《Radiant Reckoning》 Chapter 1 - A Fathers Burden Ethan rubbed his eyes, the burn of exhaustion searing the edges of his vision. Eight hours of staring at a computer screen had left his eyes raw, as if they were ready to abandon his skull for a less demanding host. The fluorescent hum of the office lights still echoed in his mind, a relentless drone that followed him even into the quiet of his car. He leaned back in the driver¡¯s seat, the cracked leather creaking under his weight, and let out a slow, shuddering breath. His hands, smooth from years of desk work, gripped the steering wheel a little too tightly, the plastic cool against his palms. He needed to pull himself together. There was no time to break¡ªnot now, not ever. He glanced at the dashboard clock: 5:00 p.m. Thirty minutes to pick up Declan from school and get to baseball practice. After that, the evening loomed like a gauntlet¡ªcook dinner, help Declan with his math homework (God help him if it was long division again), get the kid bathed, and tuck him into bed. Then, and only then, could Ethan tackle the presentation for work tomorrow, a deadline that had been gnawing at his nerves all week. Sleep was a luxury he couldn¡¯t afford, not with a ten-year-old counting on him to keep their little world from falling apart. He wouldn¡¯t break. He couldn¡¯t. Ethan had been a single father for eight years, a role he¡¯d never imagined when he¡¯d first held Declan in his arms, a tiny bundle of warmth wrapped in a hospital blanket. Declan¡¯s mother, Tara, had walked out when the boy was two, her departure as sudden as a summer storm. At first, she¡¯d fought for custody¡ªnot out of love, but for the child support payments she thought she could milk from Ethan. When he¡¯d lawyered up, ready to fight tooth and nail for his son, she¡¯d folded. ¡°He¡¯s not worth the hassle,¡± she¡¯d said, her voice cold over the phone, and that was the last he¡¯d heard from her. Ethan couldn¡¯t fathom it. To him, Declan was everything¡ªthe sun, the stars, the very air he breathed. He¡¯d kill for that boy, no question. He¡¯d die for him too. The memory of Tara¡¯s abandonment still burned, a quiet ember of anger buried deep in his chest. It flared now as he drove, the familiar route to Westwood Elementary a blur of suburban streets and fading daylight. How could she just leave? How could anyone look at Declan¡ªhis wide, curious eyes, his lopsided grin¡ªand decide he wasn¡¯t enough? Ethan shook his head, forcing the thought away. It didn¡¯t matter. She was gone, and he was here. That was what counted. He pulled into the school parking lot, the brown brick building looming ahead like a relic from a bygone era. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the asphalt, painting the world in hues of gold and amber. Ethan stepped out of the car, his sneakers scuffing on stray gravel, and made his way to the front office. Inside, the air smelled of crayons and disinfectant, a nostalgic mix that tugged at memories of his own childhood. The sweet older lady at the check-out desk looked up with a warm smile, her silver hair pinned back in a neat bun. ¡°I need Declan in 4th,¡± she said into her radio, her voice crackling through the static. She set the radio down and turned her attention to Ethan. ¡°How are you today, Mr. Carter?¡± ¡°Any better and I¡¯d have to be sedated,¡± he replied, forcing a grin. It was a lie, but it beat the monotony of ¡°Fine¡± or some other hollow response. He wished he could remember her name¡ªMrs. Something-or-Other. She¡¯d been here every day for the past five years, her kind eyes and gentle demeanor a constant in Declan¡¯s school life, but her name had slipped through the cracks of Ethan¡¯s overworked mind. Asking now felt awkward, so he let it slide, as always. Her smile widened, crinkling the corners of her eyes. ¡°Oh, you¡¯re a charmer, aren¡¯t you?¡± She launched into a story about her day¡ªsomething about a kindergartener spilling glitter all over the art room¡ªand Ethan nodded at all the right moments, his mind half on her words, half on the ticking clock. He appreciated her warmth, but his exhaustion made it hard to focus. His body ached, a dull throb in his lower back from sitting too long, and his stomach growled, reminding him he¡¯d skipped lunch to finish a report. Declan¡¯s arrival snapped him out of his haze. The ten-year-old burst into the office, his backpack swinging wildly as he launched it at Ethan with a mischievous grin. Ethan caught it with a grunt, the weight heavier than expected¡ªprobably stuffed with library books again. ¡°Hey, buddy,¡± he said, ruffling Declan¡¯s dark hair, the same shade as his own. ¡°How¡¯d school go?¡± Declan shrugged, his enthusiasm dimming. ¡°Fine.¡± He didn¡¯t stop, marching straight out the door toward the car, his sneakers scuffing the linoleum. Ethan followed, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. ¡°Kiss any girls today?¡± Declan¡¯s nose scrunched in disgust, his green eyes flashing with indignation. ¡°Ewww, no!¡± He stuck out his tongue for good measure, and Ethan chuckled, the sound a rare burst of lightness in his chest. He savored these moments¡ªthe innocence of cooties, the simplicity of a world where girls were still gross. He dreaded the day that changed, the day Declan would grow up and face the harder truths of life. For now, though, he¡¯d hold onto this. ¡°We need to hurry,¡± Ethan said, his tone shifting to business. ¡°Practice starts at 5:30.¡± He opened the car door, the hinges squeaking in protest, and Declan climbed in with a dramatic groan, throwing his head back against the seat. ¡°Do we have to?¡± the boy whined, his voice a mix of exasperation and pleading. Ethan knew exactly what Declan wanted¡ªto go home, sprawl on the couch, and dive into his video game. A new season had just dropped, and Declan had been babbling about leveling up to unlock character skins all week. But Ethan wasn¡¯t about to let him skip practice. ¡°You know we do,¡± he said firmly, sliding into the driver¡¯s seat. ¡°Your cleats are in the backseat. Get ¡®em on.¡± Declan huffed but obeyed, his small hands fumbling with the laces. Ethan watched him in the rearview mirror, a pang of pride mixing with his exhaustion. He loved Declan more than life itself, but he wasn¡¯t one for gentle parenting. Respect and discipline mattered¡ªwhen Declan pushed boundaries, Ethan set him straight, no hesitation. It was how he¡¯d been raised, and it was how he¡¯d raise his son. Still, he couldn¡¯t help but soften at the sight of Declan¡¯s focused expression, the tip of his tongue poking out as he tied his shoes. They arrived at the ballpark with three minutes to spare, the field a patchwork of green grass and red dirt under the late afternoon sun. Declan grabbed his bat and glove, his earlier reluctance forgotten as he sprinted toward his teammates, a blur of energy and laughter. Ethan watched him go, a smile tugging at his lips. The kid was a social butterfly, far more outgoing than his father. Social enCarterments drained Ethan to his core¡ªhe¡¯d always needed solitude to recharge, a quiet corner to escape the noise of the world. But Declan thrived on connection, his laughter echoing across the field as he high-fived his friends. Ethan leaned back against the car, the metal warm against his back, and let himself breathe for a moment. He fished his earbuds from his pocket, the cords tangled as always, and plugged them into his phone. His audiobook app was already open, the latest installment of his favorite series ready to go. The story followed a hunter chosen by a lizard god, a gritty tale of survival and ascension through a dungeon-filled world. In this book, the hunter was navigating a labyrinth, killing monsters to advance his skills and evolve to higher tiers. Ethan envied the simplicity of it¡ªkill, grow stronger, repeat. No bills, no deadlines, no single parenting. Just power, progress, and purpose. The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. He closed his eyes, letting the narrator¡¯s voice wash over him, the words painting vivid images of blood-soaked battles and glowing runes. But his mind wandered, as it always did, to Declan. What would he do with his son in a world like that? Protect him, of course¡ªalways protect him. But how? The thought gnawed at him, a quiet fear that had lived in his chest since Tara left. What if he wasn¡¯t enough? A cheer from the field pulled him back to reality. Declan was at bat, his small frame coiled with focus as he swung. The ball sailed through the gap between second base and shortstop, a solid hit, and Declan took off running, his teammates shouting encouragement. Ethan¡¯s heart swelled, a rare moment of peace settling over him. Maybe he was doing okay after all. Then he saw it¡ªa light in the sky, stark against the golden hue of the setting sun. It was too bright, too steady to be a plane or a star, and it was growing larger, closer, with every passing second. Ethan frowned, his audiobook forgotten as he pulled out his earbuds. He wasn¡¯t the only one who noticed. Parents in the bleachers were standing now, pointing, their voices a low murmur of confusion. A few kids on the field glanced up, distracted, but Declan and his teammates were too focused on the game to care. Ethan stepped away from the car, his sneakers crunching on the gravel lot, and moved toward the field entrance, his eyes locked on the light. It was descending fast, a blazing orb that seemed to pulse with an otherworldly energy. His stomach twisted, a primal instinct screaming that this was wrong¡ªdangerously wrong. ¡°Declan!¡± he shouted, his voice cutting through the chatter, raw with urgency. The coaches turned, confused, their brows furrowing as they followed his gaze. The light was almost upon them now, a meteor hurtling straight for the field. Parents screamed, some grabbing their kids and running, others frozen in shock. The coaches finally looked up, their faces paling as they realized the danger. ¡°Get off the field!¡± one of them yelled, but it was too late. Ethan sprinted through the chain-link gate, his heart pounding in his ears, every muscle screaming as he raced toward his son. Declan was still on the bases, oblivious, laughing with a teammate. ¡°Declan, now!¡± Ethan roared, his voice breaking with desperation. The boy turned, his smile fading as he saw the terror on his father¡¯s face. The light slammed into the field with a deafening boom, just behind the pitcher¡¯s mound, not ten feet from where Ethan had reached Declan. The impact sent a shockwave rippling through the ground, a crater forming in the dirt as dust and debris exploded outward. The force knocked Ethan off his feet, hurling him forward through the air. He wrapped his arms around Declan instinctively, twisting his body to shield his son as they hit the ground hard. The landing was brutal¡ªEthan felt the friction of the dirt and grass tearing at his skin, his shirt ripping as he skidded across the field. Pain lanced through his shoulder and back, but he held Declan tight, ensuring the boy landed on top of him, safe from the impact. They rolled to a stop, Ethan¡¯s breath coming in ragged gasps, his body screaming in protest. He immediately checked Declan, his hands trembling as he ran them over the boy¡¯s arms and legs. A few scrapes, a smudge of dirt on his cheek, but nothing broken. Declan¡¯s eyes were wide, his breath hitching in shock, but he was alive. Ethan let out a shaky sigh of relief, his heart still hammering. Then his own pain hit him like a sledgehammer. Blood soaked through his torn shirt, warm and sticky against his skin, and he could feel the raw, scraped flesh on his back and arms. He didn¡¯t dare look¡ªhe didn¡¯t want to know how bad it was. Voices behind him snapped him out of his daze, a cacophony of screams and shouts that made his blood run cold. Ethan turned, his body protesting every movement, and saw something that defied reality. Three humanoid figures stood in the crater, their forms illuminated by the fading glow of their arrival. The largest was a male, towering at least seven feet tall, his green skin rippling with muscle. Patches of wood-like armor covered his body, as if grown from his flesh, and his weight¡ªeasily 400 pounds¡ªmade the ground tremble as he stepped forward. The second figure was smaller, female by the exposed breasts on her humanoid upper half, but her lower body was that of a deer, hooves clicking against the dirt. Her green skin matched the male¡¯s, and long orange hair cascaded down her back, guided by two small antlers sprouting from her skull. She moved with a grace that belied the chaos around her, her eyes scanning the crowd. The third was another female, fully humanoid, about 5¡¯8¡±, with the same green skin and orange hair. Random patches of wood armor dotted her body, but they seemed more decorative than functional, leaving vital areas exposed. She clutched a long, spear-like stick, its size disproportionate to her frame, yet she held it with confidence. They spoke to each other in a language Ethan couldn¡¯t comprehend, a melodic, flowing tongue that sounded like wind chimes and rushing water. It was beautiful, haunting¡ªand utterly alien. He knew, with a bone-deep certainty, that they weren¡¯t from Earth. Green skin, wooden armor, deer legs¡ªhumanity would¡¯ve noticed creatures like this centuries ago. The field had fallen silent, save for the agonized screams of a coach caught too close to the blast. He lay on the ground, clutching his shattered legs, his cries echoing in the still air. Ethan¡¯s gaze darted to the field, and his stomach churned¡ªbodies of children lay scattered, some motionless, others whimpering in pain. Rage boiled in his chest, hot and fierce, drowning out his fear. The large male moved suddenly, faster than anything that size should, and smashed a fist into the coach¡¯s head. The screaming stopped instantly, the man¡¯s skull reduced to a pulpy mess. Ethan¡¯s breath caught, his anger turning to ice. The two females reacted, their melodic voices rising in what sounded like anger, their hands waving in protest. The male responded with a gesture that could only be an eye roll, his disdain clear. Ethan stood slowly, his body screaming in protest, and pushed Declan behind him, shielding him with his frame. He edged toward the gap in the chain-link fence, his movements deliberate, trying not to draw attention. But the aliens noticed¡ªthree sets of glowing eyes locked onto him, the tension in the air thick enough to choke on. The male moved again, a blur of speed, and the females shouted in alarm, green lights flaring around them. The male¡¯s backhand hit Ethan like a freight train, the force shattering every bone in its path. His ribs crumpled, his arm twisted unnaturally, and pain didn¡¯t even have time to register before his nerves were obliterated. He was airborne, flying away from Declan, the world a blur of sky and dirt. He saw his son standing frozen, the behemoth looming over him, and despair clawed at his heart. Green light settled on the ground, and vines erupted, wrapping around the large male and binding him in place. The deer-legged female stepped forward, her voice sharp as she spoke to the male, arms crossed, waiting for a response. Ethan hit the ground hard, coughing blood onto the grass, the coppery taste filling his mouth. His body was a broken mess, every breath a knife in his chest. The deer-legged female turned at his cough, her expression shifting to something like sorrow. She rushed to him, kneeling beside his shattered form, and held out a hand. Green light poured from her palm, seeping into Ethan¡¯s body. He felt his bones knit together, a searing pain as they realigned, his muscles stitching back into place. He screamed, his back arching, teeth gritted against the agony. It was like being remade, every nerve on fire, but when it stopped, he was whole. Ethan sat up, his clothes still soaked in blood, but his body unmarred¡ªnot a scratch remained. Declan knelt beside him, tears streaming down his face, clutching the remains of Ethan¡¯s shirt. ¡°Dad!¡± he sobbed, throwing his arms around him. Ethan hugged him back, tight enough to hurt, his own eyes burning. ¡°It¡¯s okay, D. We¡¯re okay.¡± He looked around for the green-skinned beings, but they were gone. A faint shimmer in the air above the crater was the only sign of their departure, as if they¡¯d vanished into the ether, leaving behind a field of devastation and unanswered questions. Ethan turned Declan away from the carnage¡ªdead children, grieving parents, the field a tableau of loss. Other survivors stumbled onto the field, some cradling their own children, others weeping over small, broken bodies. Ethan held Declan closer, shielding him from the sight, his mind racing. What were those things? Where had they come from? And why had they spared him? They stayed like that, clinging to each other, until the wail of sirens announced the police¡¯s arrival. Ethan knew, even then, that nothing would ever be the same. Chapter 2 - A New World Ethan sat on the edge of the couch, his hands clasped tightly between his knees, staring at the scuff marks on his sneakers. The living room was dim, the only light coming from a flickering lamp in the corner, its bulb on the verge of giving out. The air smelled faintly of burnt toast¡ªhe¡¯d forgotten breakfast in the toaster that morning, too distracted by the chaos of the past two weeks. Since the ballpark incident, nothing felt real. The world had tilted on its axis, and he was still scrambling to find his footing. Declan wouldn¡¯t even go out in the yard to throw a ball anymore. Ethan understood¡ªthe green-skinned aliens had left scars on them both, invisible but deep. The boy¡¯s laughter, once a constant melody in their small home, had been replaced by a heavy silence. Declan lay across the arms of the brown leather recliner now, his small frame curled in on itself, eyes glued to a superhero show on the streaming service. The bright colors and triumphant music felt jarring against the gloom that had settled over them. Ethan watched him, his chest aching. He hurt when his son hurt, a pain that cut deeper than any physical wound. The police had been useless. Over a dozen adult witnesses, parents who¡¯d seen the aliens with their own eyes, and still the authorities had written it off as a terrorist attack. A fabricated story for the public to swallow, Ethan figured, because they didn¡¯t know what else to do. They couldn¡¯t simply not believe them¡ªtoo many identical accounts, too many grieving parents demanding justice. But justice for what? Beings that shimmered out of existence, leaving nothing but death and questions? Declan, at ten years old, couldn¡¯t grasp the bureaucracy of it all. He couldn¡¯t even watch a show with monsters now, his once-fearless imagination tainted by the memory of green skin and wooden armor. Ethan¡¯s anger simmered, a slow burn in his gut, mingling with a sadness he couldn¡¯t shake. He wanted to hunt the green giant that had nearly killed him, that had loomed over Declan like a predator over prey. He wanted to pulverize it, to make it feel the terror it had inflicted on his son. But how? They were gone, vanished into the air, and he was just a man¡ªa tired, overworked father with no answers. He stood, the movement stiff, and crossed to the front door leading to the yard. The glass was smudged with fingerprints, a testament to Declan¡¯s once-endless curiosity about the world outside. Now, the yard was a forbidden zone, a place of shadows and fear. Ethan gripped the doorknob, the metal cold against his smooth palm, and stared out at the empty grass. He¡¯d set a baseball glove on the counter earlier, a silent hope that Declan might want to play, but the boy hadn¡¯t even glanced at it. Ethan sighed, the sound heavy in the quiet room, and let the glove sit. He couldn¡¯t force this. Not yet. He turned back to Declan, watching the flicker of the TV screen reflect in his son¡¯s green eyes. ¡°Hey, D,¡± he said softly, trying to keep his voice steady. ¡°You okay over there?¡± Declan didn¡¯t look up, his fingers tightening on the remote. ¡°Yeah,¡± he mumbled, the word flat, unconvincing. Ethan¡¯s heart twisted. He wished he could be the superhero on the screen, the one who swooped in and fixed everything with a snap of his fingers. But he wasn¡¯t. He was just a dad, and right now, that didn¡¯t feel like enough. What was he going to do? The question hung in his mind, unanswered, as he trudged to his bedroom. The hallway was narrow, the walls lined with framed photos¡ªsnapshots of better days. Declan at three, grinning with a chocolate-smeared face at his birthday party. Ethan and Declan at the zoo last year, laughing as a giraffe stole Declan¡¯s ice cream cone. Ethan paused at the last photo, a candid shot of him holding a newborn Declan, his own face a mix of exhaustion and awe. Tara had taken that one, back when she¡¯d still been part of their lives. The memory of her abandonment stung, a sharp jab in his chest. She¡¯d walked away from this¡ªfrom Declan¡ªwithout a backward glance. Ethan would never understand it. He pushed open his bedroom door, the hinges creaking softly, and collapsed onto the bed. The mattress sagged under his weight, the springs groaning in protest. He stared at the ceiling, the popcorn texture blurred by the dim light filtering through the blinds. His body ached, a dull throb in his lower back from sitting too long at his desk, and his mind raced with a thousand what-ifs. What if the aliens came back? What if he couldn¡¯t protect Declan next time? What if he failed, like Tara had? A low rumble shook the house, the vibrations rattling the windowpanes. Ethan rolled off the bed in a panic, his heart leaping into his throat. Was this an earthquake? They lived in Tennessee¡ªearthquakes didn¡¯t happen here. The house shuddered again, a deep, resonant groan that seemed to come from the earth itself. Glass shattered somewhere in the living room, the sound sharp and jarring, as pictures fell from the walls with a series of thuds. Ethan had never known an earthquake could make such a distinct sound, like the growl of some ancient beast waking beneath the ground. He stumbled to his feet, his socks slipping on the hardwood floor, and scrambled down the hallway, bouncing off the walls as the shaking intensified. The living room was a disaster¡ªbooks, dishes, and knickknacks littered the floor, a chaotic mosaic of their once-orderly life. The television had fallen from its mount, its screen cracked, and the coffee table was overturned, a small vase of dried flowers shattered beneath it. Ethan¡¯s eyes darted around the small space, searching for his son. Declan was huddled by the counter peninsula that separated the living room from the kitchen, his small body curled into a ball, arms wrapped around his knees. His eyes were wide with terror, his breath coming in short, panicked gasps. Ethan made his way over, stepping over a shattered picture frame, the glass crunching under his socks. He scooped Declan into his arms, the boy¡¯s weight a familiar comfort against his chest, and held him tight. Carrying Declan made it harder to balance as the house continued to shake, but Ethan managed, his determination outweighing the chaos. He stumbled toward the front door, his shoulder brushing against the wall as another tremor rocked the house. He didn¡¯t have experience with earthquakes, but he figured outside was safer¡ªno shelves to collapse, no glass to shatter over their heads. The second they crossed the threshold into the front yard, Ethan felt something shift in the air. It wasn¡¯t just the humidity of a Tennessee evening; the air felt palpable, electric, like the charged stillness before a lightning strike. He looked up, and his breath caught. A light pulsed through the atmosphere, flickering at random intervals, a kaleidoscope of colors¡ªblue, green, violet¡ªdancing across the sky. It wasn¡¯t like the blazing orb from the ballpark; this was softer, more diffuse, but no less unnatural. Declan didn¡¯t seem to notice, his face buried in Ethan¡¯s neck, his small hands clutching at his shirt. Ethan¡¯s heart pounded, a mix of fear and awe, as he watched the light show. What was going on? He glanced around the neighborhood, his eyes scanning the yards of his neighbors. A few were outside, their faces tilted upward, mouths agape as they watched the same phenomenon. The rumble of the earthquake continued, a steady vibration beneath his feet, but it grew louder with each pulse of the light, like a heartbeat syncing with the sky. It reminded Ethan of those novelty lights that flickered in time with music, the kind he¡¯d seen at a coworker¡¯s house party years ago. But this was no party trick¡ªthis was something far beyond his understanding. Making sure no trees or power lines were close enough to fall on them, Ethan knelt on the grass, the blades cool and damp against his knees, and set Declan down beside him. The boy didn¡¯t want to let go, his arms tightening around Ethan¡¯s neck, so Ethan let him climb back into his lap, holding him close. He understood. He was scared too. All he knew was that he had to be strong for Declan, to protect him, no matter what came next. The phenomenon lasted for two hours, an endless stretch of time that felt both eternal and fleeting. After about thirty minutes, Declan calmed enough to look around, his curiosity slowly overtaking his fear. He sat in Ethan¡¯s lap, his small body pressed against his father¡¯s chest, and gazed up at the lights in wonder. ¡°It¡¯s like a fireworks show,¡± he whispered, his voice soft but steady, the first real words he¡¯d spoken since the shaking started. Ethan¡¯s throat tightened, a wave of relief washing over him. For just a moment, he had his son back¡ªthe boy who saw magic in the world, not monsters. The moment was shattered by a prompt that covered Ethan¡¯s vision, a translucent window floating in the air like something out of a video game. He swiped at it with his hand, but it didn¡¯t budge. He rubbed his eyes, then smacked the side of his head, thinking it might be a hallucination, but the window remained, its text glowing with an eerie blue light. By the small gasp Declan made, he¡¯d gotten one too. Ethan finally let himself read the words. System Integration initializing¡­ System Integration complete. Welcome to the System. Your world is in peril and its fate is in your hands. Will you save your planet or rush it further toward devastation? The choice is yours. Strength is power and with enough power you may find peace. System navigation screens currently available Status - Yes Quest - Yes Achievement - Yes Notification - Yes Skill - Yes Faction - No Class Selection - Unlocked at Level 5 Ethan blinked, the words searing into his mind. Was he in some kind of computer program? A simulation? The thought made his stomach churn, but he pushed it aside. First, he needed to check on Declan. How could he get rid of this window? The moment he thought about dismissing it, the prompt vanished. To test his theory, he willed it back, and it reappeared. Satisfied, he closed it again. ¡°Are you okay, D?¡± he asked, his voice rough with worry. Declan¡¯s brow furrowed, his eyes still fixed on the air where his own prompt must have been. ¡°This says I¡¯m in a System and that more will unlock when I turn fourteen,¡± he said, his voice a mix of confusion and curiosity. ¡°Nothing but my status screen is available. Dad, what¡¯s happening?¡± ¡°I¡¯m not sure, but we¡¯re okay,¡± Ethan reassured, pulling him closer. He ran a hand through Declan¡¯s hair, the strands soft against his fingers, and tried to keep his own fear at bay. Declan was surprisingly calm, his earlier terror replaced by a child¡¯s adaptability. Ethan supposed that a rumbling earthquake and a mysterious screen were tame compared to seeing your father smashed into a bloody heap in front of you. The window had mentioned strength and power. Could this System give Ethan the tools to ensure the ballpark incident never happened again? Could he become strong enough to protect his son from whatever came next? He opened the welcome prompt again, reading it more carefully this time. What were these screens it talked about? Were they like the welcome window, something he could summon with a thought? He started with the first on the list, the Status screen, willing it to appear. Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. A new window opened, different from the welcome prompt, displaying a panel of stats that might as well have been written in a foreign language. Name: Ethan Carter Faction: None Class: None Level: 1 HP: 18 MP: 19 EP: 34 Statistics Strength: 10 Dexterity: 11 Constitution: 14 Agility: 10 Intelligence: 15 Wisdom: 14 Charisma: 9 Ethan stared at the floating panel, the numbers and words a jumble of nonsense at first glance. Strength at 10¡ªaverage, he supposed. He wasn¡¯t exactly lifting weights at the gym, but he could hold his own. Dexterity at 11¡ªwhat did that even mean? His fingers were nimble enough from years of typing reports, but he wasn¡¯t a pianist. Constitution at 14 seemed higher, maybe tied to his health. He¡¯d always been resilient, rarely getting sick, even when Declan brought home every bug from school. Agility was 10¡ªnothing special there. Intelligence and Wisdom, at 15 and 14, sparked a flicker of pride in his chest. He¡¯d always prided himself on his problem-solving, on figuring things out even when the odds were stacked against him. Those numbers felt like a small validation, a nod to the late nights he¡¯d spent balancing budgets and raising a kid on his own. But then his eyes landed on Charisma: 9. Below average. He winced. Not that he could argue¡ªhe¡¯d rather face a pack of goblins than make small talk at a company party. The stat wasn¡¯t wrong; it just stung to see it laid bare. He closed the screen, his mind still reeling, and checked on Declan. The boy¡¯s eyes were unfocused, likely reading his own status screen, but he seemed unharmed. Ethan moved on to the next item on the list: the Quest Log. He willed it to open, and a new window appeared, split into two panels. The left side listed two entries, and when he focused on the first¡ª¡°Kill or be killed¡±¡ªthe right side displayed more details. Kill or be killed Time Remaining: Unlimited Description: You must take your first steps and establish your place in this new world. Kill 10 monsters or people. Progress: 0/10 Reward: Experience and a Skill book Ethan wasn¡¯t surprised. The welcome screen had already hinted at conflict, and he¡¯d suspected as much. He wasn¡¯t military, had never killed a person, but he¡¯d always believed he could if it came down to it¡ªmost men did, didn¡¯t they? The monster part might be easier. He was a redneck at heart, had hunted deer and rabbits with his dad growing up, knew how to field dress, skin, and butcher meat. He could tan a pelt if he had to. But this wasn¡¯t hunting for food¡ªthis was survival, a new kind of game with rules he didn¡¯t yet understand. He needed to arm himself. The reward intrigued him. Experience made sense with levels in play, but a Skill book? What was a Skill, and what did a book have to do with it? He moved to the second quest entry. Class Selection Time Remaining: Unlimited Description: The true beginning of your journey. Get to Level 5 and choose a class from the class selection screen. Progress: 0/1 class chosen Reward: Experience Class Selection? Ethan¡¯s head spun with questions, each one piling on top of the last. He hoped some would answer themselves soon¡ªhe couldn¡¯t handle much more uncertainty. Declan stirred in his lap, pulling him back to the moment. ¡°I figured out how to open another screen, Daddy!¡± Declan said, his voice bright with excitement. ¡°If I go to that first screen and stare at the word ¡®Status¡¯ real hard, another screen opens. It tells me about me, just like in a video game!¡± Ethan couldn¡¯t help but smile, the first real one he¡¯d felt in days. ¡°That¡¯s great, bud,¡± he said, ruffling his hair again. ¡°Let¡¯s go check on the house. I think everything might be on the floor.¡± They stood, Declan clinging to his hand, and stepped back inside. The house was a wreck, a testament to the earthquake¡¯s fury. Books, dishes, and toys littered the floor, the shards of a broken lamp glinting in the dim light. The air smelled of dust and spilled coffee, the pot having tipped over in the kitchen. Ethan¡¯s stomach churned at the sight¡ªit would take hours to clean, hours he didn¡¯t have. But he pushed the thought aside. Survival came first. ¡°Declan, go to your room and start picking things up,¡± he said, his tone gentle but firm. For the first time in history, Declan didn¡¯t protest, nodding solemnly as he shuffled off, his sneakers crunching on debris. Ethan followed him partway, pausing at the door to Declan¡¯s room. The space was a mess¡ªaction figures scattered across the floor, a shelf that once held them toppled over, its contents a chaotic pile. Ethan¡¯s heart sank at the sight, a reminder of the normalcy they¡¯d lost. He turned away, leaving Declan to his task, and headed for his own room. He headed straight for the safe in his bedroom, his steps purposeful. The door was ajar, a photo of him and Declan at the beach lying face-down on the floor. He picked it up, brushing off the dust, and set it back on the dresser before kneeling to open the safe. First, he grabbed his sneakers from beside the bed, slipping them on with quick, practiced movements. The laces were frayed, but they¡¯d hold¡ªhe couldn¡¯t afford to be caught barefoot if something else came for them. With his shoes on, he turned to the safe. Inside was his pistol, a 9mm he¡¯d bought years ago after a string of break-ins in the neighborhood. He loaded it with steady hands, the familiar weight grounding him, and strapped it to his hip. He didn¡¯t stop there, gathering his hunting gear¡ªknives, a canteen, a small tent, anything he could think of. The power was already out, the house eerily silent without the hum of appliances, and he didn¡¯t expect it to come back on anytime soon. If this was an apocalypse, he¡¯d be ready. Next, he checked the plumbing, turning on the kitchen faucet. Water sputtered out, cold and clear, and he let out a breath he hadn¡¯t realized he¡¯d been holding. It worked¡ªfor now. He grabbed every container he could find¡ªjugs, bottles, even an old bucket¡ªand filled them to the brim, lining them up on the counter like soldiers on parade. When the pipes ran dry¡ªand they would¡ªhe¡¯d be damned if they went thirsty. He didn¡¯t know how long they¡¯d have running water, but he wasn¡¯t taking chances. If he had to scavenge, he¡¯d rather not worry about the basics. As he worked, his mind churned with questions. Why did he have statistics? He figured HP was his health, MP was mana like in video games, and EP was probably stamina, but why? How could he use mana? It was higher than his health¡ª19 MP to 18 HP¡ªand if he could hurl fireballs, it might mean the difference between life and death. He needed to figure this out, and fast. Ethan froze, his fingers tightening around the grip of his pistol, as a noise snapped him out of his thoughts. It came from the back of the house¡ªthe basement carport, where the roof sagged like a tired awning, hiding whatever lurked beneath. His pulse quickened, the memory of the ballpark flashing in his mind¡ªgreen skin, a melodic voice like wind chimes and rushing water, Declan¡¯s screams echoing in his ears. Not again. ¡°Not this time,¡± he growled under his breath, flicking the safety off with a soft click. He held the 9mm low, barrel tilted downward but ready to snap up in an instant, and crept toward the side of the house. The sound hit him before he saw them¡ªa chorus of harsh, grating growls, like rocks scraping deep in a cave, but pitched higher, almost shrill. It didn¡¯t match the melodic, flowing tones from the park, the ones that had haunted his dreams for weeks. These were different, a cacophony of overlapping voices chattering in a jagged, guttural tongue that clawed at his ears. Ethan edged along the wall, his sneakers silent on the grass, until he reached the corner of the carport. He pressed his back to the siding, the wood rough against his shirt, and took a steadying breath before peeking around. Three creatures stood there, barely four feet tall, their green skin glistening with a sickly sheen under the dim afternoon light. They were scrawny, hunched things¡ªnothing like the hulking giant that had nearly ended him. Knobby limbs jutted from torsos pocked with warts, and their faces were a mess of bulging eyes and jagged teeth poking out at odd angles. Disgusting didn¡¯t cover it¡ªthey looked like something coughed up from a nightmare, jabbering in that grating, subterranean chatter. No weapons, just claws and spite. Ethan¡¯s anger flared, mingling with a cold resolve. These weren¡¯t the same monsters, but they were close enough. His Quest Log flickered in his mind¡ªKill or be killed. 0/10. Maybe this was the System¡¯s twisted gift, a chance to fight back. He gripped the gun tighter, his knuckles whitening. He could do this. He stepped out, leveling the pistol. ¡°Hey!¡± he barked, his voice sharp enough to cut through their yammering. The trio whirled, eyes widening¡ªsurprised, not scared. The closest one hissed, a wet, phlegmy sound, and lunged, claws outstretched. Ethan didn¡¯t hesitate. He squeezed the trigger, the crack of the shot splitting the air. The creature¡¯s head jerked back, green ichor spraying as it crumpled. The other two screeched, a high-pitched wail that grated on his nerves, and charged. He fired again¡ªmissed, the bullet pinging off the brick wall¡ªthen adjusted, dropping the second with a bullet to the chest. It flopped backward, twitching, its blood pooling on the concrete. The last one was faster, closing the gap. Ethan swung the pistol like a club, cracking it across the thing¡¯s skull. It staggered, dazed, and he finished it with a point-blank shot, the recoil jarring his wrist. Silence fell, heavy and sudden, broken only by the faint drip of goblin blood on the ground. A strange energy pulsed in his chest, warm and electric, and an icon blinked in his peripheral vision. He focused on it, and notifications flooded his sight. [You have killed a Level 1 goblin - 50 experience gained] [You have made progress on Kill or be killed - 1/10] [You have killed a Level 1 goblin - 50 experience gained] [You have made progress on Kill or be killed - 2/10] [You have killed a Level 1 goblin - 50 experience gained] [You have made progress on Kill or be killed - 3/10] Ethan stared at the messages, his breath still ragged. He didn¡¯t feel guilty¡ªnot even a flicker. These things had been aggressive, would have attacked him without hesitation. He scanned the area for more threats, his pistol still raised, sweat beading on his forehead. There was only one direction the goblins could have come from¡ªthe rear of his small property, where the detached garage sat at the very back of his land. He moved forward, leading with his gun, his steps cautious but determined. He reached the garage, its weathered door hanging slightly ajar, and stopped dead. He didn¡¯t need to guess where the goblins had come from. A giant, cave-like entrance yawned in the ground inside the garage, its edges jagged and glowing faintly with an eerie blue light. The air around it shimmered, just like the aliens¡¯ departure at the ballpark, and Ethan¡¯s stomach dropped. ¡°Jesus¡­ what am I going to do about this?¡± he said aloud, more to himself than anyone else. He couldn¡¯t explore the cave with Declan by himself, and he had no idea how many goblins were inside. He needed help. His thoughts turned immediately to Ruth, Declan¡¯s maternal grandmother. She¡¯d always been there when he needed her, a steady presence despite Tara¡¯s abandonment. With everything that had happened¡ªthe aliens, the earthquake, the System¡ªhe hadn¡¯t thought to check on her until now. Her daughter might have been a failure, but Ruth was a rock. Ethan pulled out his phone, the screen lighting up with a faint hope. He unlocked it and dialed Ruth¡¯s number, her contact starred in his list. The phone switched to the calling screen, but when he pressed it to his ear, there was nothing¡ªno ring, no static. He glanced at the screen again and saw the reason: no bars. Whatever had happened during the earthquake must have knocked out the cell towers. He shook his head, frustration bubbling in his chest, and headed back to the carport. A plan formed in his mind, a list of tasks to keep him focused. First, he¡¯d clear the goblin bodies¡ªhe¡¯d throw them back into the cave, let it swallow its own filth. Then he¡¯d load Declan into the car and, if the roads were clear, drive to Ruth¡¯s house. Declan would be glad to see his Nanny anyway, and Ethan needed her help to face whatever this cave held. He lifted the first goblin body, grimacing at the weight. The small, lanky creature was heavier than it looked, its muscles dense despite its scrawny frame. It must have been stronger than it appeared, a predator in disguise. Ethan got to work, dragging the corpses one by one, their blood smearing across the concrete as he hauled them toward the garage. He moved quickly, his eyes darting to the house, making sure Declan didn¡¯t stumble upon the grisly scene. The last thing his son needed was another nightmare to haunt him. Chapter 3 - Joy Ride ¡°Declan, let¡¯s hop in the car and go check on Nanny. We need to make sure she¡¯s okay,¡± Ethan said coming up from the basement. Declan ran out of his room, ¡°Let¡¯s go!¡± and pushed him back toward the door. ¡°You just want to stop cleaning, huh?¡± Ethan said with a knowing smile. ¡°Yes,¡± Declan answered without hesitation. Ethan had everything he needed. Keys, wallet, phone though the latter was pointless for now. They headed down to the car. A white Toyota Camry. Getting in, Ethan prayed that it still worked. He didn¡¯t know why it wouldn¡¯t but just hearing it turn on would make him feel better. Holding his breath, Ethan pushed the ignition button. The car started up with no issue. Ethan let out the breath he was holding, an unknown weight was lifted off of his shoulders. He shifted the car into reverse to back out then to drive to get out of his drive way. He only saw a couple cars out on the road which he could understand if everyone got the same messages that he and Declan received. Also, could there be more monsters other than just goblins lurking about. He didn¡¯t have to wait long to find out. Ethan turned down Oak Drive and saw a giant pack of wolves chasing a group of five men. The men wielded a variety of weapons. One had a bat and was swinging at the wolves whenever one got in range and another had a 30-06 hunting rifle and was trying to take shots at the wolves whenever an opportunity presented itself. The wolves stopped and turned when they heard Ethan¡¯s car approach. A couple peeled off and tried to attack the vehicle. They didn¡¯t seem to understand that metal going 40 miles per hour hurt and Ethan wasn¡¯t about to stop with Declan in the car. He sped up. When the car collided with wolf there was a brief crunch. The first wolf didn¡¯t jump and instead ended up under the tires. The second wolf did jump but the speed of the car prevented it from being about to do anything other than tumble over the hood, roof, and trunk and end up laying on the street with broken legs. [You have killed a Level 3 dire wolf - 75 experience gained] [You have made progress on Kill or be killed - 4/10] Urgency sparked in Ethan¡¯s stomach and he feared the worst. If monsters and creatures were killing people then he feared for not just Ruth¡¯s safety but his family¡¯s safety as well. He had parents, sisters, nieces, and nephews that all needed to be protected. He forced himself to take a deep breath. One thing at a time. Declan was safe, now he was checking on Ruth, then he would check on his parents. The others would have to wait. Ruth only lived a few streets over. Less than a mile total distance but the journey to her house was difficult. Chaos was everywhere. Some people were actively fighting each other, some where fighting animals or other creatures, some houses were just piles of debris where the earthquake had collapsed them. More than one person had tried to get him to stop. He kept his pistol in his lap. His heart sank when he turned the street where Ruth lived. She lived in the first house on the right and even Declan made a sound when he saw it. In the lot where her house was was nothing but a pile of rubble. From the road, Ethan could see goblins rummaging through the debris. ¡°Declan, stay in the car. I¡¯m going to find Nanny,¡± Ethan said in a stone that left no room for debate. He slammed the car in park and jumped out of the car. Running behind Ruth¡¯s parked car in the driveway and using it as cover, Ethan aimed and fired at the goblins. He missed a couple shots before he got the adrenaline under control. He took aim and changed to squeezing the trigger instead of jerking it. Two goblins took shots before they located him behind the SUV. One of those shots was a head shot and it put the goblin down, immediately. The second, was a body shot and the goblin crumpled, in pain, but still alive. The other four goblins started to rush him. He only had two shots left before he needed to reload. He was in a bad situation. He leaded out and put two into the lead goblin charging him. The goblin fell causing the ones behind it to stumble for a moment, buying his a few extra seconds. Ethan released the empty magazine and pulled another from his belt. He let the empty magazine clatter to the concrete and reached to pull back the slide as the first goblin arrived in front of him. The goblin slammed its fist into Ethan¡¯s chest. The blow sent him reeling back and taking the air from his lungs. The gun he had once held in his hand skipped across the concrete and onto the asphalt of the road behind him. The three goblins didn¡¯t pause to talk and were immediately on him. He had barely enough time to draw his hunting knife from its sheath and slash the foot of the goblin that had punched him as it kicked for his torso. The blade met flesh and tore through it to the bone. The goblin screamed in pain. Ethan managed to keep a hold of his knife but before he could get up the second goblin fell on top of him. Ethan was shocked by the strength of the tiny creature. It tried to overpower and pin him to the ground so the others could move in a finish the fight. Ethan brought his arms from above his head to his sides, shifting the goblins balance. He used his knee to push the goblin up and threw the disgusting green creature off of him. The rolled to his feet in time to meet the third goblin in the neck with his knife. Green blood sprayed everywhere as he ripped the knife free. Ethan caught the movement of the first goblin and turned in time to once again take a swipe from it. This time the punch connected with his cheek and the force spun him on his feet only to make him face the second goblin as it was tackling him to the ground. The goblin started to pound Ethan with it¡¯s fists and forearms. All he could do was cover his head to block the barrage of blows. Once the stars from getting his dome rocked cleared, he managed to slip a stab into the goblins ribs. This stopped the blows from the one on top of him but by this time the other goblin had knelt and started to assist in raining punches down. More than one blow landed and bounced Ethan¡¯s head off the pavement. He was pretty sure he was going to have a concussion after this if he survived. He didn¡¯t want to see what his HP was at because he knew that it had to be plummeting at an alarming rate. He kept plunging his knife into the ribs of the goblin on top of him and twisting the blade when he could. After about the fifth time the green bloody mess slumped on top of Ethan. Ethan used the body as a shield and pushed it in teh way of the goblin still pummeling him. This gave Ethan the time to stand up. He backed up and a loud bang sounded from behind him. The goblin flinched. Two more shots rang out and the goblin fell. One of teh shots taking it through the eye socket. Ethan turned to see a dirty woman wearing a blue navy t-shirt and a pair of jeans that were ripped in one of the legs. Ruth stood there holding a small revolver. She began to reload as she spoke. ¡°Damn, Carter, you look like hell,¡± the woman said raising an eyebrow. ¡°You should see the other guy,¡± he quipped back. He knew he had a black eye as he could only see out of one and he probably had a concussion with how bad his head hurt at the moment. ¡°Where is D?¡± Ruth asked. ¡°In the car. With everything going on we needed to make sure you were safe,¡± Ethan responded. Ruth¡¯s expression softened, ¡°Thanks. I was hiding in the rubble. They were digging trying to get to me. I¡¯m glad you arrived when you did or I may not have made it.¡± Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. Ethan heard the car door slam and a little voice ring out, ¡°Nanny!¡± Soon after, Ruth was a tangle of arms and legs as Declan jumped into her arms. She dropped the pistol rather than risk it going off with him in her arms. Ethan kept a look out. ¡°Hey, buddy, I¡¯d love to hold you right now but it¡¯s not safe out here, right now. Let¡¯s get somewhere safer,¡± Ruth said setting Declan down on the ground. She picked up her revolver and turned to Ethan. ¡°Hate to ask but if your house still stands do you mind if I crash on the couch?¡± Ruth asked. ¡°That is fine. I¡¯m sure Declan would prefer it anyway. Its been a rough couple of weeks for him,¡± Ethan said, ¡°Do you have anything we need to take with us? Anything we can scavenge? I am nervous about the rest of the world and have a feeling things are going to get worse before they get better.¡± ¡°I managed to get to where my bedroom used to be so I managed to pull out some clothes. I didn¡¯t much in the way of food here,¡± Ruth replied. ¡°It¡¯s fine. Let¡¯s get what we can loaded and head to the house. We have an extra bed and we can put it in the storm shelter in the basement. We may actually all sleep in the basement if the beasts and monsters that I¡¯ve seen are any indicator of what is lurking out here,¡± Ethan said and headed to the pile of clothes that Ruth pointed to. It took them about thirty minutes to get everything they could scavenge in both Ruth¡¯s and Ethan¡¯s vehicles. In the end they had clothes for Ruth, some more camping supplies, a few more pistols and ammunition, and whatever food that could be found digging through the debris of the house. It was fortunate that Ruth kept most of it in her bedroom closet. The chaos was just as bad on the way home. Ethan could now see swarms of goblins trying to break in houses and some were even fighting the wolves that became more numerous as well. There were also more people grouping up to form a defense as well. He had to drive around the bodies of the wolves he had hit earlier. The one he had left alive was how dead. Something had come by and ripped its throat out. They pulled in his drive way and parked the cars along the side of the house so they would be out of the way if anything attacked. ¡°One reason I¡¯m glad you¡¯re here. So I can go take care of whatever that is but first I need to rest. That goblin beat me up pretty bad.¡± They unloaded everything and, while Ruth prepared the storm shelter to be the new bedroom for them all, Ethan cleaned the goblin blood off himself. He took advantage of the water still functioning and showered. He didn¡¯t bother salvaging the clothes that were covered in the green blood and just tossed them in the pile with the goblin corpses from earlier. He was going to have to burn them if they were going to stay here long term. After his shower, he took stock of their food situation. They hadn¡¯t eaten all day, Declan had to be hungry. He would cook the food that was thawed in the freezer tonight and after if they were frugal they could probably stretch what they have for a couple weeks. He went outside and moved the grill to an open area far from the house. If there was one thing he learned from survival shows on television. You never cooked where you slept. The smell would attract predators. He turned on the propane tank under the grill and lit the flame. Grilling was something he knew how to do well. He settled back to let the grilled warm up before he put the thawed chicken on the grill plate. He used the time to check his notifications that had been building up. He took one look and had them group themselves to be more easily read. [You have killed 3 Level 1 goblins and 1 Level 2 goblin - 60 experience gained] [You have assisted in killing 1 Level 3 dire wolf, 1 Level 2 goblin, and 1 Level 1 goblin - 43 experience gained] [You have made progress on Kill or be killed - 5/10 to 10/10] [You have taken 12 points of bludgeoning damage] [You have learned the passive skills - Gun Proficiency and Knife Proficiency] [Congratulations! You have completed a quest. Go to your Quest Log to claim the reward - 360 experience gained] [Congratulations! You have achieved level 2. You have 5 free stat points to assign] Ethan¡¯s eyes widened. There was so much death. The gravity of it didn¡¯t hit him until seeing it written out in his logs. He had killed eight semi-intelligent things today. Killing the wolves didn¡¯t bother him as they were preying on other people at the time. Ethan hoped those people were able to fend off the remaining wolves after he left. On a good note he managed to complete his first quest and leveled up in the process. Before he went to his quest log he reviewed his Status screen.
Name: Ethan Carter Faction: None Class: None Level: 2 Progress to next level: 83/940 HP: 26/36 MP: 38/38 EP: 68/68
Statistics Strength: 10 Dexterity: 11 Constitution: 14 Agility: 10 Intelligence: 15 Wisdom: 14 Charisma: 9 Unallocated Stat Points: 5
Oh. Ethan stared at the sheet. He received more health when he leveled up. If he hadn¡¯t leveled then he would have been at 6 HP when the fight ended. Seeing it in numbers had the strange ability to quantify his mortality to him. If he died then Ruth would obviously care for Declan but a son needed his father. He would set an example for him and he would protect him until the day he died. Ethan thought to the system ¡®apply 2 points to Constitution¡¯ and the system complied. His HP and EP recalculated in front of him and shot up to 40 maximum HP and 76 maximum EP. Ethan could feel the change. His black eye healed slightly more and now he couldn¡¯t even tell he had one any longer. For the remaining 3 points, Ethan put one into Charisma to make it 10, the 9 really bothered him, and 2 into Intelligence bringing it up to 17. His mana recalculated up to 42. He needed to sit down and figure out mana at some point, as well. Not right now, however, it was time for his quest reward. Ethan opened his Quest Log and looked at the quest entry. There was nothing different other than showing a Complete next to the quest header and slightly changing the tent of the quest header. He thought claim to the quest entry and he felt energy enter him just like after a kill. A book with a intricate cover appeared in his hands. The cover was a light blue and was made from leather. The spine and each corner was covered in black leather and in the center of the front was a gold emblem that Ethan didn¡¯t recognize. He opened the book and before he could read anything on the first page, a prompt appeared in his vision. [Do you want to learn the Skill - Identify? Yes / No] Ethan was slightly disappointed. He was hoping for something combat related to better help him defend against everything that wanted to kill them. Sighing he selected ¡®Yes¡¯. The book disappeared and morphed into a visible blue light that matched the color of the book cover. The stream of light swirled in the air and entered Ethan¡¯s forehead catching him off guard. Information flooded into his head on what the skill was and how to use it. The knowledge barrage wasn¡¯t painful. It was quite the opposite actually, it felt good. Once the knowledge of how to use the skill finished, he used the skill on the grill in front of him. [Item: Propane Grill] Type: Utility / Cooking Apparatus Rarity: Common Durability 85/100 Description: A sturdy relic of pre-System suburbia, this grill boasts a scratched stainless steel frame and blackened cast iron grates, weathered from routine use. Fueled by a half-full propane tank (brass fittings intact), it heats up to cook meet or other food items. Attributes: Heat Output: Moderate (Sufficient for cooking, not forging) Fuel Remaining: ~50% Weight: 45 lbs. Ethan was impressed that was more information than he would ever want about a grill. The line about fuel remaining kicked him into cooking mode and he put the chicken on the grates. He seasoned the chicken with some spices that had no other use and opened a can of corn to heat up beside the chicken. By the time he finished cooking everything, he had unlocked another skill ¡ª [Basic Cooking - Level 1] They ate out by the grill where Ethan and Ruth could watch the surroundings. Ethan relayed to Ruth everything that he had learned about the quests and the system so far. She hadn¡¯t even known how to open her status screen. She had had to dig herself out of her house collapsing around her. She practiced and discovered that she had also unlocked [Gun Proficiency] and was 3/10 kills on the quest [Kill or be killed]. The whole situation didn¡¯t sit right with her. ¡°God, how could this happen?¡± Ruth asked Ethan. ¡°I¡¯m not sure, but I know one thing, I intend for us to survive it,¡± Ethan responded. ¡°This has to be a test,¡± Ruth replied and quieted down. Ethan could tell she was lost in her own thoughts. He let her be. Declan, however, did not. He was around the two people he felt the most comfortable around and seemed to be adjusting to the System well. He was talking so fast, Ethan wondered when he was going to stop for breath. ¡­and when I am 14, I¡¯ll unlock the system and I¡¯m going to be an assassin,¡± Declan said matter-of-factly brandishing two short sticks as if they were daggers. Ethan let him continue. He hoped they lived long enough for him to become whatever he wanted to become. Maybe¡­just maybe¡­by that time, they would know what was going on.