soul, Scarlet.¡±


    ¡°Eh. You caught me on a good day.¡± I wrapped my hand into the handle on the right side of the end pod. ¡°Or, well, as good as you could consider this day.¡±


    Bernie looked down at my hand. ¡°Did you want to explain more about how you were careless?¡±


    I hesitated, an odd question to suddenly jab me with. With the world possibly ending, perhaps letting a few things go wouldn''t be so bad... ¡°Have you ever¡­ crossed the wrong person?¡±


    His eyebrow raised. ¡°I¡¯m not sure if that¡¯s you opening up, or you are threatening me.¡±


    With a sigh, I reeled it back in. No energy. ¡°If we die because you¡¯re wasting time trying to squeeze my life story out, you¡¯ll find out how sour I can get.¡±


    He gave me a wink and a smile. ¡°Maybe later, then.¡±


    I pulled on the handle and the pod open up like a doorway, the circular front side rotating over hinges on the left. With some better lighting, I could see the near-vertical bed in there. Well, not a bed¡ªit looked more like a padded leather pilot¡¯s seat. Even had two elbow-height arm rests with handles to hold. Plain and inert, but the fact that we¡¯d need to brace ourselves was worrying. There was even a slight divot on the base for our feet to fit in.You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    Stepping out of the way, I gestured for Bernie to enter.


    Either he wasn¡¯t worried, or was much better at hiding it. There was an element of autopilot that resonated with me. Following a path because we had too few answers for the constant barrage of panicked questions.


    He grabbed the right handle and leaned into the back padding, shuffling his feet into place. Now, looking at me with some apprehension, he managed a smile. ¡°You know, a black blazer would look much smarter than your navy one, since you¡¯re wearing black slacks.¡±


    I looked down at my outfit. It had needed a good wash long before I rolled around in the dirt with the boar. Not really something I had put together with the intent of looking fashionable, but it was comfortable in a way. Reminded me of¡­ I shot the man a sour look. ¡°The tie would have brought it together, but I had already used it to tie something up.¡±


    ¡°Ominous,¡± he replied, gripping his left on the other handle.


    ¡°Van repairs,¡± I murmured, which was close enough to the truth. ¡°You ready?¡±


    Bernie gave me a slow nod, before then giving a series of slightly more sure ones. ¡°I¡¯m not getting any younger. Let¡¯s see where this rabbit hole leads.¡±


    I admired his confidence. The pod cover clipped in place as I pulled it back over, sealing him within. I took a step away, able to see him almost clearly. He seemed fine, still in good spirits. I¡¯m not claustrophobic, I convinced myself as I walked over to the pod opposite. The screen hadn¡¯t changed again, and there was no ambient noise coming from the outside world. Still, I felt the pressure of the unknown.


    With a deep breath through aching lungs, I gripped the door and pulled it open. The smell of fresh leather washed over me as I pulled my face at the identical internals. Locked in a box, locked in another box. It didn¡¯t make me feel any safer, though. Just¡­ pinned in place. Easy to find.


    I stepped in, sinking myself against the reasonably soft padded back. Grabbed the left handle and leaned forward to pull the front closed. I held my breath as it clipped in place, the slight hiss of it pressurising causing a spike of panic to run up my back.


    Now what? I hadn¡¯t thought this far ahead. It was enough to just go with the flow in hopes that we could emerge on the right side of whatever doom was happening outside.


    My view of Bernie across the room was suddenly obscured as a holographic blue screen painted itself across the inside of the glass. Text typed out across it, similar to how the bigger monitor looked. My injured right hand ached as I gripped the handle tighter.


    STAR Integration


    Scanning for Compatibility


    Please hold¡­


    I already was. My eyes almost burned with how intently I was glaring at this new horror. Why did I now have to worry about compatibility with something? I tried to regulate my breathing, and avoid thinking about this small space I was now stuck in.


    A blue light ran down from the top of the pod, washing over me from head to toes. I shivered involuntarily, as if the beam was cold. Just as soon as it reached the floor, it vanished, and the screen updated.


    95% Compatible.


    Please confirm Integration.


    Warning: Integration failure will result in death.


    STAR is required for survival.


    Death. ¡°What is this?¡± My mouth felt dry. It was acting as though I had a choice, but it looked to me that I was dead either way. The odds were decent, but gambling on my life was a little above my normal¡­


    My thoughts switched away, and I tilted my head to the side to see beyond the screen. I could just about see Bernie there. He looked to be reading his own holographic screen intently.


    ¡°Bernie?¡± I yelled, my voice no doubt muffled from having to travel through the two pods before reaching him. ¡°Are you okay? What does your scan say?¡±


    It took him a moment, but then he also tilted his head to see that I was addressing him. I couldn¡¯t tell if it was his confidence that had gone, or he was just concentrated and confused. ¡°Sorry, dear?¡± his voice came back quiet, dull.


    ¡°Compatibility. What¡¯s yours?¡±


    His eyes darted between me and the screen before him. ¡°Forty percent,¡± he replied.


    ¡°Shit¡­ fuck!¡± I clenched my jaw. How could I even advise him? It wasn¡¯t like I had any better idea of what we were getting ourselves into. ¡°That sounds dangerous¡­ I don¡¯t think you should-¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve already accepted.¡±


    For perhaps the fourth time tonight, my food rolled around my stomach, threatening to escape. I didn¡¯t fully understand the weight of the situation yet, but it was still pressed heavily on me. As much as I wanted out of this, there wasn¡¯t anything I could do.


    I let my more reckless side take over, if only so that I didn¡¯t fill the footwell with half-digested eggs. It always helped my focus when I had something immediately threatening me.


    With a deep breath, I hit the Yes button before I could change my mind. The screen updated.


    STAR Integration activated.


    Please remain stationary.


    System installation in process¡­


    It reminded me of having to update my computer¡ªback when I had one. Any problem with it, and I could just wipe everything clean and start over. Any potential irony in that statement left my mind as something jabbed me in the side of the neck.


    ¡°Fuck,¡± I murmured, trying not to wince away from wherever the needle had popped out from.


    Vertigo washed through my body, partially induced due to the flare of panic as I accepted my inevitable demise. That was a one in twenty chance. I had rolled a few natural ones in my brief time trying out tabletop gaming. Today felt like an unlucky day. They all were.


    A cold sensation bloomed from the point of injection, causing me to shiver as it felt as though ice was running through my veins. Not painful, but extremely uncomfortable. I hissed as I tightened my grip on the handles, knuckles white. The screen continued to remind me to stay put, and it took all I had to stop myself from squirming and trying to get away from the odd feeling.


    To distract myself, I tried to glare through the screen at Bernie. It wasn¡¯t quite transparent enough to make out much other than he was still there. No point shouting at him, and I doubted that I could even open my mouth enough to yell with how tense I was all over.


    As if to further my feeling out of place, a dull hum started to radiate through my ears. It wasn¡¯t coming from the pod itself, however. As I closed my eyes and tried to filter out the chill that was causing my bruised torso in agony, the pitch of it rose until it was like tinnitus. A constant ringing like my head was winding up to explode.


    A sudden jolt of warmth had my eyes opened wide. It was as if the chill spread throughout my veins had been switched with fire in an instant. I gasped for air as my lungs burned, sweat already starting to bead on my head from the fever.


    My ears popped, muting sounds for a while as the screen in front of me flickered. The text changed and my blurry eyes struggled to read the new message.


    STAR System Complete.


    Integration Successful.


    Any slight joy I might have had at not dying to this process was dulled, as my head felt like it was full of cotton wool. My lungs cooled as I sucked in more air, rasping as if I had been holding my breath the whole time. Just as my thoughts switched to Bernie, the screen zipped out of existence and the pod hissed and popped open itself.


    I took another few deep breaths, still pinned in place by my own panic, as I watched the pod opposite also open up. As the door swung open to the side, I could see Bernie there. His eyes were closed, and he was leaning back, relaxed.


    ¡°Bernie?¡± I croaked, my voice barely leaving my mouth. Was he dead? I needed to get closer to check.


    My aching hands slipped from the handles as I tried to take my first step, realizing too late that my legs were like jelly. I wobbled and stumbled before dropping to the ground. My arms had lost their strength too, and I struggled to push myself up so that I could look at him. Despite it being none of my concern and totally out of my control, I¡¯d never forgive myself if Bernie had passed due to this.


    I groaned as I tried to pull myself forward. My eyes burned as if I had dust in them, and constantly watered. Blinking didn¡¯t seem to help, like I was getting a migraine. My vision was spotty. Fuzzy at the edges.


    With a frown, I turned my head over to the side.


    Toward the doorway, there was the smell of something overwhelming that I couldn¡¯t place. Like burned out electrical components or ash. As my hearing gradually returned to normal, I could pick out a light crackling noise. Had something malfunctioned? I tried to scour both Bernie¡¯s pod and the ones beside his, but other than the visual artefacts getting in the way, I couldn¡¯t see anything out of the ordinary.


    Other than everything about this, still.


    I tempered my breathing and pushed myself up into a sitting position. Now able to prop myself up, I waited in anticipation for¡­ who knew what at this point? Was I now safe from whatever was plaguing the world? I didn¡¯t feel good. I didn¡¯t feel¡­ safe.


    The space between me at the metal door leading out of here seemed insurmountable in my current state, and all I wanted to do was run. To what end, though? I needed to check on Bernie, and I could just be escaping from the frying pan and into the fire.


    No. As soon as I was sure he was okay, we¡¯d need to plan to leave here. I could do this.


    Just as I had gathered my resolve, the crackling noise coming from the air ahead of me started to glow a blue light. At first it was just a small orb, like a marble¡ªbut it expanded.


    Too exhausted and blinded to really understand or do anything, I watched as the light grew longer and spread out. Shapes began to form. Legs and arms, the glowing blue contained by a faint wireframe mesh of white.


    It was a man. Dressed in a suit that put mine to shame, he didn¡¯t move until he was fully formed. While I sat frozen, he ran a hand through messy hair and adjusted his collar. A glum expression filled his face as he then glanced over at Bernie, before he looked back down at me.


    Although his mouth opened and closed as expected, his voice came through hollow and somewhat painful to my currently sensitive hearing.


    ¡°Welcome to the apocalypse, Scarlet,¡± he said.

 4 - Numbers Game

    <div>


    I didn¡¯t respond to the mysterious figure at first. Partly due to the fact that this felt like some weird dream. It couldn¡¯t be real. The other reason was that my eyes felt like they were about to burst out of my skull and any attempt to gather enough strength to stand was taking up what few mental processes I was able to hold together.


    The odd wireframe figure gestured towards Bernie. ¡°If you¡¯re worried about your friend, he isn¡¯t dead.¡±


    ¡°Who the fuck are you, and what did you do to us?¡± I managed to ask, my eyes still swimming with visual artefacts. Bernie wasn''t technically my friend, but that didn''t seem important to establish at present.


    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ a complicated thing to answer, Scarlet.¡± The man clasped his hands behind his back. ¡°Oh, I assume you do prefer ¡®Scarlet¡¯ rather than your real name?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± I responded through clenched teeth.


    ¡°Based on responses from other bunkers, I feel the easiest way to explain what is going on is something concise and simplified, with familiar pop-culture references.¡± He sighed and tried to give me a sensible stare. ¡°Earth is being attacked by aliens, and those pods gave you superpowers that you have to level up like a video game.¡±


    I returned a completely blank stare, the ire he had earned unable to change my disbelief.


    ¡°You¡­ are familiar with video games, I hope?¡±


    My head nodded as I blinked away the blur again. ¡°Sure, I mean it was back when my kid brother was¡­¡± I paused and tried to focus on the small blobs cluttering my vision. ¡°Shit, are these icons?¡±


    It was all becoming slightly more clear now. Wherever I looked, these small symbols were clinging to my eyesight as though I was wearing a virtual reality headset, or like one of those augmented reality games. Once I stopped fighting their appearance, my eyes ached less.


    ¡°It will be physically exhausting for fifteen or so minutes before it feels like you¡¯ve always had them,¡± the man tried to reassure me. ¡°Once you¡¯re settled, you should receive your first notification.¡±


    I wasn¡¯t entirely sure how to respond to him, or all of this in general. He was in the way of the door for me to flee. Not that I had the energy to make a run for it. Just as he had said, however, a blue box appeared at the top of my vision.


    [Welcome to the STAR System]


    [Please report to your Guide for induction.]


    After shaking my head to get it to go away, it vanished¡ªeither the physical action or my intense willpower doing the deed. Focusing on reality for a second, I glared at the wireframe figure. ¡°I suppose you¡¯re supposed to be my Guide?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid so.¡± He gave me a bow. ¡°Each bunker has their own Guide, and my role is to get you started out in the world. So that you don¡¯t die immediately.¡±


    ¡°Ignoring that part, who exactly are you? What is your name?¡±


    He tilted his head and gave me a slight smile. ¡°I¡¯m not really beholden to any title. Why don¡¯t you name me as you see fit?¡±


    With a grunt, I pushed myself up to my feet. I wavered slightly, but managed to maintain stability. My strength was slowly returning, but I wasn¡¯t in the mood for whatever games this man was playing, nor for his casual attitude toward whatever was going on in the world.


    I rolled out my shoulders and gave him a dull glare. ¡°How about Richard, since you¡¯re being a bit of a dick?¡±


    He shrugged. ¡°Fine with me. I¡¯ve certainly heard worse.¡± Richard gestured to the filled pod again. ¡°Bernie here is currently the oldest to have survived the process, although it was quite the ordeal for him. He¡¯ll be asleep a while with what we call ¡®System sickness¡¯.¡±


    ¡°So he will¡­ have superpowers too?¡± I pulled a face as I looked between the sleeping man and this holographic Guide giving me exposition. ¡°And this ¡®System¡¯ thing is like the rules of the video game?¡±


    ¡°Clever. Yes, to both questions.¡± Richard grinned. ¡°I¡¯m glad I won¡¯t have to hold your hand too much. You can imagine how difficult this ordeal is to explain to parts of the world that don¡¯t have video games or access to popular media like alien invasion films.¡±


    Just as I was about to address that statement, another notification came in through my intangible screen, causing me to wince.


    [Milestone: You have joined the System. A new world of opportunity awaits you.]


    [Reward: Welcome Chest]


    [Milestone: More eager than most, you have killed a monster before even joining the System!]


    [Reward: Your Welcome Chest Skillbook has been upgraded to Rare]


    After these two notices vanished away, the small round icon that looked like a backpack in the bottom left of my vision pulsed as if it was after my attention. I turned my eyes back to Richard. ¡°This is¡­ rather overwhelming. Even so, I feel like I should be more panicked than I am. Maybe I¡¯ve just hit the limit of what I can understand and my brain has given up.¡±


    He nodded. ¡°This is a lot - I can appreciate that. Part of the System induction includes a Buff¡­ ah, it¡¯s not exactly a sedative, but it has a similar effect. Helps suspend your disbelief.¡±


    I gave him a dull glare. ¡°Does it also stop me from being mad people injecting weird shit into me?¡±


    ¡°Technically, yes.¡± He gave me a sheepish grin. ¡°This isn¡¯t exactly a perfect solution, but to give Earth a chance, it¡¯s the best we could do.¡±


    Jerking my thumb back to the pods, I furrowed my brow. ¡°Who¡¯s ¡®we¡¯? STAR? Does this mean you¡¯re not from Earth? Are you an alien as well?¡±


    Richard sighed. ¡°It¡¯s complicated. STAR is the name of the System that we adhere to, and before you ask, it¡¯s not an acronym. I wouldn¡¯t say I¡¯m an alien, but¡­ let¡¯s say if you get to level five, I¡¯ll give you more information.¡±


    I gave him an exasperated shrug. This was still beyond what I was capable of processing. It felt dream-like, but the aches in my body told me it was real. I didn¡¯t know whether it was the Buff I had been given or not, but I had a gut feeling that he¡¯d be able to point me in the right direction to survive this than if I just bolted at this point. A glance over at the sleeping Bernie had me double down on that decision.


    The truth was, I wanted to survive.


    ¡°So what¡¯s next, Richie?¡± I deflated and looked around for somewhere I could sit. No such luck. ¡°I have to go and punch some little green men with laser guns?¡±


    ¡°Nothing quite so¡­ generic? Yet, sort of even more so.¡± He pulled out a chair from thin air, equally made of blue light and wireframe, and sat on it. I couldn¡¯t tell whether he was oblivious to my need for rest, or perhaps was living up to the name I had given him. ¡°The aliens in question are known as Radochs. Tall fellers that look like cockroaches. Six arms. Insatiable desire to invade and conquer worlds.¡±


    ¡°They sound¡­ gross.¡±


    ¡°Indeed. Now they¡¯ve found Earth, and have started softening it up for the main course. You¡¯ve already fought against something they sent.¡± He gestured to the blood and dust covering my suit.


    ¡°I was going to ask about that. That boar was part of the invasion?¡± I pulled a face as I shuffled over to lean against the nearest closed pod. The appearance and aggression of the animal was surprising, but it didn¡¯t seem particularly¡­ alien.


    Richard nodded. ¡°We are in what is known as phase one. The Radochs are collectors by nature, and as they have gone conquering worlds, they take small slices. Often groups of people, monsters, or places that amuse them. They then send these down to worlds they are preparing to fight, both to thin out the weaker populace, grow some worthwhile adversaries, and expand the power of their System so they can arrive in full force.¡±


    ¡°So¡­¡± I rubbed at my head. ¡°By fighting and growing stronger, I¡¯m still playing into their hands?¡±


    ¡°If you don¡¯t, you¡¯ll die anyway. Given the Milestone you received and the state of your outfit, you seem like you¡¯re a fighter.¡±


    I rolled my eyes. ¡°My key skills are getting in over my head and then running from my problems. I¡¯d be surprised if I don¡¯t bounce from this as soon as there¡¯s an opportunity.¡±


    ¡°Aren¡¯t your legs tired?¡±


    My mouth opened and closed. He didn¡¯t mean it literally, despite the answer being¡­


    I looked over at Bernie, and my thoughts wandered to the diner. Abandoning assholes was nothing, but I¡¯d hate to leave a bad impression on the decent people I had met. They deserved some common decency. I exhaled through my nose before looking back at the Guide.This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    ¡°I¡¯m in for now, then. Just don¡¯t push your luck.¡± I stretched out my ankles, one after another. ¡°So you want me off to the city in the morning to gather some¡­ experience?¡±


    Richard shook his head animatedly. ¡°Not at all. In fact, I would advise never going near the city. High population density areas have both a lack of bunkers, and will have higher level monsters and a lot more of them. You are¡­ lucky to be somewhere more remote.¡±


    I didn¡¯t feel that lucky, all things considered, but the look on his face made me realize it could have been a lot worse. The city would be a war zone, with people who hadn¡¯t been able to get their STAR System being cut down by monsters. People like Bernie. Young families. People who didn¡¯t take the risk or couldn¡¯t even find the pods. The heavy weight in my stomach made me feel ill.


    ¡°It¡­ really is an apocalypse, huh?¡± The pod I was leaning against felt cold now, as if my body heat had dissipated as the reality of our situation blew through me.


    ¡°Unfortunately, yes. I wish we could have done more. It sounds big-headed to say Earth wouldn¡¯t have a chance without the STAR, but in a way, it¡¯s true.¡±


    ¡°Couldn¡¯t you have made us stronger? If this is a video game, make us max level?¡± I shuffled away from the pod, shivering. My legs were feeling better now, although my chest still ached from the boar fight.


    He shook his head. ¡°It¡¯s a matter of compatibility. The rules of the System expect new members to start from the bottom. Even a handful of bonus levels would drop your compatibility rating to single digits. You survivability of the process. There''s only so much we can control.¡±


    I looked over at Bernie. He looked so peaceful, although now I considered it a good idea to bring him down out of the pod before he fell out. Unconscious or not, he had managed to stay in an upright position, but that might not last. I didn¡¯t know how he was going to keep up with me¡ªnot that I had a clue what I was doing¡ªwhen it came to¡­ fighting monsters? It still had an odd taste to it. Unbelievable.


    Richard watched as I shuffled the older man out from the pod and sat him down on the floor gently, up against the one beside the open one. ¡°There¡¯s a lot of information I need to give you. How open are you to learning?¡±


    I shot him a glance. ¡°We have time? I doubt I¡¯ll be able to sleep just yet, but by the morning¡­¡±


    ¡°Actually, I¡¯d like to suggest you go out this evening.¡± He shuffled awkwardly on his chair before leaning forward. ¡°Normally I wouldn¡¯t tell you to go out at night, but getting a few levels before the new day starts will put you ahead of the curve.¡±


    ¡°Assuming I don¡¯t die,¡± I replied. ¡°I almost ate it just from a random boar. Tell me if I¡¯m wrong, but I imagine I¡¯ll have to worry about more than aggressive wildlife.¡±


    ¡°The fact that you did succeed gives me hope that you¡¯ll do fine. You are correct - actually if you open up your Map icon, you¡¯ll be able to see there is a Den nearby. Thankfully, you got in here before it arrived.¡±


    My hand hesitated toward my phone, before realizing that he meant the Map icon in my own twisted vision. Down the bottom left was another round icon that looked like it had a folded map on it. I furrowed my brow and focused, and a new window bloomed into my vision, almost taking up the entirety of my left eye.


    ¡°Fuck¡¯s sake,¡± I murmured, trying to move my head back away from it.


    ¡°You will get used to it, I promise. Right now, you won¡¯t be able to see much, but as you explore, it will populate. See that red dot just off to the side? That¡¯s the Den, which is like the lowest tier of what you might refer to as a dungeon. More of a hovel that contains a Boss.¡±


    With my unobscured right eye, I gave him a dull glare. As much as I had been trying to ignore the vernacular for a while, it was probably time to accept this was going to be something fantasy adjacent. I had been thrust into signing up for a roleplaying game to save the world. Perhaps one of my favorite kind back when I was younger¡­ although that was for escapism. Actually living it was something different.


    ¡°Even better,¡± Richard continued, ignoring my glare. ¡°They are level one. If you pick off enough of them, you should get a couple of levels¡­ but do not, under any circumstance, try to kill the Boss.¡±


    I sighed and shrugged. ¡°Sure, whatever. I¡¯ll be sure to gather a party at the local tavern before venturing forth.¡± I felt a pang in my chest. ¡°Oh, but what about the diner?¡± As Richard gave me a quizzical look, my eye checked the map - but either I couldn¡¯t zoom out enough or there wasn¡¯t enough detail to give any hint as to what happened there.


    ¡°Diner?¡±


    ¡°A mile or two back up the road. There were two others there but they haven¡¯t shown up. Is there another bunker?¡± I flexed my fingers, halfway sure of the answer already.


    ¡°I¡­ can¡¯t say for sure.¡± Richard gave me an apologetic shrug. ¡°Technically, I only exist within this bunker, and can only be seen with those with the STAR System installed. If it¡¯s that far away, I suggest checking out in the morning. Traveling that distance in the night is asking for trouble.¡±


    As much as that sounded like a me thing to do, I begrudgingly accepted that he was probably right. The fact that the world over was probably suffering casualties in the millions overnight was just too overwhelming to really process. Locked away here in this small room, it was easy to think it couldn¡¯t be true. Yet I made myself the promise to check out the diner as soon as I could.


    ¡°So I just have to wander out and hit a few¡­ monsters. Isn¡¯t this something the military can handle?¡± I looked around, feeling like I needed a seat again.


    ¡°To some degree, sure. There will come a time where guns, tanks, and bombs won¡¯t put a dent into the things coming to Earth. With the STAR, you can learn literal skills that will allow you to stand against the looming threats.¡±


    ¡°I can learn fireballs and shit?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, actually.¡± Richard gave me a humorless smile. ¡°You get passive skills by interacting with the world. Hit things with a sword and your Sword Mastery goes up. Passives usually are just small percentage bonuses, but it depends. Active skills can only be learned from Class selection¡ªwhich is every five levels¡ªor from skillbooks.¡±


    I nodded slowly. ¡°I have one of those, I think. The Milestone notification said it was upgraded to rare because I mashed the brains of an animal in.¡±


    ¡°Ah.¡± His intangible form wavered slightly before he smiled. ¡°That¡¯s good. Very good, in fact. A rare skill straight out of the gate is potentially a big boost to your starting progression.¡±


    Using what patience I managed to gather together, I glanced down at the icons on the left again. ¡°I understand the Inventory and Map. What are these other three?¡±


    ¡°Stats, Health Status, and Skills.¡±


    I focused on the Stats and it brought up another screen to replace the map I hadn¡¯t bothered to dismiss. The fact that it knew my government name aside, it seemed as though I was a level 1 human with no classes.


    With a grunt, I closed that window down. ¡°I am almost disappointed that there is nothing telling me I have low charisma. The statistics it tracks are more basic than what I know from games.¡±


    There were Power, Guile, and Knowledge. Beneath those after a small separation were Vitality, Stamina, and Morale. I had a single point in them all, which made me feel rather average.


    ¡°It¡¯s a simple but flexible setup. You stats will influence what Classes you get, the Classes will influence your stats.¡± Richard leaned back in his chair. ¡°They should be relatively easy enough to understand.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s basically melee, ranged, or spellcaster, right? The defensive three are more abstract, but sure, I get it.¡± The fact that I was discussing this so matter-of-fact-ly with an intangible wireframe person while aliens dropped fantasy monsters from orbit to take over Earth was¡­ well, thank fuck I had those sedatives.


    ¡°Roughly,¡± he agreed. ¡°Some Classes can be spellcasters that use Power as their main stat, or there are melee Classes that use Guile¡­ but I wouldn¡¯t worry about that for now. Any bonus you get would be beneficial until you can choose your first Class.¡±


    Which was level five, if my brain was working correctly. Skills screen was empty, so I switched to the Health Status.


    [Injuries]


    [Right Hand - Minor Lacerations (Healing)]


    [Torso - Heavy Bruising]


    [Buff Effects]


    [Soft Landing - Your belief is being suspended. (Expires in 2 hours)]


    My Guide seemed content enough to let me potter around the various screens by myself for a moment, and I had to admit that I was getting used to them. Could still use a good sleep. Maybe a vacation. As my eyes hovered towards my Inventory, I gave Richard a glance.


    ¡°There¡¯s no option where we can just stay in the bunker and ride this out?¡±


    He stared at me blankly, his eyes moving between Bernie and me. ¡°Honestly, if that was an option, I¡¯d recommend it. But - you have no food, water, or facilities to stay here long term. Wouldn¡¯t you rather take your fate into your own hands?¡±


    I wavered slightly as I chewed on this question. He made it sound easy. Like I could just pick up a sword and become a world saving adventurer. Even ignoring how ridiculous that sounded, I had never been a hero to anyone. Maybe if the world was really ending, carving out a safe space for Bernie could at least earn me a little reprieve before¡­ a dragon or some other bullshit tore my head off.


    A shrug was the only answer I gave, but I opened up my Inventory. It was a grid of squares. Mostly empty aside from one box that looked a little like a treasure chest up at the top left. A few tabs ran across the top of the upper row, but they were grayed out. Some manner of sorting facility, which sounded¡­ neat.


    ¡°This is like some intangible pocket dimension I can throw all sorts of shit in, huh?¡± I asked idly, more to try to ground myself than to reach for an answer.


    ¡°Anything that gives you an Inspect option if you focus on it, at least. There¡¯s nuance, but you¡¯ll work it out with trial and error. Nothing living or larger than what you can carry.¡±


    I looked at the Welcome Chest and selected the option to open it.


    [Healing Potion(1)]


    [Torch]


    [Rare Skillbook (Random)]


    [Basic Chair]


    After the notifications of new items came in, I glared over at the Guide. ¡°There was a chair in here all this time, and you didn¡¯t tell me? Isn¡¯t it supposed to give me a weapon as well?¡±


    He returned a sheepish grin. ¡°You already have one, Scarlet. Check your pocket.¡±


    My hand went down to my jacket pocket, where the hammer still sat holstered. I pulled it out and observed the smeared and drying blood around the head. It prompted me to inspect it, which I accepted. What choice did I have, really?


    [Magic Hammer]


    [+1 Vitality]


    [Now everything looks like a magic nail.]


    ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure this wasn¡¯t magical before. How does Vitality work? It''s not directly my health, right - as I¡¯m sure I don¡¯t have a bar telling me how close to death I am?¡±


    He nodded his head, his eyes on my held weapon. ¡°Correct. It¡¯s one case where video game logic doesn¡¯t really transfer. An arrow to the neck will kill you no matter how strong you are, but higher Vitality levels will lower how lethal the attack is. You can get a health percentage readout if you like, but again it¡¯s rather abstract.¡±


    I was sure I was going to learn the hard way by getting the shit beat out of me. Somehow I felt responsible for Bernie, despite only just meeting him. This was a far cry from my city-hopping escapades, and I still longed for a shower and a hotel room.


    Mostly, however, I wanted to go and see for myself. That this wasn¡¯t just a weird dream or whatever. Maybe take some pent out anger on some hapless monsters and feel grounded. Build up a foundation where I could be in control and address my issues as they came up.


    I shook those thoughts out of my head and went into my Inventory. Focusing on the skillbook, I indicated that I wanted to withdraw it¡ªand found the tome now in my hand.


    A leather jacket of deep blue, accented with silver clasps on the edges. It had some weight to it. With a long sigh, I held it up to Richard.


    ¡°Here goes then. Let¡¯s find out how lucky I really am.¡±


    With little need for ceremony, I opened the skillbook up to learn my first skill.

 5 - Hunting in the Dark

    <div>


    The cold air whipped at my face as the bunker door closed, locking me out of safety and into the unknown. I shivered as my eyes adjusted to the darkness, and I opened up my menus once more to triple check the skill I had received.


    [Killing Blow]


    Richard had been surprised by its appearance. Despite him being a manner of¡­ some part of the System I had now been labored with, he hadn¡¯t seen the skill before. A little prodding had gotten him to come clean that the skills that were possible to gain were something partially procedurally generated. While using my hammer would grant a very common and well documented [Hammer Mastery] skill, some abilities were unique or rare.


    I had asked him if that meant it was powerful, as my original cursory glance over the given ability left me with nothing but a sinking feeling in my stomach.


    It depends, he had said.


    My eyes scoured the full description, just in case we had missed some actual detail or decent explanation the other two times.


    [Killing Blow (Rank 1)]


    [When an enemy is on low life, occasionally grants an opportunity finisher that reduces the Morale of any witnesses allied to the victim.]


    When asking Richard what ¡®low life¡¯ and ¡®opportunity finisher¡¯ meant, I had been given nothing but a sheepish grin and a shrug in response. Reading between the lines, it sounded like an ''execute'' style skill, something that added flourish to killing off an opponent. The actual viability remained to be seen.


    Now I was standing out in the cold, with a hammer gripped tightly in my aching hand and an uncomfortable roiling in my stomach.


    ¡°This is fucked,¡± I whispered to myself, shaking some of the disbelief away.


    With my eyes now adjusted to the gloom of the open desert, it was perhaps fortuitous that my target destination was already illuminated off to my right. Something that hadn¡¯t been there when we had arrived at the bunker.


    Some manner of small church, or chapel. Perhaps a mausoleum? It was a few hundred feet off from the building that I was pressed against and half tempted to reenter. Surrounded by a graveyard, headstones and small monuments dotting the area around it in a wide circle. Although it was lit sporadically, there was something off about the light sources. Clearly lanterns or torches by the way they flickered, but it was like they were discolored. A filter of menace had been placed over the scene.


    Before I could even drum up the willpower to take my first steps forward, I saw shapes moving between the foul light and shadows.


    It would probably be a terrible idea to light my torch at this stage. While I couldn¡¯t make out what the skulking humanoid shapes in the graveyard actually were, I didn¡¯t want them to make a beeline for me on approach. Against better judgement, I crept forward toward the nearest set of headstones, trying to keep a low profile.


    There was some amount of madness that I was trying to ignore. This situation was absurd. If it weren¡¯t for how the occasional wind bit at my skin through my shirt, I would have thought this was a dream. Even ignoring the sudden appearance of this graveyard, it only took a glance toward the city to know that this was real. Lights flashed between the buildings, some of which were on fire or smoking. A thick haze enveloped part of what I could see, and I felt my whole body tense at the implications.


    I lowered myself further as my feet hit softer ground. Actual mud and dirt rather than the expected sandy rock of the desert. I wasn¡¯t sure if that was an improvement or benefit quite yet, but the smell that carried along the air the closer I got to the mausoleum had me feeling like I¡¯d eventually give up on keeping my diner meal on the inside.


    Something wet and rotting. A sickness that lingered stagnant and earthy. I ducked down and placed my hand against a stone coffin affording me cover. My breathing was all over the place and I hadn¡¯t realized I had been holding it where possible. I leaned against the cold surface and the warmth wicked away from my torso as the current situation took a moment to sink in. Fuck this.


    I edged myself toward the corner of my cover with short steps. Hammer still gripped tightly, I leaned out to get a better look at my situation. At the moving figures that I was supposed to assault and murder.


    There were three moving shapes relatively close to my position. I narrowed my eyes at the nearest as they walked under the light of of one the lanterns, washing their shadowed robes with foul light. It was only now I saw the long tail emerging out of the back of their dirtied clothing. It waved and slunk around like a thick worm. From beneath the raised hood, a snout protruded.


    [Ratman Plaguetouched (Level 1)]


    I winced and ducked behind cover again, as if the monster would have been able to sense that the System had just given his details over to me. Currently, I wasn¡¯t sure how much I liked the occasional bursts of information being fed straight into my eyes¡­ but knowing that they were also level one gave me some minor comfort.


    That didn¡¯t mean my heart would stop pounding away in my chest, however. I was nearing the edge where I¡¯d need to decide if I was really going to do this. Kill a monster.


    Yeah, I was.


    Committing to the process with a surge of adrenaline to keep me steady, my eyes flicked open my Inventory, and I withdrew the unlit torch into my left hand. Instead of toggling it alight, I drew my hand back and lobbed it down further west from me among some headstones. The inert wooden item struck one of the grave markers on the edge, letting out a satisfying donk. Not especially loud, but hopefully¡­ yes¡ªthere was the sound of footsteps.


    I got into a crouched position as the padded sounds of one of the monsters came my way. A sniffing noise thick with running snot followed along with it, as the ratman muttered something unintelligible to himself. My breath caught in my throat as he stepped past my cover, his back toward me as he looked over at the grave where my torch now lay.


    As he started to draw something from his belt, I leaped up, my jaw clenched as I took two long steps toward him.


    He turned, and I caught a brief glance at him. Baleful yellow eyes that almost glowed. Pus and blood matted into his dark fur. A mouth full of jagged teeth, drool soaking down from the sides of his mouth. Just as he clocked my appearance and drew his knife up in his hand, my hammer connected with his head.


    Thanks to him looking around at me, I struck him right in the temple. Only slightly dulled by his hood, the strike came as a shock and he stumbled away, dazed. Before he could gather his senses, I followed up, bringing the hammer down onto his face again. Teeth fell from his bloodied mouth, his clawed hands coming up to grab at his shattered snout. I struck him in the head again, before the fourth attack split his skull.


    The assailed ratman took two shaking steps away before collapsing like a sack of potatoes, bouncing off one of the gravestones before slumping to the soft soil. I raised the hammer back up to make sure the deed was done, when a notification from the System delayed the swing.Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.


    [Milestone: You have killed your first monster. There are plenty more where they came from.]


    [Reward Received: Title: Adventurer]


    I gasped for air, now aware of the streaks of warm blood across my shirt. There hadn¡¯t been a prompt for Killing Blow, but that didn¡¯t matter right now. I had killed a monster. Before I could revel in my minor victory or start scrambling to make sure nobody else had caught sight of the brief skirmish, the System flashed a rolling list of new skills I had just earned the first rank of.


    [New Passive: Hammer Mastery 1]


    [New Passive: Ambusher 1]


    [New Passive: Flawless 1]


    [New Passive: Skull Breaker 1]


    More important than digging into what these meant was getting somewhere safe. I swore under my breath as I ducked down low and move around the headstones by the corpse. Richard had said something about looting bodies, but I had a bigger problem.


    Two of the other rats had been alerted to the skirmish.


    My eyes widened as they scurried in my direction. Both dressed similarly to the first, although the one a few steps ahead of the other had dark green robes, mottled gray fur sprouting amidst the amount of filth covering him. The second had a leaner figure¡ªpossibly female¡ªand light brown fur. Both had an equal amount of anger in their eyes, their jaws slavering, ready to take a bite out of me.


    It was something of a small miracle that their fervor had drawn them straight toward me, rather than calling for further help. I stood my ground, partially frozen with indecision, but I knew this was the only way. Nowhere to run, for once. I narrowed my eyes, and the System brought up some basic information on my assailants.


    They were level one, the closer rat holding a flail while the other had a curved blade. If there were any further details to be gleaned, I didn¡¯t have time for them now. I slid my right foot back to get ready to engage them. Some past memories of a few self-defense classes rotated around in my mind, but the best lessons had been hard earned. Muscle memory and adrenaline took over. I tightened the grip on my hammer, partly wishing the System had given me something more useful.


    It was barely two heartbeats, and then they were here. A mass of matted fur, terrible body odor, and violent intent. The first swung his flail around, the spiked metal end rusty and neglected. Still, it looked like it would hurt - and I wasn¡¯t about to find out firsthand if I could help it. Using both of his hands to swing the weapon committed his body weight to certain movement. I twisted to his open side, avoiding the attack. My own hammer lashed out and struck him in the forearm.


    With a grunt of pain, a dull crack came from his arm. A minor break, but he rolled away from me to avoid a potential follow-up attack. As nice as it would be to take advantage of the upper hand, I had to worry more about-


    Before I had the chance to re-adjust my footing, the second plague-ridden monster collided with me. I fell, and we hit the ground and rolled. The sharp sting of her blade punctured through the fabric of my suit jacket and cut into my shoulder. Fetid breath clouded my sense as the ratwoman scrabbled against me, attempting to end up on top of the scuffle. I felt sharp pains along my shins as her clawed feet scratched through my slacks.


    Despite my height and weight advantage, she was wily, and eventually won the grapple. Her tail wrapped around my right wrist and held my hammer down in the dirt as she straddled my chest to keep me in place. I felt the cool mud on the back of my head, muddying my hair as I glared at the ratwoman. Seething. While she tried to bring her blade back up to stab at me, I lashed out with my left fist in rage. First strike buried into her robes, the dirty cloth absorbing the blow. My second swing was more desperate, but found a better target.


    I clipped her right on the end of her nose, causing her to wince and hiss out in pain. As one of her clawed hands grabbed at her snout, I grabbed her arm that was wielding the blade. With my life on the line, I pulled at her, my own strength gradually overpowering the monster. Twisting at the held limb, I managed to pry her off and onto the ground. Her tail released me as she landed awkwardly on the mud.


    My freed hammer didn¡¯t have much power to it with the first attack, but the dampened strike was enough to make the monster flinch. I pushed her further away. The first rat had recovered and was swinging his flail at me now that I had usurped their accomplice. I rolled across the ground to avoid it, getting back up to my feet as he struck the earth. Expecting me to stay on the defensive, I surprised him by darting forward. With a reckless slash of my weapon, the metal end connected with his eye, shattering the socket.


    He shook his head and growled, half blinded, in pain, and shocked. It was enough time for me to bring a follow-up into his head undefended. With a damp thud, his body shivered and briefly flashed red.


    A tutorial prompt within my internal HUD told me this was the cue for me to use Killing Blow.


    With a surge of adrenaline, I took a quick step toward the monster and lashed out with a kick. I struck him in the leg, causing his footing to falter. He dropped to both knees, still clutching at his ruined eye. In my hand, I twisted the hammer around and swung upward with the clawed side.


    The attack burst through below his chin and ripped his lower jaw straight off with the movement, spraying warm blood up my front. The rat spasmed, gurgling as he slunk over onto the ground. I flicked the blood from my silver weapon and snarled at my other opponent.


    Now back to her feet, her eyes were wide. Shocked over the excessive kill I had just meted out. An execution I made look so simple, the monster now believed I was way out of their league. With her tail lashing back and forth, she froze briefly while trying to decide whether to flee or run for help.


    I pressed the advantage and didn¡¯t allow her to reach a conclusion. Her knife hand came up, but it was far too late. First strike stunned her, and the flurry of desperate swings that followed turned her into dead pulp within seconds.


    My eyes burned as I turned to see if any other motherfuckers wanted to join the fray. My breathing was ragged. Suit soaked through with sweat, blood, and covered in dirt. After seeing how sickening the creatures were up close, there were possible even worse bodily fluids involved.


    I took a few meandering steps towards cover and lowered myself while I scouted for violence on the way. No¡­ it seemed fine, for now.


    That was¡­ fucking terrifying, actually. I had survived and ended the lives of some of these otherworldly invaders. Didn¡¯t feel too great about it, but I was okay. Pushing forward.


    The System was happy to announce that I had gotten down to 70% health in all that scuffling about. Scratches in my legs ached where I was probably bleeding. My collarbone had a light gash. Not entirely life-threatening, but a quick glance through the Logs said that I had lost a chunk of health from minor poisons the attacks had inflicted. For some reason, the System was keen to give me rewards for this bullshit.


    [Milestone Reached: You have been poisoned. Sick.]


    [Reward Received: Antidote (2)]


    That seemed a lot less helpful if I had died from one of the poisons. For the next fight, I¡¯ll be better prepared, at least. A deeper dive into my Injuries window revealed that I had resisted infection in both of my legs. Fantastic.


    I thought adventures usually started with fighting slime creatures, zombies, or giant rats¡­ oh, well, this was close enough.


    ¡°Fucking rats,¡± I whispered towards the corpses, hoping that the System wouldn¡¯t punish me for the disdain. My experience bar had stopped at 97%, which meant I had to throw myself into further danger with the smelly rodents just to appease my ¡®guide¡¯.


    Instead of sticking my hand straight back into the fire, I gave a cursory glance over the new skills I had apparently learned from beating the shit out of these monsters. A new one joined the others from the first part of the fight.


    [New Passive: Imposing 1]


    Most of them just seemed to increase my damage by a small amount per level, differing by method. With hammers. When surprising opponents. Attacking enemy skulls. Richard had mentioned that these basic skills would be unimpressive at the start, but at levels 5 and 10 they either improved by giving extra bonuses, or by unlocking better skills. That didn¡¯t mean much while they were all at the basic stage, however.


    [Imposing] increased the chance of causing Morale loss on opponents. The whole stat system seemed rather abstract still. Using [Killing Blow] on that one ratman had scared the shit out of the other rodent. Actually committing to the execution felt oddly smooth as well, just like I was locked into a video game animation. The brief surge of adrenaline had given me the strength and wit to know how and where to strike for maximum effect.


    I shook my head. There would be plenty of time to browbeat Richard when I survived the night. Right now I had to get this dangerous situation wrapped up.


    Believing that I wasn¡¯t about to attract the eyes of any more monsters, I shuffled myself over to the ratman whose jaw I had ripped clean off. Kneeling down beside him, I pulled a face.


    They were even more disgusting without the haze of battle distracting me. Literally man-size rats, but diseased. They smelled like an open sewer, full of decay and rank piss. My glare of disgust brought up a menu, asking me if I wanted to loot the corpse.


    Thank fuck I didn¡¯t have to do it the manual way.


    With the heat of combat slowly ebbing away, I opened up the window to see what potential oddities the creature could offer me.

 6 - Rat Trap

    I muttered a few more curse words for the dead rats as I moved from their bodies and back into cover. For the sake of my sanity, I had just hit the ¡®Loot All¡¯ button on them both, so I wasn¡¯t right out in the open.


    The bounty earned via almost dying, was¡­ hardly worth the effort. Five gold coins. A knife. Three vials of¡­ Rat Juice. I pulled a face and brought up the descriptions.


    [Basic Knife]


    [Not even a cut above]


    [Rat Juice (3)]


    [We¡¯ll leave it up to you to decide if this is something they drink or produce.]


    [Weapon Coating. Your attacks have a low chance of spreading Rat Plague on targets. 10 minute duration]


    I wasn¡¯t sure what I¡¯d be able to use the gold coins for, but they were exactly as described. The System clearly used a familiar currency, and had a handy total shown above the top row of my Inventory. No doubt getting that number higher would be a shield for my safety, even if in a more abstract way. I shivered.


    The patches of blood and pile had cooled, and the cold breeze running through the area chilled me. More uncomfortable than that were the notifications the System was desperate for me to acknowledge. I hated this. Leaning up against another cold stone grave marker out of sight, I grit my teeth and opened up the flashing icon.


    [Level Up]


    [You are now Level 2]


    [Received 2 unassigned stat points]


    Me experience bar was now at 2%, which suggested to me that looting bodies also gave a small amount. For all my efforts in caving in the skulls of monsters, I had earned two abstract points to put into one of the six stats. It barely felt worth the effort at this stage, but I continued to act like it mattered for now.


    A quick glance at my Stats again, and it told me in bold text that I would need to be in a bunker or my home to assign these waiting boosts. Things were never simple.


    I exhaled through my nose. Rather than dwell on every small setback, I switched to the next set of notifications, which were more milestones.


    [Milestone Reached: You have leveled up for the first time. Hopefully not the last.]


    [Reward Received: Armor Upgrade Stone (Random)]


    [Milestone Reached: Ahead of the curve. You are one of the first Players to reach level 2.]


    [Reward Received: Bracers of Speed]


    It was hard to know where to begin with the messages. My brow had furrowed at the part where we were being referred to as ¡®players¡¯, as if this was some sort of game. No doubt Richard had some way of spinning it to make sense, but I felt uncomfortable over the insinuation that this clusterfuck was anything close to being jovial in nature. I was not having fun.


    Being ¡®one of the first¡¯ was also vague, but that seemed to be a common recurrence with the System. I ached just trying to imagine how many people had died in this short time, whether they had decided to fight¡­ or had no choice. It was fucked. Most people on this side of the world might have chosen to sleep on the decision, assuming they made it to a bunker. I could see why Richard had pushed me forward. There were rewards for it.


    In this instance, I had earned a piece of equipment, but it could have just as easily been the end of me. Staying in that top percentile might give more advantages the higher level I reached¡­ but did I even want that?


    Autopilot and the sedative-like buff had gotten me this far, but what were my actual thoughts on all this once I sobered up?


    I paused as one of the distant ratmen coughed loudly. Wetly. He spat on the ground and then chittered something to his companion before it was relatively silent again.


    My hands flexed into fists and relaxed again. On edge, I opened up my Equipment window. There were twelve slots in total where I could place pieces of gear to gain their System granted benefits. I assumed that I was able to wear whatever I wanted outside of this scope, but any¡­ magical garments would just act as mundane items in that case. Another instance where I was making a leap based on my middling video game experience - but I could probably test it now.


    My current clothing wasn¡¯t present on this shown ragdoll, which probably meant they weren¡¯t attuned to the System - Richard had said something about that.


    In my Inventory were the Bracers of Speed. I brought up the description before my little experiment went underway.


    [Bracers of Speed]


    [Increase experience gain by 1%]


    [Make haste and waste your enemies]


    Not exactly what I had been expecting, but if the goal was to level, then that would increase my speed. Biting my tongue, I selected to equip them.


    A small progress bar zipped along the lower edge of my vision - and then I was wearing them. I switched the STAR windows away to inspect them in real life. They were little more than tubes of tight fabric, probably more useful for preventing repetitive strain injury than deflecting melee attacks. Yellow and green in alternating stripes, so¡­ ugly as sin.


    Back into my menus, there was now a new list under my Equipment that showed Current Bonus. It listed the single percent from the bracers. I unequipped them with another progress bar appearing before they hopped from the equipment box to my Inventory again. I then withdrew them from my Inventory into my hands. Against my better judgement, I pulled them onto my arms after rolling my sleeves up to my elbows.


    Once done, they seemed to fit just as well as before. I opened up my Equipment menu, and they did not appear on my equipped list, and neither was I receiving the buff from them. Fantastic. Another mystery solved. Science.


    I shook my head as I reversed the process, applying the bonus. Seemed a bit pointless when I could die in the next fight, but completing the task made me briefly content.


    The Armor Upgrade Stone would turn a mundane piece of gear into a magical one by giving it a random stat increase. The description didn¡¯t have the usual forced smarm that some of the System text liked to taunt me with, so it seemed pretty cut and dry.


    I went with my slacks for the sole reason that I was likely to want to remain clothed for my journey, and magical pants would help with that. I sighed again. A progress bar zipped across the bottom of my sight once more, before the black slacks appeared in my Equipment page, slotted into the Legs box.


    [Confident Business Slacks]


    [Reassurance, one leg after the other.]


    [+1 Morale]


    All things considered, I wasn¡¯t sure if that was a good roll. Power or Vitality seemed more important for me to survive the night, but at least now I had a little more faith that I¡¯d live to see the morning. Perhaps I should focus on that instead of making wisecracks to myself.


    My tired eyes went up to another notification.


    [Milestone Reached: You have upgraded a mundane item from <Earth>. Thrifty!]


    [Reward Received: Bandage (1)]


    Aside from the interesting choice to put Earth in brackets as if it was a changeable variable, the appearance of a new healing item had me switching to my Inventory instantly.


    [Bandage]


    [Injured? Then let¡¯s wrap this up]


    [Restores 25% of your HP over 2 minutes]


    Three seconds to activate it, and then it would slowly regenerate my health over time. A quick glance at my status screen, and I decided to use it right away since I was still at 70%. Leaning over, I withdrew the bandage and wrapped it around my left thigh. Once three seconds had passed, it vanished from my hands and a small icon in my vision appeared to let me know the healing was in progress.


    Now that I had quietened the System, I stretched my back out and looked past my cover to the east side of the graveyard. There were two ratmen in low, murmured discussion a little further in - but there was also another on his own, closer to me. Based on context clues, I assumed that they were immune to the Rat Plague, so I would save those vials for a rainy day.


    I adjusted the grip on my hammer. There was a feeling within me that I had¡­ broken the seal. Crossed the line in knowing what I had to do now - and actually doing it. The descriptions and rewards had been mentally tiring and droll, sure, but I had no hesitation in now wanting to go after the rest of the rats. I might level up again. Find something more useful than vials of piss. Eke out an advantage for tomorrow, or the next day.Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    So that I could survive.


    All that it would take would be for me to get lucky in combat another six to nine times. I liked those odds. Historically¡­ not a good call, but I either had a good feeling about this, or the numb trauma had already taken the reins.


    Back in the shadows, I moved between groups of headstones and sporadic plinths. With my health ticking up, I could feel the sharp aches of my cut legs begin to dull. By the time I reached my target, the bandage would have completed. Almost back to full. Confident.


    I could now see another reason why Richard had pushed me to go out at night. In the daytime, I would have been spotted a lot easier trying to assault this place. At present, I could barely hold my own against a pair of enemies, so anything more would be a death sentence. Alongside the attempt to get me ahead of the curve, I couldn¡¯t exactly fault him for his logic. Resented him a little, though.


    But as I reached the ratman, I wanted to prove my Guide correct. I was a survivor. The end of the world wouldn¡¯t change that - I just need to exploit these new avenues. Play the game expected of me. If I just pushed myself a little harder, I¡¯d take advantage of all this new bullshit afforded to me. One step at a time.


    I sprung up on the day-dreaming ratman, hammer flashing down to strike the level 1 monster in the back of his head.


    He screeched in pain, jolting briefly in place from the sound of his skull cracking. As I withdrew my weapon, he flashed red briefly.


    The two ratmen further away had heard the dying cries of their companion and turned their glares toward me. I stepped up behind the wounded monster, the foul torch nearby under-lighting my face as I grabbed his snout. With the adrenaline of [Killing Blow] powering my actions, I snapped his head to the side¡ªsnapping his grinding vertebrae¡ªwhile maintaining eye contact with the alerted pair.


    They wavered in place for a moment, almost lowering their weapons in shock. One with a spear, the other a curved knife. Their hesitation gave me enough time to dip away from the dead ratman and duck back into the shadows. I retreated through the maze of gravestones, and they took the bait. Chittering at each other, they sought vengeance and pursued me.


    Although I couldn¡¯t always rely on Killing Blow to activate, I needed more tools under my belt to make use of the demoralizing side of it. The true power wasn¡¯t in executing the near-dead target, but in sowing doubt and fear in¡­


    I clicked away that thought process at the sound of footfall. The two ratmen had been a lot quicker than I had expected, already almost upon me despite my head-start. I paused behind a tall obelisk and waited, breath held.


    Barely five heartbeats later and the first one rounded the corner of my hiding place, his knife at the ready. His eyes were still glaring further down the graveyard, my location briefly unknown. As he turned to me, I lashed forward with a torch; the end bursting into bright light just in time.


    He stumbled, blinded, his eyes unable to adjust so suddenly. The swing of my hammer caught him in the open mouth, dislocating his jaw but doing little else other than breaking several decaying teeth.


    Sparks rang from the obelisk as the ratwoman behind him darted forward with her spear, the jagged blade on the end catching the granite beside me. I dove away into a sluggish roll, dropping the torch in the process, before rising to my feet. The one with the broken jaw was already coming in for a slash with his blade, some wild dissociation in his eyes as he ignored the pain I had inflicted.


    I grimaced and brought my hammer up to block his attack, and the force turned me away. Undamaged, but flat-footed. He grabbed at me with his other hand, grasping my suit jacket in an attempt to hold me in place. Not just for his own follow-up, but so that I couldn¡¯t move away from the imminent spear from the other monster.


    There wasn¡¯t much time to dig into the specifics, but I could tell they were out of sorts. An icon lingered over their name, but I couldn¡¯t find the space to bring up what it was called. It looked like a shocked face in black and white, so I read between the lines a little. Killing Blow had softened them up, making them a little slower and more awkward. It wasn¡¯t by much, but with adrenaline pumping through my system¡­ it might make the difference.


    I twisted and turned myself as the attack came in, retracting my arm from the sleeve of the jacket. The tip of the spear punctured through the fabric and barely passed over my back. I continued to turn around, wrapping the jacket around the weapon as it slid from my arms.


    My right arm came out first, birthed away from the clothing still clutching the silver hammer. I lashed forward with whatever momentum I had available, catching the monster struggling to pull back their spear in their left hand. With a screech, they let go, stepping back as I stepped in, rotating in a quick circle to swing in a wide arc. I struck them in the side of the head, knocking them out.


    Not the first time I¡¯d done that. I spat, grimacing at the torn and muddied jacket still tied around the long weapon. Stolen, so I had no sentimental connection to it. It had served its purpose.


    The knife-wielder lunged toward me, and I sidestepped. He went to grapple me again, but I was prepared. Hammer hit the extended fingers with a crack, and he dove away in reflex - dropping his blade in the process. It didn¡¯t take him any time at all to right himself, despite his injuries and mental state. For as much as they looked like diseased animals on their last legs, they were agile and scrappy.


    His eyes turned to his fallen blade, the metal reflecting some dull light. I could almost see the gears spinning as he tried to calculate if he had the opportunity to get the weapon back.


    Ironically, that hesitation was the reason he did not.


    I was there before he could come up with the plan B. He blocked the first swing with his forearm, but it numbed the limb. Second strike hit him in the head, undefended. Third was the last that his skull could resist. Dead.


    With my teeth bared, I stumbled over to the Unconscious one. This was exhausting, even if I wasn¡¯t getting injured. Above the name of the ratwomen were two icons now. The newer one was Unconscious, which seemed obvious. The shocked face was called Rattled.


    [Rattled]


    [-10% Action Speed. Weakness to Morale damage. 10 minutes duration.]


    I grunted, for lack of any more useful opinion on the debuff. Then I brought down two quick strikes on the monster to finish this.


    [Hammer Mastery 2]


    Standing back up straight, I stretched out my arms and shoulders. I spent a few moments just catching my breath again, slightly colder than before. My jacket was now absorbing some pooled ratman blood and filth¡­ so I was down a layer of clothing. With a shiver, I frowned and spat on the nearest corpse.


    ¡°Eat shit, motherfuckers.¡±


    Not a mature or restrained response, but fuck them. I had survived. If the rest of humanity could do what I had, then the world was as good as saved. Imagine wanting to collect these diseased and violent ratpeople, just to drop them somewhere you wanted to conquer like a fucked up Pokemon battle.


    I shook my head and looked over at the bodies. Looting time. With a glance out around the rest of the graveyard, it looked as though there had been four groups of three monsters. All of them arranged around this central large mausoleum. My eyes lingered on it for a while. It was imposing, something straight out of the dark ages. No doubt the Boss was hiding down there.


    Not something I should attempt, Richard had warned me. I was keen to avoid death, so getting another level off the last six rats before heading back to the bunker to sleep sounded reasonable to me. No shame in knowing when it was a good time to run. I already told myself that several times a week.


    Rifling through the corpses was a drab affair. My nose had long gone blind to the disgusting juices they were oozing. I just hit the System boxes and moved on as quickly as I could.


    Another eight gold and two knives. Three bandages, and a small square object that was some manner of lockbox. I almost left the vial of Rat Juice behind, but decided to take it. Hoping that the new box might have some way of assisting me tonight, I found it in my Inventory and gave it a look.


    [Plain Lockbox]


    [Rarely found on murdered humanoids, containing their keepsakes. Who is the real monster here?]


    I rolled my eyes, not needing the System to judge my actions. This was all thrust upon me, and I was making the best of it.


    Despite being called a lockbox, I was nonplussed to find that it required no key, as it was already unlocked. A small progress bar zipped along, before the contents were unceremoniously dumped straight into my Inventory - the box itself vanishing from the grid and existence. I made the mental note to do that in real life next time.


    Three gold, a blank scroll, and a potion bottle. The scroll was inert until someone with high enough Knowledge could inscribe a spell on it¡ªwhich sounded like bullshit¡ªso I drew up the description for the amber-colored potion.


    [Minor Potion of Power]


    [Grants +10% Power (min 1). 5 minutes duration.]


    I eyed up the six remaining ratmen after looking at the bottle. Currently, the potion would double my Power. How that translated to my hammer swings and damage was something else entirely, which none of my screens cared to explain. Surely it couldn¡¯t be too rare to find minor potions.


    Of course, I knew the meme about saving consumables for the next game. I''d just have to be under-prepared for Earth 2.


    With a brief sigh, I went off to continue this murder spree. I took the potion out and drank it as I approached the next pack. It tasted like¡­ beef and peppercorn, with a slight alcoholic aftertaste. Warmed me as it went down.


    Perhaps I had been wrong to misjudge the now empty bottle, as the next three monsters died with only minor injuries taken. I didn¡¯t get any opportunities to use Killing Blow, but they had practically lined up in a queue to attack me one-by-one with how disorganized they were. Gained [Skull Breaker 2]. With a bandage erasing all of HP loss, I brought out my phone to see if I could do anything yet.


    The battery had died.


    Serves me right, really. I had planned to ask to charge it at the diner when I had arrived, but the food had completely distracted me. Escapism where I could get it. Now I fucking missed those eggs.


    That would be my first stop tomorrow, but not entirely for that reason.


    My expression soured as I bounced from that gloomy thought to the more present problem. The last three rats were all hanging around together. Every pack so far had a split, but this would mean fighting three at once. Time was ticking on my Power potion, and I wanted to make use of the boost while I could.


    Safer bet would be to call it a night. Killing them would definitely get me to level three, and no doubt - I would be high up on that chart still. I readied up my single health potion. Brought out a knife for my left hand just in case. More options and tools would be useful. My eyes were aching from using the STAR so much. I needed sleep.


    I shook my head off. Too much thinking. My potion would probably fall off mid-combat now. Start strong, keep momentum. Spurned on by this thought, my feet dug into the soft soil and pushed me forward. No opportunity to use stealth with how well-lit their area was. I just had to kill to survive.


    It came as no surprise that they spotted me as I sprinted in to attack. Any momentary shock went away long before I could reach them, the scenery causing me to slow. Just a couple of seconds¡ªa few more rows¡ªand I could¡­


    My heart leaped into my throat as I scanned the weaponry they drew up against me.


    The one nearest the back held a crossbow, the bolt on it glowing with a wicked green energy. Aimed right at me.


    He fired, and I had no time to change course.

 7 - Underground Fireworks

    I cursed existence with every ounce of strenght I could muster.


    Through blurry eyes I stared down at the puddle of blood and partially digested scrambled eggs. Fuck it all.


    My chest burned as my stomach lurched for a possible excavation part three. Arms numb and my left leg kept shaking. The slow ticking of the bandage felt like torture. I was angered. I was in agony. I was... alive.


    Barely. I blinked away the haze in my vision to glance at the Health Report screaming for my attention. In an attempt to distract my stomach from hurling again, I looked through the log.


    There was a warning for where I dropped to 5% HP after taking the bolt straight to the chest. I didn¡¯t need the line about contracting the Rat Plague to know that the projectile was covered with the shit. The pain told enough of a story. There was a second health warning where I went back down to 9% before taking an Antidote potion.


    Through¡­ some manner of miracle, I had killed the rats while hovering in single digit HP. No Killing Blow opportunities to help me, even. Hadn¡¯t looted. Was ignoring the System notifications.


    Once the last had fallen, the relief and adrenaline dump had destroyed me. Although the Rat Plague had been cured, I couldn¡¯t help but immediately throw up. In fact, I hadn¡¯t moved from this hunched over position¡ªhands on my knees¡ªsince I had activated a bandage.


    ¡°Fuuuuuuck,¡± I complained. The two minutes were up, the bandage bringing me up to just over a third of my full health. I still felt like I had been hit by a truck.


    My right hand stuck to my leg slightly as I pulled it away, the blood that had been covering it drying against the fabric. Rather than drop my weapon once the fighting concluded, I had put it in my Inventory instead, almost innately. Rather than bring the weapon out, I grabbed my last bandage and applied it to my arm. It didn¡¯t seem to matter where I applied it for it to take effect, and my left arm was safer. Trying to put it on my leg would just tempt vertigo to pull me over into the soaked earth.


    I glanced around to make sure there were no other rats hiding in the shadows, but saw none. Graveyard all but cleared. I turned my nose up at the flickering torches of foul light, absolutely despising this place. While I healed, I checked whatever the System wanted to tell me. There were a lot of things.


    [Level Up]


    [You are now Level 3]


    [Received 2 unassigned stat points]


    [Milestone Reached: Ahead of the curve. You are one of the first Players to reach level 3]


    [Reward Received: Gloves of Speed]


    [Milestone Reached: You¡¯ve had a near-death experience. That¡¯s a bad habit to pick up.]


    [Reward Received: Health Potion (3)]


    [Milestone Reached: You have killed your first Elite monster. Give yourself a pat on the back]


    [Reward Received: Armor Upgrade Stone (Morale)]


    [Milestone Reached: Surrounded, you won a whole fight while on less than 10% health.]


    [Reward Received: Ability granted - Against All Odds 1]


    I groaned. Took one of the Health Potions to bring me up to 85% HP. The aches in my chest subsided, and any nausea abated. Still ached like shit, though. Shaking my head off, I stretched out my tired muscles. Not the greatest rewards for almost dying, but just being alive was enough for me right now.


    Fuck those rats for wasting my diner breakfast, though.


    I glared at their mangled corpses and brought up my upgrade stone. Used it on¡­ my shirt. Honestly, that was a mistake - I was just looking at options when hitting it accidentally. Given how ruined it was, I didn¡¯t think the system would even let me. Torn in several places, partly hanging off me and partly stuck to my skin with how soaked it was with blood and bile. I looked like someone had gone way too overboard with their zombie halloween costume.


    But now it also gave me an extra Morale point. Hooray.


    Would have been nicer to roll Vitality or Power, but I was too tired to complain. I seriously felt like passing out was a potentially real threat if I didn¡¯t get rest soon. Even taking a couple of steps forward so that I could¡­ loot¡­ was a struggle.


    While I gathered my energy, I went through the other things the System had rewarded me with.


    [Against All Odds 1]


    [+1% Health, Stamina, and Morale when surrounded by 3 or more opponents. (Min 1)]


    Interesting. I didn¡¯t plan to make that sort of situation a common event, but it would be a decent bonus when the chance arises. Leveling it up might be an issue. The longer I survived and more strength I gained, the greater that percentage boost would be - even at the lower skill level.


    There were a few other skills gained during my fight too. I let them be free and updated.


    [Hammer Mastery 3]


    [New Passive: Resilient 1]


    [New Passive: Decimator: Ratfolk 1]


    Resilient made me take slightly less damage when below 20% HP. Decimator increased my damage against Ratfolk. Killing ten of them had apparently been how I unlocked it, and there were probably similar stages to leveling it up. That wasn¡¯t what decimate meant, but I was too tired to argue with the intangible magical bullshit ruining my life.


    ¡°Let¡¯s loot and go,¡± I told my legs. They cooperated, and I moved to the bodies, kneeling into the cool ground to work the System menus.


    [15 Gold]


    [Bandages (2)]


    [Basic Knife (4)]


    [Common Skillbook (Lightbulb)]


    [Shortsword (Veiled)]


    [Rat Juice (2)]


    I almost wanted to puke again. Always with these fucking daggers. Never enough armor. I wasn¡¯t even able to use the sword as it had an enchanment that needed to be Unveiled by someone else with different bullshit skills that I didn¡¯t have. I clenched my jaw and withdrew the skillbook, opening it and learning the skill that definitely didn¡¯t allow me to Unveil.


    [Lightbulb 1]


    [Creates a small orb of light that follows you]


    It was¡­ a useful utility skill, I had to admit. My raging ire petered out. Getting back to the bunker was my priority now, anything else could wait until I had a good sleep. Bernie must be worried, and probably confused. I let out one long sigh as my eyes went to the mausoleum.


    To my aching eyes it looked either like a glimmering treasure chest, or my final resting place. I¡¯d already had my fill of gambling this evening, and should be happy enough my winnings.


    I could¡­ at least pry at the odds, though. Leaving a potential reward out here might draw other people out to claim it. I¡­ wasn¡¯t in the market for getting into territory disputes with ''players'' who were potentially more powerful than me. Not with an easy way to escape. History repeats, or something like that.


    My legs had taken me over to the ominous building while my mind idly flittered about the nonsense. Two lanterns hung either side of an arched opening. At some point there would have been a barred gate, perhaps, if the bent hinges remaining on the stonework were any signal. Even with my burned out nose, the smell from the darkness below was horrid. Like stomach acid mixed with cow manure. I wavered slightly and put my hand on the wall for support as I felt lightheaded.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    I swore, repeatedly, under my breath. It looked like a staircase went below ground, before turning to the right after this long set. Some manner of dried grime covered the steps and walls up to about knee height, as if it had been flooded or something.


    The hammer came back into my hand, and I held it tight. One peek, I told myself. Worst case, I could probably run. Probably.


    Foot on the first step. I descended, slowly. One foot after the other, bracing myself against the right wall so as to not make a sound. I held my breath as the smell got worse, my heartbeat pounding through my dizzy head.


    I stopped at the corner. Composing myself, I tilted slightly, to glance around to what lay further down.


    It was the Boss.


    My eyes widened at the sight of it. A giant maggot, almost the size of my deceased van. It¡¯s bulbous body pulsated and writhed as it defecated constantly. Two gems of green hung on the wall, lighting this putrid and horrifying scene. I didn¡¯t know what it was eating, and didn¡¯t intend to stick around and find out.


    As slowly and quietly as I could, I withdrew and headed straight back up the stairs. It felt like hours before I reached the comparatively clear air of the outside once more, and I gasped. If I hadn¡¯t emptied out my scrambled eggs already, now would have been the time for sure. I hated everything.


    My left hand rose once I let most of the vertigo simmer down, and I used Lightbulb. A dim ball of light appeared in the air just off to my left. When I took a step, it hovered along beside me, like a fairy follower. It didn¡¯t make much a dent to the darkness, however - not when in the presence of all of these lanterns¡­


    I paused and looked at the hanging light source to my side. The foul and odd light within flickered slightly, as if shying away from my glare. I had a mean streak, and was far enough gone to act on impulse. With a dull expression on my face, I turned and counted. Fifteen. That should be enough.


    A sharper me would have had second thoughts at least three times as I shuffled through the graveyard to gather up all of the oil lanterns. But I was driven purely by spite. Putting them into my Inventory took out a huge amount of legwork, and eventually I found myself back at the entrance to the staircase.


    Drunk on exhaustion, I withdrew them one by one. Blew them out and opened them up. Turned the stone steps into an impromptu river. Like it had been flooded. I grinned and stepped carefully down there, the inert bodies of fourteen of the light sources laying either side of the trail of oil.


    I paused once more at the corner. Last lantern came up in my hand, the flame rising brighter as it met the ambient gasses. This is for the eggs, I thought.


    Turning, I flung it into the chamber with the maggot. Then I ran. There was a burst of energy, followed by a high-pitched scream that sounded like an upset child. My legs burned with exhaustion as I powered up the stairs. My Lightbulb circled out of the way as I twisted at the top, throwing my lit Torch down to the bottom.


    The maggot was down there, rounding the corner. It had four eyes as large as my fist, black and gleaming. Beneath several folds of its bulbous body was a small mouth, still open and screaming - exposing dozens of finger-long teeth and odd tentacle protrusions.


    I dove to the side, able to override the fear threatening to keep me rooted in place. The oil ignited, burning through the pustulent gasses filling the place, a flaming blast rocketing out of the doorway.


    Slightly deafened from the explosion, I pushed myself up, arms shaking. Small patches of the graveyard had been set alight and a burning smell weighed heavily around me. The shockwave even manage to wash away some of my brain fog, and I realized that this was a stupid ass plan.


    A thought given credibility as the large form of the maggot pushed itself out from the doorway. It was on fire, several sections raw and bloody, blind in the left eyes where a patch of its face was smouldering. The angered squeal had deepened into something gutteral, venegeful.


    I went to stand, but was finding it difficult to breathe. Smoke and exhaustion all but pinned me to the ground as I fought against gravity. A fight hard won. I wavered in place, my teeth clenched and bared, hand shaking with how tight I was holding the hammer.


    The Plague Maggot had a skull icon to denote it was a Boss. It also had several other icons that were red with flames in them. Probably related to the burning damage. It didn¡¯t seem to care, and retracted slightly, before surging to meet me.


    Two reckless foes, making a last ditch attempt to end this sick game.


    I liked those odds, and the maggot was a terrible gambler.


    With its body damaged and weakened, the stress of the attempted attack was too much. Caught over the top steps, burnt flesh stuck and tore, the maggot literally ripping itself in two as it charged. The attack was delayed, but it didn¡¯t stop the monster from seeing red.


    Unfortunately, I also saw a flash of red.


    One of the looted knives spun in my left hand, the hammer in my right already also replaced by a dagger. I lashed out with my off-hand, piercing through the larger eye of the maggot, bursting it before prying the ruined orb out with a twist. The other dagger came in with a powerful jab, bursting through the back of the empty socket and into the brain of the disgusting creature.


    The plague maggot shuddered, writhing in contempt as I twisted the knife and drew it back out. It stopped screaming at me, the sound fading away as it died.


    I considered throwing up again. My arm almost up to the elbow was covered in gore. It smelled like rotten eggs¡ªsome cruel irony, I was sure¡ªand the monster itself was a nightmare brought to life.


    Perhaps almost as bad were the notifications running in my STAR.


    They could wait until I got to the bunker. I closed my eyes for a few moments to cool off from the fight, and almost fell asleep where I stood. With only my Lightbulb illuminating the area, I was at least glad to have some way of not tripping over everything on the return journey. It would be a cruel twist if I died falling and cracking my head open on a gravestone.


    I looted the Boss. At first, I was planning to ignore whatever I received until I was safe and rested, but I couldn¡¯t help but raise my eyebrows as the items filtered in.


    [78 Gold]


    [Boss Token]


    [Rare Weapon Chest (Random)]


    [Full Restore (3)]


    [Uncommon Skillbook (Cleanse)]


    [Blank Scroll (2)]


    [Common Equipment Chest (3)]


    Not entirely¡­ dogshit. It made such a nice change that I was almost willing to stand around sorting through it all. Almost. The fact that my vision was starting to get wavy meant that I had limited time to mess around before I actually passed out.


    With all the willpower that I had, I started off walking back to the bunker. My path barely illuminated by the Lightbulb spell. The feeling in my legs was a pendulum swinging between burning agony and numbness. While my stomach growled, my lungs throbbed with pain. I was a walking corpse.


    My hand reached out and touched the cold metal of the bunker door. I couldn¡¯t decide whether it had taken ten seconds or three days to get here, my mind forgetting the neverending process of stumbling through the dark as if I had no capacity to hold short term thoughts.


    I stood for a moment, hesitating to turn the lock. Part of me wanted to run. To escape. If I went down there and stayed, I would be expected to do this bullshit over and over again. I¡¯d be responsible for Bernie and¡­ apparently the rest of the world.


    On the other hand, somewhere safe to sleep was all I wanted right now.


    I opened up the door. Closed it behind me and clung to railings as I stumbled carefully down the metal stairs. Second door¡­ I managed to open, growling from the exersion.


    The relief hit me as soon as I staggered into the small chamber. Bernie was there, awake. The holographic form of Richard stood up from his chair in surprise.


    ¡°Scarlet,¡± he said. ¡°Holy shit you look terrible.¡±


    I flipped him off as I pushed the door closed. As the pair moved over to me, I pulled out the chair from my Inventory and placed it down. I sat. Bliss.


    ¡°Are you okay, dear?¡± Bernie looked concerned, unable to decide which part of me to look at.


    ¡°I¡¯ve had rougher nights,¡± I said, closing my eyes in the hopes that it would stop the relieved tears from leaking out. Mission failed.


    ¡°Level three¡­ and you killed a Boss?¡± Richard said, and I couldn¡¯t place what tone he was aiming for. ¡°Jesus Christ, Plagued Ratfolk? You¡¯re lucky to be alive.¡±


    I exhaled through my nose. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m certainly feeling on top of the world about it.¡± Despite the draw of sleep, I opened my eyes back up. ¡°Just so you know, I fully blame you.¡±


    He held his hands up. ¡°I just wanted you to kill a couple of monsters to get used to the idea. Level 2 would have been nice, but Plagued Ratfolk are some of the nastiest creatures you could have gone up against at this stage.¡±


    As much as I wanted to curse him out, I bit my tongue. The cold reality of it was having the Guide on my side would increase my chances of surviving. Hopefully. While staying in the bunker overnight was a less traumatic experience, he was right - I was ready to kill and knew what the stakes were. Even gained a few tools to get a foot up in this whole charade.


    ¡°Need to assign stats. How. Why.¡± Simple instructions, delivered to my Guide bluntly in lieu of expletives.


    ¡°It¡¯ll be on your Stats page, but it only appears in the bunker.¡±


    He was still talking as I looked at them, completely fed up with how the day had gone. I had 4 points I could divide and add to my base 1 across the board. Without caring about any outside input, I went for 2 in Vitality and 2 in Stamina. Anything to prevent me from feeling this shit every day.


    Richard continue to blabber about my achievements, as he was clearly able to read through my notifications and Inventory. I ignored him to look up at Bernie.


    ¡°How are you dealing with all of this?¡±


    ¡°It all seems so¡­ fantastical.¡± He smiled at me apologetically. ¡°The state you¡¯re in gives credibility to all the claims I had trouble believing. Richard says the skillbook I received is very useful, and that I should group up with you.¡±


    I nodded, my eyes closing once more. ¡°Doubt that¡¯s a¡­ good idea. What¡­ skill¡­ did¡­¡±


    My sentence trailed off as I passed out.

 8 - Eyes on the Data

    I snapped awake with a jolt, briefly disorientated. Fear and the urge to run pulsed through me before I remembered. Trapped in a bunker. Dread settled in instead, and I palmed at my eyes, groaning.


    ¡°Welcome back to the land of the living.¡±


    With the harshest scowl I could manage, I set my eyes free to glare at the blue figure of Richard standing ready to talk my ears off. Before I had the chance to snap at him, I noticed my clothes.


    ¡°You¡­ replaced my shirt and slacks?¡± Or Bernie had, maybe. My previously shredded and soaked white shirt and black slacks were as good as new. A glance at my arms told me I hadn¡¯t been washed, but¡­


    ¡°Magical gear repairs itself overnight, if not fully destroyed.¡± The Guide crossed his arms. ¡°I¡¯m not sure I appreciate what you were insinuating, though.¡±


    I opened my mouth to respond, but any desire to get into an argument simmered away. ¡°It¡¯s very confusing learning this bullshit after the fact. I barely trust normal people, so this is all¡­ overwhelming.¡±


    ¡°Your welcoming buff has expired now, so I expected you to be a little grouchy at the minimum. Plus, sleeping in that chair looked uncomfortable.¡±


    Over in the corner, Bernie was still asleep. He had managed to get some blankets or folded clothes together to make a bed, for the loosest definition of that word. My head was still aching, as if I had a hangover. ¡°I¡¯ve slept worse places.¡± I unbuttoned the cuffs of my shirt once more and rolled them up to my elbows.


    ¡°Nice bracers.¡±


    ¡°Fuck you.¡± I shot him a glare. ¡°You had me thrown to the wolves so that I could get a couple extra digits of experience? Plus, they¡¯re gaudy as shit.¡±


    He gave me an apologetic grin, surprised at how I snapped at him.


    I closed my eyes and rubbed them again. Fine. It was okay, even if possibly not worth almost dying over. Now that I had spent some time sleeping, I didn¡¯t think I was likely to get the milestone for level four or five. For those in the world where it had been early morning once the apocalypse hit, they would have had the whole day to level up¡­ and hopefully hadn''t died.


    ¡°You know, it¡¯s very impressive that you not only took on an Elite, but a Boss as well.¡±


    Images of the carnage flashed through my mind, causing me to wince. ¡°Yeah¡­ I think I mostly got lucky and cheesed it.¡±


    ¡°Thinking outside the box will keep you alive. You don¡¯t want to know the number of people who have died trying to take on a Boss.¡±


    I pulled a face. ¡°You have those sorts of statistics?¡±


    Richard hesitated before answering. ¡°To some degree. I trust you understand the stakes, but the only numbers you need to concern yourself with are your own Stats and your Level.¡±


    Despite resenting most everything this morning, he had a point. This was a world-ending event. People would die. Lots of people. Having this abstract fighting chance just made it seem more cruel than if we were just snuffed out with no say in the matter.


    Damn, I could really do with some breakfast. My brain switched to the diner, before back to the conversation at hand.


    ¡°You can read like¡­ my logs, right? So you know what I killed, the loot I took, how injured I got¡­?¡±


    He nodded. ¡°For what it¡¯s worth, I¡¯m sorry. I shouldn¡¯t have pushed you so hard when there¡¯s no real risk on my end.¡±


    I rolled my tongue around my mouth. All my teeth were present, which was nice. Usually a good idea to check after a fight. ¡°Do you know how many people in my life have been utterly incapable of apologizing? I appreciate it... but I¡¯ll be sore about this whole thing for a while.¡±


    ¡°Understandable.¡± He gestured to the sleeping man. ¡°Bernie was really worried about you, and I didn¡¯t even tell him the gory details. I won¡¯t push you today, other than heavily advising that you do not go to the city.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s fucked?¡±


    ¡°The scaling of the monsters is¡­ practically a death sentence, unless you know what exact routes to travel through.¡± Richard brought out his chair and sat down opposite me. ¡°That leads on to what skill Bernie received.¡±


    I frowned. ¡°Why did you advise him to group up with me? I won¡¯t be able to keep him safe.¡± Despite the soft spot I had for the pleasant old man, he would be a liability in combat¡­ and likewise, I would be, for his survival.


    ¡°Thankfully, that won¡¯t be necessary¡­ currently.¡± My Guide tilted back, looking up at the ceiling in thought. ¡°The good news is he can use his skill within the bunker to benefit you both. The bad news is that he will get next to no experience being in your Party, and the bunker isn¡¯t exactly furnished for long-term survival."


    With a sigh, I massaged my temples. ¡°But you¡¯re saying if we make it more hospitable, it would be to our benefit? What skill did he get?¡±


    Rather than tell me, he prompted a message to appear in my STAR.


    [Scout 1]


    [Reveals points of interest within an area on the map. 1hr cooldown.]


    ¡°The radius is pretty poor at this level,¡± Richard continued. ¡°He used it twice before going to bed himself, but when you¡¯re partied, he will be able to share his map data with you.¡±


    ¡°So¡­ we¡¯ll be able to see monster packs and Boss locations further afield?¡±


    He nodded.


    ¡°Neat. Wake him up and drop one in the direction of the diner. I need to go there now.¡± I moved my legs, and they figuratively cracked in half, my muscles stiff as a board.


    ¡°You¡¯re going nowhere.¡± He held up a hand. ¡°You have unfinished business to deal with.¡±


    I glared at him and tried to get more comfortable. With stats to assign, milestone rewards to receive, and new gear to sort through¡­ I grumbled further at the process. I needed to see if the pair at the diner had survived, and if there was any food that I could steal. Acquire.


    ¡°Explain Stats distribution to me then, before I stick all four in Vitality.¡± I brought up the necessary window and threatened the action.


    Richard shuffled in his chair before leaning forward. ¡°It wouldn¡¯t be a terrible choice, but I¡¯ll say this¡­ the System often trends toward complimentary items. It likes to try to be cohesive, and if you go with the flow, you can access some of the better Class choices. Ultimately, the journey is your own path to tread, and whatever you decide, you-¡±


    ¡°Alright, alright, I stopped listening after ¡®cohesive¡¯.¡± In some ways, my fate was decided by the first skill that I found, but¡­ maybe even that was generated based on other factors related to my life. I flexed my hands out as I tried to fight the urge to split them between Power and Vitality.


    I murmured several curse words, and hit the buttons, accepting my fate. Three in Morale and one in Vitality.


    ¡°Interesting,¡± Richard said.


    Instead of cursing at him, I moved on. It would be a good idea to check my totals once I had dealt with any equipment as well¡­ plus, it allowed me to pretend I hadn¡¯t done something incorrect. I knew what my Guide would say. Choosing Morale at the start was uncommon. I might struggle with combat to level up. He had baited me with the ¡®better Classes¡¯ line, and I had seen how Morale affected the Ratfolk. If I could increase the severity or likelihood of that¡­


    ¡°I¡¯m not saying that because it¡¯s a bad choice.¡± He sat back up and rubbed his hands together. ¡°I know that you think you came close to death once, but it was actually twice - and do you know how you survived?¡±


    I gave him a tired shrug and gestured for him to continue.


    ¡°The extra Vitality from your hammer helped you resist most of the poisons and diseases. If not for that, the damage from the bolt would have killed you. The second time was when you saw the Boss. It has an aura of fear that your increased Morale negated, allowing you to dive away from it instead of being frozen in place.¡±


    His words sunk into my thick skull. For me, it wasn¡¯t really that much different from just¡­ living the way I usually had. Perhaps one of the logs displayed all these granular interactions, but I wasn¡¯t about to sit and read through them. Certainly not in the middle of getting my head caved in.


    I did, however, appreciate the fact the System gave me the items to succeed. Unintentionally, most likely, but it had worked in my favor. Trusting that Morale was the route intended for me, I¡¯d tilted the scales in that direction. Worst-case scenario, I¡¯d die with a chip on my shoulder.


    ¡°Rat bastards didn¡¯t like it when I used Killing Blow.¡±


    ¡°How do you feel about it?¡±


    I frowned at him again, partially because he kept distracting me from opening up my notifications. ¡°It¡¯s a weird feeling. I¡­ remember switching to different weapons without really doing the process when I killed the Boss.¡±


    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.


    ¡°Hmm.¡± He rubbed at his chin, his own brow also furrowed. ¡°It¡¯s essentially a cinematic execution that causes fear, so perhaps the rules on how you can perform the kill are relatively loose.¡±


    ¡°For someone who is a Guide for this System, you sure sound like you¡¯re still working shit out.¡± I gave him a glum smile and ignored his explanation as I opened up the messages the System had left me. There were¡­ quite a few of them.


    [Milestone Reached: You have killed your first Boss]


    [Reward Received: Boss Chest]


    [Milestone Reached: You killed a Boss solo]


    [Reward Received: Weapon Upgrade Stone]


    [Milestone Reached: Ahead of the curve. One of the first to kill a Boss]


    [Reward Received: Ring of Speed]


    [Milestone Reached: You have found your first Rare item. It better be useful!]


    [Reward Received: Magic Re-roll Stone]


    [Milestone Reached: So it begins. You have cleansed your first area]


    [Reward Received: Title: Adventurer]


    I squeezed my eyes shut. All these text messages were tiring me out already. Perhaps I hadn¡¯t slept that long after all. It was hard to tell in the underground bunker. Some miserable hell where my exhausted body had only managed three hours of rest sounded¡­ untenable.


    Richard was clearly interested after getting the information of what I¡¯d received himself. Eager to talk to me about everything. I hadn¡¯t even gotten to the new skills that had leveled after the Boss fight, including the one I had looted.


    ¡°Cleansed?¡± I asked, trying to get ahead of the more boring questions brimming in his mind.


    ¡°You destroyed the influence of the invaders. Although I don¡¯t advise you to return to that area, if you did, then you¡¯d find that it has already started returning to¡­ whatever it was before.¡± He nodded. ¡°One step forward.¡±


    That felt¡­ slightly rewarding. It had taken every shred of my strength and part of me considered it might have been a bad dream. The things I had done¡­


    ¡°Lightbulb is nice,¡± I said, if only to distract myself from darker thoughts.


    ¡°You picked up Cleanse as well, that¡¯s helpful... as well as partially confusing, as we were talking about cleansing the world. Three second cast, removes a single non-magical debuff from yourself or an ally.¡±


    I nodded. Sounded nice. Having it before the fight would have been even better. Before digging into the equipment I had received, I removed the skillbook and learned it. While checking it was added to my active abilities list, I made a note of the new passive I had also received since killing the Boss.


    [Hammer Mastery 3]


    [New Passive: Underdog 1]


    [New Passive: Boss Killer 1]


    [New Passive: Pyromaniac 1]


    [Killing Blow 2]


    The three new skills seemed just as lackluster all the others. Single percent bonus damage against opponents much larger than me, bosses, and with dealing fire damage, respectfully. Richard was rambling something about the level five additions making them worthwhile. I wasn¡¯t about to focus on any of them, so I¡¯d just let the upgrades happen naturally.


    [Killing Blow 2] was my sole interest. Increased chance of activating, and higher morale loss to enemy witnesses. While most skills were plain and granular, this one remained vague - only hinting at effectiveness. Still, the numbers went up.


    ¡°I have a lot of chests with common items in. Any suggestions?¡± I closed my windows to give my eyes a rest and raised an eyebrow to my Guide.


    He glanced off at the wall for a few moments before returning eye-contact. ¡°I¡¯d suggest we wake Bernie and have him start revealing the route to the diner, if that is your intention.¡±


    It felt like a shame to wake the sleeping man up. As much as we were all trying to make do with this apocalypse bullshit, I felt the elderly were probably getting some of the shortest end of the sticks. I thanked whoever would listen that he had received a skill usable from the bunker.


    Even if it made it harder for me to eventually dip and escape this place.


    Richard went over to try to wake our scout after I gave him the nod to do so. Maybe I¡¯d find something to ground me in the equipment I had earned with my blood and sweat. I went through my Inventory and opened up the Common Equipment Chests.


    [Merryweather Hat]


    [White Undershirt]


    [Gym Shorts]


    I pulled a face. They weren¡¯t even magically enchanted. No defensive stats either. The hat appeared in my hands, and I returned it immediately. While I had learned to be thrifty with clothing in my many years drifting, I had hoped for more than just a dumpster dive into random garments that did nothing but clash with my suit.


    ¡°Morning, dear.¡±


    ¡°Morning, Bernie. You sleep okay?¡± I shifted from the disappointing loot to watch him get up. ¡°Better than I did, I hope.¡±


    ¡°Almost a home away from home,¡± he replied, smiling, but clearly still tired.


    He started up a conversation with the Guide about where to scout first, while I returned my attention to my items. Boss Chest was next, and I opened it up.


    [Breakfast Feast (5)]


    [Health Potion (3)]


    [150 Gold]


    [Puzzle Piece #35]


    [Solar Shards (3)]


    I exhaled. Any frustration over more things to learn evaporated as I checked the feasts out. Despite myself, a wide grin emerged across my face. ¡°Are you hungry, Bern?¡±


    Over the next five minutes, I slowly forgave the ratmen and their gross maggot leader. I sat on the floor opposite Bernie, both of us with plates of warm food in our laps. Omelet, bacon, sausage, and toast. Not quite as good as the diner food, but with how exhausted and exerted I had been¡­ this was pure bliss.


    ¡°Point me in the direction of all Bosses if this is the reward,¡± I said with a half-full mouth. ¡°It was worth it.¡±


    Richard sat with his arms crossed, a bemused look on his face. ¡°You might change your tune once you¡¯re in the thick of it. Handy to know you¡¯re food-motivated, however.¡±


    I waved the fork toward him. ¡°Just give me the bad news already. How far behind the curve am I?¡±


    He gave me a shrug before deflating in his seat. ¡°I don¡¯t have that sort of data to give you, unfortunately. Even getting three pieces of Speed gear is a big boost, however. Have you equipped them yet?¡±


    My eyes went back to the screens. I had the ugly bracers on, but I had clearly got distracted with the amount of new items and skills at the time to bother putting the gloves on. I swiped across the ring before then the gloves.


    They weren¡¯t as disturbing as the bracers. Black and plain in design, aside from a few textured pads on the fingers and pads. Probably used for some manner of sport. ¡°Three percent extra experience is alright, I suppose.¡±


    ¡°Set bonus,¡± Richard replied bluntly. ¡°Check it.¡±


    I looked down the totals, showing I also had +2 Morale from gear, alongside the additional experience rate. There was a separate section now saying I had a set bonus. +50% Luck. My dull glare at the text had a more detailed description pop up, telling me that Luck increased the chance of getting ''useful'' loot. Further pieces of Speed gear would add another 25% per slot equipped.


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure I¡¯d call that a ¡®big boost¡¯, but perhaps now I¡¯ll get armor with actual stats.¡± I brushed my shirt down. ¡°Was it a bad decision to make my normal clothes magical? Maybe I should have gone with something more practical¡­ would my underwear count as two separate items?¡±


    Richard pulled a face and raised an eyebrow. ¡°Uh, depends. Maybe they¡¯d be a singular upgrade if they were¡­ a matching set?¡±


    ¡°Balls. No chance of that.¡± I didn¡¯t have that sort of organization, nor an extensive wardrobe. There wasn¡¯t even a slot for undergarments on my sheet, so it was more of a moot point. ¡°That said, I think footwear would be a good choice. If I have to trek around the new wastelands, then self-repairing boots or something would be worth their weight in gold.¡±


    Bernie was barely halfway through his breakfast as I finished up. At first I thought it was just because I was wolfing it down and he was more polite, but judging by how his eyes were moving, it was likely he was just getting distracted with his STAR menus. I wondered how overwhelming this was for him.


    ¡°How you holding up, Bern? Glad that you don¡¯t have all these miscellaneous items and crap to identify and sift through?¡±


    He raised an eyebrow, pausing a moment before giving me a smile. ¡°More thankful that I don¡¯t have to kill anything and put myself in danger. Some bad news on that front, however.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± I absorbed the empty plate and cutlery into my Inventory. Surely he wouldn¡¯t have eyes on the diner yet.


    ¡°There¡¯s a monster patrol not too far out from the bunker in the direction of the diner. Goblin Hunters, level one.¡± The way he annunciated the words sounded like he was just reading things off without really understanding the information. ¡°That¡¯s all that it tells me for now.¡±


    I shot Richard a dull glare. If my Guide hadn¡¯t set me off in the night against the ratmen, then these goblins were probably how I¡¯d end up cutting my teeth. A smoother introduction to how messed up the world was¡­ instead of the near-death experience.


    Still, I was living. Now that I was full of breakfast, I felt I could take on anything - and hopefully not throw it up again. Three more meals stored away sounded good, but food would soon fast run out. My brain worked through some old memories of a survival course I once took in my teens. Or, at least the lessons I snuck into before they realized the payment bounced and banned me.


    Shelter was sorted. Food and water was next. If I could find some furniture along the way, we¡¯d be set¡­ but I wasn¡¯t sure how to go about defenses. How long was I going to stick around? What could I really do to help save the world?


    I worked my jaw as I chewed on these thoughts. Cabin fever already, but I¡¯d always had itchy feet. My idle stare switched to the Guide, who was probably trying to read my mind. I was sure he wasn¡¯t able to.


    ¡°It¡¯s better you don¡¯t worry too much about the items you have found,¡± he said. ¡°You¡¯ll burn yourself out. Open up your weapon chest and get ready to head out. Bernie¡¯s scouting will reset just in time to reveal the diner location by the time you get there.¡±


    With a sigh, I pushed myself up to my feet and stretched out. ¡°I¡¯m going to be so pissed if I come across other survivors and they try to kill me for my items instead of helping save the world.¡±


    Bernie looked up at me, concern across his brow. ¡°Did nobody ever teach you about foreshadowing, dear?"


    ¡°I¡¯ve seen enough apocalypse movies.¡± I flexed out my fingers in the gloves. ¡°Thankfully, I¡¯m shrewd and paranoid enough to keep myself safe.¡±


    The pair just continued to look at me, but remained silent. I was reminded of how I didn¡¯t really open up to people for a reason. Moving on swiftly, I went to the weapon chest and opened it up.


    [Threadcutter]


    [+2 Power, +2 Stamina, +20% Two-Handed Axe Mastery]


    [Sever the bindings of fate, and sometimes necks]


    A two-handed axe. I brought it out into my hands, and it was surprisingly light. Rather than a bright metal, it looked more like it was crafted from meteorite or something volcanic. Jagged around the edges, crimson and ruddy browns. I rotated the handle and resisted the urge to give it a few test swings.


    ¡°A rare weapon at this stage is pretty big,¡± Richard offered. ¡°If you¡¯re the gambling type, you could use the two stones you have. Magic Re-roll reassigns the stat distribution, and the upgrade increases all base stats.¡±


    ¡°You had me at gambling.¡± Power and Stamina weren¡¯t bad stats to have. Killing things and keeping my energy up would mean I could adventure for longer, but¡­ I had a gut feeling that I had to push the System in a certain direction. If I hit level five today, then I¡¯d be able to pick my first Class - and the options were based on my stats and skills.


    Biting my tongue to focus my luck, I used the Magic Re-roll Stone. A simple process that involved selecting the shiny pebble in my Inventory and then switching it to the axe in the provided drop-down list of applicable weapons.


    [Threadcutter]


    [+1 Vitality, +3 Morale, +20% Two-Handed Axe Mastery]


    My Guide smiled. ¡°Looks like you¡¯re a natural. Now upgrade it.¡± Similar process.


    [+1 Threadcutter]


    [+2 Vitality, +4 Morale, +25% Two-Handed Axe Mastery]


    I whistled. Not only was that a huge increase in stats, but I¡¯d gain the mastery skill a lot quicker, increasing my damage sooner. Now that I had two magical weapons, I noted that I had three slots for weaponry underneath my gear - allowing me to gain their stats when not directly wielding them. Threadcutter in one and my hammer in the other, I went to check my stat totals.


    [Power: 1]


    [Guile: 1]


    [Knowledge: 1]


    [Vitality: 6]


    [Stamina: 3]


    [Morale: 7]


    [Against all Odds] would give me an increase of 1 to all my stats when I was surrounded as well. While I didn¡¯t have any baseline increase to my attacking skills, I felt really good about having high Morale.


    I wondered how many times I could make that joke before it got tiring.


    Hefting the large axe to rest across my shoulder, I grinned at the two in front of me. Time to go kill goblins.


    I might be getting the hang of this.

 9 - Out and About

    Stepping back out of the bunker knocked all the wind from my sails.


    I had expected to see some shapes now occupying the desert. If areas like the graveyard were appearing throughout the world, then seeing the distant shapes of small buildings or groups of monsters sounded reasonable.


    What I hadn¡¯t expected was the density of it all. It was almost like a festival was gathered across the miles that I could see. Over to the right, far past where the ratmen had been, I could see a tall castle. Between the cluttered horizon and my location, there were tents, moving groups of shadowed figures, and odd terrain pieces not belonging to the desert. There was still a decent amount of space between everything - I knew this. The distance just made it looked packed.


    Gathering my senses, I shook my head off and walked to the left. The morning sun was warm, allowing for another contrast as I paced past the front of the bunker and saw the city again for the first time. A sharp chill ran through me.


    It looked as though it had been sitting for years in disrepair. Several of the larger skyscrapers and office blocks were totally burned out. There were a dozen muted sounds coming from the city, but I couldn¡¯t pick anything specific out. Combined with the populated land around me, there was just a dull hum of varying noises merging together. Was anyone still alive?


    A sobering thought. Part of me felt my actions out here were for nothing. The city needed saving. But the other part of me wanted to be as far away as possible from there. Richard had said something about the monster spawns being based on population density. The ocean would be mostly untouched, whereas cities would have the strongest Bosses and depth of corruption.


    As removed from society as I often was¡­ I didn¡¯t want this fate for anyone. A nice thought to circle me back around to the current mission: travel to the diner and see if the two women there had perished. Solely because that waitress had extended a helping hand, despite not knowing who or what I was.


    Which was a rather dramatic sentence, given that I was mostly just a loser with an axe to grind. Somewhat literally, it now seemed.


    I took another look at the surroundings before getting an update from the Map. Pinned the direction to the diner as sourly as I was able, and added something else to my survival list.


    Some way of traveling.


    There was no chance Richard could convince me to walk my way through miles of dangerous monster groups and dry sand. My wagon was dead, and venturing to the city to find a working car that I could hot-wire was¡­ well, asking for more problems. Maybe Bernie would pick up something useful as he revealed the more of the area around us.


    I set off toward the diner, getting myself ready to rendezvous with the goblin group patrolling ahead of the bunker. However, a new addition to the desert blocked the path so that I couldn¡¯t directly see where they would be - a singular ruined townhouse.


    Ominous. I looked up to the Chat function. Although Bernie and I had exchanged the unique ID¡¯s we needed to be able to speak long distance, we were now in a party together, so we could do so anyway. A holographic keyboard appeared at the bottom of my vision and I typed mostly by thought alone.


    //Scarlet: Any intel on this house? Looks suspicious.


    I waited several seconds as I slowly approached it. Bless him, but Bernie wasn¡¯t the fastest with typing even when the System was lending a hand. Our Guide expressed some apologies about not being able to message us himself, so for now I just had to wait.


    //Bernie: Richard says it might contain monsters, or might be something else¡­


    //Bernie: Map just reports it as ¡®Abandoned Home¡¯¡­


    I grunted and returned my glare toward the structure. It looked as burned out and dejected as some of the buildings I could see in the city, just smaller. Something you might see in the suburbs - the victim of arson or an accident in the kitchen.


    Unfortunately, it could just be full of monsters. Richard had mentioned that there would be oddities amongst the groups of creatures the roaches had collected. Interesting traps, treasures that would be difficult to attain, or even dungeons. I preferred it when it was just things to kill. A simple routine I was planning on getting used to¡­ or at least dissociating from enough to get by day to day.


    I used Lightbulb, but the small sprite was barely a dim glow out in the sunlight. Since there was no ongoing cost to keeping it out, it seemed prudent to pre-cast it before potentially entering a dark space. Threadcutter weighed in my hands. I had put in far too much effort to fall to something basic at this point. All the blood, sweat, and tears to get a step up over most people in this time zone would go to waste if I stepped on a trap and impaled myself.


    Of course, avoiding it was also an option. By the time that I reached it, I had convinced myself to just circle it at first to get a better look. The sides of the building had little flower gardens that had burned to ash. I could see furniture inside that was dark, reduced to charcoal in places. Around the left side of the building, half the wall had collapsed, allowing me to see a staircase that was flimsy at best, leading to what remained of the top floor.


    Should I avoid it?


    Part of me said yes, but a much more vocal side of me wanted to scrape away at any advantage I could get. I was getting closer to 300 gold now, and that had to be useful for something. Buying potions, or better gear.


    //Scarlet: Cautiously investigating.


    I wasn''t sure why I told them. Perhaps just in case they wanted to talk me out of it. Then again, for Bernie, I was his lifeline to the outside world. Without me¡­ well, I didn¡¯t want to think about that. A quick look around this shell of a house and then back to murdering.


    With a humorless smile, I stepped through a gap in the outer walls and into what was probably the living room. The couches had been reduced to a pile of melted faux leather; the scar left on the floorboards showing the shape of where the furniture used to be was the only clue to how this scene used to look. A folded over mess of plastic and electric components from the tv, and¡­


    I pulled a face and crouched down near where the seats had been. In amongst the ash were charred bones. Not quite enough to make a human. Not that I had much of a clue, but aside from legs and ribs, there were definitely no skulls. That could only mean that the heads were¡­


    My body tensed as a creak came from the upper floor. With my breath held, my eyes slowly raised to the top of the staircase. The open doorway above was silent. It could have been the breeze, or part of the foundations complaining as the building deteriorated.


    A second creak put those thoughts to bed.


    Aches spread through my hands as I gripped the handle of the axe tighter. From the charred doorway above, a clawed hand emerged and gripped onto the frame. I continued to hold my breath. As the top of the staircase groaned with the weight of the other unseen hand, a reptilian head pushed through into the light.


    If it wasn¡¯t for the System giving me a heads up, I would have shit myself, thinking it was a dragon.


    The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    [Pyromander (Level 3 Elite)]


    It reminded me of a Komodo dragon, but mixed with a fire Pokemon. Deep red shiny scales shimmering in the morning light. As he extended his face out onto the open landing, his head tilted - a bright amber eye looking down at me.


    I wasn¡¯t sure I fancied my chances of beating an elite at my own level. Not without warming up first.


    A poor choice of words, as the monster turned his head to face me and opened up his wide maw.


    Almost dropping my weapon in the process, I rolled across the hard floor as a spout of fire erupted from the creature. The smell of freshly charred wood washed over me. I didn¡¯t stop, and powered up forward, rushing into the room opposite.


    A kitchen. Equally as scarred by flames as the rest of the house, but with one difference. The wall was complete and there was no side entrance to allow me a swift exit. It was a dead end. My eyes scoured the burned out furnishings for anything helpful as the staircase behind me squealed under the weight of the pyromander.


    I squashed any rising panic with a deep breath. Surely I was smarter than a monster. It would be a gamble, but I¡¯d been in tighter squeezes than this and squirreled my way out. Maybe with slightly lower stakes, but¡­


    The clawed hands of the pyromander vibrated through the floor as they pounded their way across the living room toward me. I clicked my tongue and rolled the dice.


    A wave of flame burst through the open door, licking at the cupboards and shuttered window. Heated air billowed around me, almost burning my arms. I winced through three straight seconds of this biological flamethrower before the flames then receded.


    The merryweather hat at the end of my axe shaft, held in front of the doorway, had been reduced to cinders. I withdrew the metal end of my weapon that was now glowing from the intense heat and stepped into the opening. The monster looked practically grumpy at being deceived, but I didn¡¯t leave him time to complain.


    I slashed out with the Threadcutter in a wide arc, the bladed end catching the reptile across the face. He hissed and darted forward with one of his clawed hands in retaliation. With the head of the axe, I parried it away, circling so that I could get into the room more - but opening me up to the second swipe.


    ¡°Fuck!¡± I stumbled back as the knife-like claws slashed through my lower left leg. Briefly, my mobility was shot. Instead of capitalizing on this, however, the monster remained in place.


    He opened his mouth wide again.


    I had gotten lucky with assuming there was some refractory period to using the flames. It had allowed me access to the more open room, with a chance to run for it - if my leg hadn¡¯t just been injured. I entirely blamed Richard for this.


    With a growl, I spun around on my good foot and launched my axe. An awkward throw that would barely earn me a second unless it did decent damage. Surprise ran across my face - it was a partial success.


    Flames burst out, lighting up my lower legs before petering out. The axe head had wedged in the open mouth of the monster, the edges of each side cutting partly into their scaled cheeks. It had prevented some of the flame, aside from a plume angled beneath the weapon.


    Even with the agony of the burns wracking at my legs, I took the initiative. My right foot came down on the smooth curve of the inside of the right blade. I held the handle and weighed into it. The monster choked and screeched, trying to back away. I was too driven by anger to allow it. As the creature squirmed, I put my all into it.


    With a wet tearing noise, the axe dug further into his scaled flesh. Bones split and the lower jaw separated from the monster, shredding muscle and cracking cartilage as I used the weapon like a lever.


    The pyromander spluttered and slunk away, trying to grab at his face with his clawed hands. Threadcutter spun in my hands before I lashed around, striking the panicked monster at the top of his head. Skull cracked, and the monster spasmed before deflating onto the floor. I wrenched my weapon away and stepped back from the pooling blood and oil-like substance leaking from the mouth wound.


    I grimaced at my quiet System, about to disparage it for not being entertained enough for a prize, when a skill popped up.


    [New Passive: Two-Handed Axe Mastery 1]


    ¡°Gee, thanks.¡± I rolled my eyes as I withdrew a bandage and applied it to my leg. I had a few corpses to make before the axe caught up with my Hammer Mastery, but given the different between the boosts was 2% currently¡­ with one of the weapons being an old workman''s hammer and Threadcutter being a named item¡­


    //Scarlet: A little warning about anything odd in my path next time, please.


    //Bernie: Okay!


    Anything not originally in the desert was suspect. I took another deep breath and considered the fact that even without the sedating buff, things were okay. I wasn¡¯t so shaken up about beating the brains out of this monster. A duck to water, almost. I should be freaking out. Gripped by fear. One wrong move and I would be nothing more than a burned meal for the reptile, but¡­ I survived it.


    I kneeled and picked through the offered loot, being careful not to soak my slacks in the flammable blood.


    [51 Gold]


    [Ring of Firewalking]


    [Flammable Sacs (2)]


    Not exactly overflowing with items, but it looked like Elites were more likely to have magical gear. The ring had a flat +10% fire damage resistance on it, as well as a glib line about warming my soul. The sacs were basically biological molotov cocktails. The gold was... appreciated.


    I ran my tongue around my teeth and looked around the quiet house. Was there any treasure here? The System hadn¡¯t given me a pat on the back for cleansing this area, but it hadn¡¯t at the graveyard either. With the living room and kitchen all but gutted, that mostly left the upstairs left to explore. I had time to kill before Bernie could scout again and wanted to compose myself before I tracked down the group of goblins.


    What had my life become?


    The staircase was looking worse for wear. Thanks to the fire damage, the wooden boards were weakened, and many were split and falling apart thanks to the clumsy weight of the reptile coming to seek me out. Swearing at myself under my breath, I put the axe back into my Inventory and stepped on the stairs, keeping against the wall where it should be structurally safest.


    As everything creaked and shifted with every step, I wondered how much of this was all just me running on autopilot.


    I wasn¡¯t the type to plant my feet and fight things out. But where could I even run at this point? The world was fucked, and I was more likely to get myself into fatal danger by rushing. As much as I hated it, I had to wait for the right time.


    With one last groan, I paused at the top of the stairs. From here I could see out of some of the collapsed roof, into the cluttered desert beyond. Were they¡­ still after me? It was likely they were dead or preoccupied with the world ending. There was still the slim chance. I waited a few seconds before shaking the thoughts from my head.


    Across the landing, I stepped cautiously into the single bedroom. It was dark in there, and I realized my Lightbulb had vanished during combat. I refreshed the cast, as my nose got a whiff of something foul. Brimstone and blood. The light moved forward, illuminating a destroyed bed.


    Well, I had found the skulls missing from the skeletal parts downstairs. The pyromander had been making a nest, the bones of several bodies lining shattered wood and filth. I couldn¡¯t tell if they were human or how long they had been here. Flame had all but bleached and charred the bones beyond recognition. I didn¡¯t feel like digging around the mess for scraps.


    Rather than face the stairs again, I went to the edge of the broken landing and clambered down - hanging from the stable edge and dropping to the living room floor again. Even with the gloves on, my white shirt was covered in patches of soot and ash.


    Glancing around, I stepped into the kitchen, out of sight of the outside world. I unbuttoned my shirt and placed it on the counter, before pulling on the white undershirt from my Inventory. I did the same with the gym shorts, which were the compression kind. Shirt and slacks went back on, and I felt more comfortable. A few extra layers between me and the violent hordes made me almost invincible.


    If only.


    I stepped out of the house and into the warmth of unhindered sunlight. At this point, I had given up the hope of finding a shower. Blood, sweat, and grease covered me like a thin film. But¡­ I still lived. Surviving despite the odds.


    //Scarlet: Knowledge gear good for scouting? Ask Richard.


    Map directed me toward the diner, and I set off. I wondered if they¡¯d accept gold in exchange for cooking me up breakfast. Second breakfast. That is¡­ if they were alive. As dour and heartless as it was, there might at least be something to loot from the building to help me and Bernie survive.


    I brought Threadcutter out, just in case, as I watched the messages ping back.


    //Bernie: He says yes.


    //Bernie: Knowledge or Guile can improve the scouting.


    //Scarlet: Noted.


    I had a sword that needed unveiling by someone with enough Knowledge, and some blank scrolls that were probably for a similar purpose. If I could funnel gear with those stats to Bernie then he might be able to be useful without ever getting into danger.


    Something told me it wouldn¡¯t be tenable for much longer. I turned my head to the side to glance at the city. How many had the aliens killed there? Before even showing up themselves.


    It left a bad taste in my mouth.


    Yet, I wasn¡¯t doing this to be a hero. Not even to protect people like Bernie or those at the diner. Saving the world? Unlikely.


    I was just angry with my lot in life, and taking it out on these monsters was my therapy. Hell, I was even being rewarded for it.


    With a grim smile of determination across my face, I reached the top of the current dune of rough sand and spied the small group of goblins trying to set up a camp.


    I¡¯d show them who was the real monster.

 10 - Dash and Dine

    Wide trails of crimson decorated the amber sand, like an artist had gotten clumsy with their brushstrokes. I was that artist. My axe, the brush.


    The head of the last goblin bounced across the ground, their severed neck spraying blood to the sand like a miniature fountain. I stood in the middle of the corpses, breathing heavily. A wild grin on my face.


    It had been over as soon as I had gotten into melee combat with the group of five short greenskins. They had been angered and eager to take a bite of me, but the first sword-wielding monster was the victim of my Killing Blow. With an upward swing, I had split his ribcage apart, and his organs decorated to the warm ground. The other four had frozen in panic, and only put up a token resistance.


    I growled as I pulled the arrow from my right shoulder. Fuckin¡¯ hated ranged weapons. Giving the corpses a look of disdain, I withdrew a potion bottle and downed the red liquid. Vile. They had gotten a few minor hits on me - my ability to block and parry amateur at best. If they had been level 2 or had an elite, I would have fared a lot worse.


    Still, I didn¡¯t feel bad about picking on the weak. After killing the Elite reptile, this was enough to edge me almost to the next level. Then, if I could grind out another one, I¡¯d be able to choose my first Class back at the bunker. I wasn¡¯t sure if I was even looking forward to that - or getting my hopes up for no reason. It sounded like greater power, but I was ready to be let down.


    Ah, there was my usual pessimism.


    //Scarlet: Any luck on the diner scouting?


    //Bernie: 10 minutes.


    Enough time for me to loot these monsters and get part of the way to the building. Hopefully there was nothing terrible between here and there, although Bernie hadn¡¯t picked anything up so far.


    My eyes went up to my notifications to see what the System thought about me bullying the goblins.


    [Two-Handed Axe Mastery 2]


    [Skull Breaker 3]


    A little more damage, always beneficial. At this rate, my axe mastery would be the first to hit level 5, and then I¡¯d see exactly what kind of boosts were available. I checked the surroundings before looting the goblins. Looked all clear.


    [17 Gold]


    [Water flask (3)]


    [Goblin Spear]


    [Puzzle Piece #329]


    ¡°I would spit on you, but that would be a waste of moisture.¡± I shook my head at the paltry loot, before withdrawing one of the flasks. My mouth was dry, after all.


    Thankfully, the goblins seemed to be carrying around fresh water. I downed the first one and gasped, glad for some actual hydration. The rest of their makeshift camp didn¡¯t look worth the wood it was made of, but I kept the empty flask for the future. I¡¯d save one water for Bernie, but the other I might need¡­ would need, if I was out here all day.


    Against better judgement, I had a look at the description on the new puzzle piece.


    [Puzzle Piece #329]


    [Well, isn¡¯t this puzzling!]


    Disgusting. It was exactly the same message as the other one I had found. I was half tempted to throw them out of my Inventory, but there was a very low chance I¡¯d regret it. Maybe I¡¯d find a puzzle club in the future and we could pool pieces together to finish¡­ whatever it was.


    I sighed and stretched out. Had this invasion not happened, today I would be scrounging around for part-time work to make ends meet. After tipping the waitress, I didn¡¯t have much left for temporary accommodation¡­


    With a frown, I patted my pockets down. I must have left my wallet in my bag in the bunker. Thankfully, the only ID in there was a fake one. Anything else in it was pretty useless now - same for my other bags still stowed in the dead van. There might be a change of clothes, though¡­


    //Bernie: Scouted!


    //Bernie: There¡¯s¡­ Richard is talking my ear off, hang on.


    //Bernie: ¡­


    //Bernie: He says to advise you to avoid the diner entirely.


    //Scarlet: You can tell him¡­ whatever expletives you feel comfortable saying.


    //Scarlet: What¡¯s there? Another Boss?


    My stomach tightened as there was a brief silence. If it was that, then I didn¡¯t have much hope for the two women there. It was only over the next dune or two and I¡¯d be able to see for myself¡­ although I didn¡¯t remember the desert being this bumpy before.


    //Bernie: No, not a Boss. High-density monster group.


    //Bernie: All level 2, Zombies.


    //Scarlet: Are we talking shamblers or sprinters?


    //Bernie: I¡¯ll¡­ ask Richard, as I don¡¯t know what that means.


    A zombie-infested diner. Either a death trap, or¡­ hmm. Overconfidence was often how people died in the movies. As much as I was improving in my combat ability, if the monsters were fast, then I¡¯d be overwhelmed in seconds.


    //Bernie: He says¡­ more like Dawn of the Dead than 7 Days Later.


    I rolled my tongue around in my mouth. There was that taste again. I noticed last night that he had said ¡®Jesus Christ¡¯ when seeing my ghoulish appearance. A very Earth reference. There were a few explanations that could easily tie up why, but now that he knew about zombie movies¡­ it had my hackles up.


    But they were the slower kind.


    //Scarlet: How many?


    //Bernie: I just get a vague 20+ at this level.


    I pinched the bridge of my nose and closed my eyes. All I could think of was the waitress sliding across her number, that damn nervous but friendly look on her face. You¡¯re using this as a proxy for saving yourself. I shook my head and told myself to shut up. This was my world-ending therapy session, after all.


    //Scarlet: I¡¯m doing it, otherwise I¡¯ll never have closure.


    //Bernie: Be safe.


    Be less stupid would probably be a better final message. A horde of zombies? The pair were likely dead, and among the ranks of the walking corpses. It would be a sour reality that I was half prepared for. Still, it was the nearest real building to the bunker. We needed supplies, and I didn¡¯t fancy our chances if I had to drag Bernie outside the bunker to survive.


    It was only a few more idle thoughts about what I was really doing before I got my first view of the diner.


    Yeah. Damn thing was packed with the bastards.


    I froze in position just to take it all in. Switching from one terrifying situation to another, this was the first to really strike that chord of horror within me. An actual crowd of undead hungry for living flesh - and the most monsters I¡¯d seen in one location. They swarmed around the building like a bunch of angry sports fans, some of the windows broken already. Hope was fading, but...


    It was time to gamble again. I was on a lucky streak, which surely wouldn¡¯t end right at the same place this whole thing started.


    My feet took me forward. Part of it was ego. I was better than these monsters¡­ better than the aliens trying to take over the world. That I could survive. Had to survive. All I had to do was avoid getting bitten. I could at least plunder the building for what it was worth, rather than go back empty-handed.


    It took a while for the zombies to sense my approach, but gradually they did. The closest few turned, groaning at the air as if they were sniffing me out. Then, like a flock of birds, they moved in my direction encouraged by the shuffling of the others.


    Easily twenty-five to thirty of them, as several stumbled their way out of the broken doorway of the building.


    I steeled myself and got a tight grip on the Threadcutter. A fool would rush in, try to overpower them in a whirlwind of violence. I knew a little better, even if my experience stemmed from video games and movies.


    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    The group funneled toward me as I paced back and forth at a distance. If they were hungry, they¡¯d have to work for their food.


    Now that they were close enough, I got a good view of the undead. Humans rotting and decayed. Blind eyes that couldn¡¯t see me, but their extended hands knew exactly where I was. Dressed in all manner of casual wear matted and dirtied with blood and bodily fluids.


    Any disdain and anger I had simmered away to distilled calm. Do or die.


    Before the first could reach me, I took two long steps towards him and slashed out with the axe. The zombie¡¯s head burst like a watermelon, and I stepped back away. As the first flopped over, the second missed their lunge toward me. I reacted by jabbing forward with the end of my weapon, catching them in the side of the head and breaking their fragile neck.


    Another step back away and to the right. It was called ¡®kiting¡¯. I¡¯d get a kill or two and retreat, leaving the gormless dead as a slow trail behind me. There was enough space in the desert for me to run circles around the diner. Naturally, fate would have me trip over something - so I just had to watch my step.


    They were... a little quicker than I had expected. The sheer mass of them¡ªa crowd hungry for my demise¡ªwas unsettling.


    I took a flammable sac into my hand, the warm balloon-like object slimy in my grip. Still backpedaling, I threw it past the nearest shambler and struck one a little further back. The sac exploded in a brief flash of flame before the liquid within acted like an accelerant, setting three zombies on fire. They continued to stumble about, inadvertently catching others aflame.


    Two steps and I swung in, severing the arms of one zombie before turning and following-up, opening the torso of a second. This monster flashed red.


    I acted by impulse, the adrenaline of Killing Blow bringing me into the fray. With a heavy overhead swing, I finished them off by splitting them almost entirely in two - my axe cutting from head to groin like it was going through butter. I kicked the remains of the zombie away as the skill wore off.


    Deflected the bite of the armless monster with the shaft of the weapon, before turning and lashing out at another, splitting their arm through their hand and up to the elbow. They flashed red.


    The throes of combat took me again as I tensed up for the execution. With a quick twirl, I spun the large axe in a full circle twice. Not only did I sever the head of my target, but Threadcutter turned another four zombies into bloody ribbons and shattered limbs.


    They were trying to encircle me. Making a break for the empty space would allow them an opportunity to attack me. Fine. If this was how I was going to go out¡­


    I twisted away from a clumsy lunge, running the blade of my axe along the back of their neck, severing it. Turned a jab from the blunt end into a lash out at another. The zombies on fire lost the desire to pursue me and instead stumbled, confused away from the main throng - even as they set others on fire.


    A rotten body collided with me and I slid across the dry sand so as to not tip over, barely staying on my feet. I kicked out, humbling a weak knee so that I could maintain my position. Raised my arm and decaying teeth bit into my bracer. Dreadful thing actually protected me. I head-butted the offender before twisting the blade through their neck. Stomped on reaching hands from one crawling at me. Broke a skull and then disemboweled putrid organs.


    Killing Blow.


    A wide slash that severed three bodies and then I threw a knife that had appeared in my hand. My ability was doing its best to keep me standing, but my muscles were burning with exerted energy. For every twist and cut, another corpse just took the place of the slain. Eventually I would tire.


    But the thought that kept me moving wasn¡¯t for the diner, or Bernie, or even the world.


    I just wanted vengeance.


    A life lived in the gutter now picked up and throw in the dumpster. I reviled the aliens. Every single monster brought here to kill and test humanity. Those roach puppet-masters hiding in the wings.


    Fuck survival. That wasn¡¯t enough.


    I was going to kill every last one of these motherfuckers.


    With anger once again fueling my furnace, I switched stance and went on the offensive. The Threadcutter spun in my hands as I unleashed an unrelenting series of blows. Inaccurate and reckless. Still, body parts were severed and brains were destroyed. I shoved them when they grabbed me. Kicked, punched, and made sure to seal the deal on those suffering injuries.


    Killing Blow activated, and I sliced through the zombie¡¯s stomach, causing them to hunch over. I spun and struck their head with the flat of the blade, bursting their skull into fragments.


    My eyes ablaze, I looked for my next opponent.


    But there were none. Aside from a few stragglers still loitering around the diner interior, the path of destruction from my position to them was soaked with gore. I took a few deep breaths, feeling nauseas from the smell.


    The STAR rang bloody murder.


    [Killing Blow 3]


    [Two-Handed Axe Mastery 4]


    [Skullbreaker 4]


    [Against All Odds 2]


    [New Passive: Decimator: Undead 1]


    [Level Up]


    [You are now Level 4]


    [Received 2 unassigned stat points]


    I spat on the nearest corpse to try to get the bad taste out of my mouth. No such luck. The post combat lull was hitting, and I didn¡¯t have the energy to fully engage with the System bullshit. I flicked away the notifications congratulating me for getting my first disease and curse, and just knocked back one of the Full Restore potions. Something of a cure-all that would heal all the damage taken as well as remove poisons and diseases. Probably something to be used sparingly, but I was over it.


    Looting could wait until I scoped out the diner. Plus, there were still a handful of zombies left and it would be far too ironic to sit and sift through the trash they dropped while a couple snuck up on me. I sighed and looked at my soaked clothes. It was only late morning - it would be forever until the System decided to fix my gear back up.


    //Scarlet: I didn¡¯t die.


    //Scarlet: Checking diner out now.


    I didn¡¯t bother waiting for a reply. My attention switched to the building as I approached. Having a few brain cells left, I even took a route a good distance away from the trail of corpses I had left. One of them might just be pretending. I¡­ almost felt proud of myself.


    The remaining undead fell with little issue. It was as if they were dazed or confused, and didn¡¯t have the help of the horde to make them a threat. I stepped through the doorway - the actual door looked to have been broken off of the hinges. Axe through the head of the one ahead as I kicked away a second, bringing the blade around to meet them. There were just three left now, all behind the counter by the door leading to the back.


    That put them at a disadvantage.


    I glanced around the diner. Place looked like a shitshow now. Bile and grime all over the place. A few corpses of zombies who couldn¡¯t hold out long enough for me to arrive before perishing. So far, none of them looked like Sally. I worked my jaw and exhaled through my nose.


    There might still be supplies in the back, however.


    From this side of the counter, I lashed my axe into the zombies. They couldn¡¯t even reach me, and aside from knocking a few cups to the floor, they were only able to groan briefly in frustration. Didn¡¯t even seem too interested in eating me.


    I flicked the thick blood from my weapon and walked around the counter. It was now a slippery mess, but I made sure to crush their skulls all the same. Taking no chances. I stopped by the doors, a frown on my face. They looked¡­ locked or barricaded?


    ¡°Anyone there? I¡¯ve killed the zombies.¡± I pulled a face and shivered. Wishful thinking, maybe. I might have to take my axe to the door to get in.


    Then¡­ there was a sound. I tilted my head, trying to make it out. Didn¡¯t sound like footsteps, although it was difficult to be sure. I opened my mouth to speak again-


    And the doors burst open.


    A figure wearing a gas mask stepped out suddenly, and I backed away from the long shotgun barrel pointed out in front of their right arm. The sun caught the green lenses of the mask, along with the blonde hair behind it.


    ¡°Scarlet?¡± the muffled voice came from behind the re-breather.


    I looked past the waitress to see a short, portly woman, her gray hair up in curls, brandishing a large knife in her hand.


    ¡°You both survived,¡± I managed to say. Was it relief washing through me? It was hard to tell, but it made my reckless actions seem a bit more rational. Or at least validated.


    ¡°Is this a zombie apocalypse?¡± Sally pulled the mask off of her head, revealing a worried face that clearly hadn¡¯t gotten much sleep last night. ¡°I had a feeling you¡¯d come back.¡±


    There was something about this woman that always disarmed me. Far too trusting and positive, she kept dodging all the walls I put up to stab a screwdriver in where it felt uncomfortable. Pried open, I tried to give her a smile.


    ¡°Yes, and no. Zombies are part of it, but the apocalypse is¡­ more complicated than that.¡±


    ¡°Damnit.¡± The waitress shook her head and frowned. ¡°It would have to happen while I was working, huh? It¡¯ll take me ages to find Theo. Oh!¡± Her annoyance turned back to genuine concern again. ¡°Is Bernie¡­ is he...?"


    ¡°He¡¯s safe. There¡¯s a bunker nearby. I¡¯ll need to take you there or¡­ at least point you in the right direction.¡± I bit my tongue. They were saved, so I owed them nothing more. I really didn¡¯t want to have to explain the STAR and space cockroaches. Fuck, could I even get them in one of the pods? Should I?


    ¡°This is Scarlet, Doris,¡± Sally said to the woman behind her. ¡°The one who really liked your scrambled eggs.¡±


    ¡°Nice to meet you?¡± Doris replied, unsure. She still looked ready to stab me.


    I couldn¡¯t blame her. My clothes were covered in blood and sweat, and I was carrying a large battleaxe. My eyes went from my weapon to the shotgun the waitress held, and then to the kitchen area. Leaving them to make their own way to the bunker wasn¡¯t the worst idea, and it was clear enough that I didn¡¯t have to protect them.


    With the System, I was able to loot everything not nailed down and wouldn¡¯t need to worry about helping them carry things. They could load up a couple of bags and meet up with Bernie. Have a fuckin¡¯ picnic and wait for me to save the world. Yeah.


    ¡°Impressive that you managed to kill all the zombies,¡± Sally continued, undeterred. ¡°You must be really taking to this well.¡±


    I grunted. ¡°Eh, you have no idea. It¡¯s actually¡­¡± My words trailed off as I caught the concerned eyes of the waitress. I knew I looked quite the state, but...


    ¡°Scarlet¡­¡± she said. ¡°You¡¯ve been bitten.¡±


    Pulling a face, I lifted up my left arm to see a wound that was still a little bloody. I must have needed an extra bandage to top off. My eyes went to my HP, which said¡­ 100%.


    ¡°Oh shit,¡± I murmured, as I flipped to my Health Status Screen.


    [Zombie Curse]


    [Left untreated, you will turn into the living dead]