《The North American》 1: Out of The Ashlands My boots sink into the foot-deep carpet of ash until the crunch of gravel stops their descent as I continue forward. My back and knees are killing me as I climb the mountain, the pack on my back weighing me down badly as my hike continues. Each breath is a struggle as the ash falling like snow is thick around here and the filter on my gasmask works overtime to keep me from choking on the fine gray powder, this mixed with the increasing altitude makes my aging body scream in agony with each step. Every few minutes I have to wipe the lenses of my mask so I can watch where I am going, a fall right now could be lethal. As I ascend I pass the wreckage of part of the massive concrete wall that had once surrounded the caldera that started this apocalypse. As I climb my mind wanders back to the start of this all, the walls being hastily built not to stop the volcano, but to stop the strange being that attempted to crawl out of it. I slip into a shell crater and swear loudly as I fall into the pit of ash that nearly goes over my head. I pull myself from the hole and remember the great barrages of artillery fired by the remnants of the US Army to hold the things back as they breached the walls, the futile struggle against something that nowadays is considered a part of life in the Ashlands. We call em "Demons" which is probably untrue to their actual nature, but the word fits. Malicious beings that don''t follow any known biology and have strange abilities that aren''t exactly magic, but they definitely aren''t natural. Distantly over the sound dampening of the falling ash, I hear a haunting howl, like an air-raid siren mixed with a person mimicking a wolf. I can see through the powder ash a blue streak moving below the mountain I am on. I shake my head and continue climbing as the demon passes. The only thing we know is that there are different kinds of them and they can be categorized which is nice I guess. Some can be killed with any gun and others require more ritualistic means or a really big boom to take care of. That one down there is the hard kind, I refer to them as trains due to their sound and shape. Long and streaking is the best description of them, but up close they look like dozens of glowing human silhouettes all in a line moving in tandem. They are one of the least hostile kinds, but as far as I can tell they are an unstoppable force, and if they run into you as they move you just sorta turn into powder. It seems painless from the things I''ve seen, I don''t wanna find out myself. As I pass more old fortifications I remember how life has changed in the ash after all these decades. At first, the only thing to worry about was other people. After the nukes especially because the limited food being shipped in stopped entirely. Those times were the worst as the ash had yet to spawn the ecosystem that it has now, the only food being the rare animal corpse or whatever wasn''t already eaten by the starving masses... there was a third option... but those were times of great starvation... Then after that, the demons came and the less natural aspects of this wasteland appeared... On my hip, the handheld magnetometer I carry makes a loud beep as if something is disrupting the natural magnetic field of the earth. I sigh and grab it. I start waving it back and forth slowly looking for the source of the disruption. I find it and move away, changing my direct path up the mountain taking more energy and causing my aching bones more pain. Alongside the demons, something began popping up throughout the Ashlands. We called them anomalies, naming them after the things from the old video game S.T.A.L.K.E.R. Fitting enough because most of the real anomalies act very similar to those from the game. I don''t know what kind I avoided there, but anomalies are not one category of thing, it''s just what we in the ash call non-living things that are supernatural. From things that can teleport you into the skies to invisible clouds of superheated gas that cook anything living in seconds, there are many fun ways to die in the ash. Luckily anomalies also tend to produce strange magnetic fields, radiation, or radio waves so Geiger counters, magnetometers, and radios are capable of detecting them long before your senses can. I put the device back onto my belt and continue upward to the top of the mountain. I am starting to struggle as the face gets steeper as I get higher and higher. At one point I have to get onto all fours to scramble up the face reminding me of my days as a kid, back when the skies were clear and green grass grew everywhere. The higher I go the worse the ash gets for some reason, yet there isn''t any wind to cause this type of ashfall. After hours and hours of climbing the ash grows thick. My knees are screaming but I have to summit the mountain before nightfall. I probably slipped a disc in my back again due to a stumble earlier, the 75lbs pack on my back doing horrors to my spine, but decades of survival has made my back strong... that and after the supernatural stuff started an ecosystem formed in the ash. Where once were forests of trees, towering mushrooms took their place and the interior of those shrooms turned out to be quite tasty and nutritious. The various beasts and monster-like critters that came about proved to be decently edible. I have no clue how flora and fauna managed to evolve this quickly, but it probably has something to do with radiation and stupid supernatural stuff. Regardless I haven''t been starved since, so I can''t complain too much. I just wish the critters didn''t look like the cryptids I read about when I was younger. It makes it awkward to eat em sometimes. I can see the summit now and I am spurred forward with a sudden jolt of energy. I scramble up the rocky face of the mountain only to be nearly blown off by a powerful gust of wind. As soon as I reach the top the wind is brutal, ripping at me with chilly intensity. I struggle to walk forward into the wind as the powdery ash feels like bullets hitting me. I struggle forward as what appears to be a wall of floating ash is in front of me. I grit my teeth and struggle forward, my boots barely keeping purchase on the bare rocks of the mountaintop. I reach the wall and with all my might I throw myself against the wind and through the wall... I have to cover my eyes as I am blinded by a brilliant light as the wind is suddenly gone, replaced with a gentle breeze... I let my eyes adjust and I slowly open them and loudly gasp for air as a sight I never thought I would see again graces my vision. Before me are green mountain faces, sprawling forests, and endless fields of grass. The sky is blue and beautiful and I can see multiple pristine lakes and rivers flowing from the mountains. The blinding light is the pale sun above which stares down at me invitingly like a friend who I haven''t seen in many many years. I fall to my knees and land on the sparse grass of the mountaintop and run my gloved hands through it as I feel tears well up in my eyes. I have spent decades wandering through the endless expanse of ash with thick clouds above my only sky... through the ruins of the United States and Canada, I never thought this place of all would be the place with blue skies and greenery... I stand above Yellowstone, the last green place in North America, and the ground zero of the apocalypse... I make it down the mountain and stop for a moment to rest my aching body and catch my breath. During this time I exchange the ash filter on my mask and immediately find it super easy to breathe, but I don''t remove any of my protective gear. You don''t survive the apocalypse for decades by not being paranoid. As amazing as this place is, I don''t trust it. I will keep my protective stuff on until I am certain that it is safe here. While I sit I mess with my detection equipment and find nothing anomalous as far as I can tell. Just to be safe I recalibrate them and still find nothing. Across my lap, I keep my SA58 rifle at the ready, just in case. While sitting, to my delight and slight horror a herd of elk walk by, grazing as if I weren''t there. I stay quiet keeping in mind they haven''t seen a human in a while. I watch the creatures until they leave my sight, and only then do I put my equipment on my belt and begin trekking once again, rifle in hand. I move carefully through forests, peering around every tree worried there is some terrible monster awaiting me there, but every time there is nothing, the worst thing I come across is a herd of bison who pay me no mind and I let them pass before I continue forward. I walk by clear water streams, something I appreciate deeply as I fill my canteen, but I put a purification tablet in it for a few hours before I even attempt to sip at it. I watch trout jump out of the water after bugs fluttering around. During this hike, I notice I have a smile on my face the whole time... it''s a good feeling to be in a place like this. I watch the fish for a while as it has been so long since I''ve seen a fish, most waterways being too choked with ash or radioactive for them to exist. You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. I keep moving into the valley, deeper into the caldera of Yellowstone heading for the center of the apocalypse. The sun begins to set so I find a sturdy pine tree and after tying a rope around it I attach spikes to my boots and begin climbing the tree. I get to a bunch of sturdy branches and tie myself to the trunk on a slack line. Using some sturdy tarps and more rope I make a nest for myself up in the tree. I remove my pack and set it next to me, keeping my rifle within arms reach. From my pack I get another tarp and set up a tent over the top of my nest giving me shelter in the event of rain... or what it usually is for, an ashfall. I sip on my freshly purified water and grimace at the taste of the purification chemicals, but the water isn''t lumpy with ash, so that''s a great feeling to simply guzzle down the clear liquid. After every drink I replace my mask before taking a breath, still not certain of the safety of the air. From my bag, I produce a lump of dried and cured meat. I rub it in my hands for a while until the tough fibers are worked down to be less tough, I still have all my teeth, but at my age and after everything a softer meal is probably a better choice. I chew and swallow the meat, its pork-like taste followed by an indescribable bitterness. It reminds me of the starving times, but I''m fairly certain the creature I took it from wasn''t human despite the superficial looks. I finish my meal and drink but have a decision to make, but it''s quickly decided as I pull out the completely sealed bottle of Coors beer I managed to find. My only real vice is my love of drink, but mushroom wine and "beer" is nothing compared to the taste of one from before the ash. I am saving the beer for a special occasion but I''ve decided this is one, as I probably won''t be around to enjoy it after tomorrow... I don''t remember where I heard the rumor. It might''ve been another fake one created by the similarity of our situation to the S.T.A.L.K.E.R game but a few years ago near St.Louis I heard that the center crater from the Yellowstone eruption contained an anomaly that can grant wishes... actually now that I think about it, it is a video game reference, but I had nothing better to do so I began my journey to this place, not like I had many other options because I am at the end of my life. About a year ago in one of the few remaining settlements I had a doctor give me a checkup and during bloodwork, it was found I most likely have some form of bone or blood cancer. The Doctor informed me that it looked to be early stages by their estimation, but in this apocalyptic world, there are no treatment options. This revitalized my journey to the Yellowstone volcano, if not to get a wish, then at the very least to do something before I pass. Now after seeing this place of green... I may get a wish. I finish my beer and replace my mask before I lie back to try and sleep. These old bones require lots of rest after that climb... The radio on my hip squelches suddenly and begins to buzz with static. I wake up immediately and turn it off while grabbing my rifle and flicking the safety off. While normally the radio is used to detect anomalies it can also be used to detect other things, and anomalies don''t move. I slowly remove my upper tarp so I can attempt to see around me in the moonlit night, something I am not used to. I can only hear the sounds of the forest, wolves howling, elk yodeling, and some distant grunts that sound like bison. Then I hear what sounds like wind blowing the leaves and sticks of the forest floor, but there is no wind. It is still. I peer around the tree I am in and notice a huge black shape moving through the trees, snaking and flowing like a living shadow. The wind-flowing sound is its movements over the dead leaves on the forest floor. It flows around my tree and I can see the shadows seemingly flow from a central location at the front, like the head of a snake. It begins circling my tree and those surrounding me slowly and deliberately as it knows I am nearby. The radio is both of our notifications. Some demons can be located with radios as they seem to produce radio static and sometimes quick pulses that sound as if someone is trying to reach you on the other end. They can''t seem to control this at all, but many have learned that the sound of radio static is like a dinner-bell, if they are the kind that needs to eat. I get a feeling like someone running an ice cube down my spine and mentally prepare myself for what is next, "Where are you human? I cannot see, let me know where you are." A voice as smooth as silk and filled with what sounds like pure concern fills my head as it is one of the demons with some form of psychic abilities or whatever it is they use. These are the worst kind and are generally referred to as "greater demons" as they are quite intelligent and quite malicious and dangerous. These guys are the worst because they are rarely susceptible to standard methods of killing, are usually very powerful, and of course, are as smart as humans. These ones hate humanity for some reason and they show it through action. Speaking to me is a method used to lure me out, and the worst part is that it''s hard not to respond. While mind control is non-existent as far as we ashwalkers have figured out the tone of voice they use makes you feel almost bad for not listening to any command or request given. Not through some hypnotic way, but in a similar way when you are disobeying your parents. You feel guilty not responding or not telling the truth. Lucky for me I''m a crotchety old man so I am quite resistant to this sway, but that doesn''t mean I am not scared shitless right now as I keep my rifle trained on the front of the demon. It then speaks again, "I am only trying to help. This place is so far from where humans normally live, isn''t it? Aren''t you lonely without others around? I can accompany you to your destination. I can promise you safety." I stay silent, keeping my breathing as quiet as possible before it starts only circling my tree. I pray silently, mouthing words of salvation. While these demons are not the kind from any bible, sometimes prayer does seem to work, or maybe just coincidence, but I''ve seen it both work and not work so it doesn''t hurt to try in a situation like this, especially when I am so close to my final goal. I stop circling and even without eyes I know it is staring at me and I squeeze the trigger once. The night is illuminated for a moment as the 308 round leaves the barrel, for a moment the demon''s shadows are lifted and I don''t linger on what I saw because there are no words or true descriptions of a being so vile, to think on it would only serve to drive me insane. The deafening crack of the rifle causes the world to go silent for a moment and the demon recoils maybe not in pain, but in fear of the light, I would assume. I use this moment to cut my slackline and put my pack back on. With the grace of a fat, aging cat I clamber down the tree and begin sprinting away as the demon chases me at a leisurely pace. I squeeze another round off causing it to back away for another short while as I head downhill, hopefully toward the crater. I run for a while, catching my breath momentarily when I get far ahead of the demon but I feel myself losing this race for survival, and I know it is playing with me. It could easily catch me at any time, but I think it''s enjoying the chase. I don''t think it was lying that there are no humans here, so it wishes to enjoy the one it has caught. I stumble out of a wooded ridge gasping for breath and coughing my lungs out when I see a red glow in the distance. My eyes follow the light and I see the raised lips of a crater, there it is the center... and possibly a wish... with a goal in sight I continue my run as I replace the empty magazine in my rifle, the sound of rushing wind getting closer. I climb the lip of the crater but surprisingly I don''t feel any heat as would be expected to be coming from a boiling volcano. I can see the shadows slowly make their way up the hill, hesitant of the red light of the lava. I pull myself over the lip expecting something... but all I see is a boiling lake of lava that doesn''t feel hot to me for some reason. I stand on the edge and also notice the edges of the crater are green, all the way up to the lava which makes no sense... none of this makes sense. I back down into the crater emptying my magazine into the demon doing nothing. I stand at the edge where the grass meets the lava and still feel no heat. I hope the light will protect me but the demon approaches, discarding its shadows. The being seemingly composed of tangled thorns and glaring red eyes stares at me and somehow I can tell it is smiling warmly. Not in a cruel or predatory manner, but with genuine care, even though it has no visible mouth. I feel the ice once more and it says, "Congratulations you made it this far. To where it all began, to where it all ended. Is it everything you hoped for?" I laugh and respond, "I dunno, I was told I''d get my wish granted here." The demon pauses and responds with sadness in its voice, "Ah... humans have always been the kind to hope for salvation. I am sorry to tell you, but there is none here. The only wish you may have granted is one for a swift death... I can guarantee that as you have been most fun. It would be too cruel even for me to torment you." I laugh and ask, "So before that... what''s with this lava? Why ain''t it hot?" This gives pause to the demon and it eventually answers as it slowly begins encircling me with its... tendrils? Vines? Arms? I don''t know it just encircles me in whatever it''s made of, "I am surprised you see it as lava because that isn''t what it is. The human mind is quite interesting I do say. I have no idea what it is either but it is the reason this place is green and full of life and why the ash cannot enter here." I nod and watch as the world around me becomes the demon. I begin to accept my fate but remember one little tool I have left. From my bag, the M61 fragmentation grenade I found inside a downed C-130 years ago is produced. I yank the pin, flip the clip, and toss it into the air with my last words, "Well... it''s been a good run..." As the blast goes off a long tendril jets toward my chest and a bright flash blinds me. My last thoughts are, "Frags don''t produce that much light..." My eyes open, staring at a featureless white ceiling... and panic immediately sets in... 2: Awaken White lights, a plain white ceiling, all things I haven''t seen since my 20s... and where I was... I still feel the mask around my face, the long draping weight of my duster coat, and the items I keep hooked on my belt... I didn''t go back before the volcano... and I sure as hell am not in heaven if I''m still wearing this gear, so remembering the situation I was in, I now start to panic. I sit up rapidly, subtly noticing my back doesn''t hurt. I feel around me, finding both my rifle and my pack missing, as well as the two other guns I kept strapped to it. Fear continues to fill me as my eyes fail to adjust to the bright artificial lights of the room I am in. In the blindness of light, I see movement and reach into my duster, and draw the M9 pistol I keep strapped to my side. I point it in the vague direction of the movement and flick the safety off with my thumb. In response, I hear a feminine voice shout, "Whoah! Whoah! Calm the fuck down! Hey, I thought we disarmed this guy!" My eyes adjust, and I see a person in front of me wearing some sort of white doctor''s scrubs. I am able to aim my gun much better now that I can see. They aren''t an ashwalker like me, so I am hesitant to trust them. I don''t say anything, I just aim my pistol at the effeminate male in front of me. In the moments we stare at one another, I can tell it is just a very unfortunate man, who never really developed masculine features, including voice. I feel for the guy to be honest. He holds his hands in the air, showing his submission to my threat of death by 9mm, but in my long time in the ashlands, I know full well a surrender means nothing, but I still hesitate to shoot as he does appear to be some sort of medical personnel. I keep my hand steady and scan the room around me, quickly discerning this is some sort of doctor''s office, which makes sense why there is a nurse here. This causes me to stop panicking for a moment, but I stay suspicious and keep the gun raised. I also start to notice something is off about me as well. My clothing feels a little looser than it did before, but a quick pat down proves that everything is buttoned, zipped, or otherwise synched closed. My back doesn''t hurt at all, which is very odd, and standing here, my knees aren''t screaming at me. My current theory is that I was in some sort of coma, which caused me to lose some weight, and the good painkillers still are active in my body. The door behind the twink slides open and three armed people pile in, shoving the nurse out of the way and behind them. They are covered head to toe in some strange sort of armor that appears to be quite bullet resistant, and they all have guns I don''t recognize trained on me. They look like future cops plain and simple with their eyes hidden behind glowing blue slits in the helmets. The lead one roars, "Sir! Drop the weapon NOW!" I think about it for a moment, realise they want me alive or they would''ve already perforated me, and I am outgunned. I drop the M9 and raise my hands and say, "Alright, I''ll play nice. I''m sorry." The lead one approaches with his gun trained on me and takes his grip off of the foregrip, he uses the free hand to pat me down underneath my coat, and he cusses under his breath and says, "Those bastards didn''t even try to disarm him. I''m gonna kick Asset Acquisitions asses!" I respond, "Yeah, kinda poor practice there. I wouldn''t let that slide." He angrily snaps back, "Shut up, you. My shift is almost over, and of course we get a freakout." I nod with a snort of laughter as he drops all my knives and a few derringer pistols to the ground. He is at least careful with my electronic equipment, taking my belt off and setting it down gently. He then asks, "Alright, we gonna be cool now?" I nod and respond, "I''m cool." He motions to the examination table I woke up on, and I take that as my hint to sit down and wait. The armed men gather my stuff off the ground and take it with them, all the while I''m trying not to be in fight or flight mode, I have to chill, there is no victory to be gained against a well armed and organized group when I am trapped in their facility. So, I sit there on the table and kick my feet... After a short wait, a silver-haired woman in a black and white suit walks in, and she is flanked by two of the guards. She looks odd, hair is that of an older woman, but her face is that of a woman in her early twenties. It''s very odd, as I can tell it isn''t dyed, or she did a really good job at dying her hair. She gives me a pleasant smile, and she pulls up a chair. She sits a few feet away from me and asks, "How are you feeling?" I shrug and respond, "A bit confused but overall I feel quite well." She nods and responds, "Yes, that is very normal, your reaction is quite common... but those responsible for your care seemingly made some mistakes when it came to making sure everyone was safe." I laugh, and she just shakes her head disappointedly and continues, "I am the Department Chief of the Asset Acquisition Department, Illyia Moskovit. Due to the failures of my subordinates, I am the only one I can trust to take care of your... acquisition at this point in time. Now, what is your name?" I answer, "My name is Solomon Agrippa... uhhhh old ashwalker is my role, I guess." Ms.Moskovit gives a soft laugh, and she responds, "Well, nice to meet you, Solomon, your old title doesn''t matter here. You are part of our organization now a new one will be granted to you." I nod slowly and ask, "And what might this organization be?" She lightly strikes her leg, seemingly having forgotten to introduce her organization, and with a proud smile, she responds, "We are Salvation, that is the name of our wonderful organization! You''ll probably love it here." I tilt my head as I am still wearing my mask, so I can''t just raise my eyebrow. She understands and, with a sigh, continues, "I guess I do owe you a little more of an explanation, but it has been so long since I''ve brought a new member into the fold as director, so I don''t wanna ruin any surprises yet." I respond sarcastically, "Oh dang, wouldn''t wanna ruin the surprises! That would be awful to learn about the people who are currently holding me in custody and are telling me I joined something without first giving me a brochure." She shakes her head disapprovingly and asks, "Please walk with me, I will show you Salvation." I hop off the table and really notice how good my body feels. It''s almost as if the weight of age has been cast off my shoulders, and my posture is back to perfect. Ms.Moskovit stands up gracefully, and I follow her out of the room while I am followed by the two armed guards. I step through the door expecting a white hall, but instead I am confronted with a towering corridor of shining metal and distant pulsing lights running across various surfaces. The hall I am in is triangular in shape with dozens of doors lining it. I watch in wonder as the doors are located, shift and change locations, lights attached to them indicating something I do not know. Ms.Moskovit speaks, "Welcome to everyone''s first taste of Salvation. This area is known as the Hall of the Found. This is where all the assets we acquire first appear." I question, "Appear?" She nods and answers, This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. "Yes, each room here is where most of our newest members come to us. Each door has nothing but endless void behind it until someone is summoned, each summoning room forming into a shape or design that the summoned individual can understand. Yours was that of a modern doctor''s office." I watch as a group of people walk by wearing the same white uniforms as the twink that was in my room earlier. They stare right back, trying not to think too hard about my custom room appearing out of nothing. I continue following my guide with my head constantly swiveling around and taking in the sights of this strange place. I ask, "So how did I get here? What method is used?" She turns around and begins talking and walking backward like a tour guide, "Well, that is easy. You are brought here by the Protector. The Protector is sort of our boss and sort of a tool. We do not know where it came from, but it seemingly was the one who started Salvation. It makes many of the major decisions here, notedly it decides who we bring into the fold as an asset." I ask, "This Potector... what is it?" She nods, expecting the question and fires back, "It is an ancient artificial intelligence, one that is central to this entire facility, as it is the facility we are currently in. Yes, I''m sure your world had stories of evil AI taking over and stuff, but don''t worry about that. The Protector itself has stated its only goal is to guarantee the continuation of intelligent life and civilization." I send another question her way, "Okay, so there are multiple worlds it can access... how?" She laughs at the question and responds, "Well, the how is still unknown, as all efforts through technology and mystical arts, the trans-dimensional teleportation it can do cannot be replicated." I reply, "Ah, so it''s trans-dimensional, not interstellar... still lost, but I can understand that enough." She nods and continues, "Yes, of course, any deeper questions will be answered during your training, as you were brought here for a job. You have a role in Salvation as the Protector, and saw something in you that Salvation needs or wants. We just have to figure it out as the Protector is sometimes quite... eccentric when it comes to acquisitions, which is why it''s my department''s role to bring you into the fold and try to figure out why you came here." I nod and ask, "I get this organization is called Salvation, so I assume you save people or something. What is the goal of Salvation?" She nods and replies, "Well, the Protector created Salvation to help it with its duties. Our goal and mission statement are to save civilizations from apocalypse, and then to bring that dimension into the fold, where they are allowed access to all the other dimensions that have also been brought together. This is in order to foster cooperation between intelligent life and make sure civilization is protected. We of Salvation are the foot soldiers of this grand campaign. We are the ones who go to a dying world and either rescue those we can, or prevent the apocalypse and loss of that dimension. There are many diverse situations we find across the different dimensions so the Protector grants us new recruits from wherever it can find them to fill the roles we may be lacking." I inquire, "My world faced an apocalypse... why didn''t Salvation come?" She frowns and responds sadly, "I apologize, but the Protector, as powerful as it may be, is still limited in what it can see and sense. Some worlds are difficult or are outright impossible for the Protector to find for many various reasons. I assume your world is one of those, and when it found you and teleported you here, something about the situation you were in allowed it to see you alone, or so we can assume for now. I am sorry about the struggles your people faced alone." I nod and respond, "Well... I''m alive and well, so the struggles weren''t too bad, plus we are slowly trying to build a future." She nods with a smile and responds, "And I hope one day the Protector can find your home and bring it into the fold so that we may uplift your people." I nod, saying nothing. She takes this as my understanding and continues, "When it comes to asset acquisition, our role is to understand what the Protector has sent us. It gives us hints, but never directly tells us what the catch of the day is. I''m sure you saw all the different lights marking the doors; these have some meaning to us. It allows us to categorize the importance of a new acquisition. We have a scaling system based on the hints the Protector gives us. There are two lights on each door, and they both reference something different about the new acquisition. One is what we call the importance or quality of the acquisition, which means the Protector believes this acquisition is very important to our cause, or is otherwise a rare talent that we don''t often see. We rank this on a scale of 1 to 10. 10 is the highest, 1 being the lowest. This doesn''t tell us exactly what this acquisition can do, only that the Protector deems it a high priority or not, or of proper quality. It may sound counterproductive to bring in 1s, but the specific knowledge and expertise of even the lowest quality acquisition can always shift the balance in a bad situation, and at the very least, we get more manpower, as not all situations or roles require the best of the best to solve. The second light is a little more difficult to understand. We call it the gift light as the Protector uses this light to describe what the acquisition does or what it can do for us. There is a big chart for us in Asset Acquisition to determine what this means. Blue usually means some sort of magician or related ability, yellow tends to be a special physical talent, and red is other, and this light comes in a spectrum, so we have difficulty sometimes understanding it." I ask, "What did mine say?" She grimaces and sheepishly replies, "Well... I am not just with you because of my subordinates'' failures... You are also an anomaly. You are the first 10 we have had in a long time. Now, before you start strutting around, this doesn''t mean you are more powerful than anyone or get any special treatment, it just means you are a rarity or offer something important. As for your gift... the light was grayish, so we have no clue what that means. I can''t say it''s good or bad, so we will have to run some tests. I''m here mostly because the last time we had an anomalous acquisition, they turned out to be quite bothersome before we managed to reign them in." I nod, confused at the strange ranking system, but I move forward, strutting a little bit knowing I got the highest rank or whatever. We move to the end of the corridor and stop in front of the huge exit doors. Ms.Moskovit announces, "Prepare yourself, Solomon, because through these doors is the central concourse of the main facility where we operate and where trans-dimensional commerce, politics, and interaction take place..." I take a deep breath, and the doors slide open, and my eyes go wide as she finishes her announcement, "... Welcome to Facility Zero, also known as the Core of Dimensions." I stare out across the expanse before me. A practical city inside of this concourse, as it''s called. Towers of shining lights and signs, all made of the same futuristic materials that the rest of the facility is made up of. This central concourse is large enough to have large flying machines move between the buildings, expertly flying to their destinations, incredibly fast monorail trains dart inside and out of the many buildings and around the concourse, leading to places I cannot see. By my estimation, the far wall from me, which is difficult to even see, is over ten miles away at least. I can see the flowing swarm of people below me, about a mile down, but cannot make out any features of those below, just an endless river of vehicles and people flowing. If it weren''t for my mask, I''d probably look really stupid with my mouth hanging agape. I haven''t seen a city like this ever, and I haven''t seen an alive city for over four decades, so this is wonderful to me. From the dirty and subdued world of endless ash to a clean and vibrant city that can only be found within science fiction novels. I guess my posture showed my wonderment, so Ms.Moskovit explains, "This is the Central Concourse, which works as the ultimate mixing pot of all peoples the Protector has brought into the fold. It is considered a megacity considering its population, as those skyscrapers go a few hundred stories down past what looks like the ground. This is the place where the refugees from destroyed worlds are housed, so the decimated populations of hundreds, if not thousands, of worlds live in the Central Concourse alone. There are four more spires, which form a megacity in its own right, connected via the green corridors, which are massive halls that contain our "rural" population and agricultural sectors. This entire facility is completely self-sufficient, to the point of excess, so it trades with all the other dimensions we are friendly with. This means this is the place where anyone from any dimension can buy anything produced in a different dimension. Thus creating one of the greatest economies ever with a centralized currency so no exchange rates either." I am at a loss for words, but I stammer out, "I''ve never lived in a city like this before..." She giggles and answers me, "No, you won''t live there, but you can visit anytime you aren''t on duty. We in Salvation live in the upper levels only, mostly to keep us out of the way of the more normal folk." I ask, "Are we like the police here too?" She laughs again and answers, "No, that is up to the facility security, like the guys with us right now. We are entirely dedicated to going out and helping people outside of Facility Zero, but I guess if things get bad enough, we can come to the rescue, but that has never happened." I nod and find myself in almost a trance, taking in everything that I can see of the city below. I don''t even resist as the two guards gently push me along and onto a small tram which zips across a precarious monorail, which gives me an even greater view of the city. My sigh-seeing is ended when the tram enters a tunnel and stops in a futuristic, but very recognizable train station. There is more security here, but also people wearing various uniforms, some very combat-esque and others quite fashionable as far as my knowledge goes. They stare at me, and I can''t help but feel a little self-conscious as I am very dirty compared to the cleanliness of everyone else here. My duster quite literally has years of ash caked onto it in places, and I also notice the trail of ash that follows me with every step, making me feel bad for the cleaners. Some looks toward me are cross, others friendly, and some unreadable. I try to wave back at those who give me that courtesy. I am led through pristine halls with various portraits on the walls to what is very much a medical clinic. Ms.Moskovit explains to me, "Here we will determine what you are capable of as well as find you a role. These tests are minimally invasive, as this is also your medical checkup, as some of our acquisitions have come in quite damaged or ill before. So this is just a precaution. I will be overseeing your progress here and will also help with some of your general training before more specialized training for your role can be done. Also, before I leave you in our medical staff''s capable hands, I will warn you that the Protector may have modified your body in some way during your teleportation here. This is usually quite minimal and largely is to protect you from any issues that your dimension coded into your DNA, such as genetic disorders and stuff. The Protector wanted you for you, so it usually doesn''t change much." I nod, noting that my back pain is gone, so maybe the Protector took that away since my dad always suffered with it, just as his dad before him did. I am approached by a group of women all dressed like stereotypical 50''s nurses, but their uniforms are a soft pink overall. They grab me by the arms with surprisingly strong grips, and I am carried into the back of this strange medical facility, I manage to joke, "Well, can''t say I haven''t had one or two dreams like this before..." A few of them giggle, but I notice the grips on my arms grow tighter as if they are restraining me. What craziness have I gotten myself into? 3: What They Found Under the Ash I am brought into a dark room by the women, and they shove me in roughly. From within the darkness, a male voice states, "Strip." I respond, "Gotta wine and dine me first buddy, and I ain''t cheap." There is a quiet, "Goddammit..." Then the voice says, "Okay, please remove your clothes so you can be looked over medically. It''s dark right now for the sake of the ladies who brought you in." I sigh and drop my coat, which hits the ground with a heavy thud due to all the compacted ash and some modifications I had made to it over the years, the cut-resistant leather I stiched on adding the most weight. As soon as it hits the ground, I hear it being grabbed and dragged off. Standing in my insulated underclothes, I ask, "Are there still women in the room? I don''t like being blind like this." The voice responds, "No, those are automated arms grabbing your stuff for storage and possibly research, considering how heavy that coat sounded." I grunt in frustration and remove the multiple layers of clothes from myself. Without the sun, the ashlands were cold as hell. My plate carrier hits the ground with a loud clang as the steel I duct-taped to an old webbing rig is bare to the world without the cloth covering I wore over it. I drop the few knives the guards hadn''t found on my person, and I start removing my boots and socks. After I remove my mask, I get a whiff of myself and I ask, "Hey... I don''t know how you''ll take this, but I stink really fucking bad. I don''t think I''ve properly bathed in like three years." The voice sighs, and a door illuminates on the other side of the room. It says, "Okay. That''s disgusting, and normally we only allow showers after the preliminary inspection because we like to research the bacteria and other microorganisms growing on the exterior of any new acquisition. I guess thanks for warning me, I really don''t feel like whiffing straight body odor today. There should be some underpants in the bathroom illuminated. " I grunt in approval and head to the light. I open the door and have to cover my eyes. I never realised how dingy the lenses on my mask are until now. Even in the light of the room I arrived in, the dirty lenses protected my eyes from the worst of it, especially in the clear skies of Yellowstone. The ashlands on a bright day could be best described as twilight. I stumble into the shower with my eyes squinted and fumble with the valves for a while until a nice stream of hot water washes over me. I can''t help but let out a groan of pleasure as it''s probably been a decade since I had a proper shower with running hot water, especially with good soap. I wash myself, and slowly my eyes adjust to the brilliant artificial light. I towel myself off, and when I look u,p I leap back and let out a shout of surprise, until I realise what I see is a mirror, but I don''t recognize myself. I saw my reflection about 2 years ago, by my estimation, and I was a white-haired and grizzled-looking old guy, beaten down by the harsh life in the ashlands. I was considered highly respected for surviving to old age in such a harsh and dangerous place, but looking back at me is my 20-something-year-old self, both in build and age. I guess this is why my clothes felt loose because I lost my old man fat and bulk, replaced with the lean, mean fighting machine I was when the volcano first erupted, although I can still see the old man in there. My eyes are still off-color, my blue irises are so dark navy it appears almost as if I only have pupils, and my whites are still grayish and bloodshot, my eyes looking this way as a side effect of living in the darkness. My skin is grayish due to lack of vitamin D and direct sunlight, the only sources in the ashlands were from certain mushrooms, which were damn-near inedible in taste, or in the rare event you find someone''s vitamin cabinet still intact. I realise the Protector didn''t cure my genetic back pain, it practically reversed all the main effects of aging, no clue how or why, but all my ashwalker traits are still there, just not on an old man. Also, for some reason, it shaved me as I know fully well I had a scraggly and patchy white beard. I run my hands through my rethickened dark brown hair and notice the texture is silky and nice, not how it was last, stringy and rough. Also my body is still covered in the multitude of scars I gained along the way, so I just was deaged, which is nice... I pull the underwear on and enter the dark room once again and say, "I am clean enough for now, but I have some questions...Ah!" The lights flash on before I finish, and I cover my eyes, which are still adjusting to all the light. The voice then says, "Yes, of course, I''m sure some of your genetic woes are gone, but we have tests to run, and it''s almost dinner time. " I laugh and rub my eyes as a strong hand grabs me and directs me to sit on a table. My eyes adjust and I meet the voice, a mountain of a man with a thick black beard and blad head. He is wearing scrubs in the same pink color as the women before, and it causes me to snigger. He glares at me and asks, "What is it, gray boy?" I reply, "Did your dimension have Kirby?" He grunts and says, "No. Why?" He wraps some sort of device around my arm and sticks a needle in my very visible veins. I answer, "Well, hes this pink little ball thing that can''t stop shoving food in his face. I just noticed some comparisons." He doesn''t seem amused, and the next needle goes in quite a bit more forcibly. He then shoots back, "At least I don''t look like a fucking zombie, I''m really more impressed you have all your teeth, and how the hell are they so white?" I shrug and reply, "Dunno, something we ate in the ashlands was really good for dental health. No clue which thing it was." He asks, "Yeah, about this ashland. What the hell does that mean? Your clothing was covered in soot or something." I respond, "Well... It''s ash that covered me, and the ashlands are a place filled with ash. Kinda the whole continent I lived on got turbo-fucked by a supervolcano and somehow the ash never settled so we had like clouds over us the whole time." He grunts in acknowledgment and mutters, "That explains the need for a tanning bed..." He then asks, "Have you always been such an asshole?" I shrug and reply, "Well sorta, probably since I was like three or..." I trail off as I note I can suddenly remember that I''ve been a smartass since three years of age. Then it comes to me, why in my later years I really went all out on finding Yellowstone and a place to rest. I say to no one in particular, "The Protector cured my Alzheimer''s..." The pink man looks at me confused and asks, "Alzheimer''s?" I respond, "That''s why I''m young now... There is no real cure for the disease as it''s a degeneration of the brain..." He steps back and asks, "Is... is that contagious?" I shake my head, now confused, "Did your world not have alzheimers? It''s when old people go crazy because their brains degenerate." He shakes his head, a look of horror in his eyes, "No... old people where I am from are revered for wisdom until their dying breaths. What the hell kind of world lets a disease like that come?" I shrug and respond, "It runs in my family, it''s genetic, or at least our scientists think it is, I mean it doesn''t affect everyone." Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. He shudders and continues hooking me up to machines, scolding me, "Well, let me know it''s a genetic thing. The Protector cured you of that. But what about being young?" I answer, "I was a wrinkly ass old man at the ripe age of 76 or so, now I''m physically in my twenties or so, just with all the negatives I picked up in the ash through decades." He shakes his head and responds, "Well, lucky you, I came here at thirty-eight and am still thirty-eight, no one in Salvation ages, so I got all the benefits of being middle-aged." I laugh at his predicament, but keep it in the back of my mind that no one in Salvation ages, I''ll have to ask about that. I watch my blood being collected for various tests, and all the different pieces of equipment begin buzzing around me. Information that I cannot understand scrolls across the various screens in the room, and the big pink blob stares at them with mild interest. There is a ding like a toaster finishing its job, and the man reads the information that is now static. He then says to me, "Very interesting, your blood-cell count is considerably higher than what''s normal for people, but you aren''t built like the others who lived in mountainous environments. There are signs that dissolved oxygen was low on multiple occasions in your recent life... ah, that makes sense... we just took apart your gas mask filter and found it practically clogged with ash, so you were basically in a low oxygen environment." I then respond, "That and all the trees, grass, and algae were gone in my world too, or at least in the areas I frequented. I''m not a volcano-ologist, but I''ve read somewhere that massive volcanic eruptions can cause massive atmospheric changes, so the ratio of oxygen in the atmosphere could be off. What''s the composition in Facility-Zero?" He thinks for a second, pulls out what looks like a smartphone, and after he checks, he replies, "About 25% give or take one in either direction." I let out a long whistle and say, "No wonder I''m so ornery, that''s a massive boost in good air in my lungs, even before the eruption, we sat at a healthy 21%." He nods and continues reading off my blood work, "You have a massive vitamin-D deficiency, but your body is somehow not falling apart at the seams. Actually it looks like your body adapted pretty well to work with critical levels of it. I can also see a few other deficiencies, but nothing as bad as that. Also, you have type B+ blood, can''t even get a perfect score." I laugh at the joke, and he then explains, "Your heart is the strangest thing to me. Your heart rate is stupidly slow, but your blood pressure is really good, like your heart does these slow but massive beats, probably another oxygen-related adaptation. Does your heart rate ever get high?" I respond, "Yeah, of course. My life since the eruption has been nothing if not terrifying and stressful." He nods and logs something on the machine. I sit there kicking my feet as he goes over my vitals, I even have to breathe into a machine, and I learn that my lungs are quite efficient as I release very little oxygen on exhale, removing most of the carbondioxide from my body, but then again it makes sense because I was sucking air through a filter, the odd thing is how quickly my body adapted to my life in the ash. A few decades seem too short for that to happen. I ignore that for now, I assume there is a reason, and I can probably ask someone later about that. The room is quiet for a while before the man backs away from me slowly after reading something, and he asks carefully, "Are you feeling alright?" I nod and confusedly ask, "Yeah? I mean, I feel better than I ever have." He shakes his head and speaks into his smartphone thing, and he creeps away from me. I watch with mild amusement as this big guy acts afraid of me for some reason. He then gets a response which I can''t hear, but he quickly starts a whisper argument with the person on the other side before he sighs and tells me from the other side of the room, "So it appears you are a biohazard. Multiple unknown fungi and viruses, the ones we do know are considered quite deadly, and they aren''t the deactivated viruses human immune systems keep around for reference. On top of that, as it turns out, you are outright toxic, with multiple neurotoxins in your blood and other parts of your body, and seemingly they aren''t affecting you. " I nod and ask surprised, "And what are we gonna do about it?" He shakes his head and tells me, "Well, this checkup and biometric reading has just turned into an in-depth research of your unique biology caused by your unique situation." I nod and request, "Tell me what this means?" He shurgs as one of the machines beeps and a group of three people in pink biohazard PPE walk into the room. He says, "Well, we are putting you under while we do some... invasive research." I try to reply, but the world starts spinning around me as I realize one of the tubes used to take my blood is now injecting something. I try to fight the drug, but I quickly lose... I just remember I did eat and drink in the last 24 hours, I hope they fixed the anasthesia puking problem... I wake up tucked into a hospital bed. I am still in my underwear, but I can''t feel anything different. No pain from surgeries or anything. I pull my blankets down and look at my corpse-colored skin and find no new scars. I look at myself all over and find nothing new. I worry that they may have alien probed me, but I feel nothing out of place downstairs. I am yanked from my self-inspection by the voice of Ms.Moskovit stating, "I somehow expected your body to purge the drugs from your system on its own. Heck, you aren''t even groggy like most people are after coming out." I laugh and respond, "I guess you guys need more potent stuff then." She nods dismissively and asks, "Do you want to know what we discovered about you?" Her voice somehow sounds both disappointed and surprised at the same time. I nod, and she pulls up a tablet, explaining what they discovered about me, "First things first, we may have figured out why your body seems to be functioning despite major vitamin deficiencies stemming from what is likely a poor diet due to apocalyptic circumstances. Somehow, your body has formed a strange symbiosis with multiple unknown fungi and bacteria, possibly one or two viruses as well. These microscopic things are able to break down many known extremely toxic neurotoxins, haemotoxins, and at least one tetrodotoxin, be it in your blood or your gut, and both places have their own personal ecosystem, so they aren''t even the same microorganisms. The strangest part is that they can break down these poisons and convert them to usable ATP in some cases, and others somehow convert their intricate structures into something that somewhat works like the vitamins and minerals missing in your diet. How they came about is beyond us, and I''m sure you have no idea either. We also tested a few known nerve agents on you, guess what? Your body flushed them, be it via the same microbiomes as before, or for some reason your immune system being just... turbocharged. Again, don''t go breathing nerve gas, it was only the least potent ones we used, which still is saying something as they are nerve agents. Also, we have reason to believe they would leave you paralyzed for a little while before your body can flush them, so don''t think you''re that unnatural. The second resistance we tested was your body''s resistance to psionic attacks, and we found that you are nearly immune to everything we threw at you, but we stopped after a certain point so as not to accidentally kill you. Also, tell me, have you ever encountered a psychic attack?" I think for a moment and remember the demon. I respond, "Yeah, many times. A few years after the volcano blew, some things we called demons showed up. Very diverse bunch, but some of the smarter ones could talk to ya in your head and try to lure you out. The worst they could do is try to convince you with this paternal authority, and that''s about it. So I doubt I faced anything too powerful." She asks carefully, "Describe these... demons... we may have different understanding of the word." I nod and describe all the different types I encountered, especially the last one that was about to kill me before I showed up here. I watch as Ms.Moskovit grows pale as I describe them. When finished, she responds, "That... is horrifying. What you just described is one of the things we are consistently fighting with. Do not call them demons, it''s considered offensive to... well, during your training you''ll learn, but those are called Khaos Born, creatures that are a massive unknown to even the Protector. They show up randomly and are usually the apocalypse themselves. You faced one of the most potent psychic attacks known to us at the moment. That last one is known as a Thorny King, one of the highest threat level varieties. At best, when it speaks in your head like that, it completely mind controls you; at worst, it liquefies your brain. Overall, this proves your psionic resistance is without a doubt one of the strongest natural ones we have come across." I ask, "So you can train it?" She nods, replying, "To get to your level, a normal person would have to face psychic torment for literal decades just to get to nearly your level, but even that may not be enough." I nod and rub my chin and she then continues with a deep sigh, "Then we tested your magical resistance a-" I interrupt her, "Okay, I''ve heard magic and mana and all this bullshit being thrown around, I was holding off on asking about magic but since I guess you blasted me with it, what''s up with magic? Is it real?" She raises her eyebrows both in shock at my interruption and genuine intrigue at my question. She asks, "Did your world not have magic?" I shake my head and say, "Aside from those... Khaos Born and a few other supernatural things that appeared with them or around the same time, my world never had magic, maybe like in ancient times but my modern world magic is entirely left for fantasy and the insane." She nods thoughtfully and explains, "I''ll add a basic magic lesson to your training, but for now, yes magic does exist and while it is beleived to come in many different forms it always boils down to four key elements, Fire water, air, earth, and through them their corresponding mana that forms naturally in most worlds. The lesson will be more detailed, but yes, magic exists. Now, describe the supernatural things?" I nod and explain anomalies and the few supernatural critters that appeared. She responds, "Those anomalies are what we call mana wells, and they are places where mana flows into the world around them. What you described are incredibly rich mana wells. Normally, people from low mana worlds have poor magic resistance, but if you are close enough to those mana wells to describe certain aspects, you clearly had a strong mana resistance from birth, it seems. Your body managed to reflect 95% of the mana we fired at you... through tiny beams so as to, at worst, burn you. Once again, you have a natural resistance that usually takes decades of specialized and brutal training, as for mana it is for individual elements." I flex my arms and brag, "Yeah, I''m just the toughest son of a bitch around. Sorry about the others, I''m just built differently." She then lets out a long sigh of disappointment and corrects me, "No, you really aren''t that tough, just against most toxins, diseases, mana, and psionic attacks. Physically, you are... below average in resistance to damage, to what we normally receive here at Salvation. We are able to penetrate your skin without issue or specialized tools; you literally bruised from the nurses carrying you in, and of course, your temperature resistance is really low.The scarring on your body should''ve tipped us off on how... squishy you are." I frown and grab what I can off my gut, now feeling a little self-conscious. She then continues, "We were very excited for a moment because we believed your unique resistances would make you an incredible defensive asset, but your physical resistance is lacking, and since you just confirmed you don''t know of magic, it is safe to assume you can''t use it to harden your body or something. While definitely unique, you have greatly disappointed us." I frown and ask, "Now what?" She responds deadpan, "We will now test your combat attributes and other skills that Salvation finds important for its assets." She tosses me some clothes, and I slip into the white athletic pants and shirt. I find my boots sitting next to the bed, cleaned up perfectly, and I tie them on. Ms.Moskovit motions for me to follow as she exits the room. I follow her through the halls of this medical building, getting stared at by the nurses as I pass. Our destination is a blank, white room. I ask excitedly, "Is this like one of those science fiction holographic rooms?" She furrows her brows and responds with another sigh, "It is a hardlight training room... so I guess you''re close enough." I smile widely at her as she shuts the door, leaving me in the room alone. Through a speaker,r she speaks to me, "The room will run you through a series of tests. Do them to the best of your ability." I nod to nowhere in particular as the room glows brightly, blinding me once again, and I hear a loud buzzing as a new world is formed around me...